Leaving for the Summer

 

The time, as they say, has whizzed by. After the departure of the last Family group I had just over three weeks to get everything sorted out and completed by the time I followed them over the Atlantic. There were tight margins;  my landlady in the big house has just a day and a half to swill the house out before the first bunch of out-of-state trippers arrive. Over the summer the house will go to two groups of them, both paying far, far more rent than I did simply because it's the Summer season in Newport. Since I had always planned to return to the UK for the summer anyway, this arrangement worked well for all parties.

            Although in just a couple of weeks Summer had really arrived with temperatures already in the 80s, it was a lot cooler than down south. Newport apparently started to be seen as a cool summer sea-side retreat back before the Civil War when Southern plantation owners came up here for the season. I learned this in one of the three houses I managed to see over this period (making the most of my season ticket !) Chepstow, Hunter House and Kingscote. 

 Belcourt directly opposite the house will have to wait until I come back. The mansions are all very different But Chepstow and Hunter House are both crammed with stuff and look as though they've been lived rather than danced in. Kingscote, (pictured above) was different -prized as an early, mid 19th Century example of 'shingle architecture' and full of wonderful wood work.  Great collections of furniture and art. Once when 'my' coffee shop at the Gateway was full (damn tourists ! ) on the way back I thought to take advantage of my season ticket and have coffee in the Marble House Chinese tea pavilion and read my Wall Street Journal. (Much better for foreign news and arts than either the New York Times or the Washington Post, if slightly less hostile to Trump)  That was a good move. I could also pat Cherry's Liondog at the entrance on the way out.

             

            The other big event of the period was the Graduation ceremony to mark the end of their courses for around about 300 students at the Naval War College. Having endured all too many of these at other places in the past,  I was mainly interested in this one to see how the American navy does it. It was held in a big marquee on the waterside lawn in front of the College. Fortunately, the marquee didn't have any 'sidewalls'  and there was a nice breeze blowing, otherwise we academics all in our suits and fancy regalia would have been roasted. Here the custom is for all the students to walk from the College to the Marquee in two lines in their dress uniforms between two lines of clapping faculty. I was struck by how happy and excited most of them looked - proud of their achievement rather than just glad to be out of the place we all hoped. All the families were there in the marquee too also very excited - lots of photos.

            Then the band, the national anthem, and the beginning of the presentations, which went on for an hour or so. I was amongst the first, getting my honorific certificate and the great heavy metal medal specially designed for winners of the Hattendorf  prize, thrust into my hands by the very affable Secretary of the Navy, Richard Spencer. A happy event.

 

No hint here of the unprecedented convulsions the College has been going through with our Admiral being 'relieved of his duty' pending an investigation - unfairly most of us think, but what do we know. He certainly had an informal style, one of his 'crimes' being to have a margarita machine in his office. Because of that he's not in the picture and his civilian deputy (the guy in the fancy yellow) presided instead  

            After that a brief 'run-down period' as they say in the Navy.  I had one unexpected visitor - a little vole like thing running about in the downstairs living room. The Lord knows how he got in. I managed to scoop him up and return him to the wild outside. The weather was good for sessions outside on the patio beside the headless statue of a classical lady. I also managed a couple of swims at the Reject's Beach (is the public beach used by those who can't get into the very exclusive Bailey's Beach Club). The latter can be seen on the extreme left of the picture. The water was cold - almost of Cornish standards, flat, smooth and shallow - not really very exciting.  The beach quite populated but not crowded.

One reason for this as that car-parking in the whole area is forbidden, so it's largely limited to those who can cycle or walk there with all their stuff, or I suppose catch the bus. Until living on Bellevue Avenue and seeing such things as this, I really hadn't realised how pervasive are the social divides even in the land of the free. I suppose that it depends on what you mean by 'free.' Here as elsewhere, its analogous to all of us being free to stay at the Ritz, I suppose.

            I also finished stuff off as much as I could before leaving (wanting to keep as much of the Summer break free for family visits and house and garden maintenance as possible). There was a conference on the Indian Ocean in Washington when for the first time I flew from Providence rather than Logan - and it was all very easy. Being out in Arlington, I didn't see much of the nation's capital this time and for once went with minimal kit to keep things simple.  Another small on-site conference was squeezed in as well and the final pack-up and sort out of what in the house was going to be left in suitcases in the car in the garage until I get back, and what I was taking back home over the pond. It all seemed strangely well-organised and hassle free. The only thing I hadn't been able to organise was the road test part of my driving licence application. That will have to wait until I come back. Otherwise all was easy and effortless as I found myself back at Logan waiting for the flight home.