In the far north, the maritime provinces, Maine and parts of the north are places of small populations and country living. In the state of New York there were large expanses of isolation and ‘untouched’ scenery. It was beautiful.
When we reached Boston, the whole scenario changed. By the time we reached New York city I was literally putting a perfume soaked Kleenex to my sensitive nose. The smells were very unbelievable to my mind. I suppose one might get used to it but to me – from the wide expanses of fresh air experienced in the west I just felt sick. The traffic was heavy and confusing, especially in a semi. I understand why there is a saying in the truck world – don’t give me trips east of the Mississippi. There are low bridges, roads truckers aren’t allowed on – although people live there and require their furniture to be delivered and of course George was a moving-furniture driver.
I found it ironic that there is such loud noises and protest against Alberta for its’ ‘dirty, polluting’ oil and often these come from Eastern states and provinces. Alberta and the west in both Canada and the USA will rival and surpass most areas of the world in cleanliness. I am confused right now that there is a hysterical protest against both the Keystone Pipeline and the Northern Gate Pipeline, yet nothing is said or protested – against the dirty tankers coming to the eastern seaboard from dirty OPEC countries who do not have the rules and regulations in place that our Northern American counterparts do.
But I digress. We had to go into downtown Manhattan. First, George hired a guy to guide us to a spot near Time Square. Another driver in his company had actually got stuck in the tunnel and had to be backed out in heavy New York traffic. We had to follow a poorly marked sign to get off the bridge before we were too stuck. When we got into Manhattan, I was curious. This was New York. The traffic was everything I had heard of. There were cars parked along where George had to unload a dressmaker. But there were two lanes of parking, one for deliveries. The man my husband hired suggested I guarded the truck as they unloaded. I soon saw why this was necessary. Beside was a McDonald’s Restaurant. I watched people going in and out – some riding bikes. I didn’t know whether to laugh or call the police. The amount of bikes stolen were surprising. It was daylight and the streets were crowded. The people were fascinating to me. Often someone would walk by the trailer and look into the back, but seeing me standing there – they would move on.
Finally we were unloaded and had to take more furniture to Washington DC, so we had to leave immediately. My experience was very educational. I saw Times Square and Central Park. I would love to fly into New York and see all I missed.
When we reached Washington the sweet smells of fruit trees in blossom mixed with freshly falling rain and sunlight, caused everything to change. But that will be another story because the South Eastern Seaboard deserves its’ own story.