Oh snap, she’s back!
I’m not going to lie, I had a really nice hiatus. Part if it was forced due to lack of internet connection and the other part of it was much needed.
After leaving New York, I decided to see some family in Bristol, Vermont. I didn’t know what to expect except for the fact that my aunt told me it was “very white”. It didn’t thrill me, but it didn’t phase me either considering I’ve been navigating predominantly white spaces most of my life. The other thing I didn’t really think about is what kind of town Bristol was.
For context, I left NYC via Amtrak. There were still things that I didn’t see or do, but once the city drifted further and further from view, there was a sense of relief that washed over me. I loved seeing the city in all its splendor, but seeing trees again made me relax entirely. I mean, look at this view.
Getting to Bristol though… there’s nothing there. Only mountains. Lots and lots of mountains and a lot of water trickling down those mountains. It’s fucking gorgeous. Considering the last post, I left NYC with a skinned knee and a sprained ankle, I was relieved to not have to hobble myself up several stairs to get to the subway, then hobble down the streets. Instead, I could sit and enjoy the view.
Plus, part of me taking this journey was spurred by the death of my dad. I saw my aunt during the funeral and it was very refreshing because those genetics are strong. She’s like a feminine, liberal version of my dad. They had the same mannerisms, the same love of sweets, some of the same habits, the same warmth… it felt good being around that for a bit.
We even went out on my uncle’s boat which I didn’t expect to do at all. I’ve done it in Florida plenty of times, but I didn’t expect to make the journey all the way to Vermont to be on a boat.
I’ll give it to Vermont, it’s a beautiful place. I got in at just the right time to see the leaves change which remains a huge source of wonder when you’re used to perpetual summer. Bristol is small, though, and going from the city to a town where there are nothing but mountains and a handful of people felt like an opportunity to breathe which I desperately needed.
Where New York City was sound and excitement, Bristol was peace and quiet, but… I could never see myself in either of those places. It was a stark dichotomy that I’m glad I experienced, but NYC isn’t my city, and I’m definitely not a country girl.
Once it came time for me to head out, and I could finally walk on my ankle without it bothering me I was SO ready and set my sights for a different city.