Dinner at the Wharf – June 19, part two

Although there were several more mansions to see, we had reached the end of the tour day.  We had wanted to do the Newport Cliff Walk

 along (you guessed it!) the cliff,

but it was again getting a bit overcast and cool.  We browsed the gift shop, where we bought a few post cards and I got a coffee table book on the Mansions of Newport.  Cordelia guided us off the island and to our motel, over a bridge, around in circles of a roundabout, and through a few intersections to our very convenient place for the night.  Of course it was next to a Walmart!  Good opportunity to stock up on what supplies we were short on.

I am not going to name the motel, as it was the worst night of our entire trip!  It was probably the second time in my life I felt uncomfortable in a location.  The room was clean, if not sparse, but offered almost no amenities – including security!  Not even free coffee in the non-existent lounge area. We got sort of settled and drove back across the bridge into downtown Newport and found a parking space near the wharf.  After a short walk around the cobbled streets we chose a restaurant right on the water among the yachts and fishing boats.  We could smell the sea air and feel the gentle breeze off the ocean.

Of course we had fish and chips.  We loved seeing the boats, some of which were bigger than twice my house!  They were just bobbing on the docks, the strings of globe lights reflecting against the other boats and the water.  We watched a few tour boats come and go, looking dwarfed against the yachts.

We were almost too full to move, but we walked back through the quaint little tourist shops along the docks.  That’s when Kath bought the Breakers mystery book.  There were so many unique and tempting things to see and explore!  We decided to search out the Castle Hill light house that was supposed to be only 3.5 miles from downtown.  Cordelia led us down the side streets, but we seemed to always miss the road.  There were no signs to point the way.  We ended up at the top of a private road to an exclusive dining club, where the gateman assured us that we were on the right road and gave us almost-good directions.  We found the wooden gate house (which I assumed would be the size of a small shed and was actually no larger than an outhouse!), parked in the grass as instructed, and found the mulched path through the very close woods.

It was by now growing dusk, and there were no other people around and no path markers.  But as I had never seen a lighthouse in person, we were up for the adventure. When we reached the top of the slight rise, we saw the top of the faded white stones and the black roof.  It looked like it was only a few feet tall and we laughed.  But once we cleared the woods we realized that we were at the top of a bluff, that we were only seeing the very top section of the lighthouse.  The mournful moan of the lighthouse warning echoed across the water; gulls swooped and flew overhead.  The waves splashed and crashed against the black, bleak rocks below us, almost straight down.

To give it credit, there were a set of wooden stairs in three sections that went to the bottom of the lighthouse to the shore.  We walked over close to the steps, and one look down told me I was not going to attempt that.  Kath was game, though, and reached for the wooden railing – which promptly shook, swayed and wiggled under her hand.  She looked at me and grinned and went down the first flight of stairs.  I moved back a little further and watched but still refused to go down.

When she reached the next level she turned around.  “I’m not going down any further.  Even I can’t make myself feel comfortable!”  We took a few pictures, safely back from the edge.  Darkness was slowly creeping in around us, and we hurried back down the path to the car.  It was dark by the time we reached the bridge and were back across the roundabout and at the motel. (looks deceptively calm, doesn’t it????)

Which was the second scary episode of the day.  I managed to fill the ice bucket then double-lock the doors and check the windows.  We were hoping for a quiet night, but heard untold numbers of thumps and knocks and things that go bump in the night.  There were even people yelling and stomping up and down the hallway.

We woke before the alarm to absolute buckets of pouring rain. We were showered, dressed and had the car packed by 7am.  We were out of there!  We ate breakfast at a Dunkin’ Donut across the street, and began to feel normal again.  The hotel notwithstanding, Newport was a fairytale place and I was drawn to the magic and grandeur of the mansions and the town.  It was definitely on my list of places to return to, sooner rather than later.   So the evening and the morning were the second day.  And the sisters felt that it was – all in all – very good…