Staten Island (I did it so you don't have to...)

The title says it all. Whilst my wee blonde friend ("WBF") was here, we decided to do something touristy and catch the Staten Island ferry, maybe have some lunch, and come back over. Two free trips past Libby has to be worth it if nothing else, and you can't be too much of a Manhattan-ite. I pooh-poohed all the people who recommended that getting off was not the best idea. The politest comment went along the lines of "we were disappointed" and just got worse. But I was sure we knew better, and were feeling quite intrepid. The trip over was fine (apart from my waiting 25 minutes for the right subway to finally arrive, dratted lack of indicator boards!). Was quite chilly, but we bravely stood at the bow of the ferry, doing our best impersonation of ship figureheads on the prow, hair flowing in the rather cold but bracing wind.
We made a pot-luck decision to go to old Richmond Town. My NFT book recommended a restaurant there, and so it was as good as anywhere - the port area was not exactly inspiring. So, we wandered around outside looking for a taxi. First problem - no taxis.
Headed back inside to check the bus routes, definitely feeling intrepid at this point. Discovered the 76 bus went where we wanted. So, back outside and on to the bus. I used my metrocard, but WBF only had notes, so I scrounged around to find change for her fare (coins only). The bus ride was interminable and very uncomfortable, but we were still a little optimistic not to mention hungry, and by this time still had the spirit of Livingstone coursing in our veins. I checked my guide book hoping something out the window would be familiar, and WBF looked out the window, mentioning at intervals how she liked being somewhere with no plans or idea where she was.
Luckily, I found the right stop, and we got off in a strange place, surrounded by obviously mismatched historical houses. Apparently the big idea on Staten was to MOVE all the historical houses into one area of the island, huddled together forlornly in fields and trees. Not sure if the houses wanted to be moved, or if a bulldozer just sidled up at 2am and started taking out the supports from under people when they were sleeping, but in any case, here they all were. This being America, there are no pavements, so I guess you are supposed to drive 50m from one house to the next and just have a wander around the area. There are apparently hundreds of houses. Every now and then we could spy some people in "period costume" which looked about as authentic as polyester could, showing reluctant families around. But more importantly, the recommended restaurant (the Parsonage), was there in front of us - although quite obviously closed. It could not have looked more closed without some broken windows and cobwebs! Hmmm. We checked with the car valet for the wedding that was occupying the grounds of the restaurant if there was anywhere else nearby. After us repeating for the 5th time that NO we did NOT have a car (he was completely incredulous), he confirmed what we had already guessed - that there was nothing nearby that could offer any sustenance. So we picked our way along the overgrown area where a pavement would have been anywhere else in the roas, scuttling off the road as large pickup trucks sprayed gravel at us, and trundled back to the bus stop where we stood munching on my small bag of pistachios, waiting for our chariot to return us to the ferry terminal. Finally the bus came (we saw the same driver on the way back), we gratefully got on and chugged back to the terminal. The people on the bus seemed a bit surprised to see us. I suppose we were dressed neatly, with our sunglasses and non-fuzzy hair, and they were not used to seeing people out of basketball gear on the bus, but still... We rushed back on to the ferry rather grumpily, and headed back to Manhattan 3 hours later, still hungry!
So the moral is - take the ferry, but don't get off!!