What to do in Hartford, Connecticut when you have too much time on your hands…

The Spring Meeting had been very fruitful and all was well until we got to the airport to go home. We were bumped to a later flight. While we waited for it we found a unique way to pass the time. We had been talking with a lady who works for the State Department and was on her way home to Wisconsin. She had been waiting for two days for a flight and was surprised to find that she would be going on this flight. As she was boarding, she asked us to do her a favor. Of course, we agreed; what else did we have to do in Hartford on a rainy Sunday morning? It had seemed so easy.

She had her ticket in hand and her cell phone glued to her ear. Apparently, the fellow at the rental agency had offered to pick up the car if she made the flight, but he had gone home and the new shift was not willing to go that extra mile for her. She was having a heated discussion with them while the North West agents were holding the plane for her. At one point she said she was not going to get on the flight, to which the gate agents were not happy, having gone overboard to make this work for her. Finally, she handed us the keys and asked us to return the car for her. It was a black SUV and was parked in the short term parking lot with the keys under the mat. It sounded easy. It would give us something to do while we waited for the next plane. She said we could use it to go sightseeing while we waited for our own flight.

She handed us the keys, waved goodbye, and headed down the ramp. Always happy to do a favor, we toddled off to find the car. How hard could this be? Hartford is certainly a burg and short term parking is a small area. We walked from one end to the other and did not see a black SUV. We walked it again in case we had been busy talking and missed it, but there was no black SUV anywhere. We decided that maybe it wasn’t black and walked the lot one more time. This time we tried the doors to every SUV. I was sure we were going to be arrested for stealing a car. Everyone locks their car in Hartford. There was no SUV with an open door. We decided to try one last time. Keep in mind that we are hauling our luggage with us all this time and I am wearing a new pair on heels that had been comfortable until we decided to hike the parking lot a few times. We were starting to think this was not such a good idea.
This time we checked the front doors of every single car in the short term lot. We reached the other end of the lot once again rather discouraged when Jim cried out from his side, “Here it is!!” Note that it is, indeed, the next to the last car in the lot. It was NOT an SUV, but merely a very compact station wagon. No wonder it had been so hard to find. Maybe we have been living in the land of full size pickups for too long. I would never have considered this to be an SUV.

It took awhile to find the keys which were supposed to be under the mat. This is when we began to wonder about liability. We had both agreed to drive our own rental car and signed all the appropriate paperwork, but we had nothing to allow us to drive this one. Here we were faced with the possible ramifications of liability in case of an accident. We finally decided to wing and pray for the best. Jim decided to drive the car. It seemed like a good idea at the time.
We headed for the exit. She had given us a ten-dollar bill to pay for the parking, but, of course, it was not enough. We paid the difference and started looking for the rental agency. We went first to the one where we had just left our own rental car to see if we could get it back at the phenomenal rate Jim had negotiated. Of course, it was too late. We had to rent a new one. It cost us more than the first one had for two days. Oh well.
Now we were off to return the black SUV. I got in and found it was already on empty. We should have asked for directions. Aren’t all rental agencies in a row at most airports? Almost. All but this one. We drove around for a bit and I wondered if there was enough gas. Once, it coughed and I thought I was done for. It was still pouring down. I didn’t relish the idea of running out of gas, especially as it wasn’t even our car.

Finally, we pulled into the lot and took the keys to the counter. It was the most implausible story. The girls at the counter took the keys after we related the crazy story of how we had acquired the car. Note that the black SUV is smaller than the compact car we had rented.

We spent the rest of the rainy day at the Mark Twain House. It is a most interesting complex that I am glad to have seen. Somehow it is not what I would have expected. I hadn’t realized he lived in Hartford. Somehow, I just assumed he lived his whole live near the Mississippi. The house is an architectural wonder. The rain came down in torrents, but that didn't dampen our spirits. Tiffany, as in Tiffany glass, was the architect. The money that was spent was enormous even then. Every modern convenience was installed. It would have been quite the place to visit in its heyday.

A Rainy Day in Vilnius

It has rained every day since we arrived. The temperatures have been in the sixties. This is not the Lithuania we have come to know so well. We sit at the outside tables despite the rain. Jim is trying to ignore the raindrops that were running down his neck.

The skyline is so pretty in Old Town. They say there are no two crosses alike in Vilnius. We are endeavoring to check this out for ourselves. We have walked all through the Old Town over the years we have been coming here.

After a full day of teaching, we meet at Sopranos for an evening ice cream. The camaraderie makes this venture such a wonderful adventure summer after summer.

Alberto tells a story about when his family first came to America. His mother did not speak English. When she wanted to mail a letter home, she took it to the post office, held it in one hand as she mimed licking the stamp and pasting it on the envelope. Then she smacked the stamp as the plane took off, indicating that it should be an air mail stamp.

And now it is time to take the bus back to the PPRC.

Home from Kernave

What a lovely afternoon it had been in Kernave! We were hungry and ready to call it a day. There was a cute little bar along the way back to the car, but Birute would have none of it. She knew of a better place about ten kilometers on the road back to Vilnius. Since we were not starving, we decided that we could wait. She was so right, as it turns out.

We arrived at this regional park and pulled into this little restaurant. From the front it looks like any other country restaurant, but that is where the resemblance ends. We walked past the indoor seating to the patio area. It was actually a long way out to the seating area. We passed an aquarium suspended from a tree. There were all sorts of entertainments for children.

The waitresses do not serve on the patio and so we had to make do!!

We found a place in the corner and were awestruck by the view. I had heard many stories of the forests in Lithuania over the years I have been coming to APPLE. Tales of the Freedom Fighters living in the forests. The forests I have encountered so far are more like woods. The stories tell of whole regiments living in the forest, hiding from the various invading armies. Frankly, I often wondered how they hid in the few acres of woods. I figured the invaders weren’t really interested in finding them or didn’t know where to look. It would seem easy enough to form a line of soldiers to walk the woods I have seen from one side to the other to roust the Freedom Fighters. I now have an entirely different perspective.

We looked out over the tops of some mammoth trees. The Neris River flowed by the restaurant on its way to Vilnius. As we peered out over the trees, we saw something very large reflecting in the sunlight. All indications were that it was Vilnius that would be twenty kilometers away. This is a forest. I can now picture those Freedom Fighters foraging through the forest, outsmarting the invading armies, wreaking havoc in surprise attacks. It all makes more sense now.

Dinner was fabulous. We watched the cooks grilling our meat on an outside grill. We laughed our way through two huge plates of duona. I have never had this anywhere except Lithuania. First dark bread is cut into fingers and fried. Then it is slathered with a mayonnaise and cheese sauce. There is nothing better!

Behind the seating area was a zip line – probably for little kids. We got it into our minds that we should try it. I walked the contraption to the top of the hill, put my head through it and sat on the seat. I gave it a kick-start and flew to the bottom of the hill. I felt like a kid again. Soon, everyone was trying it. None of us was disappointed. It is a shame that we all had to grow up.