or Patsy and Edina. either works.
While Mark stayed with Ceol Mor, loading in gear and organizing I was able to pop up to the Berkshires in Massachusetts for a quick trip with Alma, bestie #2 to attend the nuptials of Amy, bestie #1. The number does not denote their ranking in my affection, but rather the order in which they entered my life.
I am extraordinarily fortunate to have a very close-knit small group of friends, a little Coastal Coterie. The kind of friends you can laugh with, cry with and who you know would drop everything to assist you if you were in need. Not everyone has that, and I realize how very lucky I am. The old adage is that cutting the dock lines is the hardest part of setting sail and the reason its stated so often is that it is very true. Leaving behind my family and friends is absolutely the hardest part. Selling the house and all our furniture was easy compared to this.
The Berkshires were beautiful but I had forgotten how small everything feels in New England. We popped into Stockbridge for lunch and really, that is about all there is to do there. The downtown area is about one block long. We visited Williamstown, the home of Amy’s alma mater. Spring street is cute, but once again very small. We did manage to find a particularly good restaurant, Pera ( get the pasta) a great coffee shop Tunnel City coffee and an affable pub, the Purple Pub. All of the bars close at 9 pm. In a college town. During the fall term. Weird.
I had asked Amy what the favored activity was in the Berkshire’s in October. “Leaf peeping’ she informed me. Huh. The leaves were indeed ablaze with color and the undulation of the landscape made for some particularly beautiful vistas, but that is about the sum total of things to do in the Berkshires. Peep some leaves. Correctly done while wearing plaid and having a Prosecco. Still, not an unpleasant way to spend a weekend.
The whole area seems caught between a desire to modernize and a nostalgia for an America that I think no longer exists. It went out with the Eisenhower administration. It was during this administration that our motel was last decorated. Suffice is to say that the photos shown on the website bear no resemblance to our accommodations. Never mind. It was clean and tidy even if the only toiletries provided was a wafer of soap. Alma and I began to judge establishments based on the quality and quantity of soap available. Since we are now relegated to looking for hand soap in the mountains, it was time to go back to Ceol Mor and warm weather and continuing the organization of the boat for her upcoming departure.
