Newport Adventures
After successfully defending my thesis, I decided the proper way to celebrate academic triumph was exploring how the obscenely wealthy lived during the Gilded Age. Because nothing says “I conquered graduate school” quite like touring 70-room “summer cottages,” right?
Ferry Terminal Panic
After the rental car confusion the night before (apparently my carefully researched BMW became a Volvo somewhere between reservation and reality), I was already feeling slightly off my travel game. You know that feeling when one small thing goes differently than planned, and suddenly you’re questioning every other detail?
So when we arrived at Orient Point Ferry Terminal with only five minutes to board (with our car, mind you), what should have been a quick “drive on and relax” moment instead sent me into what can only be described as complete directional paralysis.
I’m sitting in the car frantically consulting my phone, asking Rashid to consult anyone who looked remotely competent. The ferry is RIGHT THERE, but we cannot figure out where the car entrance is. So naturally, we did what any logical people would do – we drove through the exit.
Yes, you read that correctly. The EXIT.
This is precisely when my phone rings.
“Darling, you sound frantic,” comes that perfectly-timed voice from Zurich. It’s ALPIE, calling from Crown Hollow with that characteristic Swiss superiority that only an older sister can deliver. “Do you need helicopter rescue? I can arrange extraction within the hour.”
HELICOPTER RESCUE. From Switzerland. For driving through the wrong entrance at a ferry terminal… she was kidding, of course!
This is my actual life, people.
Somehow, through a combination of helpful ferry staff and pure determination, we managed to get the car properly positioned and boarded. Once we parked and made our way to the passenger seating, I could finally breathe again.
The ferry ride to New London was absolutely gorgeous – Connecticut coastline, perfect June weather, and the deep satisfaction of having survived my own travel anxiety.
The Breakers
And then we arrived at The Breakers.
Walking through Cornelius Vanderbilt II’s “summer cottage” was like stepping into a fever dream of Gilded Age excess. Seventy rooms. SEVENTY. For summer weekends. Every surface dripping with gold, marble imported from Italy, rooms larger than most people’s entire houses.
I’m wandering through these palatial spaces thinking, “This was their vacation house. For a few months a year.” The contrast with our perfectly nice Hampton Inn suddenly seemed rather stark.
The Great Hall alone could house a small village. The dining room could seat royalty – and probably did. And the bathrooms? Let’s just say the Vanderbilts believed that even basic human functions deserved marble and gold leaf.
Coastal Dining Break
After The Breakers completely overwhelmed our capacity for processing Gilded Age excess, we parked at The Elms and walked to The Reef for lunch. Ocean views, perfectly prepared seafood, and that wonderful moment when you need to decompress from mansion overload with some normal-sized rooms and regular human-scale dining.
Rashid and I sat there watching the harbor, processing what we’d just experienced and preparing ourselves for round two of wealth appreciation.
The Elms
Returning to The Elms after lunch, I found what I suppose counts as “restraint” when you’re discussing obscene wealth – French château elegance instead of Italian palazzo drama. The Berwind family clearly had exquisite taste, even if they also had more money than several small countries combined.
I found myself taking mental notes on architectural details, color palettes, the way natural light moved through those enormous windows. You can take the designer out of the mansion tour, but you can’t take the design appreciation out of the designer.
The gardens were particularly stunning – formal French design that made me appreciate European landscape architecture in a completely new context.
The Newport Revelation
Newport taught me that Americans have always known how to do excess with extraordinary style, that European architectural influences take on fascinating new meanings when transplanted to Rhode Island, and that sometimes travel anxiety leads to the most entertaining family stories.
The whole experience was the perfect way to celebrate thesis defense success – a reminder that education opens doors to appreciating beauty, history, and the occasionally ridiculous ways people have chosen to display their wealth.
Next time though, I’m definitely insisting on that BMW.
All Around The World 