Our story left off at a little motel in Burlington, VT where a dog greeted me in the office when I checked in and out. That alone totally rocked. Our last day in Vermont was a rainy one. Like, a really rainy one. In fact, it didn't stop POURING until we got to our next destination. Rain always makes driving the biggest chore ever. And for the record, flip flops are not the best thing to wear in such conditions....
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| The instagram filter certainly enhances the gloom |
The day started with us meeting Erik for some bagels at the Burlington Bagel Cafe. I had a Cheddar Dill bagel with veggie cream cheese. I think that just about says it. I approved it as a resident of NYC. We said our good byes to Erik after we ate, then headed to Loew's to fix our one car obstacle the entire trip. Basically one of the screws on Ryan's license plate holder kept coming loose, and I have learned from experience that you don't want your back license plate to fall off. The cops WILL notice (even if the back of your '95 Ford Taurus is completely smashed because an SVU rear-ended you while speeding down Center St. to buy cigarettes on their lunch break), and they will write you a ticket. And you'll forget to start crying to weasel your way out of it.
Anyhow, Ryan ended up being able to fix it, and we headed on out to Waterbury, VT: home of Ben & Jerry's. I've wanted to visit the Ben & Jerry's Factory for quite some time now. Probably at least since my freshman year of college during which I was their best customer, buying pints of Chubby Hubby whenever I had a bad day and eating it while venting with my roommates. Did I mention I gained the Freshman 30 during that year?
We trudged through the rain from the parking lot up to the building, bought our tickets for a tour, then just kind of got out of the way of the other tourists. Our tour guide was great, super laid-back and pretty funny, probably not much older than me. She led us up the cow stairs, which were covered in paintings of cows, and had speakers playing "moos" along the way (those that couldn't/didn't want to take the stairs were directed toward the "Vanilla-vator"). We watched a short movie about the start of Ben & Jerry's and their company philosophy. It actually made me respect the company even more, even though I certainly don't need to be buying their product on a regular basis.
From there we went up to the mezzanine where we could see the production line. We couldn't take pictures, but you couldn't really see a ton of what was going on anyway. Ryan guessed correctly that they were making Peanut Butter Cup ice cream that day though. He didn't win anything. I also learned that one step of their process if pumping "Vermont air" into the ice cream. They call is "dairy air." Get it?
Next came the tasting room where they gave us samples of Stephen Colbert's Ameri-cone Dream. The samples were much bigger than expected! And the ice cream was delicious, I actually hadn't tried this kind before despite how much I like Stephen Colbert. A child asked for seconds. There were no seconds. And our tour guide told us that everyone that worked there could bring home three pints of ice cream a day. THREE! She was pretty skinny, so I had a hard time believing she took advantage of that often, but then she told us that you can barter ice cream for pretty much anything in Vermont. I mean, I would trade stuff if it meant getting ice cream in return, so I believed it.
We exited the tour at the gift shop where I bought a dog treat for my neighbor who's watching my cat (because she has a dog), and Ryan got a sweet mug. We then set out for Manchester, NH...basically because we could.
The drive was very rainy, and the highway was very boring, but we made it to Manchester in one piece, and very hungry. Other than breakfast, we had only had a sample of ice cream (we had planned on stopping at Cabot cheese to complete our dairy tour of Vermont, but it turned out to be pretty out of the way), so our priority was food.
I had made our hotel reservation from my phone during our drive, and had apparently booked a smoking room without knowing. As a New Yorker, I forget that smoking in enclosed places is kind of normal in other states, and I still find it unacceptable. We were able to switch to a non-smoking room, but not without being scolded by the man at the front desk first. He told us more than once that we were lucky we could even get a non-smoking room at this point because of the NASCAR race coming up this weekend, and all the rates are going up because of the NASCAR race, and every year the NASCAR race fills all the hotels, and the NASCAR race makes all the rates go up. And then he told me he's been in this business for 16 years and - because he was trying to help us for the future - you should always call the hotel after making a reservation online. Sorry buddy, but doesn't that defeat the purpose of me making it online? Isn't technology pretty much reliable at this point? He told me that in another situation like this, someone took a swing at him because they couldn't get the room they wanted. I was about to take a swing at him if he said NASCAR one more time....
We didn't feel like hanging out in the room all night, so we ventured over to a mall and ate at a Bertucci's. It's a chain Italian restaurant, but because we don't have them anywhere near where we live, we found it acceptable on vacation. And we were hungry. So we ordered sangria, an appetizer of this cheesey artichoke dip, a side salad each, and big plates of pasta...which we both pretty much finished. We had an awesome waitress who joked around with us a lot, and upon seeing our clean plates, she quoted Anchorman in saying: "I'm not even mad, I'm just impressed!"
And then we went back to the hotel and lazily lounged around in carbohydrate comas.
The hotel check-out was at 11 am this morning, so we headed out to the next destination: Shrewsbury, MA. It only took an hour and 15 minutes to get here, and I drove on highways for the first time in forever! Seriously, I even used cruise control. Cruise control is one of the best things ever invented. I only experienced a stereotypical angry Massachusetts driver as I got off the last exit and had to make a left turn onto a busy street where there wasn't a light, just a stop sign, and as he hemmed and hawed while I DIDN'T turn into oncoming traffic, I remembered reasons why I don't miss driving. It's all about the other drivers.
Before meeting up with my best friend since birth, Rae, we explored the area between Shrewsbury and Southborough, stopping at Newbury Comics, Target, and (wait for it) Wegman's.
I can't even begin to tell you how much I've missed Wegman's. You can keep your Whole Foods and Trader Joe's and whatever other "awesome" grocery stores you may claim you have, give me Wegman's and I will be in heaven. We got subs from there for lunch and I swear I heard the "Hallelujah Chorus" play as I took a bite. It was my 7 inch piece of home while on vacation. And thinking back, I didn't even check to see if they sold Bison dip, because I would've bought it in bulk and bought a cooler to bring it all back to the city with me. Seriously people, it's that good. And worth it.
We went to a little bar and grill with Rae where I got a mushroom and swiss burger with BBQ sauce, and everything was served with like, a pound of french fries. Delicious french fries. As we all sat there talking about how there were so many french fried, I agreed and continued to eat them ALL. And then I ate some of Ryan's. don't judge me, I ran 13.35 miles three days ago.
And now, we're once again lounging around in food comas. I love vacation. So. Much. Or maybe I just love food. Or the company. Or the food.
Until next time...
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