The fall foliage in New England is legendary and inordinately pretty. Honey-roast brown and scarlet red leaves weigh down elderly boughs and blanket the ground like an old and familiar quilt. The little village of Woodstock in rural Vermont is similarly attractive in a quaint washed and scrubbed way and nestles in a shallow valley surrounded by multi-coloured maple trees. At the beginning of October, when the outrageous botanical display is at its height, it's the epitome of small town America from the dainty white-spired churches, clean-cut houses and a village green to its outlying horse farms, red-roofed barns and covered bridges.

On a signboard labelled 'The Woodstock Town Crier' alongside the village green notices chalked up daily announce local events, entertainments and visitor tours. Quiet walks in the surrounding countryside are silent adventures, footfalls muffled by the soft bed of dying leaves and conversations stilted by lungfuls of crisp, peaty air. For all its homeliness the village of Woodstock feels somewhat engineered and a little voice in the back of your head keeps telling you to wipe your feet and stand up straight. For all that it's a pleasant diversion and a taster for the state as a whole.

As you head up state you can check out the home of horror author Stephen King and the largest statue of Paul Bunyan in the world both of which can be found in Bangor.