on journey: delaware

Before driving to Delaware from my home in Virginia, I had to stop at my bank to clear up a case of identity theft.  The day before, I had received a phone call from a number “spoofing” my bank’s phone number (which was entered as a contact in my phone).  The person on the line identified himself as being with the bank’s fraud department and sounded very official when he told me someone had used my debit card twice in Atlanta, Georgia to the tune of $500 each time.  After 45 minutes on the line with this person, who fooled me into believing he was from my bank and thus successfully extracted private information, I found out through various notifications from the bank that I had in fact been talking to the fraudster!  He had, while on the phone with me, stolen nearly $3,500 from my account from various places in Florida. To say I was upset would be an understatement.  I was not only furious, but I felt foolish for falling for the scheme.

It would be hard for me to relax in Delaware while this was outstanding, but my banker assured me I would get my money back, and that I had to wait until the charge moved from “pending” to “posted,” before I could take any action to claim fraudulent charges.

That wasn’t a good start to my getaway, but I soldiered on nonetheless.  The trip was planned, hotel reservations were made, and the weather forecast was perfect.  I had to drive the southern loop of the Capital Beltway because of an accident on the northern loop. I passed from Virginia through the District of Columbia and into Maryland. A sign reminded me to Drive Sober or Get Pulled Over, as if I needed such a reminder.

A song from the TV show Nashville, “The Moon is High,” serenaded me. It was a romantic and dreamy song, but sadly, I would be alone on this trip as my husband had to work.

As I crossed the Pearl Harbor Memorial Bridge over the Severn River northwest of Annapolis, Maryland, I admired the beautiful houses lining the green hillsides along the river. I passed Red Hot & Blue BBQ and by 11:00, I was crossing the high, endless, and scary Chesapeake Bay Bridge.

I drove through Kent Island, known to be the first English settlement, and stopped at Valero for gas and facilities. Castle Marina and Cox Creek reminded me I had crossed into the coastal lowlands of Maryland. At the Rainbow Plaza was a Psychic Advisor, if I had needed one.  At Kent Narrows, I passed the Maryland Waterman’s Monument, and sprawling marinas glistened in the waterways.  The temperature on my dash said it was 70ºF, perfect, as I passed businesses selling colorful beach umbrellas and Adirondack chairs. Harrington Raceway and Casino promised: We’re “all in'” for you.

Signs for Deer Corn flashed past, as well as We Got ‘Em Hunting Service.  Then it was 60 miles to Rehoboth as I passed through a flat area of wheatfields, barns and silver silos. Light bounced off the cars, like summer on fire.  I crossed Tuckahoe Creek and gold tipped wheat fields arced by farm irrigation sprinklers, like giant praying mantises hovering over the land. A fruit stand offered a rainbow of fresh produce. A line of American flags blew in the breeze and I crossed the Choptank River and past the blue “Town of Denton” water tower.  I continued driving through Historic Federalsburg, giant silver barns, and cylindrical hay bales.

At noon, I crossed the Delaware state line: Welcome to Delaware: Liberty and Independence. The Heritage Bible Church promised: Behold, I come quickly. Soon, a junkyard followed, then cows, silos and more sprinklers on farmland.  Wilderlove, with handmade and vintage goods, and Brazilian Jiu Jitsu were on offer.  Cute cottages with screened porches lined the streets of Greenwood. U.S. flags were stuck on telephone poles.

The outer sprawl of Rehoboth was as commercial as any suburb, with Mendoza’s Family Market and the Tressler Mennonite Church. A beautiful and dramatic song called “The Akara” drifted through the car, exotic and old-fashioned all at once.  Kemps Liquors enticed with “Ice Cold Beer,” while A Walk Through Time Antiques promised vintage goods. Farmer Girl Exotic Gardens seemed an oasis and an anomaly in the beach town.

When I passed the Prime Hook National Wildlife Refuge, I noted it for a possible visit. A sign offered Acupuncture, Herbs and Cupping.  If I were the tattooing kind, I could have stopped at tough luck tattoo and then eaten at Surf Bagel & Deli after. Or I could have had a go at go brit fish and chips if I’d wanted a British slant to my road trip. Atlantic Liquors boasted it was The Greatest Liquor Store in the World!

Rehoboth is a promise of all thing beachy: Fish Ale House and Raw Bar, Pyschic at the Beach, Aqua Sea Shell Shop, Jake’s Seafood House, Big Chill Surf Cantina, Crab House, and Beach Boutique Hotel.

I parked my car in the center of Rehoboth for three hours, and set out to explore.

*Tuesday, June 4, 2019*

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