What better way to enjoy summer in North America than taking a road trip. We do it the last long weekend in July, to Manhattan, New York. We love its atmosphere, bustle, shows, food, and shopping. This year I had something else on my mind. When I mentioned it to my husband he understood.

Here’s a clue. What makes me happiest? Ah, yes…books, reading and writing. That’s all I’ll divulge at this point.

We left home early Friday – it was still dark at 5am. We loaded the car, I checked our papers for we would be crossing the border, made sure the requisite number of CDs were aboard, and we were off. Here’s something I want to share. There is one particular CD we never fail to play when starting on a road trip. Several years ago we had heard a group from Australia sing gurbani kirtan at Toronto’s Harbourfront. We bought their CD and it has accompanied us every time. In the bag of CDs also resided Bill Cosby’s comedy, Robindrasangeet, old filmi songs and some Bollywood dance music, and Ganesh Aarti. The last because Ganpati is next month and we wanted to get into that mood which personifies Mumbai at that time – one rocking, spectacular, party.

We crossed into the US at Gananoque. I love the sound of it. It is an aboriginal name and is situated on one of the most breathtaking stretches along the St. Lawrence River. From the bridge we feasted our eyes on the islands, almost 1,800 in all, nestling by the water that straddles the border of US and Canada.  I was the navigator and it was my job to direct my husband. This is a position of grave responsibility. We hadn’t made this trip in two years, lot of the landscape had changed and I was holding a map two years old. Did we think to get a GPS? No. That would be too easy. We needed to do it the hard way, get lost a few times, argue about whose fault it was, make a few detours, speak with the locals, stop to eat and rest, making for one nice, long, restful drive.

The Catskill Mountains became our companion staying with us through the greater part of the drive, with its dense forests, high peaks, ski slopes, numerous creeks, rivers, farms with acres of corn, horses, cattle, and barns. Absolutely gorgeous.

Along the way I started to make a list of the names of places we passed through, beautiful and so “foreign” sounding  – Wanaksink lake, Wolf lake (wolves came here to drink, perhaps?), Town of Mamakating, Yankee Lake (?), Town of Parish, Village of Parish (again, my curious mind asks why?), Onondaga Nation Territory (so evocative), Mexico (a town in the US), Tinker Tavern Rd., Salmon River (must have been teeming with salmon in those days to have earned the name), Lake Coddington Brook, Loch Sheldrake (Scottish?), White Lake (was the first white man sighted in this territory?), Colbourne (very British), Ferndale Swan Lake, Monticello (!), Wurtsboro (Okay, this name is so unusual I had to look it up as to its origins. You can too. It’s fascinating. All I will say is this area was inhabited by one of the oldest group of aboriginals to populate North America. Wow).

In Manhattan we checked into our hotel which was right on Times Square, but since our room would not be available until 3pm we left our luggage and took off. Our car was loaded up a high-rise garage not to be seen again, until checking out.

Remember I had mentioned wanting to do something different this time?

But let me go back a bit. The day before we left I was checking FB and something from Vintage Books and Anchor Books showed up. I stopped to read. Interestingly a friend had also made a comment about vintage book stores, The Strand Bookstore, being one of them. And there’s one in Manhattan. A quick check and I discovered they were not far from our hotel, a mere 34 blocks on 828 Broadway at 12^th St. a 40 minute walk. I was drenched in sweat by the time we reached it, was ready to escape into its cool interior. But I didn’t. Lined along the sidewalk in front of the store were hundreds of books. I had to stop, heat forgotten, and browse. Two hours later and arms full of hardcovers, I managed to stagger indoors, to even more books. My husband kindly offered to stand in line, pay for the books, thus giving me more time to browse.

Next day we visited the Rockefeller Centre housing the NBC studios, sat in Central Park, walked past Hatchett Publishing (Will I ever get up enough courage to knock on its seemingly unattainable grey door?), and returned to Strand Bookstore.

This time I headed to the 3^rd floor where all first publications are housed. I discovered, quite by chance, that they had just acquired the first publication of Arthur Conan Doyle’s Sherlock Holmes, priced at US$1,750.00. I saw touched and read this book. It has illustrations created by Doyle himself. I did not know he was also an artist. I picked it up, was about to walk to the cashier, when good sense prevailed. I put it down. Maybe next time, I promised myself.

We covered approximately 1,100 miles on this road trip. I am full of energy and raring to go again. Maybe next summer.

Keep Well…..Keep Smiling

Purabi Das

Purabi Das is an emerging writer and poet living in Pickering who finds inspiration for her stories and poems from life in general. To find out more visit Purabi on www.facebook.com/purabisinhadas