The final of the series of narratives of our Boston trip: we departed Boston just before noon on Thursday, waving a fond and regretful goodbye to Dana and Richard. We managed to commit only one minor screwup on our exit from Boston, easily remedied by a trip around the block for a second - and successful - kick at the can. That has to be some sort of record. How far we've come from our first effort of nearly a decade ago, involving umpteen circuits of the Common - and a baptism by fire regarding the special Boston trait of 'banging a left' - before we managed to escape, only to get lost again on US 1 in Allston.

We headed north to Maine, back to York beach, to give the dogs one more chance to play in the ocean. It was a much brisker day than Sunday, both in terms of wind and temperature, and the breakers were impressive, but the dogs weren't deterred in the least.

After that, we doubled back south briefly to Portsmouth, New Hampshire, then headed west on ''Antique Alley'', which was honestly a bit of a disappointment, in terms of number and types of antique shops, though surprisingly most of them were open (I'd expected them to be more summer/seasonal). 

We tacked across southern New Hampshire and southern Vermont and found our lodging for the night, the Taconic Hotel in Manchester, Vermont, which was very nice, though quite busy, with some sort of conference/event going on. We didn't really care; we were only there to sleep.

The next morning was drizzly and cooler again. We had a long drive ahead - 10 hours - and only 50 or so kilometres of it was on divided highways. Not the most efficient of routes, but certainly a pretty one, through Adirondack park, past the headwaters of the Hudson and Lake Placid, then across the Saint Lawrence at Ogdensburg-Prescott (scary bridge, very exposed to the elements, with a metal roadbed. It would be a nightmare in snow or rain). Four more hours of driving got us home. We stopped at Lake of Two Rivers in Algonquin; it was 5 degrees Celsius and the lake was still mostly iced over. Spring still had a long way to progress in our neck of the woods, compared to Boston.

And then we were home.