Last Saturday my wife and I went to the Hartford Connecticut Temple. Or tried to go to the temple. The day before we decided to travel early, a habit we had when we go to the Philippines Manila temple on weekends. But my wife was still suffering from jetlag and I let her sleep until past seven in the morning. Still we were optimistic that we would catch the 11:30 am session.
After packing and breakfast, we were on our way to the Lord’s house; our first visit here in the US. Before leaving the hotel I checked Google maps for the busses that we need to take to commute to the temple in Farmington, CT. I was surprised that the busses listed on the app were scheduled on Monday.
“This can’t be right?” I said to myself. I thought the reason for the schedule was that snow had fallen the night before. But busses were passing by when we braved the ice cold wind outside of the hotel. That was a good sign, I thought.
The app said that we should take busses number 60-66 to get to our destination. So when I saw 64W with the words Farmington Ave on the LED screen above the bus windshield, my wife and I went in and were relieved from the frigid temperature.
All was well during the trip. I showed her some sights like the Mark Twain house and the Aetna building that looked more like a university than a insurance company. But my confidence dropped when the bus made a left turn instead of going straight. I confided with my wife that we may had taken the wrong bus, and not long it was confirmed I was right when the bus made its way back to downtown.
Stopping somewhere in West Hartford we waited in a bus stop, a photo op for my wife as she took pictures of us on the snow. Bus 62 came in view, and thinking that the absence of a third digit I thought that this was the correct bus. Unfortunately, this bus turned to the right where our earlier bus turned left. Having asked the driver, which I should have done in the first place, we learned that the bus we should take was 66T. Unfortunately, it wasn’t available in the weekends (hence, the Monday schedule in my Google maps app). There were busses number 66H but it would only take us to UCONN Health Center. From there we had to walk to get to the temple.
“How long will it take for us to walk?” I asked.
“It’s some distance,” he answered, looking through the Waze app in his smartphone. “About half an hour. In good days you can walk, but not in this weather.” He pointed to the sky outside which was white with overcast. Despite his warning, we decided to push forward. We can handle thirty minutes of walking. In my mind we would be walking across suburban communities.
Bracing a long hike, we ate in a Chinese restaurant called Black Bamboo where we ordered wonton soups and General Tso’s Chicken (I give it a 4.5 stars out of 5. They did not have siopao). As with other restaurants, the servings filled more than the two of us and we had to take out what was left. Waiting for 66H, my confidence again rose and the anticipation of going to new places excited me. Not long we boarded 66H and were on our way to the temple. Or so we thought. Farmington was more provincial if compared to the Philippines than its neighbor Hartford. Meaning bare trees flanked the road side with few houses in between.
When we reached UCONN Health Center, traversed almost the whole compound, and dropping at the Outpatient Pavilion, I had doubts whether will be making it to the temple. The weather did not let up, and when I checked Google map I realized that our driver had underestimated the distance we need to take. Instead of half an hour the app said it would take more than an hour to reach the temple. That is two hours of walking. And I was worried that with that distance we won’t make it to the return trip back to our hotel.
I shared my feelings to my wife and she agreed that we need to postpone our temple trip. We took the opportunity to take pictures again while waiting for the bus to take us back to Hartford.
So our adventure ended up not going to our desired destination. But that was okay. We were able to go on an unexpected tour. And with the transit system that greatly differs to the Philippines, all the busses we rode only cost $ 7.00. My wife enjoyed the views and the trip, and wished our kids could see the piles of snow that we only had seen in TV. Despite not being able to step in to His Holy House, I think Heavenly Father is pleased with our efforts. Isn’t life like that? We tried our best, and we usually fall short. But we can try again and do better. With better planning and better preparation.
“Next time let’s take Uber,” my wife said. Sure. Totally agree.
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