World's Weirdest Fourth Of July

Start with a Maine Potato Doughnut. That was weird enough for me, driving back to La Quinta after walking Portland with Cheyenne first thing in the morning. The Holy Donut - Portland ME.

Saw the shop, screeched to a halt, which wasn't such a bad thing to do as Portland was empty at eight am on Independence Day.

They weren't bad. The dough was thicker and more substantial than usual. I like sponge cake so that worked for me and the flavors (maple, pomegranate, cinnamon) ran through the entire doughnut. They looked normal!

The plan was to go north. Man proposes, God disposes. We got to Brunswick and it's impressive churches and so it was that the skies darkened, night came early and raindrops started.

The plan also called for an early diversion south off Highway One to visit the Harpswell Peninsula and check out the famed Maine Coastline. I have been told that if you stretched out the few hundred miles of coastline and straightened out all the indentations Maine would have more oceanfront than Florida. Fair enough but you still wouldn't have the climate. Maine waterfront in July. 65 degrees, drizzle and with the tide far out, lots of gelatinous unphotogenic mud.

Call me a pantywaist but I like 90 degrees, bright primary colors in my water and my sky, I like sunshine and big puffy clouds. Palms? Sure. Mud? Not so much. But in Maine they love their gloopy muck at the waterline.

 

While my wife went shopping at a pottery studio buried in the woods I took Cheyenne for a walk in the rain. Of course it was in the rain, does it ever stop raining in Maine? Not content with all the mud in the ocean Cheyenne went looking for a drinking trough in the mud and was completely successful. She came back with two pairs of natty black stockings. This is getting to be the theme of this trip.

The potter sold my wife a delightful mug for which Layne had just the right use, plus she told us about the perfect fish chowder for sale just up the road. Cheyenne and I were seeking shelter along the road when the car arrived to wisk us off to lunch.

These back roads are not waterfront at all. We might as well have been driving through the woods of Western North California for all the waterfront we could enjoy from the road.

 

 

Finally we found the Dolphin Marina and Restaurant and were not the least taken aback to see the tide was far out still.

Fog? Got that, in spades. This is July in Maine, after all.

Cheyenne was in Labrador Heaven. Winter in July increased her energy and some outrageous new smells kept her very busy. They call this seaweed? What is this..?

Don't get me wrong, there is beauty here and I wasn't cold in shirt sleeves but it sure is different. People came here to be by the water? What do they do? Swim and you get hypothermia; sail: ditto. Fish? In the fog? That's fun? Luckily it takes all kinds and if they weren't here they'd be clogging up Florida. They've got seaweed rotting on the beach here, just like the Keys:

Some burly Maine dude parked his four wheel drive next to our car, took one look at our tag and said: "You brought the Florida weather with you..!" Winter weather I said, "I love it!" He said, laughing deeply and shrugging the rain off his shirt and his beard.

 

The fish chowder was excellent with lots of fish, enough potatoes and a creamy broth that wasn't goopy. I liked it a lot at Dolphin Marina & Restaurant. Notice how in their advertising the sun is always shining. Whatever.

My wife was intrigued by the fish special, haddock so she ordered that to share with the chowder. I'd have had just the chowder but we ended up with what was essentially fish and chips, with no sign of anything Cajun which was supposed to be the flavor of the day. The batter was good, if not Cajun, the fish was flaky and the fries were average while the coleslaw was excellent and crispy fresh. All of it did not measure up to the delicious chowder, which let's remember was what the potter had recommended and it's what we associate with Maine in Winter/Summer.

But I'm nitpicking, I loved the sturdy real glass that my tea came in, my wife had a delicious organic sangria. Service was excellent and the views were full of fog across the sound. I'd go back. Preferably on a sunny day. They have those in Maine don't they? Not yesterday.

Yeah, Maine's pretty.

We got back on the highway and hit the city of Bath, named for the town in England near where I went yo school. There are, as far as I know, no Roman Baths here, but it was a pretty town with an impressive City Hall at the top of the hill.

Okay. That's it. Our coastal tour just got washed out. Call us wimps but it just got to be too much. Every time we got out of the car there was water falling from the sky, water underfoot, mud, and a cowering Labrador who hates the rain. Did you know Henry Wadsworth-Longfellow lived in Portland, and wrote some of his poetry there? Yup, except unlike Key West's Hemingway House you can't take pictures inside. Which is a pity because the poet's sister preserved the house as he lived in it and it's filled with furniture his family actually used. And because it's in Maine there are no slave quarters here. Nice.

Check it out, Highway One nothing like the Overseas Highway we know...

...and love! (Even under construction).

 

It's a great vacation, lots of adventures and exploration to come, abroad too I hope. But there' s no place like home.

 

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Phillip And Van's Boston

Phillip and Van lived in Key West for a while in a cottage in Old Town but it didn't take. Phillip worked in the schools and Van is a retired archivist and they missed their friends and their culture and their seasons Up North. They've been together 38 years moving around, buying and selling homes, not flipping but enjoying the challenge of making a space a home, getting bored and moving on. Van (L) is a native of Maine while Phillip (in the Provincetown t shirt) is from the Mid West, and they've been in Boston two years, which means its time to move on and they are eyeing a shift to Portland, Maine for a more laid back lifestyle. That would be move 28 which blows my mind, as I have just moved for the first time in a decade...

Cheyenne likes their decorating style and promptly made herself at home.

Their space is small but it's in the Beacon Hill neighborhood which is where the money lives. And they have a birds eye view of the riverside park where the Boston Pops were going to celebrate the Fourth in an open air concert. Hurricane Arthur made other plans and the last we heard the concert was supposed to take place last night to avoid the storm. We got out early as traffic was supposed to be a mess as preparations ramped up. Fourth of July is one of my favorite holidays but spending it on the road is a bit of a drag. I had hoped we might get to Canada and pretend nothing was happening, but New Brunswick is just too far away.

The boys love to walk and we took a couple of urban hikes enjoying the "Emerald Necklace" string of parks created by Frederick Law Olmsted and much revered by Van and Phillip. You can walk almost the entire way across the city in shady strip of manicured woodland. It's quite lovely.

Our destination was the Prudential building with an oddly named restaurant, the Top of the Hub, on the 52nd floor, far above the shopping mall below.

I never feel quite comfortable in these places especially when they are well attended like this one.

We ate absurdly well, a series of tapas style plates, calamari, mussels, risotto balls and hot dog sliders(!) washed down with cocktails. It was very decadent.

Then we strolled the top floor and checked the sights, the Emerald Necklace winding its way across the city, Fenway Park baseball field illuminated for the game being shown on the TV bar across the room, the offshore islands dotted by white sailboats in the sunset.

The next day our walk wound across the entire city, through the ancient streets on the hill, past John Kerry's home, which Van pointed out with glee, but it looked like a regular town home to me. We should all marry inherited wealth as he did. I checked out this cobblestone alley but nixed it - hard to get a scooter down that!

Another landmark where Steve McQueen shot the Thomas Crowne Affair...I am not much for movie locations, I feel they spoil the mystery, but Hollywood's choices validate places for lots of people.

A Key West chicken loose in Boston disfiguring a perfect street?

Coming down the hill we passed the statehouse. Massachusetts is unusual in that it's largest and most prominent city is also the state capital. However this is all we saw as they had a fence up all the way round to keep our democracy safe. I miss the good old days of brash self confidence instead of the modern cowering before threats by terrorists and nutters.

Boston is all bricks, steep hills and history. Somewhere past the financial district we barely noticed the place where Benjamin Franklin was baptized. I was drowning in stuff to see everywhere.

Public notices are quite polite especially considering this is a town where eye contact and public manners are unknown.

Above we see a vast shallow paddling pool and below adults sitting out on park benches, a popular passive pastime in this city that lives through brutal winters.

Costume people shake up the street scenes. Revolutionary Boston is a big deal in tourist areas. My favorite reality check, A Few Bloody Noses: The Realities and Mythologies of the American Revolution is probably a safer bet than the propagation of the palatable alternative reality put about for casual tourists.

Elizabeth Peabody had her business here and they still sell books in this place.

Unlike so many American cities Boston lives it's history, not with fanfare like New Orleans or reserve like Charleston, but simply as a daily fact of life. I like this attitude very much. Key West harps on the connection to Ernest Hemingway ad nauseam but Boston has an equivalent figure on each street corner it seems like. Too many to flaunt all of them all the time.

The financial district could be anywhere...

...but in the middle we find this modest, perfectly proportioned building, unprotected against terrorist attack. This is the Commonwealth's original state house. Built at a time when democracy in America meant free access to lawmakers. Happy day.

This ancient street we rushed down barely giving me time to snap a picture, never mind revel in, houses the oldest tavern in the US, still operating, and the pub where Revolutionary conspirators met. I wanted to pause and enjoy this smattering of the past still extant, able to recreate the sense of the time with a little imagination.

Our destination was more important than all that history crap: Regina's Pizzeria.

Best pizza ever the boys said. We'll see.

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