Left Charlottetown later yesterday afternoon on what seemed like an endless Dash 8 flight to Montreal (I understand why they invented jet planes). Glided through U.S. Customs pre-clearance on a cloud (it’s much, much, much faster to go through on a Sunday night than on a Monday morning).

Walked the entire length of the international terminal to Gate 87 to catch my micro-flight to Hartford, Connecticut and found half a dozen others waiting. Our departure time came and went. Ten minutes after we were to be in the air a harried gate agent showed up and we found that the original gate agent was MIA and the air crew were trapped on the other side of the security doors, unable to do anything.

The “air crew” on the tiny Beechcraft plane was the captain and co-pilot cum flight attendant. The best part of the flight was the taxi to the runway with the cockpit doors open coming up right behind a giant British Airways jet; otherwise it was about an hour in the air and uneventful.

Bradley Airport in Hartford has taken a page from the Hamilton, Ontario airport design book: drab, featureless and confusing. It was additionally full of shifty-looking types.

I expected the Hertz counter to be as deserted as every other stop on my trip. I was wrong: for some reason everyone was waiting in line there, and I stood in line for about 15 minutes. Fortunately my time in line allowed me to overhear someone at the counter being handed the keys to a Toyota Prius. As I’ve tried and failed to find someone to rent me a Prius for several years, when I got to the counter I asked if I could swap out my Subaru for a Prius. Initially it looked like this wasn’t going to happen; fortunately an eagle-eared clerk next door tracked one down for me, and so five minutes later I was in the future, trying to figure out how to power the thing on.

I figured it out (key fob in slot, press Power button — easy). And then spent another five minutes navigating through the dashboard computer, figuring out how to tune the radio and defrost the windows. The 121 mile drive from Hartford to Peterborough, NH took me through Massachusetts and Vermont, making for travel through two provinces and four states in the space of an evening. The drive was very, very foggy — “can’t see the centre line” foggy at times. But I took it slowly, and didn’t have to do much navigating, as it was mostly a straight shot up Interstate 91 and east on Route 9 to Keene, then Route 101 to Peterborough.

I arrived at the venerable Jack Daniels Motor Inn at exactly 1:00 a.m. and fell almost instantly to sleep.

Gas mileage for this leg: 47.7 miles per gallon. Meaning that it cost me about $5.60 in gas to get here. More on the Prius as we get to know each other.