.... perhaps they're off to a turkey shoot! At some point, I know not where, I left that part of the USA known as Massachusetts. And, at some point, I know not when, I passed in to Rhode Island, which it is not!
The first sign that I'd entered the State of Rhode Island was this one:
Stayed with John, a recent resident of Providence, in an area that was once controlled by the Mafia!
We went to a great joint for some beer, food and some chat.
Later, I awoke to the sound of a jack hammer being operated outside the property, since it was still dark I assumed it must be 6.30 or so in the morning. I know that Americans start work early, and many appear to have absolutely no consideration of others when it comes to noise, but this is ridiculous thought I. Then I checked to see the time and was shocked and suprised to discover that it was about 12.40am! Madness, perhaps it was the mob returning to collect some buried treasure! (And no I did not dream it because John actually went out to see why the pavement was being dug up. But it appears that the noise was too loud for meaningful communication, and the diggers were unwilling to stop for a chat!). Fortunately the digging eventually stopped and sleep shortly overcame me.