Crossing these disputed straits proved easy enough for us, though, as we drove on to the car ferry from Eceabat.
South Egremont, reached from Salisbury at Connecticut's northwest corner, is as tiny as New England villages come, and Egremont Inn, whose white clapboard facade could do with a paint spruce-up, is in the spirit of the village (though we were surprised as we drove within a mile of the inn to pass a llama and alpaca farm).
For weeks, "we drove Jay crazy, even though he would never say it," Mr. Adanalian said.
As soon as we drove through its gates, though, shills descended on us, shouting in Kiswahili.
From Sonic Boom we head to the similarly healthy Soundscapes, Rotate This, and Planet of Sound, though when we drive out to the east to find Rick's Emporium, a secondhand CD shop Damian used to go to when he was younger, we find a doughnut store standing in its place.
Mostly though, we would just drive around in my Chevy van, seeking, as she used to put it, "the inner state of an exalted self-esteem".
With a photo album of your ex-roommate dancing at a raucous party more in your face than paparazzi images of Kim Kardashian's post-baby body, though, "we may be driven to hate-read our own friends, if they all have their own carefully edited media channels pushing content onto our smartphones," he said.
We drive though some nearby villages in the evening.
After the group moves on, we drive back though near-darkness without headlights.
Sometimes though we will drive into the city centre for a Nando's and a film at the Odeon.
