Raleigh, NC

Raleigh, North Carolina.

Obama came here once and had a beer. And that's about all there is to say about the place, apart from the fact that it's where our journey begins.

Not because of Obama, mind you. Nor because of anything else worthy about the place — because there isn't anything so far as I can tell (and we've lived here for the last two-and-a-half years!) — but because it's where our car is, and to go on a road trip a car is generally a pretty useful thing to have.

But do you remember that part where I said, "And when does anything ever go according to plan?"

Well … things haven't quite gone according to plan, because our car is not actually running at the moment. News we were greeted with upon our arrival, following 30 hours in transit. Wonderful.

And so we have spent the last few days here, concocting a plan, recovering from jetlag, immobile due to our vehicular problems, me sick as a dog. Just like old times. I'm beginning to think Raleigh has it in for us. I suppose that's because of all those nasty things I said about her. Very well, I will take them all back if she will just give us back our car in full working order.

In the meantime, with plans made, hotels booked and so on, we have hired a car for the next three weeks to complete the first leg of our tour — Atlanta, the Blue Ridge Parkway, Philadelphia, and New York. And after that we will drive all the way back to Raleigh and (hopefully) in to the open arms of our Volvo, before turning right round and driving north again.

At least that's the plan.

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Image by Doug Mills/The New York Times.