Bryn Mawr College
Greetings from the Eastern Standard Timezone. From Chicago, I flew to Philadelphia a couple of days ago and now I’m posting from upstate New York.
After an overnight stay at the Philly airport LaQuinta, I covered a lot of territory yesterday. I started the day by picking up my companion for the next ten days, a rental car with a trunk large enough to store all of my belongings, which is where most of it will stay for the duration my East Coast roadtrip. Now, as they say in the airline commercial, I am free to move about the country.
The car I received from the rental agency at the Philadelphia airport is a Hyundai Sonata with Ontario license plates. When my friend Daron and I traveled to the Scottish Hebrides a few years ago, she named our rental car Heather. Following her lead, I’m calling my ride Monty (for a number of reasons, none of them very clever – any guesses?). I suspect he will be making appearances in some of the photos over the next ten days, and with any luck, he will develop his own weird little cult following.
On our first day together, Monty and I started the morning with a visit to Bryn Mawr College, where Cornelia and Emily met and became friends. Emily graduated from Bryn Mawr, but Cornelia attended only for a couple of years before studying at the Sorbonne in Paris. Thankfully, her short time at Bryn Mawr was enough to cement their friendship and inspire the girls to travel together.
I was taking a stroll through the oldest parts of the campus, enjoying the beautiful architecture and foliage, when it occurred to me that this was the first time I knew for certain that I was walking in the girls’ footsteps. How many times had Emily and Cornelia walked these paths, and gone in and out of these buildings? It was an unexpected delight to feel connected to them in that moment.
Too soon, I had to get in the car and hit the road, which meant that there was no time for a stop in the campus bookstore, but I left in good conscience, knowing I will be dropping in there on my way back through Philly.
On my way out of town, I had the good fortune to be passing through the Main Line area. Cornelia mentions this place in Hearts when she is talking about Miss Mary: “Her other name was Mrs. Charles B. Dudley and she hailed from the Main Line (Philadelphia, of course).” The name references the railroad, which ran through a number of towns (now suburbs) into what is now downtown Philadelphia, and the Main Line would have been the Beverly Hills of Philly in Cornelia’s day. From the looks of the heavenly, well-preserved homes (mansions) I saw in just a few minutes of driving, the Main Line has retained its stately beauty.
Then it was on to Allentown, Pennsylvania for an all-too-quick visit with my friend Craig Miller. He and his partner William were my neighbors briefly in Springfield, and they are still very much missed by all the gang on Walnut St. Craig gave me a tour of their sublime 1908 rowhouse, which faces a pretty Victorian park, before we headed downtown for a bite at Hamilton. After lunch, we walked through his neighborhood, looking at the other wonderful old houses before I had to get on the road. Happily, I will get to see him again in New York, along with William, right before I leave for Europe.
Another unexpected pleasure along the way is how much I am enjoying the drive. This is the first time I’ve ever really explored the area, so each mile, each bend in the road, is fresh and new. And it’s been some beautiful driving – divided highways lined with trees, from Philadelphia all the way to Fishkill, New York, which is where I stopped for the night. It is far more picturesque than its name might lead one to believe.
Next stop: Smith College in Northampton, Massachusetts