Mural Hunting in Pawcatuck & Westerly

I've long had a love-hate relationship with murals, or maybe it would be more accurate to say a mix of love and skepticism; I'm always happy to spy a mural, whether stretched out along the flood wall of a small Midwestern river town or splashed across an old brick building in a New England city. There's no denying that they brighten up the streetscape, and when they depict events in local history and have a vintage look - which they often do - I'm drawn to them even more. And yet. Sometimes I see people getting all excited about a bright new mural in an economically distressed municipality, as if one Instagram-friendly section of wall can solve every problem, and the cynical side of me (which tbh is about 7/8 of my total being) just rolls its eyes.

But the murals keep going up, and I keep crossing the street to take pictures of them, so I have to admit I'm slowly being won over by the lure of paint skillfully applied to brick. I posted here last year about the New London Mural Walk (still the largest collection of murals in New England, as far as I know) but my recent trip to Detroit's Eastern Market neighborhood may have been the tipping point: there, for the first time, I got the sense that large-scale public art might really have the power (along with a slew of other efforts, of course) to change a neighborhood for the better.

So I was feeling uncharacteristically optimistic last week when I went in search of a brand new collection of murals in Pawcatuck and neighboring Westerly, RI. These were done all at once, over the course of the four-day Bricks and Murals Festival, held in September. The murals were painted on Connecticut and Rhode Island buildings by a traveling band of artists called the Walldogs, who do this kind of thing all over the world. The Westerly-Pawcatuck event was the first time the group has come to decorate a community in the northeast.

There are fifteen murals, I think; I didn't find all of them, and I didn't photograph all that I found. But I spotted most of them, and it was a fun, nerdy little scavenger hunt. The paintings aren't necessarily in the most obvious locations, which also helps to remove any hint of a promotional stunt. (Which it pretty much is; the Bricks and Murals website says the aim of the project is to "[create] an exciting destination for locals and visitors alike" and "[open] the area to opportunities for future events and activities.") The paintings look as if they could have sprung up organically over a period of decades, and they share a 1930s style that fits in perfectly in the historic, walkable centers of Pawcatuck, in the eastern part of Stonington, and Westerly, just over the state line.

Of course, you don't need murals as an excuse to visit these connected border towns. Tiny Pawcatuck is an attractive and underappreciated corner of Connecticut, and Westerly, with its old-fashioned main street and serene Wilcox Park, is always worth a stop. But in a surprisingly subtle way, these new additions enhance the appeal that was already there.

5 of Connecticut's Best Bridges

EAST HADDAM SWING BRIDGE

I have a bit of a love-hate thing with bridges. Some bridges, I find terrifying (there's no logic to it, but having skyway or spillway or causeway in the name doesn't help.) Other bridges are a pleasure to cross. And then there are the bridges I'd drive a day out of my way to avoid - I mean seriously, who invented this nightmare - but love watching other people traverse on YouTube.

But even though I usually wish I could magically transport my car to the opposite riverbank using the power of my mind, I can't deny the appeal of a bridge. It's not just that they literally take you to places you'd otherwise need a boat to reach, or that they symbolically represent the connection between sometimes very different places. It's also that they often look striking, lending a place an atmosphere it wouldn't otherwise have, and that they're a built-in alert message to bored drivers: Hey, something new and different might waiting for you right over there, on the other side.

I chose these five Connecticut bridges with some very simple criteria: they had to be attractive to look at - as you're crossing them as well as from below; they had to have some interesting facts, trivia, or history associated with them; and they had to lead to a place (or places) worth visiting in its own right. I could have chosen many other bridges with different points to recommend them, such as walkability or age, so if you have a different favorite, do leave a comment below.

East Haddam Swing Bridge (Connecticut River, East Haddam - Haddam)

It's not often that traffic comes to a dead halt at a seemingly random time of day and no one minds because the cause for the hold-up is so darn charming. It pretty much only happens when a line of fuzzy ducklings are crossing the road or when the East Haddam Swing Bridge is swinging. The truss bridge carrying Route 82 across the Connecticut opened to traffic in 1913. Since then, it has pivoted to allow boats to pass, while trapping motorists either in the quiet beauty of Haddam or in East Haddam's intensely picturesque town center.* According to East Haddam's website, which lists the bridge as an attraction, the "899-foot long bridge is reputed to be the longest of its type in the world." And its timing isn't quite random; it "opens to recreational traffic on the hour and half hour and on-demand for commercial barge traffic."

On the Haddam side, you'll find small villages where the distant past feels like just a little while ago and hidden history everywhere you turn. In East Haddam, there's the Goodspeed Opera House (I recently saw my first Goodspeed production and highly recommend the experience), Nathan Hale Schoolhouse, restaurants, independent shops, historic homes, and quite a lot more.

Mystic River Bascule Bridge (Mystic River, Groton - Stonington)

In a town (which is actually not a town) full of  tourist destinations, you might think a small drawbridge wouldn't earn the status of a beloved attraction. In Mystic, you'd be mistaken. People come from all over to watch the bascule bridge connecting the Groton and Stonington sides of Mystic go up, letting water traffic pass by and creating a waiting line of vehicles and pedestrians, then go down again. This 1920 bridge carried streetcars in its first few years of use; though those are gone, the bridge retains the look of a curiosity from another age.

There's an ice cream shop perfectly situated for bridge-watching, and downtown Mystic both east and west of the river is usually bustling with people shopping for everything from books to accessories or visiting one of a long list of highly rated restaurants. That's all as nice as it sounds, but as in many parts of Connecticut, the best part might just be wandering the waterfront and its historic neighborhoods. (Make sure to get off of Route 1 and see the side streets.) If you're exploring the area near the bridge itself, I strongly recommend leaving your car and walking; other major highlights like Mystic Seaport and Mystic Aquarium, as well as Olde Mistick Village, are slightly further away.

Route 185 Bridge (Farmington River, Simsbury)

The bridge that carries Route 185, aka Hartford Road, across the Farmington River is officially named the Bataan Corregidor Memorial Bridge, but I've never heard anyone call it that. I've never heard anyone call it anything. It's not grand or long or high. It's not ornate or particularly old (it dates from 1947.) Yet as soon as you spot it, you're instantly struck with a sense of calm and an appreciation for the simplicity of the countryside. This is not one of the scary bridges. And Simsbury is not exactly the countryside - it's a large suburb, and Route 185 is the domain of numerous stressed-out commuters. But the town is a perfect example of how rural and suburban can blend so nicely in Hartford County, and this humble green steel bridge seems to tie it all together.

The main (if not the only) reason people normally visit this bridge on purpose is located in the little park across from Nod Road. It's easy to drive over the bridge multiple times and completely miss this attraction, despite it being very, very big. It's the Pinchot Sycamore, and at 23 feet, 7 inches in circumference, it's Connecticut's largest tree. After you see the tree, cross the bridge to Hopmeadow Street to find Simsbury's historic and bustling downtown. Or head to Rosedale Farms and Vineyards, a favorite of photographers looking for that perfect winery shot. And then, of course, there's the Route 185 Bridge's more famous relative, the gorgeous Old Drake Hill Flower Bridge. Simsbury is a great place to walk, and if you're biking, it might be even better.

West Cornwall Covered Bridge (Housatonic River, Cornwall - Sharon)

Perhaps the most picture-ready of Connecticut's covered bridges, and right up there with those in other New England states too, this barn-red wooden covered lattice truss bridge crosses the Housatonic River in Litchfield County. Though this bridge was built in the late 19th century (and modernized in the 1960s and '70s), a series of earlier bridges have connected the small towns of Cornwall and Sharon (West Cornwall is a part of Cornwall) since sometime in the late 1700s. At 15 feet wide, the bridge can only accommodate one car at a time, so drivers on Route 128 (also called the Sharon-Goshen Turnpike) have to take turns. This works out remarkably well, considering how dangerous it seems when you first encounter the system, and adds to the quaintness of the whole experience.

The area surrounding the bridge is simply beautiful (the phrase "unspoiled by time" may pop into your mind as you drive.) On the Cornwall side, you can still see the building once used as the toll house (which I mentioned in my post about the toll house in Plymouth.) It now houses one of a handful of businesses clustered together on these pleasantly curving roads. Drive the other way, towards the New York border, and you'll reach the center of Sharon,* a classic Connecticut small town laid out so its buildings charmingly line up around the green and continue temptingly down little side-streets.

Arrigoni Bridge (Connecticut River, Portland - Middletown)

The delicate, sky-blue Arrigoni Bridge often comes up in rush-hour traffic reports, but when it's not bothering delayed central Connecticut commuters, it's a lovely landmark that can be appreciated from many vantage points. Completed in 1938, this through arch bridge connects a city known for college students and cupcakes to a town that mostly remains off the tourist radar. Its gently curving steel outline seems to float above Route 17 and Route 66 as they cross the water, and at almost 50 feet wide, it manages to evoke the wide-open sort of river crossing you might expect to find in the Midwest rather than spanning the Connecticut River.

Portland, small in population and not-so-small in area, boasts some architectural surprises (two octagon houses in a row!) and looks like a graceful mix of old river city, comfortably blue collar town, and former industrial center. (The main concern was the brownstone quarries, which provided the raw material for landmark buildings in numerous major East Coast cities.) On the other side of the bridge is Middletown, home of Wesleyan University and numerous cultural institutions. For specifics, click to see why I included Middletown in a previous "Top Five" - 5 Underrated Small Connecticut Cities. From the riverfront near Middletown's broad, welcoming Main Street, you can see traffic crossing the Arrigoni Bridge up above. And you'll also see the bridge if you glance up from Route 9 at that strange moment when it morphs unexpectedly from a highway to a local road complete with traffic lights. This arrangement may be changed eventually, because it is ridiculous, but for now, it's a uniquely weird Connecticut driving experience.


*The town centers of both East Haddam and Sharon are high on my list of places to write proper blog posts about in the future!

Fun Company & Swag | Two Shoreline Shops

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

These two stores on the Connecticut shoreline might not be exactly alike in dignity, but they share certain attributes that made me want to combine them into one post. They're both great for rummaging and finding surprises, they're both a safe bet if you need to buy a gift, and they both offer substantial discounts - which is not to say that all their goods are inexpensive (far from it), just that you can find very good deals if you look.

Fun Company in Stonington calls itself "the original sample outlet." The front room is filled with discount "designer" clothing (I put designer in quotes because I've never heard of most of the brands I've seen there, but that probably says more about me not being a colorful printed tunic person than anything else) children's things, and assorted sundry gift-y items. The back room is temptingly packed with linens - sheets, comforters, pillow shams, and so on, also discounted, and more little gifts. (I'm talking about the Cutler Street location; there is another, on Water Street, which carries mostly clothing and accessories.)

The reason I love Fun Company (or Fun, or FUN; I've seen it written all of these ways, I don't even know which is right, does it matter?) is for its stock of candles. This store has become my secret source for impressively inexpensive fancy candles that smell approximately 9,000 times better than the icky ones you can buy at those two candle stores in the mall. (Which shall remain nameless, though at least it's clear what their names are.)

I also love this place because sometimes while you are shopping a cat will appear, looking like a puff of black cotton candy with round yellow eyes, and push its little head into your hand while refusing to pose for photos.

Swag on Main Street in Old Saybrook is, well, random. That may be the most overused word of the decade - it's certainly the most overused word by me - but I have to use it here because, damn me if this place is not a collection of pure random. There's art, pretty soaps, clocks, greeting cards, candy, gag gifts, napkins, baby paraphernalia, a seasonal holiday section, and furniture. There's outdoorsy stuff, like insulated bags to tote around your chilled beverages, and a lot of beachy home accessories, like quotes about the beach printed on painted driftwood. There are magnets and pins and lanterns and I don't even know what, and it all changes regularly, so by the time you get there it might have different things entirely. (Like Fun Company, Swag - or SWAG - again, I don't know - also has a second store across the street for clothes and accessories.)

When I went to Swag to take these pictures I bought a tiny cotton flag with my first initial on it, which I don't need but I almost thought I needed at that moment because it was very cute and it cost $1. And that pretty much sums up shopping at Swag.

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

FUN COMPANY, STONINGTON

SWAG, OLD SAYBROOK

SWAG, OLD SAYBROOK

SWAG, OLD SAYBROOK

SWAG, OLD SAYBROOK

SWAG, OLD SAYBROOK

Mystic

Like probably every Connecticut schoolchild, I went to Mystic Seaport and Aquarium a lot back in the day. I don't know why we went so often (it was always either Mystic or the Museum of Natural History in New York; you'd think all the adults in our lives were secretly training us to hunt whales) but I do remember that no one ever mentioned the non-Seaport, non-Aquarium side of Mystic.

Perhaps the village's central shopping and dining area, and the bascule bridge that spans the Mystic River between Mystic's Groton and Stonington sides, were not big tourist attractions in the 1980s. After all, that was before Mystic Pizza (not filmed in Mystic) became a nostalgic favorite. Or perhaps I was just a clueless, day-dreaming child who didn't pay attention. (I was.)

These days, however, the historic districts anchored by West and East Main Streets, and the twisty quasi-grid of hills that branch off from them, are almost always full of people. People lining up for tours, people sitting outside drinking coffee, people watching that famous bridge raise up, as the line of cars and pedestrians waits to cross, then watching it lower again.

If you, like childhood me, are of the belief that the Seaport and Aquarium are all Mystic has to offer - or if you, like grown-up me, can't afford the crazy admission fees - I encourage you to go explore the downtown area. It's not exactly off the beaten path; in fact it's pretty bustling. (Get there early for easier parking, and don't miss the side-streets with their enviable historic homes and fewer tourists.) But I'm sure there are many visitors who pass through the village without even thinking to venture beyond the familiar old school field trip spots.

Tour 1 (4 of 4)

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.)

"At New London US 1 crosses the Thames River on a steel bridge that is sufficiently high to afford a view straight down New London harbor, one of the deepest on the Atlantic coast with more than three miles of navigable water frequented by seagoing vessels of many types."

So says the FWP guidebook for Connecticut, published in 1938. This is still true, except that the bridge is now the Gold Star Memorial Bridge, the twin pale blue spans that swoop high over New London, carrying I-95 as well as Route 1 over the river. My practice on bridges is usually to stare straight ahead and attempt to delude myself into believing there's no water below, so I didn't confirm the brilliance of the view.

On the other side, in Groton, the Guide goes into a tizzy over US 1 and US 1A and US 1 Alt, but in front of me plain old Route 1 just kept going, all by itself. I reached the Site of the 'Hive of the Averys' where a "dignified shaft" - in reality a somewhat ridiculous-looking bust atop a high pillar, like a decapitated Pilgrim on a pike - marked the location of the former Avery homestead (think Avery Point) home of generations of Groton notables.

I passed the "hamlet" of Poquonock Bridge, with its Baptist Church and fire station, the basis of many communities, it seems, as if all there is in life is to pray things don't catch fire and put them out when they do.

I came to West Mystic, which sounded suddenly like a fantastical location along the lines of West Xylophone. Drop the "West" and for some reason the make-believe aspect goes away too, and it's just old familiar Mystic. Which, the Guide informs me, the British during the Revolution called "a cursed little hornet's nest." If I were in charge I'd put that on all the village's welcome signs. I'd sell "cursed little hornet's nest" tote bags.

I've noted before that there's a conspicuous lack of Mystic on this blog, being both such a famous destination and so close to where I live. I'm waiting till it's colder to go back, when I can walk around taking pictures more freely and no one will care if I loiter on the sidewalk because all the tourists will be gone.

Well, all the tourists except me, I suppose.

East of the Mystic bascule bridge, almost too playful for a functioning piece of infrastructure, I eventually came to Mason's Island Road. Mason's Island was "presented to Captain John Mason of Windsor in appreciation of his victory over the Pequots." The statue of Mason that once stood near here has been removed to parts north, but eponymous his road and island ("sightseers are not welcome") remain.

Quiambog Cove, where there was supposed to be "an excellent view of Fisher's Island,"was as pretty as it must have been 70 years ago, and though the tour did not go through Stonington Borough, its description of the place - a "quiet old whaling port...on a peninsula, undisturbed by the rush of traffic" held up just fine.

Nearing the end of my drive I reached Wequetequock, one of my favoritely named Connecticut villages (two Q's! it's almost the Albuquerque of New England!) Wequetequock is so small that if you're not paying attention you can miss the fire station and the little lamp-post shaped sign and never know it's there.

You have to pay attention in Pawcatuck too, and make an effort to stop there, or else you'll get unwittingly whisked across the Pawcatuck river into Rhode Island.

But if you do stop, if you park as soon as you see the small downtown ahead, you might be pleasantly surprised, as I was the first time I came here.

On this day Pawcatuck was all red brick and red paint, a strong red that made the village look more solid and less an appendage of Westerly then it had before.

I could see Rhode Island just across the river, and that was the end of Tour 1. It was, also, however, the beginning of Tour 1J. But it will be a while before I get to that.

Days of Wine and Roses

I had never noticed before that the arms of Adirondack chairs are just the right shape for a wine glass. I was at (obviously) Saltwater Farm Vineyard - which is possibly my favorite of the vineyards I wrote about here - with Elizabeth of Connecticut Day Trips.

Someone once said to me, "Your photos never have any people in them!" And it's mostly true. I did take other pictures of the 1930s airplane-hangar-turned-tasting-room, and they had people in them - whole bridal parties full of people in fact. But the contrast between the aluminum-covered structure and the neat rows of grape vines, which makes this place so unique, just looked better in the pictures that were people-free.

Oh, there's a person! (A very small person, but still.)

At one point my earring made a break for it and threw itself into the grass, where somehow - despite my not having moved from the Adirondak chair - it managed to travel far enough away that I couldn't find it. (If this song had been written in Connecticut, it would have been called Wine Makes Her Accessories Fall Off. That would be the classy version, ya know.)

It was a perfect day to sit looking out at the vines and the flowers and the sky.

And to walk down to the water and watch an Amtrak train speed by.

And then, being in Stonington, I was able to go to A.K. Dasher, which I've mentioned before, and get some replacement earrings! Because there's not much you can do with one hoop, unless you're a pirate. And because you can't find sterling silver earrings for $8.50 just anywhere.

And then we wandered around the Borough, where the doors are always inviting.

And the flowers are always, somehow, wonderfully matched with the nearby plaques.

And they aren't letting that little War of 1812 Anniversary thing get in the way of their flags.

And then we went to a place we had both independantly wanted to go for, like, ever, Dog Watch Cafe. (We also both independantly got lost on the approximately one minute trip to the restaurant, and while I was driving in a big stupid loop, I glanced at the map on my smart phone and it thought I was in the water.)

But I got there (entirely overland) and had a salmon sandwich that looked so good I had to become one of those people who takes photos of food instead of just doors. (It tasted even better than it looked.)

You can't walk around Stonington Borough with a camera and not stop for the roses. They must be fiercely competitive about them, because they're perfect all the time. I'm glad I don't live in a place where you'd feel obliged to always have your fence adorned with perfect roses. But I'm very happy I live just a few minutes away.