After a pleasant weekend between Rhode Island and Massachusetts, of which I will write later, yesterday morning I set off from East Greenwich westwards to Farmington. I will spend the week there. It is somehow like going back home. Certainly it is for the car, as I am taking it where I bought it. This 100 miles or so to the Lewis Walpole Library are also my last drive in the US. Once there I will sell the car tomorrow or on Wednesday. As these thoughts start to gather in my head I get a little emotional while driving. This car has been a good companion of adventure in the last 4 months, and I am sad I have to leave it behind. The weather continue to be gray and showery, trees and plants are display their best green. I stop for the last gas and I also take a last coffee refill, just for the fun of it. It is funny to drive again in these roads where I drove first at the beginning of February. The I-95 I-84, the 372, and finally the 10 that took me from New Haven to Farmington. When I arrive to the library the odometer marks 133869, it was 130043 10 days ago when I left LA, the trip coast to coast West to East was in the end 3826 miles. When I left Farmington in late February it marked 121840. In the last 4 months I have done more than 12000 miles, more than 19000 km, what I have been usually doing in three years back in Italy.
The day passes between greetings, tales from my past months and some work in the reading room, reading some early 19th century accounts of English Clubs life.
At 5 pm I take everything off the car and clean it, then I take it to the car wash, I want to make it look beautiful for the perspective buyer who is coming to see it at 6 30.
As I am driving back home on route 6 I stop at a yellow traffic light. A GMC small SUV hit me from the back and pushes me on the other side of the intersection. I cannot render the thousand thoughts that hit me on those seconds, insurance, no sale, mechanic, my flight, my money, my buyer, time, time.
I get off and look at the car, the rear bumper the lights on the passenger side needs replacing the trunk and some of the fairing needs bodywork. Nothing major but certainly significant, and it will go on the record of the car, the resale price will just drop and drop. What will I do?
The other guy stops and calls the police, it is a nice guy, from down the road. He is sorry. A first car of the local municipal police arrives, but the policewoman is at the end of her shift and a sergeant comes 10 minutes later. A report is filed. I explain my situation, I leave the country in a week or so, they tell me to leave the registration certificate, my title of ownership already signed for the sale to a person I trust. What a mess.
In the evening I call both my insurance and the other guy insurance. They will contact me for the appraisal. maybe today. I walked to the local plaza, back in february, with ice on the sidewalk this had seemed to me quite a distance, now it does not take me more than 5 minutes to get there. The liquor shop is not there anymore, a casualty of the crisis? difficult to believe. I was ready to indulge in a bottle to forget the day, but I will have to find other means to sedate my soul, what a stroke of luck, they give star trek the next generation on the sci-fi channel....
The day passes between greetings, tales from my past months and some work in the reading room, reading some early 19th century accounts of English Clubs life.
At 5 pm I take everything off the car and clean it, then I take it to the car wash, I want to make it look beautiful for the perspective buyer who is coming to see it at 6 30.
As I am driving back home on route 6 I stop at a yellow traffic light. A GMC small SUV hit me from the back and pushes me on the other side of the intersection. I cannot render the thousand thoughts that hit me on those seconds, insurance, no sale, mechanic, my flight, my money, my buyer, time, time.
I get off and look at the car, the rear bumper the lights on the passenger side needs replacing the trunk and some of the fairing needs bodywork. Nothing major but certainly significant, and it will go on the record of the car, the resale price will just drop and drop. What will I do?
The other guy stops and calls the police, it is a nice guy, from down the road. He is sorry. A first car of the local municipal police arrives, but the policewoman is at the end of her shift and a sergeant comes 10 minutes later. A report is filed. I explain my situation, I leave the country in a week or so, they tell me to leave the registration certificate, my title of ownership already signed for the sale to a person I trust. What a mess.
In the evening I call both my insurance and the other guy insurance. They will contact me for the appraisal. maybe today. I walked to the local plaza, back in february, with ice on the sidewalk this had seemed to me quite a distance, now it does not take me more than 5 minutes to get there. The liquor shop is not there anymore, a casualty of the crisis? difficult to believe. I was ready to indulge in a bottle to forget the day, but I will have to find other means to sedate my soul, what a stroke of luck, they give star trek the next generation on the sci-fi channel....
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