PORTLAND, Maine

Our visit to Portland was mainly a logistical convenience. Free Amtrak tickets and very economical rental car out of Portland made for a pleasant way to skip the NY and Boston traffic. Since we'd been on a long-weekend in Portland a few years ago we knew we didn't want to stop in for long. On our last trip we stayed at an Inn a mile and a half from the Old Port section and as we began our ascent home one night I saw the entrance of a lovely Inn on Milk street and said, "Next time we come to Portland we're staying there." So we did! The Portland Regency - a spa hotel renovated in an old Armory - is two blocks from Commercial Street (the waterfront) and centrally located in the Old Port section which is filled with shops, restaurants and cobblestone streets. We didn't venture beyond a five block radius.

Prior to our trip, Downeast Magazine featured Portland as a culinary destination so we tore out the pages and planned to treat our palates. But after two weeks of hiking and having only packed two pair of jeans, we didn't feel quite presentable for a fine meal. So we circled 'round the same establishments we'd enjoyed on our last trip. 

Gilbert's has the best chowdah (which I haven't actually tried) and packs in tourists and townies so we started there. Though our server said, "Don't even try to come here in summer. You can't get in." Then we popped over to The Standard Baking Company to pick up treats for the next morning's breakfast. Next was J's Oysters for dinner. This place is a true dive but the oysters are $12 for a baker's dozen. We started with two dozen then finished off with a pot of steamers. Margaret, our server, invited us back in February when the oysters are free at Happy Hour. Hmmm. (I recently read an article suggesting vegans partake in oysters because the food oysters eat is so low on the food chain eating them is akin to eating a vegetable.)

The last - and most entertaining - stop on our Portland grazing tour was The Chocolate Bar Cafe which is located in an alleyway lined with brick buildings now converted to restaurants. There were only a few patrons so we made fast friends and actually were delighted to see the best art exhibit of our Maine trip - Absinthe Spoons. The designs were beautifully crafted and Adam, one of the artisans, stopped in so we had him model his spoon for us.

Portland has a small-town feel to it and the people are warm and welcoming. The waterfront has slowly been a little gentrified but for the most part it retains the raw, roughness of an old-style port city. The Casco Bay Ferry line shuttles students and commuters on multiple-daily trips across to six nearby Islands. On our last trip we visited Peaks Island (fun and tourist friendly) and Great Chebeague Island (entirely residential - we walked five miles before finding the one place open for lunch). This area of Maine is nice but it doesn't have the dramatic cliffs we encountered farther north. Our stop in Portland served as a good transition point from solitude to city-life.

STONINGTON, Maine

We've found the perfect room! With a full-on view of Stonington Harbor, a deck and a fireplace. I haven't wanted to step foot in the village and have logged a couple hundred pages in Middlesex (an excellent read). This morning Benedicta set out on two treks: First - exploring Main Street to the right; Second - exploring Main Street to the left. We've actually found the perfect way to enjoy all the little galleries together - I find a shady spot to read and she makes the rounds and then tells me about the art and conversation over lunch.

The Harbor Cafe, two doors down, is the only restaurant open for dinner this week so last night (Monday) we headed over at 5pm expecting to be the first to arrive. Wrong! Almost every table was filled and the open ones all had reserved signs. Perplexed, we hovered around the entrance until a waitress, surprised that we'd shown up without a reservation, offered us a small table next to the specials board. Knowing there were no dining alternatives I told her we wanted to make a reservation for Tuesday night. "Okay, but you don't need a reservation for tomorrow night," she replied. So, you need a reservation for Monday but not Tuesday?? And this is no fine restaurant, just a corner cafe. Befuddled, but happy to know we had a guaranteed seat on Tuesday, we glanced at the specials. Monday - Two-for-One Night! Well, why didn't someone tell us? It was as if we'd stumbled into their secret supper and they didn't want to share the good news.

In addition to reading in front of a fire to the sound of the tide and the hum of fishing boats returning to the harbor, today brought one of my very, very favorite adventures. We took Miss Lizzie - the mailboat - across to Isle au Haut. It wasn't the trip I've dreamed of - a couple nights on the Isle at the only Inn (with a whopping four rooms) - because, you guessed it, we're too early in the season. It wasn't even the alternative trip of my dreams - a day hike through the Acadia trails - because ... yep, too early for the daytripper boats that stop at Duck Harbor. From the town landing it's a 4 mile far-from-flat walk just to get to the park trailheads. But it was a glorious 80-degree afternoon so we donned our fleeces and rain jackets and climbed aboard for the round-trip mailboat along with some Islanders returning from mainland shopping excursions. I was in heaven ... with the wind in my face and freezing waves crashing over the bow and into my hair. Upon our arrival, the captain gave me and the photographer from Fodor's permission to dash ashore while they unloaded so we could grab a few pictures before jumping back aboard for the return crossing. So, I came, I saw, I will find my way back!

 

ACADIA NATIONAL PARK, Maine

For the past three days we've been in Acadia National Park hiking shore, mountain, stream, cliffside, creekbed, lakeside, woodland and carriage trails with names like Schoodic Head, Beech Mountain, Jordan Pond and Cadillac Mountain. Atop Schoodic Mountain we gazed at a panorama of islands and along the Bar Harbor Shore Path we peeked at Summer Cottages (i.e. mansions) along Frenchman's Cove. The weather has been picture-postcard-perfect, the masses don't arrive until next weekend, and in Bar Harbor the restaurants are plentiful and open and all walkable from our hotel. It's about as good as it gets in an Acadia vacation.

Acadia National Park was cobbled together from land donations from the wealthy who had already bought up this delicious slice of the Atlantic Seaboard. While amazing in its splendor, I do resent (subconsciously and only a wee bit) the small settlements and outcroppings of summer retreats all coded with "Private Drive." On this trip we got beyond the main section of the park on the Park Loop Drive and scouted out some of the off-track patches. Schoodic Point (on a completely separate peninsula proved a splendid stop for a picnic lunch) and tomorrow we'll take the boat out to Isle au Haut which gets only 7000 visitors a year (of the nearly 3 million that visit Acadia).

EASTPORT, Maine

It's raining in Eastport today so I'm writing to the metronomic tune of the fog horn blast. It's soothing and reassuring to know there's a beacon of guidance for fishermen yet to return from harvesting their traps. Life moves with the rhythm of the tides, the winds and the rains out here. And fortunately for us we moved in mostly sun this week.

Yesterday we set our schedule to the tides. All the bays and peninsula's in this area are fed by the Bay of Fundy making 28 foot drops and rises a twice daily experience. In the morning we hiked the trails of Shackford Head State Park, just outside of town. It's a 90-acre peninsula so fairly easy to hike all the trails in a morning. We hit the cove at low tide so had plenty of time to explore the cliffs and caves. The silence was sliced only by the appearance of two bald eagles. One flew to it's nest and the other to a high branch on the shore. It was an awesome experience to watch them soar the length of the cove, multiple times, with barely a flap of their wings.

The afternoon trek was geared toward high tide. We drove over to Reversing Falls Park which is off an obscure country road with only one handmade sign that doesn't appear until you near the gravel tracks leading to the end of the peninsula. When we arrived about an hour before high tide the water converged from three separate estuaries creating a rapids and a whirlpool the size of a city block. The water crashed haphazardly along the banks and as the tide rises one foot every ten minutes we regularly relocated to higher ground. As the tide began to recede a silence prevailed and the water took on a full stillness. We found it so magical we sat for 2 1/2 hours watching the water change shape. About two hours in we were treated to our second set of bald eagles enjoying a mid-afternoon glide. And then, amazingly, a seal bobbed it's head up and swept upstream with the outgoing tide. (Seals are a regular sight here in August but May is very early to see one.)

Much of our day-planning is centered not on the tides, but on the opening hours of the area restaurants. The fish place on Sea Street (with no apparent name and located at the end of an unmarked dirt road beneath Water Street) is our favorite. There are picnic tables outside but no indoor dining. Today we got take-out and drove to the breakwater and lunched in the car with the locals. Rosie's Hot Dogs sits at the entrance to the breakwater dock and is a tiny outbuilding that serves up dozens of hot dogs at lunch hour. The Chowder House doesn't open until Friday so we won't be able to try that local favorite. Fortunately our little apartment at the Todd House, circa 1775, has a kitchenette so we've had most of our dinners in. And we're too early in the season for the Breakfast part of the B&B (which is fine with me as I have an aversion to B&B breakfast chatter) so we've breakfasted in. Sunrise comes early here as we're in the Easternmost city in the U.S. I've been getting up at 4am, watching the spectacular sunrises, then tucking back into bed.

Not our favorite restaurant but our favorite experience was the Rose Garden Cafe. We wandered in on our first morning and found scraps of paper with menu items on a music stand but not a sole in sight. After a crescendo of "Hellos" Linda appeared to assure us lunch was available. The Rose Garden is a creation in progress in an old Lumber Mill. Linda and Al envision installing artist studio lofts around the perimeter of the upper level. In the meantime, Linda rides her bicycle around the artspace/gallery/restaurant and presides over the only weekend entertainment in town. On the Saturday night we turned up the band played for babies to nonagenarian's. The musicians are, well, not quite contemporary. As we listened Benedicta commented (a little too loudly), "I feel like I'm in a time warp." The retiree at the next table turned to his wife and said (a little too loudly), "She said it's like a time warp but around here it's every Saturday night."

Tomorrow is our last day in Eastport so we'll be stopping in for lobster rolls on Sea Street. Then we'll seek out another trail to traverse that will undoubtedly end at the water's edge. Meanwhile I'm going to watch the tide roll out of Passamaquoddy Bay and hope to glimpse our little fox running through the yard on his usual 7pm schedule, as the foghorn continues it's mournful cries.