For my next trip down to visit my colleagues at [[Yankee]], I’m taking a new route: Charlottetown - Montreal - Hartford, this after years of flying into Boston, either via Halifax or via Montreal.
Besides the novelty, my rationale for the switch is Air Canada’s schedule: travel time to Hartford is only 4-1/2 hours from Charlottetown, whereas most routings through to Boston take 6 or 7 hours once you factor in all the time in various airports (to say nothing of the airline’s increasing tendency to route Montreal - Boston flights through Ottawa).
Flying to Hartford also lets me leave Charlottetown later and get back earlier: I leave PEI at 5:20 p.m. and get to Hartford at 9:00 p.m., and on the return flight I leave Hartford at 5:40 p.m. and I’m back on the Island at 11:00 p.m. In both cases my layover in Montreal is about an hour. By comparison, to get back from Boston to Charlottetown in one day usually requires leaving Logan by 2:00 p.m.
There are only two downsides that I can see: the plane from Montreal to Bradley Airport in Connecticut is a Beech 1900D, a truly microscopic airplane. And it appears as though it’s going to take about 45 minutes longer to drive up into New Hampshire from Hartford than it does from Boston (although if you factor in Friday Boston traffic, I might still come out ahead).
Oh, and the Hartford routing was $150 cheaper than any Boston flight I could find for the same dates.
If you’ve any pointers or advice regarding Bradley Airport in Hartford (or the drive north into New Hampshire), I’d welcome it.
About This Blog
I am Peter Rukavina and this is my blog. I am a writer, letterpress printer, and a curious person.
To learn more about me, read my /now, look at my bio, listen to audio I’ve posted, read presentations and speeches I’ve written, or get in touch (peter@rukavina.net is the quickest way).
You can subscribe to an RSS feed of posts, an RSS feed of comments, or a podcast RSS feed that just contains audio posts. You can also receive a daily digests of posts by email.
Comments
I once drove through Hartford
I once drove through Hartford with a Connecticutian, and he advised me that stopping was not worth the effort.
I once flew in a Beech 1900 and a fellow passenger immediately annoyed the female pilot — greeting him at the door — by assuming she was the stewardess. We flew through a torrential storm and the sound of the rain pounding the roof sounded just as it used to in my old Datsun 210, except at 12,000 feet.
Have fun!
Hartford airport is a
Hartford airport is a complete dump. I used to fly into there when I was doing a project in Shelton, CT. Even the folks from CT cringe when you mention that you’re flying into Hartford. Make sure you eat _before_ going through security…
Bradley Airport, as I
Bradley Airport, as I remember it (I went to college in Western Mass, so that was THE airport), is dull, utilitarian, and gray, though I’ve heard they’ve build a new concourse. It’s not as bad as these folks are making it out to be! If you’re driving through Western Mass, stop off Exit 18 from Interstate 91, take a left, and check out Northampton. It’s a great place to have dinner and people-watch.
Flashback. I spent 7 weeks
Flashback. I spent 7 weeks in Hartford at a training session. Fist memory is of being ushered into an apartment complex with a center courtyard. One entrance to the courtyard with gates and guard. That was the only way one could enter the rooms. Advised by sponsors of the program to never leave the area after dark unless in groups of 3 or more.
2nd memory is of heading out for coffee. As we stood at a corner waiting for the light to change to cross traffic, my wife nudged me and pointed down. There was a sewer opening with two very large rats looking out and they were staring at the traffic light. When the light changed, allowing us to cross, the rats jumped out of the sewer, ran across the road and went into another sewer opening. Smart rats.
3 memory is of a smart-assed Texan who was with the group. Ego bigger than a dump truck and mouth to match. Always loud and brash. Noted one morning he was quiet and moving awkwardly, I asked. He was returning from a bar the previous night (alone), and was approached by a lady of the evening. It appears he called here something unkind. She punched him, stunning him, pulled his trousers down and with a safety pin, pinned his (er, you know), to his stomach.
Don’t think I will go back.
And here I was thinking it
And here I was thinking it was going to be all Gilmore Girlsey.
While we are at CT full
While we are at CT full disclosuse, good luck if you visit it in summmer if you want to find the 12 feet of beachfront that is not privately owned and beyond the razorwire.
Add new comment