(road trip days 9 and 10)

Well, this is it. The final days of what probably sounds like the endless road trip. It was a great ride. Many memories. A lot of sleep and rest. A lot of good food and expensive alcohol. Moments that seemed to “just happen,” like magic, my mom said.

I have to say at this point that I overpacked. We left Maryland on August 31^st, still summer. We were in shorts from there to North Carolina on Friday, September 6^th. I packed for our trip considering temps in the 80s and got the shock of my life in Banner Elk where the temps plummeted to the low 50s. I only had one sweatshirt and a denim jacket. Tip for going to Oz: wear layers and prepare to freeze your ass off until the sun burns off the fog.

The last hour and a half of the drive to Ocean City I spent in the passenger seat envisioning the sight of the Route 50 bridge and how wonderful it was going to be. Road trips are exhausting. Even when you’re the passenger.

In the planning stages of this road trip, we thought we would go first to Bourbon Trace in Kentucky. Tour reservations weren’t available and, while I kept an eye on the release of our dates, suddenly they were filled and that was that. That’s how we ended up in Pigeon Forge instead. The end of the trip we discussed going to Williamsburg, Virginia.

It was actually Todd’s suggestion to drive to OCMD and finish our long trip there, just 2-1/2 hours’ drive from home. It turned out to be perfect. I booked our hotel for three days and planned to chill out the road fatigue. There’s not much to report about our stay. We went to our usual haunts because now we’re regulars and the bartenders know our faces. It was exactly how it should be, though I never made it onto the sand.

We arrived so late on Saturday night that our usual “last stop” was already closed, so we ended up at the hotel bar – yes, the same one where I was ignored twice. But you know what they say, desperate times call for desperate measures. We sat down and it just happened to be karaoke night and we got served without having to get rude. I laughed into my Tito’s and Cran thinking how far we’ve fallen… from Nashville stage bands to third-rate bar patrons singing the standard soul-crushing songs, badly. So badly in fact, that I ordered another drink so I could keep watching.

Day 9, Destination: Melfa, Virginia

No, we are not gluttons for punishment. Rob Radikal, a longtime friend and family we choose (who also, incidentally, deserves a paragraph under the cast of characters) lives there. He previously abandoned Chester County, PA for the fun and sun of coastal Florida. We’ve been hearing how great Melfa is – what the hell is Melfa? I’ve never even heard of it.

We got up leisurely on Sunday and planned to drive an hour and a half south, which we had passed the night before. I was thinking to myself, I don’t really want to go. I don’t want to get back in the car and I don’t want to leave Ocean City. But, I knew Todd really wanted to and I love him and he indulges me so much that the very least I can do is shut the hell up and show some enthusiasm.

He asked me if I wanted to drive. First mistake. I said sure. Then about a half hour or so in, I missed the turn while he was navigating with his GPS. Turn there! TURN THERE! I panicked and drove past the turn and he’s shouting at me, I told you to turn there! And I shouted back, no you didn’t! I didn’t know it was THAT turn and stop yelling at me!! I’m not yelling at you!!

The rest of the drive was silent, until I made the right-on-time turn into Rob’s “development.” A narrow road canopied by trees. It opened up to a spacious neighborhood with beautiful homes and an overwhelming sense of tranquility.

We hopped into Rob’s convertible, and he drove a quarter of a country block (seriously could walk there) and turned into what looked like a private drive – the sign even said something about video surveillance and no trespassing and then I got nervous because maybe we’re not supposed to be here? Like Rob wouldn’t know where he can and can’t go in his own neighborhood.

He told us the neighbor put up the sign because someone keeps parking in there and leaving used condoms everywhere. This clearing opens up to the Chesapeake Bay and a small boat dock. We walked down the dock and I turned a full circle taking in this incredible view while Rob pulled the crab baskets out to check the contents. There is an empty waterfront lot for sale across from Rob’s house and I’m thinking somebody needs to buy this property.

He drove us around the area –the Eastern Shore of Virginia – including a stop at a farmstand he told us about in Harborton. “They have all kinds of food there… frozen soups in the freezer, baked goods, fresh vegetables – and a box you put your money in. It’s all on the honor system!”

We pulled into an empty gravel parking lot and Rob just starts walking around and if you don’t know Rob, he makes himself at home everywhere he goes and this, too, causes me unnecessary anxiety because I don’t. So the woman who owns the stand – which in reality is not a stand but a series of small buildings, each of which is impeccably appointed and serves its own purpose – welcomed us while she was repotting plants and washing out pots.

We walked past a “restrooms” building toward the “gift shop,” which had an overstuffed blue couch and beautiful pillows, and wooden bookshelves and hutches that contained all manner of antique and collectible items. I spotted a gorgeous set of etched crystal champagne coupes with a blue base and, coming off the heels of my delicious Rainbow Room martini that reminded me of some vintage 1920s cocktail, I fell in love with them.

I picked up the one with a sticker on it: set of 7 for $20. OMG Todd, I have to have them. “Well, get them,” he said. But, not for the first time, neither of us had any cash. Rob did, and the rest is history.

The other buildings included her one-chair hair salon, another was a room with full bath for temporary stay, a kitchen where she does her baking, and she’s not done yet. What a terrific find and magic happened again!

We left there enroute to an early dinner. Rob drove us around another scenic town – Onancock – so much to ooh and aah over. I sat in the backseat with the sun on my face and the wind blowing my hair, listening to the murmur of their voices and thinking about how wonderful life is. How lucky I am.

We ate at Mallard’s on the Wharf – a charming little place with outdoor deck seating, the sun dazzling the gentle waves in the water just feet from us. I ordered the Parmesan-herb Ricotta balls served with basil aioli that were divine.

There is no other word to describe it except idyllic. The whole area is steeped in history with old homes and narrow lanes and a peaceful, easy feeling.

Day 10 – “A chance meeting“

Monday was a chill day. We went for a long walk on the boardwalk to the inlet and back. Ocean City slows down after Labor Day, except for the big Fall events like Bike Week and Oceans Calling. We arrived just before the start of Bike Week. There were a few bikes around who came early, but not a lot.

The seagulls were lined up at the Thrasher’s (French fries – for the uninitiated) counter like customers waiting to order. I’ve seen seagulls in many places, but these guys are in a class all their own. They are relentless, assertive, and unafraid.

Our hotel room was full-oceanfront and the gulls hung out on the deck below. I joked with Todd, I wonder what would happen if I threw a loaf of bread down there? when we were back in our hotel room. “Oh my God,” he said. Total carnage, I said.

Not long after, a gull appeared outside our balcony. Then another. And another. The dipwad next door was feeding the damn seagulls and they were swarming his balcony. Another magical moment, if you can call it that. It was like the universe was listening to me.

Earlier, on the walk back, a man on a motorized cart stopped us to ask where we’re from. Before we had a chance to answer, he said, “Don’t tell me you’re from Pennsylvania.” I glanced at Todd, thinking to myself, well – we ARE from Pennsylvania but we live in Maryland and, is this a good thing or a bad thing? And Todd said, “we’re from here.” “Here?” the man said. Well, I said, we grew up in PA but we live in Maryland now.

“Oh! Everyone I’ve talked to these days is from Pennsylvania.” And he’s not wrong. I’ve seen A LOT of PA tags down there.

He continues. “Do you like to read?” Does a margarita have tequila? “Yes,” I said.

Turns out he wrote a book and surprise! He has copies of it in his basket. Now before ya’ll jump up and spill your coffee, he legit wrote and published a book about his life – it even has an IBSN number – which is a helluva lot more than I’ve accomplished.

Doctor Joe, A Family Doctor in the Twentieth Century. Doctor Joseph Palmisano was a family doctor in the Baltimore area until he retired. He now lives near Ocean City, Maryland. He was kind and gave me his book with the promise to send him a check for $16 (again we were caught with no cash between the two of us).

I’ve since read the book and it was not only a great read, but I was astonished at the many coincidences. As a very young child he lived in Danville, PA and his grandmother lived in Lewisburg – areas very familiar to me as I attended Susquehanna University for two years (before transferring to NYU) in nearby Selinsgrove. His first wife had type 1 diabetes.

He joined the Navy at 18 and was stationed for a time in Guantanamo Bay as a radar operator. My paternal grandfather, a full year older than him, was also in the Navy, stationed in Guantanamo Bay as a radio operator. Probably apples to oranges, but it made the hair stand up on my arms. I don’t believe in “chance” encounters.

We left the next morning, anxious to get home and hug our pups. I got a wonderful gift on the way home that topped the magic in a way not many things can. I’m not ready to share so I’ll leave it there for right now.

That’s all folks!

Miscellaneous

A couple of photos…