It took almost two months, but the silver car we got after trading in our much used and loved black and white cars to a Jersey City dealership finally arrived here (via the back of a truck) in late February, the bike rack in the back seat. The adventuring in locals around and beyond Berkeley has begun, resulting in two trips (on a long weekend for Charlie as he had a Monday and Tuesday off for staff development days) out to Contra Costa County, the first of which ended in the town I lived in when I was 4 to 8 years old, in a just-built tract home that had holes that let in mice and a horse living in a field behind our backyard.
All that farmland and open space has now been built up with the proper accoutrements of suburban life (malls, orderly boulevards of banks and financial companies' edifices, huge hospitals with matching parking lots, baseball fields -- you can play ball year-round here, Jim was pleased to note -- basketball courts and seemingly endless miles of bike trails).
The bike trail began in a different town and is in the upper left of the photo below.
Tuesday, we made the second trek to Contra Costa for a very successful and efficient (minus the traffic going in and the flat tire afterwards) visit to a new neurologist (who called in Charlie's prescriptions to the pharmacy immediately, including the one I realized we really needed as Charlie's supply of one medication had run out completely).
We were glad to be back by the water and that mural of the Black Power salute at the 1968 Olympics. Jim and Charlie had biked past it on a ride down Mandela Parkway on Monday and Wednesday they showed it to me.