A combination of co-pilot rally driver and rally driving like the rental car was stolen had us keeping up with the rest of them in the traffic flow.  It was when we entered the little towns with narrow one ways that had the team work go pair shaped!  You can truely see the whites of peoples eyes in on-coming traffic sharing the same bit of roading from opposite directions, ahem!  We got through the day un-scratched and still in love!

What the hell do they mean by ‘Gilded Age?’  This term is used for illustrious mansions a top the cliff walk. They were massive and pompous and just the gate lighting itself on one property was longer than Claire in height.  The in-shore wind breeze blew the grey’s from the scalp, sometimes wettened from the salty sea spray as waves crashed over the rocks shouldering the walkway.







Newport itself has America’s Cup history.   Not much memorabilia about good ole New Zealand’s moment in time when we lifted it off the Yanks neither!  In fact, none at all.  The shipyard had yachts fully exposed on gigantic hoists with bodies of people doing maintenance.  Some of the masts were thirty times longer than the gate lighting from our ealier walk, the masts just went up, up, up.





As did the Claibourne Pell Newport Bridge.  At 3,428 metres in length and 120 metres high, it’s older than Claire having opened 28 June 1969.

They certainly build things big here!


We went off route to try to spy on the US Submarine Naval base prior to our end destination.  The museum would have made for an interesting visit had we taken the correct turn – some misunderstanding between instruction and listening.  However, the submarine we could see from an observation point parked up beside a dock was again big.  Not sure living in confined spaces under the surface is us.


From Rhode Island to Connecticut.  It was fast, fanciful and fun.

New Jersey … here we come!