I was the late arrival and the one to leave early. I missed the Friday festivities and some of Saturday as well. First thing that happened was, I got to the airport late and was standing in the wrong queue - almost ended up on a flight to Tokyo, but that an airport worker must have noticed I kind of *stood out* from everyone else, as I was the only non-Japanese person in the queue (I didn't even notice), and asked me if I was in the group going back to Tokyo. Well, much as I would love to visit Tokyo, it would have to wait until later. Stood next in another queue, a very long one, thinking, if this thing doesn't hurry up, I'm going to miss my plane. Panic attack starts to set in. A woman from the airport comes along asking if anyone in the lineup is for the 8:45 flight to wherever. I pipe up saying, I'm on the 8:25 to Boston. She shrieks, "What?" and pulls me out of the line, gets on her cell phone calling here and there and walks (more like runs) me through the crowd, where I have to check the guitar, then race after her (carrying all my stuff), rushes me through Customs where the US customs guy asks me a lot of strange questions, such as, "Are you going to the US for business or personal reasons?" and I say, "Personal, I'm going to visit friends down near Boston." He sees in my hand a binder I had made up of maps and my itinerary and says, "That looks like business." and he takes it and starts looking through it and asking me, "What is this?" and I say, "These are the maps and information I printed out so I'd know how to get here and there." He flips to the music I had at the back and asks me what that's all about and I tell him, "It's a music festival of sorts. Everyone gets together and plays and sings and performs". He seems to think this is pretty strange, so he asks me, "Are you getting paid for this?" and I answer very plainly, "No," when what I really want to say is, "Buddy, if you heard me sing and play, you certainly wouldn't be asking me that one!" But you can't argue or joke with customs and immigration types and besides, panic mode was setting in and I was trying just to breathe normally. He finally lets me through, and then I have to dash down the ramp, up into the plane and to my seat. Despite all this, there are other people who calmly walk onto the plane AFTER me. However, I guess the thing I missed is, you're supposed to be at the airport TWO hours early, not one, and these people had probably checked in, then gone off for a drink or breakfast or something. About two minutes after I get my gear stowed under the seat (I never use the overhead things if I can help it), the pilot comes on and announces that he has some bad news for us and maybe the day isn't starting off so well - we have mechanical problems that create a "No-go" situation, therefore we have to get OFF the plane and they're going to find us another one. a) why they couldn't have figured this out sooner, is beyond me (OK, maybe they were trying to fix it all along, but discovered it was going to take longer than first anticipated) and b) All this running was for naught (although I DO appreciate the Air Canada rep's valiant work to get me on the plane and wish I had gotten her name, so I could thank her and let her boss know). So, we're off the plane, sitting around in the airport lounge. About half-an-hour later comes an announcement saying there was a flight coming in soon from Philadelphia, which they would groom and cater and put us on. The flight from Philly is a bit late and the grooming and so on takes a bit longer than anticipated, I suppose, so the flight I should have gotten on leaves at 10:00 a.m. rather than 8:25, but the flight itself is smooth and great, and we land at Logan at 11:30 or so. All through the flight, lines from Joni and other songs, travel-related, pop into my head, among them: (Shouldn't have got on) This flight tonight (this morning). I'm travelling in some vehicle... I took a plane to a taxi, then a taxi to a plane... Up there's a heaven, down there's a town... Miles from my home (Cowboy Junkies, not Joni) When I land, my guitar is one of the first things off the baggage carousel (she takes her baggage off the carousel), and I think, "This is a good sign," then I ask the info guy how I get to the rental car places. There are these shuttle buses that each of the rental car places have that come in regularly and you just hop on the one of your choice (whichever company you've booked with), and they drive you to a place a ways off from the airport. (She takes a taxi (shuttle) to the town (rent-a-car place). So I collect my car and head off for Danvers, home of the Days Inn. I find Danvers easily and as I'm driving, I spot every single friggin' hotel/motel that Ashara had included in her list, but the Days Inn? Just where the heck is that??? I think I ended up in Salem, so I stopped at a convenience store where I asked the guy at the cash if he knew how to get to the Days Inn on Endicott Street. There was a woman with a little kid just coming up to the cash, and she told me how to get there. All I had to do was go straight along here, turn right, drive a mile or so, turn left, then go straight until I came to Petco, then take a sharp left there, followed by a right and voila. (Let me tell you here that the people of Boston and New England that I met are the friendliest, most helpful people I think I've ever met, unless I'm just plain lucky or maybe looked so confused that they took pity on me. And remember now about Petco because it comes up later in the story.) I followed her EXCELLENT directions and landed at my hotel. By this time, it was probably around 1:30 or so. I checked into the motel, got my gear stowed, washed my face, drank a LOT of water, and set off for Newburyport. Newburyport and the Belleville Church were both very easy to find (thanks to Ashara's excellent directions and the fact that the church is on a main drag, and as soon as I came towards it and saw all the cars parked around it and the people who were coming in and out, I thought, "these couldn't be anything but jmdlers" - you can just tell. I'm going to end this one here, because it's getting kind of long... To be continued... 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