Especially when you factor in the unexpected, like your rented minivan chiming at you about oil changes and low tire pressure. Thankfully the car service place we came across had a big open space and kitchen set for children, along with coloring sheets and toys. I think it was the highlight of the whole journey for Josephine. (And I had an air conditioned place to nurse Clement and a vending machine with Nutter Butters, so I wasn't complaining either).
Here are some hotel pictures from the first night. After that, I pretty much lost the energy to take any pictures at all.
We didn't stay at the Peabody Hotel in Memphis (we stayed at hotels belonging to the Marriott group the whole time to use and earn points)... but we did walk a few blocks over to watch the marching ducks before we left that morning.
Every morning and evening they make the journey from their lodging on the roof to the elaborate fountain in the lobby. Quite the ordeal. It was cute. You can read about it here.
Knoxville has an appealing downtown area. We ate an early lunch there before leaving town.
I can't believe I didn't get more accurate photos of the size of the minivan and how full it was. It occurred to me at one point during the journey, but neither of the resulting photos are very representative.
And I took all of two pictures looking outside the car, despite a good amount of pretty scenery along the drive. Here's one. Just really wasn't on my game. Did I mention I was tired?
Virginia had some truly quaint towns-- especially Lexington and Staunton. Sean did a good job researching nice pit stop places ahead of time. The whole of Interstate 81 provided quite the contrast to our final stretch, driving through lower Manhattan on a Saturday evening!
Although, I'd like to point out that the interstate in Pennsylvania and New Jersey makes a serious effort at prepping drivers for their final destination of NYC. This is what I noticed, and I found it correlated appropriately to our destination:
1. First, you experience a loss of rest (areas). My atlas, which has them marked and had been very handy with that feature, simply didn't show any in PA or NJ, along our route. A bit intimidating, bleak, depressing, what have you... but that is just the start.
2. Next I noticed multiple billboards aimed at all the heathens who choose to leave the South and drive straight towards cosmopolitan debauchery. (My soul was thus adequately prepared for the possibility of its imminent demise/dereliction.)
3. The billboards are followed by a new series of highway signage apparently directed at teaching people how to drive. Yes. While they're cruising along at a pretty 70 mph. Call me old-fashioned, but the timing just seemed off. On the other hand, I guess if the drivers don't know these basic rules, one can be grateful that they now do.
And regardless-- driving knowledge is certainly helpful if you are going to attempt to transport yourself in NYC via automobile. Point taken, Pennsylvania.
4. Those fade away in time for a series of signs indicating an increase in traffic fines. The increase does not seem to be in conjunction with a construction zone or anything temporary-- not that I noticed. So I concluded it is part of the preparation: Just get used to every expense costing twice as much as it does elsewhere.
5. New Jersey gets even more hardcore. Forget public bathrooms. The one rest stop we did find didn't have facilities (probably why it wasn't on my atlas), and you can't seem to find a convenient gas station at any exit. This, of course, is to prepare travelers for the fact that 99% of New York establishments do not acknowledge this basic human need either. It turns out the only solution (along this highway and in Manhattan, both) is Starbucks.
6. There are multiple overpasses in NJ displaying the American flag. They were dingy from car exhaust but still the most uplifting aspect of the preparation. Good to be reminded of the solemn, steadfast patriotism of NYC. (Because that is why they were there. In NJ.)
7. And lastly, as one would expect upon approaching a city that affords something like three square inches per capita, there comes the inevitable narrowing of lanes, general shortage of space, and mind-blowing feats of merging. Case in point: the Holland Tunnel...
Nine lanes of traffic mash down to two. How about that for a daily morning commute?
Here we are, waiting our turn to enter the tunnel and cross from New Jersey into Manhattan. (This is the second photo I took from the car window. We sat there so long, I ran out of crackers and got bored, so it finally dawned on me to take another photo.) Anyway, we eventually got there. Good thing we were so very PREPARED.
Funnily, while we were in the tunnel (several minutes after explaining to Josephine how the tunnel goes under the river), she piped up in a serious tone, "I don't like the tunnel. Water is for fish for swimming, not for tunnels." After a couple follow up questions, it was clear she just didn't like the concept of driving through a tunnel that went underwater. Isn't she too young for those sorts of paranoias?
Here's some of the load after a mad session of dragging things from the car up to our third floor apartment. What you can't see here is the crib frame, several bags I put straight into the kitchen, two large car seats, et al. Quite the haul. From Sean's rough estimates, the cost of three airplane tickets and all new baby gear (especially considering the organic mattress)... vs. the cost of the hotels nights we didn't have enough points for and the car rental and gas... it all worked out about the same. So the journey, while long and tedious, was worth it in my mind, as I put a good amount of value on reusing the gear we already had, being able to pack a lot more stuff than we could have if we'd flown, and avoiding the high intensity stress of an airport journey. And since I've already learned to let go of how much I value sanity and sleep, that loss didn't factor in, technically.
Now. How we get everything BACK to Texas in January... that'll be interesting...















