Thank God it's Friday
Tuesday Cape Cod. Our hotel has a sign proclaiming it to be one of the historic inns of America, with the date 1694 prominent. Closer reading reveals that the original building burnt down in 1971 and that this one dates from 1973. We drive to Hyannis. Everything is closed and we are reduced to eating at the British Beer Company. I don't expect it to be anything like a British pub. Unfortunately, it is.
Wednesday Sturbridge Village comprises old buildings that have been rescued from all over New England. There are working flour, carding and sawmills, but our footsteps are dogged by a machinery bore who insists on questioning the staff about "bifurcating reciprocal flanges". Our restaurant in the evening advertises "horse-drawn weddings". We debate whether the horse uses pencil or charcoal.
Thursday My heart sinks when I discover that we are sharing the hotel with a British school ski party, but apart from the odd herd of bison impression from the floor above, and the fact that they pinch all the bacon from the breakfast buffet, they are pretty well-behaved. We walk part of the Appalachian Trail, where we see lots of evidence of beaver dam building and piles of moose droppings, but not a glimpse of either creature.
Friday We try to take the old cog railway to the summit of Mount Washington, but it's closed so we walk up to the Arethusa Falls. We only see five people on the ascent and descent, but we find some large tracks in the snow that could be black bear. They are worryingly fresh, but the only creatures that we do see are chipmunks. Later in the day we splurge at a factory outlet shopping village and have to buy another suitcase so we can bring our purchases back.
David Meaden is an adviser in an outer London borough. If you have a diary to share (no more than 450 words), write to TES Friday or email firstname.lastname@example.org. We pay for every article we publish