Over the River and Through the Woods... We Hope

Congratulations to MAREN, winner of a copy of Maddie Day's DEADLY CRUSH! (Maren, contact Edith@Edithmaxwell.com to tell her where to send your book.)

JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: It’s five days before Thanksgiving, and while some of us are polishing silver and calculating how many pounds of turkey per guest, many of us are checking the oil or packing our carry-ons in anticipation of the dreaded Journey to Thanksgiving. 

Obviously, it’s not always dreaded. When we got out of the Army and moved back to my mom’s native New York, we always spent the holiday at my Aunt and Uncle’s home outside Utica. It was about an hours’ drive, literally over the river and through the woods, and even in the upstate NY snow belt, it wasn’t usually coming down too hard at the end of November. At the conclusion of the trip, the promise of good food and wine (for the adults) and visiting the neighbor's horses (for the kids) was well worth the effort. 

 

Moving to DC for grad school threw a wrench into that easy jaunt. I had to fly if I was going to make it home and still get back to class the next Monday. This was the dawn of low-fare airlines in the US, and I spent one miserable day-before-Thanksgiving trying to bushwhack my way through the transportation system with my new-ish boyfriend, a law student named Ross Hugo-Vidal. 

 

We took the MARC train from Washington to BWI Airport for our flight on People's Express (anyone remember them?) But, alas, it was one of those years when it was snowing like mad in Syracuse, and we got stuck in the brand-new Newark airport. The People's Express terminal was still unfinished, and had no chairs. We spent hours alternating sitting on our luggage, and on the chilly floor. There were no cell phones in those days, children, so we had to make regular visits to the help desk to beg for news. 

 

Eventually, we were herded onto a plane bound for Rochester (where it was also snowing.) Only an hour and twenty minutes away from home! Except by the time we arrived, it was close to midnight, all the services were shutting down, and the weather was worsening. We split up - I stood in line to get a hotel voucher from the airline's customer service, and Ross ran to the Avis desk and rented one of the last cars available.

 

The next morning, the storm had passed and he drove us to my folk's place. My mom always said take a challenging trip with someone you're serious about; it shows if they have the right stuff to be a good partner. It did, and he was, and I married him eighteen months later.

 

 

As parents ourselves, we fell into a three-year rhythm: One year hosting, the second with local friends, and the third trekking down to DC to join the family there. I just checked with Google Maps, and it tells me the average driving time between my house and my sister's is 8 hours 40 minutes to 11 hours 50 minutes. Friends, this is a foul lie. We never made the drive in less than 13 hours, and on several occasions it took up to 16 hours.  

There was the year it rained so torrentially in the Philadelphia area the NJ Turnpike closed down and we had to figure out how to navigate local surface roads, via maps and following the unending stream of traffic. Did I mention the NJ streets were also flooding?

 

There were two separate occasions of an overwrought teen leaping out of the car at a stop and refusing to get back in. There was the time we were staying at a hotel instead of at Barb's and while trying to navigate there, I accidentally drove through the Pentagon parking lot. Late at night. The Pentagon police who stopped me were very sweet.

There was a year when there was a cattle truck accident on Interstate 95, and the traffic was so backed up we didn't arrive in Northampton, to drop Victoria at her college, until 3am. We spent $250 for a hotel room we used for five hours. 

This Thanksgiving, I'm journeying again to DC, but this time, solo, and flying (something financially out of reach for a family of five.) I'm also hedging my bets by leaving on Tuesday morning and returning on Friday night. I look forward to smiling down at the traffic along the way. Unless, of course, there's snow...

Dear readers, what are your memorable Thanksgiving journeys?

Like A Rolling Stone

RHYS BOWEN: During the past three days I have flown from Mexico where I was celebrating with our entire family to our condo in Arizona and then driven from Arizona back to our house in California. It sometimes seems that I spend my life planning what to wear in a certain place, packing, then unpacking and doing laundry. One thing is certain, I am always on the move. (Though maybe not as frequently as Hank!)

One of my great-great grandfathers was disinherited for running off and marrying a gypsy. My French great grandmother Josephine went out to Australia by ship in her eighties. I blame them for this desire to wander. It has certainly been with me all my life, ever since I waded out into the sea, wearing only my sunbonnet at the age of two and had to be rescued when the water rose up to my neck. I went across Europe on my own in my early teens. At fifteen I crossed Paris alone from one station to another to join family friends in the French Alps.

I always dreamed of going to Australia and put this plan into action when I was 24. I'd only just arrived there when I met a charming Englishman and married him. He was heading to California. We married and the rest is history. Luckily he was with an airline so we have traveled the world ever since. We've stayed in a houseboat on a lake in Kashmir. We drove in a jeep up to Ladakh. We have visited Uluru and Kakadu in the Australian Outback. And I can't see us slowing down any time soon.

Whenever I get home I swear that I will stay put for a while. I will put down roots and enjoy my surroundings. But within a week or two I spot a plane flying overhead and find myself wondering where it is headed and where I might be heading next. So it's definitely in the genes.

I've come to the conclusion that humans are divided into two types: rolling stones and moss gatherers. When I was young there were people in my village who had never been up to London. What's more they had no interest in traveling more than ten miles from their home. I suppose there are still people like that today.

There are advantages and disadvantages to being a rolling stone and moving from place to place. Life has been a succession of hellos and goodbyes. I have memories of coming out of customs at an airport and seeing a face light up when I arrive. And memories of standing on a platform, waving goodbye until the train disappears around a bend. I always seem to have people I'm missing and wish were closer to me. I spent most of my adult life on another continent from my parents and childhood friends. My parents only saw my children at the most once a year. They never had the warm satisfaction of running into Nana's house to tell the latest news the way my grandchildren do. I had to agonize when I got a phonecall to say my father was in hospital in England and then later in Australia. How serious was it this time? Did I try to farm out the children and catch the next plane? Would I regret it forever if I didn't go?

Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I'd stayed put in England and married the very suitable young man from Harrow and Oxford. Would I have been bored? Would I still have longed to travel? Would I have turned him into a traveler? Or would I have settled into the role of valuable village lady, running the women's institute and the flower show? (Somehow I can't picture this)

It is interesting that my fellow Jungle Reds all seem to do a lot of traveling too. We know that Hank is somewhere different almost every weekend, Debs is in England for part of the year. Lucy spends her winters in Key West, Julia spends most of her time driving her offspring these days but has lived in many parts of the world. So I'm wondering if the same inquiring mind that wants to see other places, other people, is what makes a good writer too? What do you think?

How about you, dear Readers? Are you rolling stones too?

Travels with Charlie...and John...and Tonka...and Yoda

LUCY BURDETTE: John and I have always been a little smug about traveling light. I have to admit that if we travel with another couple, it's possible that we badger them into only bringing carry-on luggage. If I can fit everything into this suitcase (which we call "the mini") and a backpack, I'm especially pleased.





Which is why some of our friends might get a giggle about our trips between Key West and Connecticut. We jam a Subaru wagon plus the pod strapped on top to the absolute brim. I blame the extra baggage on the animals, John is not so sure. He's not animal crazy the way I am, so the idea of schlepping a big Australian Shepherd and a cat 2000 miles each way seems a bit absurd to him. (So as you can tell, he's a very nice man:).)

the boys in the back seat

Yoda rides in a carrier and is an exemplary traveler--not a peep after his first outraged meow as he's zipped into the box. Tonka is a good companion too. Besides them, we also need an enormous sack of their special senior food and medications, and even a bag of ringer IV fluids to treat Yoda's kidney condition. And the litter box… I prefer the Cedarific brand of litter, which is light and smells better. The disadvantage is that he drags it all over whatever room we're staying in. And you can't find it in Florida so we drag giant bags of that around with us too...

Yoda relaxing in the hotel

We stayed in quite a nice hotel in DC this time to visit our son, and of course the first criterion was pet-friendly. (Not that easy with a cat!) As we were leaving, everyone in the lobby exclaimed over the dog. The distracted bellhop was getting ready to sling Yoda's carrier onto the cart.

"Be careful," I said, "there's a cat in there."

"Of course ma'am," he said, and tucked the kennel in gently next to the litter box and the massive sack of pet supplies. 

Then he picked up the cooler. "What's in here, the rabbit?" 

We all burst out laughing.


Are you a light traveler or do you need a lot of extras just in case?