The Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel was once one of the 7 engineering wonders of the world, opened in 1964 it has since been superseded with more modern wonders but it is still awe inspiring none the less. Spanning 24 miles across the bay its $12 toll was worth every penny, it saves you about a 95 km journey around the bay.
As per the map above you start on a low trestle bridge and begin your crossing, you then come to a five acre ‘anchor island’ (the circles on the map) of which there are four. You then go under the bay into a tunnel (so shipping can pass over the top), you pop up onto another bridge and then you repeat the process.
The tunnel area is pretty small and claustrophobic, one lane up one lane back, the trucks have minimal clearance both on the side and roof of the tunnel where at times it can get very congested.
Rosie and The Operator stopped on the first anchor island, they had loos, a tea room and even a gift shop, a wee wharf stuck out the side and was full of fisherman.
Rosie was taking photos of the shipping when a local came over to admire The Operators car……he was a tow truck driver, paid to wait for breakdowns in the tunnel or on the bridge so they could be immediately cleared and not hold the traffic up. He said you would be surprised how many breakdowns he attends a week…in the meantime he just waits for a call….great on a lovely day….. He also drove peoples cars through the tunnels who were too afraid to do it themselves….he said you would be surprised how many cars he drives through as well….a cagey guy, certainly not giving away any confidential facts and figures and very interested in coming to live in New Zealand……
Not the best photo in the world but you can see the low hurricane resistant bridge that curves to an island, you can see the square tunnel entrance on top of the island then you can see the second island in the distance where you pop up and carry on your journey by bridge again, quite amazing.
Once across the bridge we left Virginia behind and entered Delaware, the nations second smallest state and a tax free shopping haven. Signs along the highway pointed us to tax free cigarettes and booze as far as the eye can see. Other than that the highway rolled by farmsteads and chicken farms offering little for the traveller to stop for.
We drove into Lewes about mid day, under blue skies and a nice refreshing breeze from the sea dispelling the humidity that had hounded us since DC. Our Garmin GPS took us right to the door of The Rodney – a boutique hotel (just means smaller than what the average American would expect in a room) in the middle of the town.
Parking was behind the hotel but we stopped buy the door you can see above to unload our cases. Ok it was a yellow line, no parking, we understand that, technically The Operator was not parking, he was unloading….well, that was what we told the parking nazi that came swooping down on us within two seconds….he had already started to write the ticket, as he explained so he had to issue it. The Operator even argued how could you call it parking when the engine wasn’t even turned off….The Operator was getting puffed up…Rosie told him to move the car and go, The Operator jumps in, drives off and leaves me with the officious public official. Rosie smiles, ‘I am so sorry sir, we are tourists who have just arrived on this beautiful day in your gorgeous town and didnt appreciate the gravity of idling here to unload our heavy bags…….Rosie grovelled and apologised….Meterman conceded, YUS!!!! Because we were tourists and all, he would make an exception. Thank you sir have a good day…..he only left because his beady eyes had picked up another offender 20 metres away. Upon check in, the friendly lass warned us to be aware of parking wardens, they were very strict and enforced with an iron rod in the town…..
The Dutch originally settled here in 1631, it was a whaling settlement called Zwaanendael (valley of the swans), they lived there long enough to fall out with and be slaughtered by the local Indians. The English moved in and renamed the town Lewes (pronounced LOO-iss). Today its a beautiful seaside gem with a mix of English and Dutch architecture.
The main street is just picture perfect….abit too picture perfect, beautiful manicured gardens, not a scrap of litter or ‘godforbid’ chewing gum anywhere, hanging baskets without a dead bloom in them and wonderfully chirpy friendly shopkeepers specialing there end of summer goods on tables on the footpath. There were souvenir shops, clothes shops, jewellery shops, galleries and giftshops on the main street, cafes, restaurants and ice cream shops were just down the side alleys and everyday shops, like the post office, were tucked a couple of streets over.
It was a lovely day for a wander through the main street, a couple of streets over you crossed the bridge into the marina where plenty of hotels, bars and restaurants were clustered together. A couple of blocks more you were down among the beach houses and on the sand of the seaside.
The beach houses were beautiful, they stretched for miles bordering a grassy tussocky strip of sand that lead to the beach. Tracks like this criss crossed the shrubs giving access from the road to the foreshore, tucked into the grasses were beach chairs and kayaks, waiting for their owners to clam them on a ‘beachday’. Dig the birdhouse.
Looking up the coast the bleached white sand stretched on for miles, Rosie has never seen sand so white. The day was hot and the beach was littered with small groups of sun worshippers. Then it got a little creepy…….Rosie turned to face the sea and whispered to The Operator, ‘is this for real’.
It was like being in the Twilight Zone….the sun was over bright, the sand was too white, the sea and sky was a combination of blue that made your mind hurt and the silence, the complete and utter silence was like being in a vacuum. The sea had no waves and made no sound….of all the people on this beach, no one was talking, there was deathly silence. Rosies camera beeped to indicate her picture was in focus, it was so loud on that beach the dude in the red speedos lifted his head to see what the noise was……bizarre. Rosie was caught on the periphery like a pervert, overdressed totally, compared to the twilight zone beach dwellers holding a camera in the tussock. Rosie and The Operator backed away…..weird.
The whole beach had that unearthly quality about it. Look again and I suppose there are no kids being mid week…..Rosie was really expecting to see a sign, ‘ No talking on the beach!’
It was truly a beautiful day for cruising around this cute town, a day so lovely you just had to have the top down, and why not stop and paint the mangroves.
Rosie and The Operator celebrated the beautiful weather sitting on the dockside with a bottle of beer, a glorious afternoon it was. Tomorrow we have a ferry to catch and a trip up the Jersey Shore.
Rosie is a Middle Aged Kiwi who is about to embark on a twelve month adventure of a lifetime, travelling The World with her trusty, loyal sidekick The Operator. In search of adventure, culture, new taste experiences and world wide 'happy hours', Rosie's journals chronicle their travels and experiences.
Rosie had a lightbulb moment. Within that flash of clarity came the realisation that time was spinning out of control and passing her by. So, armed with the confidence, means, ability and a new found passion for life, Rosie and her trusty, loyal sidekick The Operator have devised THE PLAN.
ROSIE – Continually travels The World for the next 12 months.
THE OPERATOR – Works his 28 day roster and meets Rosie somewhere in The World to explore the area together for his 28 days off. Repeat x6.
ROSIE – Will then stay in one spot of the country they have been exploring for 28 days of local immersion whilst The Operator returns to work.
THE OPERATOR – Certainly has the shorter end of the stick xxx
Join me as I journal my middle aged musings on our day to day travels, culture, food and the quest for the ultimate world wide happy hour.
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The tunnel area is pretty small and claustrophobic, one lane up one lane back, the trucks have minimal clearance both on the side and roof of the tunnel where at times it can get very congested.
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Parking was behind the hotel but we stopped buy the door you can see above to unload our cases. Ok it was a yellow line, no parking, we understand that, technically The Operator was not parking, he was unloading….well, that was what we told the parking nazi that came swooping down on us within two seconds….he had already started to write the ticket, as he explained so he had to issue it. The Operator even argued how could you call it parking when the engine wasn’t even turned off….The Operator was getting puffed up…Rosie told him to move the car and go, The Operator jumps in, drives off and leaves me with the officious public official. Rosie smiles, ‘I am so sorry sir, we are tourists who have just arrived on this beautiful day in your gorgeous town and didnt appreciate the gravity of idling here to unload our heavy bags…….Rosie grovelled and apologised….Meterman conceded, YUS!!!! Because we were tourists and all, he would make an exception. Thank you sir have a good day…..he only left because his beady eyes had picked up another offender 20 metres away. Upon check in, the friendly lass warned us to be aware of parking wardens, they were very strict and enforced with an iron rod in the town…...jpg)
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It was like being in the Twilight Zone….the sun was over bright, the sand was too white, the sea and sky was a combination of blue that made your mind hurt and the silence, the complete and utter silence was like being in a vacuum. The sea had no waves and made no sound….of all the people on this beach, no one was talking, there was deathly silence. Rosies camera beeped to indicate her picture was in focus, it was so loud on that beach the dude in the red speedos lifted his head to see what the noise was……bizarre. Rosie was caught on the periphery like a pervert, overdressed totally, compared to the twilight zone beach dwellers holding a camera in the tussock. Rosie and The Operator backed away…..weird.
It was truly a beautiful day for cruising around this cute town, a day so lovely you just had to have the top down, and why not stop and paint the mangroves.
