Last week we looked at the forecast and it said that Saturday's high would be 75F! We knew we had to go somewhere outdoors and ruled out Mystic and Sturbridge Village . . . then we remembered Plimoth Plantation, the trip that we keep planning and then having to cancel for health reasons. And here we were, relatively healthy and with good weather. So, off to Massachusetts we went for a mini-vacation.
Plimoth Plantation
I thought Plimoth Plantation was wonderful, from the recreated English village to the Wampanoag homesite, from the 17th-century food in the cafe to the children's discovery center. But best of all were the costumed role-players who portray actual 17th-century folks, complete with one of 17 or so regional British accents! It took a bit of practice to talk to them without referencing anything after 1627, and the kids were too shy to try, but I had several conversations with various women and men and learned so much. We arrived just in time to talk to one of the role players who was cooking the noontime meal, dinner, in the one-room thatched houses; she was making a boiled chicken with sorrel sauce over a fire built right on the dirt floor which smoke went up the open chimney (no damper to keep rain out!). She talked a lot about how she preferred English onions and garlic to native grown, couldn't really find uses for any native plants! They apparently even got their butter from England! And she didn't think much of cornmeal cakes for bread. Other interpreters talked about how they sprinkled water on the floor to dampen down the dust but couldn't waste ox blood on it (their cattle were mainly for work--if there were no oxen, men had to to do labor--and were trying to increase the herd), though it would really seal a dirt floor; how kids didn't do a lot of the chores we think of--like hauling water or helping with cooking or milking cows--because it was too difficult or dangerous (they could milk goats, though); how they brought all their furniture over with them, which cost a fortune to pay sailors to move things so they didn't bring much, but as everyone was a farmer in the plantation (until they worked 7 years to pay off the company for their travel, etc) and couldn't practice trades, they had to get everything like furniture, flour, even clothes from England; how they were in church all Sabbath "because it's the Lord's day not the Lord's hours!"; how they said "just so" for yes and "win-e-gar" for vinegar; me as an interpreter; how they ate "sallat" of various greens and boiled egg dressed with sugar and "winegar" and oil of olive with the knives they wore attached to their belts. Oh there was so much more but I might just bore you with recitations of pilgrim stuff. Especially if you did read Mayflower! I also really liked their costumes--the rough, heavy materials, the thin leather shoes that tied on, the tight white caps and high outdoor hats. Makes my 18th-century costume look very comfortable!
We had a fun lunch in the cafe, which offers some period foods: peppery stewed "pompion" pumpkin, cucumbers in sugar, sauteed squash, peasecod (kinda like a colonial samosa!), stuffed quahog, Indian pudding, rosewater cheesecake with almonds and raisins, spiced Shrewsbury sugar cookie, succatash with lots of meats and corn and limas, plus fried fish, lobster roll, and modern Thanksgiving dinner plate.
Then we visited the Wampanoag homesite. Here, actual Native Americans, many of them descendants of the original Wampanoag, populate the village engaging in 17th-century activities while maintaining their 21st-century attitudes. I understand the rationale behind the lack of role-playing Indians, which can be highly offensive to them. However, many of the interpreters seemed, well, bored and pissy. A few stressed that this was just a 9-5 job, that they appreciated that the museum tried to include them but . . . Of course, that sounds like I wanted happy, cooperative natives, but I think what I really mean is that because most of them seemed unhappy, it reminded me of 19th-century exhibitions of native peoples for the pleasure of white Western audiences. And that is neither pleasant nor a good precedent. Now, it wasn't all of them: one young man talked to the kids and I about the gauntlet he was sewing in leather for his bow arm, the mishoon they had hollowed with wood, the fishnet he would be working on again soon, the training of interpreters with the Mashantucket Pequot museum (which he had heard was closing?!). I think he is the reason--plus the games of skill and coordination (ball and cup, catch with fur-stuffed leather bags)--that the kids liked the Wampanoag site better than the Pilgrims.
We finished our visit at the discovery station, where Sis dressed up in pilgrim play clothes and we cooked clams and baked bread while Mama and Bud played Fox and Geese, a marble strategy game. Oh, and we quickly went through the Thanksgiving exhibition and movie, which wasn't very meaningful to them as far as offensive stereotypes of the pre-PC era go. At one point, Bud asked where the 3-D IMAX was, and I laughed and replied that the 3-D pilgrims were down in the village!
Plymouth
For dinner we ate at Wood's Seafood in Plymouth Harbor--it was fabulous! Mama and Bud shared a lobster, meaning she did all the work and he ate it all (he'll still eat almost anything but potatoes). She also had a seafood platter with scallops, shrimp, clams, etc. And I had fried fish (because sometimes I'm not a vegetarian, especially on vacation when I don't just want mediocre iceberg salads). We walked the wharf with ice cream from Ziggy's (Grape Nut! Maine Black Bear! And of course strawberry and chocolate), watching sunset and waiting for first star, which is so much later than the kids usually get to stay up
On Sunday morning, we breakfasted at the All-American Diner, which had great food--crunchy French Texas toast, buttery grilled Morning Glory muffins, corned beef hash Egg Benedicts--and the grumpiest waitress. It was one of the themes of the day.
The Mayflower II was our first sightseeing stop and was just as informative and interesting as Plimoth Plantation. The pilgrim in the hold, who was sewing on a poppet, told us how it was dark (windowless and candleless), airless (and they couldn't go above deck), and so scary with the storms, illness, and prospects of the new world for them. And the ship was small--smaller than the Morgan, the 19th-century whaler at Mystic! I really don't know how they did it, though I suppose once you were on board it was too late to change your mind.
The Rock. It's a rock. I didn't know they'd moved it several times, breaking it in the process. Nutsy.
Newport
So we headed home via Newport, RI, stopping first at Beavertail Lighthouse sitting on an outcropping of rocks on Narragansett Bay. We couldn't climb the current tower but did sit on the ruins of the 18th-century tower, enjoying the breeze and the view. We're hoping the kids get lighthouse fever like we have and made a point of showing them Rose Light, which you can actually stay in--maybe for Mama's 40th birthday!
In Newport, we had lunch at Brick Alley, which had great food but another grumpy waitress. When she brought me the wrong bruschetta appetizer, instead of getting the right one, she tried to bring me the bits of it--raw--to cobble together my own and was shocked when twice I had to tell her that it wasn't going to work, that I wanted the dish I ordered the way it was meant to be (broiled and melted not cold and raw!). And then she took offense! Seriously? I'm guessing they have a policy that she would have to pay for the mistake, which is why she tried so hard to have me take it. It was good, though--bread with sauteed spinach and mushrooms with melted gorgonzola and walnuts and a balsamic reduction. Mama and Bud shared some mussels. Bud had a lobster mac and cheese while Mama had a lobster roll. I had a delicious lemon piccata scrod (yep, fish again). And Sis got bacon mac and cheese.
Fortified, we drove around Newport, admiring the great colonial houses--so many and so well-preserved, but our goal was the Breakers, the Gilded-Age Vanderbilt mansion. We got the audio tours but gave up on them pretty quickly as one headset broke and we realized we were like automatons (I know, I'm a museum educator, but I really don't like audio guides for myself. I'd much rather have the text to go at my own pace, skip stuff, dwell where I want to). So we took them off and I gave the tour! I mean, I've been there before (with Mama and Gommie years ago) and seen enough Gosford Park and Downton Abbey to make sense of a great house. Their favorite part was the dumbwaiter! Bud wants one for our house, four of which could fit in the great hall alone. Sis wants both an internal and external balcony. And they liked the soccer-field sized yard for somersaults and cartwheels.
A few last notes on our wonderful weekend:
- Thank heavens for audio books, without which they'd never put up with such long car rides. We almost had a crisis because one of our stories wasn't engaging and another had a damaged disk, leaving Little House on the Prairie as fallback. We always travel with several.
- There were no Starbucks where we were, which was surprising. Lots of Dunkin Donuts, though.
- Traffic was a big issue, both to get to Plymouth and just in driving around Newport. I mean, Newport was worse than midtown NYC!
- MA coast is very quaint and picturesque and touristy and fun and historical; I'd love to go back there and visit many other places.
- Next time, we should picnic for one meal a day--it takes too much time to eat out two meals.
- Coming home late on Sunday is ok (we usually avoid it) . . . until Monday!
