During our brief time back in the U.S. before heading back across the pond again, we had a lot of territory to cover, many people to see, and many errands to run — we’ve already mentioned getting our passports renewed, getting bank cards replaced, and other such fun stuff. We also hit some medical appointments that we either had not been able to work in overseas, or had delayed in hopes they would be covered by insurance. Dennis, for instance, went to an eye exam, where it was confirmed that yes, he did need cataract surgery in the right eye, but no, they would not be able to give him an appointment in the time he was in New England; and insurance would cover only part of it anyway, so it looked like he’d be taking his eye abroad.

We also took the time to smell — and view — the flowers, erupting in a glory of vernal color. Sometimes in the presence of old friends, such as Carol and her dad Caster.

Carol is active in the haunt community, which is how we met her. She’s also a very gifted artist, who designs some phenomenal jewelry and ornaments. And her dad is… well, just amazing. He’s zoomed past 100 (yes, years) and doesn’t seem to have slowed down a bit. This World War II vet is still quite active and independent, even taking trips by himself. We want to be like him when we grow up.

Then there is another Carol and her husband Jeff. They have a daughter who was our son’s girlfriend for several years; we still keep in touch with them, and consider them part of the family. We met up with them in downtown Providence (it wouldn’t be the only time), where we took a stroll along the river, admiring the artwork and the flora that blossomed in the area.

Fisherman’s Memorial State Park, Rhode Island

After that, we headed down to the coastal town of Narragansett to spend a couple of days camping at Fisherman’s Memorial State Park. Normally, during our 30 years or so of living on wheels, rather than make use of actual campgrounds, we’d indulge in what is sometimes called boondocking — parking for the night wherever was convenient. (You’ve no doubt seen many RV folks doing this at Wal-Mart — which we always considered a last resort, as it were.) Being on a frantic touring schedule at times, we wanted to minimize hassles. But on occasion we would indeed patronize an actual campground, especially when our tanks needed dumping and filling. So here we were at Fishermen’s, named in honor of all the fishermen past, past present and future, in what has been called the Tuna Capital of the World.

At first when we tried to check in, the clerk wanted to charge us the out-of-state rate, which is considerably higher than the resident rate. That’s because we were in their system under our old address in Burbank, California. But in more recent times, we’d shed the rented mailbox that we’d officially lived in for years, and migrated to our son’s house in Providence. And we had the documentation to prove it, by golly.

When we went out to get our vehicle registration, they glanced out the window and noticed our RV. And when you noticed our RV, you inevitably noticed the trailer behind it. And when you noticed the trailer, you noticed the big photos on the side, of us in theatrical costume — such as Kimberly as Red Riding Hood and Dennis as — you guessed it — a gray four-legged predator.

They asked us when we came back in if we were part of a theatrical company. Well, we told them, we had been for a long, long time. But COVID changed our plans for us. And the trailer was just waiting for its orders about where to go next.

Fishermen’s Memorial Park was originally called Nathaniel Greene Park. During World War II, it was a military base that provided crucial defense of the coast against any enemy forces that might happen to stray into these waters. But it cleverly disguised its purpose by masquerading as a farm. There are still remnants of this subterfuge, and the truth beneath it. For example, right there at the entrance is a former gun turret tower impersonating a grain silo.

Once we were set up at our campsite, Kimberly took out her slackline, which she’d really missed during her sojourn abroad, strung it up between two trees, and did her circus bit. She also whipped out her camera and went on some walks to capture the spectrum of springtime bursting at the seams.

The park is a short distance from several attractions, including Block Island, a couple of beaches, and a couple of lighthouses. But in itself, it’s a good place to recharge. For RVs and humans alike.

4/17-24/2023