Portland, Maine
One week ago. Jenine and I took the Miata up to Maine to celebrate our birthdays in earnest. It was our first vacation since our 1-year anniversary, so we were very excited to go. Driving up with the top down was lots of fun, and cranking up the AC in the hotel room was possibly even better.
Welcome to Portland, Maine. Lobsters, as far as the eye can see. I swear there were a thousand if there was one. We spent much of our time lighthouse hunting, zipping through quaint coastal towns around Cape Elizabeth's vicinity. Other activities include driving past exactly 2-kabillion ice cream shops and, even more exciting, strawberry picking! What better way to spend your 1st-world vacation then by living the life of a 3rd-world migrant worker?! Experience back pain, repetitive stress injury, and sun-stroke, all without ever leaving the comfort of the field! Seriously, watch out for the kids, though. On exiting the labor camp, I mean, the field, I noted to the staff that they should weigh the children before and after they "pick" their strawberries, and then charge the parent for the weight difference. It's only fair.
But seriously, it was all very beautiful and relaxing, and we ended the day with a bottle of cheap champagne and a soak in the hot tub. When Dan needs his soak, ol' Bessie and the kids will have to wait.
On Sunday we drove into Portland proper (our hotel was actually at the airport, you know, because we like airports so much) and got a taste of real Maine hospitality. First we went to the center of downtown Portland, expecting to find a thriving community populated with summer tourists and all the associated trinket shops and restaurants. Using a hotel lobby trifold, we steered towards a cool looking place called Portland Public Market, a massive indoor market built with huge pine cross-beams.
The pictures sure looked festive, but, arriving at the scene, we wondered if we had stepped into a post-apocalyptic world devoid of law and life itself. Upon parking our car, we noticed three kindly gentlemen "casing" us as we walked several blocks to the market. Next we were greeted at the stoplight by a mentally disturbed man who was probably the victim of jungle warfare. Crossing the street, we gave our respects to a young lady who's physique and palor had certainly seen better days. (I'll refrain from the derogatory term because it made me sad.) Lastly, Jenine spied a group of three people passed out in the street. We gave each other looks and walked right back to our car, happy not to have been jacked and to be moving on.
Finally we made our way down to the Wharf section of downtown Portland, and it was made immediately clear that this is where all the action was to be had. Six square blocks or so were packed solid with friendly locals, tourists from distant lands, and many qualitie eateries and nonsensical shoppes. The whole scene was very much granola, hippie, free spirited, and internationally cultured. (I tried to think of a word that described all those things, and never could.) At the end of the day, we made our way to Ri-Ra, an Irish pub where we shared a Black & Tan over fish and chips and corned beer with mashed pototoes. Oh, how I love the corned beef.
The trip was lots of fun and a great getaway. I even bought a cap.
No lobsters were harmed in the filming of this trip:
Welcome to Portland, Maine. Lobsters, as far as the eye can see. I swear there were a thousand if there was one. We spent much of our time lighthouse hunting, zipping through quaint coastal towns around Cape Elizabeth's vicinity. Other activities include driving past exactly 2-kabillion ice cream shops and, even more exciting, strawberry picking! What better way to spend your 1st-world vacation then by living the life of a 3rd-world migrant worker?! Experience back pain, repetitive stress injury, and sun-stroke, all without ever leaving the comfort of the field! Seriously, watch out for the kids, though. On exiting the labor camp, I mean, the field, I noted to the staff that they should weigh the children before and after they "pick" their strawberries, and then charge the parent for the weight difference. It's only fair.
But seriously, it was all very beautiful and relaxing, and we ended the day with a bottle of cheap champagne and a soak in the hot tub. When Dan needs his soak, ol' Bessie and the kids will have to wait.
On Sunday we drove into Portland proper (our hotel was actually at the airport, you know, because we like airports so much) and got a taste of real Maine hospitality. First we went to the center of downtown Portland, expecting to find a thriving community populated with summer tourists and all the associated trinket shops and restaurants. Using a hotel lobby trifold, we steered towards a cool looking place called Portland Public Market, a massive indoor market built with huge pine cross-beams.
The pictures sure looked festive, but, arriving at the scene, we wondered if we had stepped into a post-apocalyptic world devoid of law and life itself. Upon parking our car, we noticed three kindly gentlemen "casing" us as we walked several blocks to the market. Next we were greeted at the stoplight by a mentally disturbed man who was probably the victim of jungle warfare. Crossing the street, we gave our respects to a young lady who's physique and palor had certainly seen better days. (I'll refrain from the derogatory term because it made me sad.) Lastly, Jenine spied a group of three people passed out in the street. We gave each other looks and walked right back to our car, happy not to have been jacked and to be moving on.
Finally we made our way down to the Wharf section of downtown Portland, and it was made immediately clear that this is where all the action was to be had. Six square blocks or so were packed solid with friendly locals, tourists from distant lands, and many qualitie eateries and nonsensical shoppes. The whole scene was very much granola, hippie, free spirited, and internationally cultured. (I tried to think of a word that described all those things, and never could.) At the end of the day, we made our way to Ri-Ra, an Irish pub where we shared a Black & Tan over fish and chips and corned beer with mashed pototoes. Oh, how I love the corned beef.
The trip was lots of fun and a great getaway. I even bought a cap.
No lobsters were harmed in the filming of this trip:
posted by Leto at 12:52 PM
2 Comments:
Now you've got the Mainer blood in you. Glad you guys were able to enjoy -
Awwwww... Good to see the Miata is providing you with good memories! Looks lik a fun trip. :)
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