Weekend in New England
Live free or die.” This expression epitomizes New Hampshire’s spirit and philosophy. (it’s the state motto in fact). History proves, after all, that New Hampshirites are known for their fiercely independent nature, born of necessity in the early 1600s when European settlers established outposts in this mountainous and verdantly forested region. This natural sanctuary of stunning beauty features the soaring peaks of the White Mountains, the crystal-clear water of Lake Winnipesaukee and the quaint and romantic wooden bridges like the ones witnessed in the Clint Eastwood and Meryl Streep film The Bridges Of Madison County. (In retrospect, my siblings and I had the opportunity to meet Clint Eastwood when our parents were confined at Stanford Hospital a little over a decade ago. It was a touching sight to see the great actor-director enter the lobby of the hospital with his mother in her wheelchair for her weekly medical checkup.)
At the height of the recent typhoon Pepeng, my dear childhood friend Reesa Tesoro-Guerrero phoned me from New Hampshire to check on how my siblings and I were doing. Reesa is currently taking her master’s degree in globalization at the prestigious Dartmouth College, one of the “magic eight” Ivy League schools in the world. She is in her second year of the course and lives on the beautiful sprawling campus that dates back to the 17th century. After the conversation, I couldn’t help but reminisce about our sojourn a few months back.
From nearby Logan Airport in Boston where my plane landed, Reesa and I drove through the pastoral countryside of New Hampshire, crossing the many charming covered bridges. I pleasantly wondered why there were so many of them. I later learned that American bridge builders began covering their wooden spans in the early 19th century to protect the truss work and planking from the harsh weather. Originally the bridges were built by the locals with unique design elements specific to its region. Covered bridges built in farming communities were wide enough and tall enough to accommodate a wagon loaded with hay. Bridges leading into town had the added luxury of pedestrian crossings. Fishermen cast their lines beneath the spans, children used them as platforms from which to dive into the water below, birds nestled among the rafters and social dances were sometimes held beneath their roofs.
We proceeded to the town of Hanover, a traditional village green surrounded by historic brick buildings, the archetypal New England college town. Situated in the upper region of the Connecticut River, it is a pleasant stop for visitors following the Appalachian Trail, which cuts through the center of the nostalgic town.
I was enamored with Dartmouth College, a glorious utopia where nirvana can easily be reached if one so desires. Reesa’s quaint apartment on campus is brightly lit with soulful, blissful music playing incessantly throughout the day and most of the night. We excitedly toured the campus that was founded in 1769. I could hardly believe my eyes as we visited several libraries with old-world character but with the most modern amenities, simply the best synergy of antiquated style and modern flare that is convenient for all. It was like walking onto the set of Harry Potter’s Hogwarts University.
Darmouth College is the northernmost of the country’s Ivy League schools. Today, some 4,500 students participate in programs that include one of the oldest medical schools in America, the Thayer College of Civil Engineering (1867) and the Amos Tuck School of Business Administration (1900). The school’s famous graduates include Daniel Webster (1782-1852) and former vice president Nelson Rockefeller (1908-79)
The college has a number of noteworthy sights such as the Baker/Berry Memorial Library decorated by a series of thought-provoking murals tracing the history of the Americas painted by Mexican artist Jose Clemente Orozco (1883-1949) in the early 1930s. The Hood Museum of Art has a diverse collection that includes Native American and African Art, early American and European paintings and works by such noted modern artists such as Pablo Picasso (1881-1973).
I had a wonderful opportunity to join some creative writing classes on campus and was truly blessed to learn in an inspiring institution of academic excellence.
I am very proud of my dear friend Reesa, who is actually like a little sister to me. We grew up in the same village, went to the same college, Assumption Convent, and often had pajama parties in her room as her loving parents Tita Alice and Tito Mike prepared the most sumptuous home-cooked meals for us.
The sun was beginning to rise as I went jogging on the oval track and field ring; the weather perfectly cool and invigorating. It was exhilarating to be in a place of history, culture and great learning. Truly, this is the kind of atmosphere that inspires me and makes me feel connected to God, the universe and myself.
From Dartmouth, we hied off to the nearby town of Queechee to witness the eclectic hot-air balloon fest. It was a festive occasion as local townsfolk and visitors converged for this spectacular display of gigantic helium-propelled balloons, fireworks, local arts and crafts and stalls selling delicious local crafts and delicacies ranging from furniture to soaps and gourmet chocolate. The pyrotechnics guided by audio-streamed music synchronized with the movements of the colorful balloons was a sight to behold.
Next morning, we drove to the maple syrup factory in Vermont. One cannot visit this Green Mountain state founded by explorer Sameul de Champlain in 1609 without a trip to this sweet stop.
An enclave of unspoiled wilderness, Vermont is a haven of lush landscape, fjord-like lakes and challenging mountain trails with thick forests blanketing the rolling hills and the luscious valleys and many small towns busy with traditional pursuits like dairy farming and maple syrup production. It is the only New England state without an ocean shoreline, but most of its western border is the historic and lovely Lake Champlain. Like Vermont, New Hampshire, the Granite State, has dramatic mountains, including the imposing Mount Washington, skiing and snow sports, as well as lakes, beaches, and lighthouses. Lodging businesses offer options for every taste from lavish resorts to family motels, inns, and intimate bed-and-breakfast establishments.
One major highlight of Vermont is a trip to the most famous ice cream creators on the planet, Ben and Jerry. Ben and Jerry’s Ice Cream comes in those colorful, hip and wacky themed cartons. Such bold and eclectic cartons are so colorful that they invite reading. Not to mention the crazy names of the ice cream flavors that beg for even more attention.
Just imagine concoctions like “Imagine Whirled Peace” caramel and sweet cream ice cream swirled with fudge pieces and toffee cookie chunks, “Karamel Sutra,” a core of soft caramel encircled by chocolate and caramel cream and fudge chips, or “Everything But The...” with vanilla Heath bar crunch, white chocolate chunks with peanut butter cups and chocolate-covered almonds and much, much more!
Although Ben Cohen and Jerry Greenfield hail from Long Island, New York, they have done more than any other flatlanders to put Vermont’s dairy industry on the map. In 1977, these childhood friends paid $5 for a correspondence course on making ice cream and parlayed their knowledge into a hugely successful franchise. They renovated an old gas station in Burlington for their first store and, most importantly, sold stock to Vermonters in 1984 to pay for their factory. They use only the richest cream and milk from local cows to produce their ice cream and frozen yogurt.
Back in Reesa’s cozy home in Dartmouth campus, we invited her classmates and had an all-girls pajama party just like we used to do. It was a warm and happy feeling being with my dear childhood friend Reesa as we recalled many delightful moments of our ever-so-youthful and charmed lives. We indulged in our favorite Ben & Jerry ice cream flavors — Cherry Garcia, Chunky Monkey and Brownie Nut Fudge Sundae — as we relived our motto: “I scream for ice cream.”
That night, as we incessantly scooped the creamy concoctions, we cheered, “This is the new New Hampshire where you can ‘live free (of ice cream) or die of delight.’”
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New Hampshire is just a two-hour drive from Logan Airport or JFK Airport in New York. Thai Airways flies from Bangkok to Los Angeles daily, take United Airlines to Boston or New York. For more information, call 812-4744.
E-mail the author at miladay.star@gmail.com.
