Having left Downingtown a lot later than was originally planned, we kept being behind a place or two for the following three to four days. Because we had failed waking up at the proper hour, the hope was that traffic in New York metropolitan area would be manageable.
Our first New England state was Connecticut, and our first stop was Milford, about an hour past the border. I do not have much to say about this town, except for the first impression it gave us of Connecticut: quiet, clean, and pretty. One biggest distinction of Milford (and, perhaps, Connecticut) from other corners of the country was how polite the people were and how courteously drivers behaved on the road. Otherwise, a neat little place with unpretentious urban architecture and moderate outdoor ornamentation.
New Haven was both geographically and culturally our next destination in Connecticut. A student town, New Haven is the host to one of the world’s most prestigious schools, Yale University. As an Ivy League school, Yale takes some pride in maintaining the historic look and feel of their campus. Many buildings feature arched doorways, multi-layered friezes, raised lintels, massive columns and pilasters, and a great deal of Latin inscriptions.
As we had foreseen, a lot of walls and interiors were in repair—workers pushing hard for the first-day-of-school deadline—hence many houses that could otherwise be showcased here are not. Besides, strolling right past roaring construction equipment and buzzing service vehicles was not exactly very photography-friendly. At the same time, where we did find some peace, the buildings were not exactly very impressive.
Hartford is the capital of Connecticut and one of its largest cities, so we thought we would stop by and make a few shots of the Capitol and random pretty sights in the vicinity. The light drizzle wound down entirely as I was parking the car, and the sky cleared up a bit for us to enjoy a brief saunter. We went down the sidewalk and into the park overlooked by the Capitol building, quietly proceeding towards downtown.
Maybe it was a matter or luck, but that Monday morning Hartford appeared very calm, clean, and underpopulated —no garbage, no barrens, no pedestrians, and no drivers. Symbolism aside, even the choice of monuments was rather peculiar.
Mystic was the last town of our New England trip, and, quite frankly, one that we wanted to skip. From the little research I had done online, culturally Mystic did not stand out against other countless beach resorts of Northeast; and its mere popularity was no trump to us. Besides, we were rushing home to enjoy the tiny bit of rest before the quickly sneaking up workweek. Above all, the weather became wet enough to make us weigh carefully every decision to proceed outside.
We did, however, spent some time in Mystic, grabbing a bite in one of the boardwalk coffee shops. While nibbling on the sandwich, we had the luck of watching the local engineering oddity—a monstrous draw bridge—in action.
Here is the map of our route through Connecticut: