CUTLER, Maine

Thankfully Rocky and Ellen's granddaughter was cooing in the kitchen when we arrived for our 8:30 breakfast appointment. Babies have an amazing way of warming up an atmosphere. Rocky was especially chatty this morning but surprisingly dour about the vacationer's options in these parts. Fortunately I'd done my usual pre-trip homework and had noted a slice of info about a trail near Cutler. Rocky conferred that this one was breathtaking and thankfully informed us the trailhead was about three miles past Cutler with a sign that simply said, "Cutler Management." Otherwise, we might still be driving around in search of the Bold Coast Trail.

We parked and availed ourselves of the outhouse with a door that locked from the outside but not from the inside, allowing a good view of on-coming traffic. It's black fly season here in Maine so when we were swarmed with insects in the parking lot we decided to spray ourselves with Off before setting forth on an hour-long woodland hike over rocky terrain teeming with exposed tree roots before reaching our destination on the Bold Coast. The views from our first encounter with the sea were so spectacular we just sat on a rock ledge for about 45 minutes and watched the waves crash in as a lone lobsterman checked his traps. Next time we'll pack a lunch and wander farther along the cliffside trail. As we re-traversed the forest we came across the only other humans we encountered on our hike. "Do you want to turn back?" the man said to the woman before they heard us coming. We encouraged them to forge ahead and have a feeling the wife would have preferred we hadn't fortuitously crossed her path.

We decided to take a little detour to Lubec for lunch as the one restaurant in the darling fishing village of Cutler closed up last year. There were several cars parked at the Village Cafe so we ventured in. As we read the menu a heated discussion over the spelling of Fettucini ensued. When I read the consensus spelling decision on the specials board - Fettachine - I decided I must get involved. They were a bit perplexed that my spelling could actually be pronounced Fettachine but went with my suggestion anyway.

I ordered the scallops and was delighted with the melt-in-your-mouth flavor. Benedicta had the Haddock and would have been fine had she not insisted on having it baked. It came out bland and dry. It's a good thing we didn't come up here for the food. They don't seem to have much culinary skill other than boiling a lobster or throwing a breaded fish in the fryer. Fortunately, we were right down the road from Monica's. She has the perfect recipe for making up for any bad meal. Benedicta settled on the sea urchins (bringing our total two-day chocolate bill to $91 - "but some is for gifts, we promise") and started munching on them immediately.

As we continued on our way to Eastport a beautiful lake, fresh and blue with not a dot of architecture on the circumference appeared beside us. It had the cold, clear, deep look of a mountain lake and I couldn't resist stopping the car for another stroll. It's like that up here. There's water everywhere. And it's all serene and silent and inviting us to stay awhile. Right now we're in our second floor apartment transfixed on the views of Passamaquoddy Bay. More on that later ...