So tonight is my last with the mighty Chevy Cruze (*cough*). Look it hasn't broken down, run out of fuel or done anything catastrophic. It has kept giving me tyre (sorry I mean tire) pressure warnings. The first one came on just as I was leaving Charleston, South Carolina. This was while I was being pelted with rain from the tail of a hurricane. So I found somewhere to pull up, covered myself in a jacket and checked the tire pressure, but according to the guage the tires were fine. I persistently got the same warning no matter how many times I reset it so I checked again with another gauge. Same result, tire pressure was a little more than it should have been but is still told me to add air. I gave up. Then two days ago I got an oil warning light telling me its time for an oil change. Well that's not my problem so Hertz can have the car back tomorrow and fix it all for themselves.
I needed to get some laundry done so I have pulled into a little place in Waterford, Connecticut for the night that has a guest laundry. That should leave me with ample clothes for my last week in the Big Apple. With expectations so high I am wary that I may be dissappointed. Time will tell.
Anyway it is a sleepy little town close to a place called Old Lyme (you would be hard pressed to find a town's name that is less attractive). Its recent claim to fame being it's where Lyme disease was discovered doesn't help much either. What it does have is The Florence Griswold Museum based on an arts colony founded in 1899 that pioneered American impressionism. I didn't even know American impressionism was a thing. It is focused around an old mansion built in 1817. As the family fortunes declined it became a ladies finishing school and then a boarding house. It was during the boarding house phase that the artist colony started.
From 1899 to 1937, when the owner Florence Griswold died, artists would come through during the summer and autumn months to share ideas and criticism, paint the local scenery and exhibit and sell their work. Many of the artists struggled to pay their way so much of the house is actually covered in artwork either gifted to Florence or painted directly on to the walls and the doors. There is also an attached museum featuring other periods of Connecticut art and a cafe that looks over the Lieutenant River.
All very pleasant, with two notable exceptions. Firstly there were lots of crotchedy old art snobs there when I was visiting. They were aghast that I knew nothing of American impressionism. I asked one of them what she knew about the Heidelberg School (an Australian art movement with impressionist leanings) and she quickly shut up. I consoled myself by thinking they would all be dead soon and that helped drown out their inane banter. The second things was all the prebuscent girls running round dressed as faeries (apparently they aren't fairys anymore). In an obvious attempt to cash in on their location the entire month of October saw the grounds converted into a faerie garden complete with castles and other accountrement. All very cute but I did not feel particulalrly comfortable wandering around the estate as a single middle aged male.
I take on New York, New York tomorrow. Unlike those Australian towns that were so good they named them twice, this is both a city and a state. Its exactly 120 miles and the sat nav says I can do it in 2 hours and 13 minutes, which is absolute crap. I have to have the car back by 4.00pm, I am aiming for 2.00pm. That way I should be in the hotel by 4.00pm and then its Saturday night.
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