Day 92. Tuesday 30th July. Cape Cod, Mass. to Foster, Rhode Island.

A cold but refreshing shower, it’s muggy at 9am!

The sat-nav was set for Dennis, Cape Cod, mainly because that was the town closest to the coast of Cape Cod bay. 

The drive from our State run camp site, was through wooded glades and past beautifully kept period houses. It’s a very civilised part of the country and no doubt the real estate prices reflect that. 

Finding a beach, I went in for a paddle but Jen had more ambitious plans. Into the back of the Land Rover and out she comes with her swimming costume on. After walking out quite a way, she was still only up to her knees, plonked herself down, gingerly at first, to cool down. 

The next place on the agenda was Hyannis, home of the Kennedy’s. The Kennedy mansion is only visible from a boat by taking a tour. We didn’t need to see it that much. However, visiting the JFK Museum was a must. A stately house on the Main Street has been turned into a JFK and Kennedy family shrine. Some lovely photos that reflected a fairytale existence. There was no mention of health issues or his shameful assassination.

I have to say though, like most of the world at the time of JFK’s rise, at age 18 & 19,  I was glued to the radio to hear every one of his speeches and announcements and devastated at his early demise. There has been so much speculation of who was involved. J Edgar Hoover, CIA, Cubans, The Mob, in JFK’s assassination. The whole saga is a festering sore on the American image and will remain so with Trump adding his name to the deniers of access to the truth.

I couldn’t complete the full tour of the house.

We, or should I say, I made a decision to get ourselves clear of this part of America. Too many people, too many cars, too difficult to relax and enjoy the lovely part of the world it may be. So, we set the sat-nav guide to New Bedford and points due west. 

The reason for calling into New Bedford was that it and Nantucket were once home to the largest whaling fleet in the world. A number of whalers made it down to New Zealand in the late 1700’s and early 1800’s. One of them played an unwitting part in capturing a stolen ship sailed by escaped convicts from Australia, which sailed into Russell harbour with the intention of settling down in NZ. 

New Bedford is now a large city and we made a beeline straight for the waterfront. The only ships we saw were dozens of fishing trawlers tied up, three and four wide at the wharf. It must be off season. 

The next hurdle, traffic wise, was Providence, in the tiny state of Rhode Island. Providence is a big busy bustling industrial city. There are lots of 1800 and early 1900 factories rotting away unused now. Heading further west, we took Highway 6 rather than hugging the coast and ending up in the sprawl of New York. The idea is to enjoy the smaller less busy secondary roads and towns.

The sat-nav was set again for the town of Willimantic still 45miles  away but a Camping sign on roadside took is down a narrow road a couple of miles and into a lovely site. Not very busy but still expensive at $40. 


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