While the tourist map of Kilmarnock and the surrounding area offered a tantalising array of historical sites and places of interest (Jamestown, first English settlement, and Williamsburg to name but two) but there was nothing - and I mean NOTHING - in the way of public transport.  The town didn’t even have a taxi service.  The absence of any semblance of a bus service anywhere in the US other than urban conurbations is a source of real frustration because it effectively means we are confined to the marina and the immediate area (not always the most picturesque part of town). 

Upon arrival we enquired at the marina office about the nearest grocery store they told us it was 1.5 miles away but they would be happy to arrange a lift the next morning, which they duly did.   The general handyman, Jonathan, dropped me off at Wal-Mart and I think he would have waited for me but I told him that for those of us uninterested in sailing and studying charts, a morning at Wal-Mart was what passed for entertainment.  When he got back to the marina he then ferried Melvyn around various places looking for parts for the engine.  He told Melv he was off for a week’s hunting.  Melv asked whether he ever shot bear and he said no, partly because it was hell’s own job to get the thing back to the truck but mostly because it smelt so damn bad.

The Marina had four bicycles for the use of visitors and so we set off in mid-afternoon to find the grocery store (unusually a “proper” supermarket in the heart of the town) and to have an early supper with a view to getting back before dark.  The road from the Marina had a reasonably long drag up to the town, but it was fun free wheeling on the way back!  We had been told Lee’s was THE place.  Good home cooking, including their famous pies.  Well, yes, it was home cooking – but not everyone at home is a good cook!  The meal was so-so and the homemade pies wouldn’t cause Mr Kipling to loose any sleep.

The following day (whilst Melv was still fiddling with the engine) I went off on the bicycle again and this time went further and called in to the Kilmarnock Museum.  I met the founder/curator and one of the volunteer guides and was shown their “Scottish Corner” which included a football shirt signed by the winning side in a long ago Scottish championship match and a bottle of Johnny Walker.  The guide told me the level goes down, so he can only assume it evaporates over time.  I said I thought it highly probably because I’d heard Melv give the same explanation for the falling level of his whisky.  I have subsequently heard from our Scottish friend, Liz, that Johnny Walker is keen to leave Kilmarnock, which will leave a bit of a gap in their Scottish Corner.

As you can imagine, there are few bicycles on the US roads and I was thrilled to be waved at - in a comradely way - by a lycra-clad racing cyclist coming the other way.  Fortunately it was on a flat bit and I was actually peddling, at some inclines I got off and pushed.

The town gives the impression of being affluent and the Main Street has lots of “lifestyle” shops, antique stores, furniture, lighting etc but several were either closed down or advertising closing down sales.  Also the local radio was advertising an event at the aforementioned supermarket to collect contributions to the Virginia Food Bank project – so there are obviously some very poor people in the area.

This photograph doesn’t do justice to the idyllic setting in Indian Creek.