Small little town with a real big stone edifice of a building meeting you as you cross over the Susquehanna river from the south. Nice book store downtown with grumpy workers who made me feel like a criminal for looking through a photo book of China. Left quickly without buying anything. Awesome Irish bar next to the dunkin donuts. Ancient beautifully worked wooden bar and a sign on the wall counting down the days to St. Patricks day. I really enjoy little efforts like this: everyday the lights are turned on, the front door unlocked, and another day is ticked off to St. Patrick’s day. This little countdown became just as essential of a routine as hooking fresh beer up to the taps. The bartender was all Irish and tried to act rude…but it was all and act and was apparent. My grilled cheese in a basket was grilled cheese and the Labatt beer satisfying.
Small Pennsylvania town on the Susquehanna in the snowy hills. I dug it. Stayed at a nice little hotel in the countryside called the Sunrise Inn. The propreiters were an older Indian couple. Indian owned hotels in the States, or “curry inns” as Americans call them, are usually the best places to stay that one can find; if you dont mind that the furniture does not always match, that there may be clashing color schemes and the paintins on the walls are actualy meant to be looked at. In short, they are not mono-culturalized- the plague that has become America; what I can not tolerate most about the country where I was born.
The Archaeology was just exercise. We did not find any sites in the hills and valleys. It was real cold and I loved it. We went outside before sunrise and returned after the sun had set; outside for the entirety of the day. 10 hours a day, seven days a week. I found a certain bit of romance in this go.