New Hampshire, When You Can’t Get To Montana.

New Hampshire, When You Can’t Get To Montana.

Raw, honest travel blog.

I visited New Hampshire twice during my 6 months stay in USA.

My heart will always belong to New Hampshire — for the people, for the trees, for the vastness, for the experience. I love New Hampshire.
The locals were incredible. I remember my friend and I walking along the road to get to the shop where we would meet our friend who was living in New Hampshire. We made a weekend of it. We had taken the bus from Boston to Nashua, New Hampshire. On the walk along the road to the shop a car drove passed and men started howling out the window at us. I will admit, I burst out into laughter, as it was the most South African thing to have experienced. At least, that’s the South Africa I know.

There isn’t much to New Hampshire to be honest, compared to other more eventful states (or my dream destination, Montana!), but I loved that. The trees were bright orange and went on for miles. Signs on trees and along the roads warned about bears. Yes, where my friend and I were very cavalierly walking. It was a very redneck setup, with little cabin homes hidden amongst trees, small Home Depot. shops available far out from the houses, chopped wood and ax sitting in the yard of each home we did come across, with the American flag perched on each porch.
My first visit to New Hampshire…

There was meant to be an aupair meet up and sleep over. The five of us drove around looking for this house for what felt like forever, getting lost everywhere — ending up at dead ends and down someone’s driveway in the middle of nowhere, in the pitch dark of the night. A man walked out of his house, holding an ax — he had definitely been chopping wood, despite the stories my friends talk about ‘the night we all almost got shot by a crazy redneck American.’ Apparently he had a gun. Apparently there were two of them. Apparently they were mad. Apparently they were coming after us. Apparently we just made it out with our lives, because my friend was such a good driver. Yes, we all had to high five her for saving us with her driving skills.

While all my friends screamed and panicked about getting hacked to death, I was laughing my head off. Just imagine what this man must have seen. A car drives down his driveway in the middle of the night, shining brights directly into his home. He stops chopping wood and looks at this car that has appeared on his property. Suddenly, four young women start screaming and frantically bobbing about and looking around in their seats, while making the slowest getaway reverse EVER. Poor guy. How odd that car of girls was.

Eventually we found a gas station and asked the young guy who worked there for directions. Of course, when we got back on the road my friends all started screaming again because now the creepy gas station murderer would know where to find us. Truth be told, I think that kid working there was remarkably more shy than me, blushing at the girls talking to him, dressed in tiny dresses with heels and red lips, practically stuttering out the directions. Yes, he was super intimidating. He’s definitely an avid murderer, girls.

We arrived at the house, eventually. I was quite looking forward to falling asleep at the sleepover. That was a long time on the road. We pulled up into the driveway. I became very aware of my outfit. My comfy jeans, baggy top and makeup-less face compared to the models I just walked into the house with, because this was no sleep over. It was a full on house party, filled with Marines and aupairs from all over.

Throughout the night, my friend and I were followed around by a few Marines, who were there ‘for our protection’. It was a lot of fun. We lost a lot of friends throughout the evening, while they ran off with these VERY charismatic gents — fracturing the large group down to two people. My friend and I were less experienced and more shy with men, so we stuck together for the evening, watching out for one another, enjoying dancing with these Marines and closing off the night with long conversations about ourselves. I had met a fellow South African girl there, who incidentally was also aupairing in a different state. It was awesome.

Meet a Marine, check. Attend my first house party EVER, check. Not bad going, I’d say.

My second visit to New Hampshire was in the middle of winter. It was absurdly cold. I went with friends to Ice Castle — a literal castle shaped from ice. It is one of my fondest life memories. The place was pure magic. Built into the ice were varied coloured lights that started to shine through as the day faded into night. There were slides, made from ice. There were chairs and stairs, made from ice. There were water features, made from ice. There was a roofed area, with a chandelier-like impression. It was wonderful. Pure wonder! I cannot stress the magic of this experience enough. If you ever go to New Hampshire, do this. Take your kids and enjoy this amazing experience.

New Hampshire, until we meet again.

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