The awful end to a mostly good week. Plus!! Special guest stars, a popular bodily function and the Silent Treatment.

As I mentioned in the last blog the drive back from Cape Cod was a complete nightmare. Complete with a strange command from the portable GPS that sent us on a road that we weren't familiar with, blinding rain, a near accident, complete with a Janet Leigh like scream from "Psycho". And the long quiet stretch that I thought was just a long quiet stretch. It turns out that at some point at some time since we left the island I was insensitive. It was a complete mystery to me about my insensitivity. I asked and begged for Arlene to tell me where I crossed the line, but she wouldn't tell me.
"You should know!"
Yes I should know so please tell me?! She never did. She seemed to get over my faux pas and settled in for some mutual misery as we drove unknown roads in a driving rain. Here's a video of the drive down, the beautiful weather for three days and a bit of the ride from hell back. I made a mistake on a caption. We did not catch the ferry at 8;15a.m. and begin the drive home at 9:20a.m. At 8;15 we were eating breakfast. We weren't sure if we were leaving from Oak Bluffs or Vineyard Haven. We left the hotel at check out, 11a.m. and headed to the harbor. We then learned of the change of harbors because of the storm. We caught the 12:15 ferry out of Vineyard Haven. And another note on the captions they appear an instant too soon in most cases. Apart from that it's a masterpiece.

So we're sitting in the less than glamorous ferry for the ride back to Woods Hole in Falmouth. By the way you will hear the name Woods Hole on the national news from time to time because that is the location of the Woods Hole Oceanographic Institute. Any way as we are underway the odor of garbage permeates the smallish cabin of the ferry, for the truck, which we had to follow from Oak Bluffs to Vineyard Haven when we learned of the switching of the docks because of the changing weather, was parked right under the open windows of the cabin.  Oak Bluffs harbor goes out to open ocean whereas The Vineyard Haven harbor is protected by a bay. I suppose this foul odor was a precursor to the ride ahead of us. It was going to stink. The urge for a popular bodily function became apparent to me. There was a men's "rest room" right in front of me and my need to "rest" was coming on strong owing to two cups of coffee at breakfast. Somebody came out of the rest room and I got  look inside. Very small and not a lot of privacy from what I saw. The urge to rest grew stronger and I decided that if I don't take care of this now I would be forever be holding my peace. Figuratively speaking of course. I went in. It was pretty grungy and I was out of there as quick as possible. The was a ladies rest room. The smell of garbage was sickening. We decided to go sit in the car on deck. But before we left the cabin I ask Arlene if she needed to use the facilities before we went back to the car. She was not enthusiastic about the ferry's ladies room for which I cannot blame her. Still any port in a storm. It will be a long time before we arrive anywhere where we can stop. She said she was fine. She apparently could hold off on "resting". OK.

We go back to the car for the last half hour of the ride. We dock and soon are driving off the boat. We enter a parking lot and there are cars coming in all directions. I make my way towards the exit. Just as I'm about to turn onto the street, Arlene says, "Go left towards those buildings."

Huh? How? We're about to take a right onto the road and there's no way I can take a left. "Why did you want me to take a left?"
She replied, "Because I wanted to use the rest rooms in that harbor building."
"Well why didn't you say that before we left the boat?" 
She answered, "I'm OK. I can wait."

As we drive away from Cape Cod the rain and wind intensify. Sometimes it's hard to see out the window. As we drove I asked Arlene if she would like me to stop at any restaurant so she could "rest". I was willing to buy something just so she could "rest".
"No. I'm alright."
I'm not sure how much time has elapsed since we left the ferry. Maybe 40 or 50 minutes. The computerized woman's voice on my GPS receiver tells me to take the next exit. She hasn't failed me yet though I'm still not really sure of the roads down this way. I have to move a lane over to the far right lane for the exit. I check my mirrors. It's hard to see. Arlene says it looks clear. Directional on I begin to move to the right. Suddenly Arlene lets out a blood curdling scream straight out of a horror movie. And there right next to my right front door is another car. We are inches apart! I cut back into my original lane. After a couple of seconds to calm down Arlene apologized for screaming. No apology was needed. It was terrifying.

Maybe 15 or 20 minutes pass. We are both quiet. We just want to be home. The GPS lady says, "Traffic alert. Recalculating."
She has never said traffic alert in the four years of use. What does that mean? We soon get new orders to take a specific exit. 20, 30, 40 minutes later, who knows, Arlene turns her body to the right, looking like she might be taking a little snooze. More time passes. I put my hand on Arlene's leg and say, How're you doing?"
"Don't talk to me!"
"Huh?"
"You're so insensitive sometimes!"
"Did I say something? Did I do something?"
"Never Mind."
I begged for an explanation but all I got was silence.
The silent treatment continued for a while. Now I begin to feel the urge to "rest". But where. This will only add to the agony of the ride. So now there are two of us in silent agony, who have to go. In my head I'm sure the GPS would eventually get us home. My car compass showed we were heading in the right general direction, N/NE. Why were we approaching Boston from this part of the state when there are a couple of  highway's that go right from the Cape through Boston, with an exit ramp a minute or two from my driveway. I recognized the names of the cities on signs but wasn't really sure where they were in relation to Boston.

Arlene suddenly resumes a normal sitting position and announces that she's OK. She's over it. Over What? I decide to give the matter a rest. The GPS has us take another exit and soon we found ourselves on city streets. Crowded, with traffic lights, buses, lots of cars and heavy rain. We know where we are. We're in Dorchester. A suburb, considered part of Boston. The Expressway (in name only) was somewhere to our right. I've never been in Dorchester. I don't know the streets. The GPS lady remains silent. The mood lightens up a bit, though not that much when you have to really go, we know we still have a long slog ahead of us. Did I mention it was raining?

OH NO! That guy at the lights wants to take a left into the on coming lane! We're not going to move! It was slow and painful through Dorchester.. Suddenly we saw a sign for Rt. 93 North. A road we should have been on for 20 or 30 miles. I'll cut this short right here. We got on 93 and crawled the last 6 or 7 miles.

We pulled onto the driveway and made tracks for the door. Got inside and took care of business. We both sat down. I had a couple of beers in the refrigerator and we just relaxed for a bit. I checked my phone messages. It was the usual stuff untill the very last message. It was from the Steamship Authority informing me that the ferry for Woods Hole, Falmouth would be leaving from Vineyard Haven instead of Oak Bluffs because of the storm. I never gave them my cell phone number. Only my home phone. A fitting end to a strange vacation week. Oh and concerning my mysterious indescretion, I think I've got it figured out, but that's for another blog. I can't write anymore.

Here's a slide show of some of the pictures.

     OK it's the last day of my vacation and I do have a few errands to run before I can settle in for the last day of my vacation. Time for some breakfast.
I'm outta here.