Aloha MM's,
Believe it or not—we are
still in New England! After my definitive decision got
neatly side swiped the other day—we headed into North Maine.
And it hasn't been half bad! It's been a different F word to the one I wanted
to use the other day. It's been well... FUN.
Maine
IS different to the rest of New England,
it almost stands alone energetically and people wise. They are very
proud to be Mainers. And the number of places that use the Maine-ly Maine
is interesting. They're still incredibly gruff but to be honest, I've never
met ANYONE from Maine who
isn't. I like the 'say it like it is' with Mainers, but the gruffness and
abruptness gives you a jolt every so often. We have seen another couple
of people grimace at the New Englanders and we know for sure, we are not
alone in this assessment of them.
Here's the worst part—we've even had a few New Englanders tell us how stand offish and gruff
the New Englanders are! LOL Good grief! A real selling point for
the travel brochures. Come and meet the tough, gruff, stand-offish rude
New Englanders—experience a unique take on life and living... Er...yes...
It makes me wonder why they
are so universally like this? Harsh horrible winters? That theory goes down
the drain when you think about the Mid-Westerners. So, that's out. A left
over vestige of Pommy background? They don't call the English 'Whinging
Poms' for nothing Down Under. :-) Just the way Yankees are? Perhaps they are
like the lobsters. Hard shells, soft centers, but watch out for the nippers!
On some level, we just start to deal with it as part of the 'New
England' experience.
The other thing that IS the New
England experience here is the lobster.
It is big business here and
they are EVERYWHERE. 50 million pounds of these guys go out of Maine
every year. And every place on the coast has a Lobster Pound. Or usually
several lobster pounds. This is the name for a place, that anywhere else,
you'd probably call a 'lobster shack.' It originally came from the places
that held lobsters in big salt water tanks or enclosed sea
areas ready to be sold when the demand called for them. Once upon a
time, lobster was seen as a poor mans food. Prisoners got it 'ad nauseum' and
up until the 1880's it was used for bait. Oysters in Britain
were also thought to be a working class food. Now a much prized shellfish all
over the world.
And like the oysters, Aaron
also loves the lobster. But we eat so much of it, even Aaron gets lobstered
out. An unheard of occurence in life! Aaron will usually eat lobster until he
pops. We have a fridge magnet that says—Maine Lobster—Breakfast, lunch
and dinner. They aren't kidding.
So from the moment we hit Maine
(and in the end, we were glad we stayed) we eat lobster at just about every
opportunity. Leo Ray Jnr has also become an aficionado—much to our
surprise. Mr Fusspot baby himself.
Our first night in Maine,
we stayed at a pretty wee RV park and we trotted down the road for our
lobster dinner. There were no tables available on a TUESDAY night, very
popular. So we get take out instead. Aaron of course has the lobster! I
have the clam chowda as they say here, which is nice and traditional with a
cream base and potato cubes in it but I have had so much lobster bisque, it's
hard to really rave about the chowder. I have become so enarmoured with
lobster bisque in our travels and strangely enough—this is the ONE thing,
we don't see on the menu's here. Go figure?
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| Leo Ray Jr—Hurry up Daddy, I'm waiting... |
I also have the scallops
which are lovely and sweet and juicy. Leo Ray Jnr helps his dad eat the
lobster as well as scallops from mum. He eagerly stands on the couch, waiting
for us to cool some pieces off for him. He loves the scallops but the LOVES
the lobster even more. Gourmet cat. His dad kindly shares some with him,
which he inhales. Leo is such a picky eater, that watching him wolf down this
food is amazing.
The next night, I had a
small chunk of lobster that I was going to break up for him and he took
it out of my hand before I had a chance and munched it up himself! Amazing.
Even with shrimp, Mr Fusspot child usually has to have it broken into
tiny bits. But chew, chew, chew...yum, yum, yummmmmm. More mum and dad.
We've told him that now we
are not in Maine—that's the
end of the lobster fest. But he looks at us slitty eyed, like we are telling
huge fibs and just depriving him of his god given right for the fun of it. Of
course, that IS our job as parents. All children know that parents are just
an evil conspiracy plot against them, designed to thwart their every move and
deprive them of lifes good things, like endless sweets, and lobster bits!
He's not keen on anything
else but the scallops and lobster, so when Aaron has the mussels—they are
safe from the wee furry paws and sharp pointy teeth of Mr Ray.
The mussels here are tiny
wee things compared to New Zealands big green lipped mussels but still super
tasty. Aaron had one lot simply steamed. You don't get much fancy stuff with
seafood here. It's all pretty much au naturale. Often served with drawn
butter, which we find has a peculiar taste to it. The mussels are tiny, but
you get zillions of them. There must have been about 50 on the plate
at the Trenton lobster
pound, up near Bar Harbor. The next day, he had
them again, but smoked...so good. Like Leo, I have never seen Aaron eat
anything so fast! Cor!
After making our decision to
go north to Bar Harbor, we set off in good spirits. We
stop at the Maine diner and
have the quickest service in history. It's hopping! I have the cod cake
Benedict and it's delicious. I could have eaten it several times over. Yum!!!
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| Cod Cake Benedict—my god, this was good!!! |
We then wind our way up to Bar
Harbor along the coastline. I am determined to see some of the Maine
coastline. We stop at a pretty wee town called Camden.
So many English names here. The town and harbor are really pretty. The harbor
is a busy one, dotted with yachts and fishing boats, and the big rigged
schooners we see a lot of here. We saw one out sailing with 4 sails unfurled.
Quite glorious to see. There is an odd wee waterfall that comes from the
water that flows under the buildings in the town—it's quiet odd. We can't
quite work out where the water comes from. A lake? A stream? A spring? But it
creates a pretty vista into the harbor.
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| The wee sea town of Camden |
We leave there and keep
going north. Finally arriving at Trenton, ME.
This is not far from Bar Harbor and we stay here, so
we can take a bi-plane ride the next day. We are almost right next to the
airfield. We see a cute wee lobster pound place and decide to pull in for
tea. This is the Trenton
lobster pound AND Texas BBQ place! What a combination...but omigod, a great
one. We eat here 3 times—it's soooo good. And it's a cute wee place.
Lobster buoys on the wall, outdoor tables, the big outdoor boilers going flat
tack, the BBQ cranked up. The lobster buoys are so pretty. All different
colors, they are attached to the rectangular lobster baskets so
they are easy to find and identify. Each fisherman has his own set of
colors.
We get talking to the owners
Jeff and Dawn, who are Texans and live wire interesting people. They come up
in the summer from Texas and
run this stand, bringing their teenage girls with them and giving them a good
experience, working with mum and dad. I used to work for my dad when I was
younger in his fish and chip shop. I loved this. I liked the work and I liked
working with my dad. It was fun. I hope the girls can look back and feel the
same way I do (probably when they are much older :-) ) but it's a great thing
to be doing with theme—despite what they probably think now. LOL.
We decide to sample
everything! Aaron has the lobster—of course. And some plain steamed
mussels. I have the ribs and some scallops. Everything is super fresh and
made on the premises. They are cooking the lobster in authentic wood fired
boilers, like big pots set in concrete with wooden lids on them. The smell
from the smoker and BBQ and boilers is intoxicating. You could eat the smell
alone.
Jeff and Dawn lease this
from a friend of theirs and have no experience with restaurants but are doing
a fantastic job. The ribs are too die for... Incredibly tender, fall off the
bone and the FLAVOUR...wowww...I get a piece of homemade blueberry pie to
take home—packed full of one of Maines
other big crops—blueberries! We will come back to this place!
We settle into our RV Park.
A nice one on the ocean. About 1.30
in the morning we are woken up by the most intense
thunderstorm we have ever been in! It's kind of scary actually. Here we are
in a steel tube hooked up to electricity. Oh yay! On the upside, I guess
we have rubber tyres but still...it's intense. It's sits right over us for
about 1/2 an hour. What a racket! And the lightening is so bright, we can't
even sit and watch it. Leo, surprisingly, is fairly calm and is sitting up
the top in his day bed? Perhaps being on the road for 6 weeks in a camper has
inured him to anything life throws at him. Aaron says helpful things like—the camper two sites over is bigger than us—they'll make a better target.
Helpful...
It finally passes over—thank god, and we fall wearily back to sleep.
The next day looks a bit
hazy from the storm and I have a chat to the weather gods because we are
supposed to be flying that morning. The decision is taken out of our hands
though, as they ring up and ask us if we want to fly later in the day or
tomorrow. We decide on tomorrow morning instead. And decide that we'll get in
touch with nature for the day—do the great outdoors thing.
So, we hire a convertible
Mustang. Lots of fresh air and scenery without walking. This is the
Americana Kitsch and Culture tour after all. An American Mustang fits in
nicely. It's a good justification and we giggle and chortle over this.
And it's a lot of fun. The weather gods got the weather organized. It's not
too hot or too cold. We drive all over the Peninsulas
with the top down.
And it's very nice but not
very exciting. We drive all the way to the end of the Penobscot
Peninsula to see the quaint wee
fishing village of Stonnington
and it IS cute but would be cuter with some water in the harbor! Oh well, the
drive has been nice. We then go back and stop at our favorite lobster pound
and see Jeff for lunch.
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| The different colored buoys or markers, let the lobster fisherman know which lobster pots belong to them under the water |
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| The cute wee village of Stonnington |
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| There are always stacks of lobster baskets everywhere |
Today we try the Smoked
Salmon Spread—oh boy... Sooo good. I have the ribs AGAIN—they are wow.
And Aaron has ribs and tries the smoked mussels this time. He inhales
them, they are sooo good. We waddle out of there and head for the Bar
Harbor area and the Peninsula it's on.
Again, nice but not super exciting. Despite this—we are glad we came. We
are doing much better. Bar Harbor, like the rest of Maine
is busy. Everywhere in Maine is
busy!
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| God, this salmon spread was fabulous. Yummmm |
I have no idea why...but Maine
for reasons we can't figure out is BUSY. Only 320,000 people in the whole
state and no matter what roads we go on—it's busy with traffic. And the
road works! Just about every road in Maine
is being worked on. I know that when you get harsh snow laden winters—the
spring and summer are your only chance to repair the roads but the road works
were almost an integral part of most towns.
I can't work out where all
these people are coming from. It seems slightly bizarre. We drive over the
whole island but are not enthused enough to stop in and see the Arcadia
National Park. We are not
'hikers.' We are armchair or car seat comfort people. In saying this, we walk
2 miles in New
Hampshire the next day, but this is the exception
to the rule.
We do stop and pop down to
see one of the tiny lighthouses dotted all over Maine.
Most of them are not very big but are important in the craggy Maine
coast and islands. A lot of them are automatic now but some are still
manned/womanned and are part of the Coast Guard.
We go and see the wee
lighthouse, with it's red light. There is still someone living in the Coast
Guard house there and there is a notice to not peer in the windows or walk on
the grass. It must be awful living there, with people constantly trooping
around your yard and the constant red light flash of the lighthouse. It must
be like living in a red light district without the happy ending. Not far off
shore, there are tall buoys, which make music as they ring and clang, warning
sailors in the fog that they are nearing land. It's a nice end to the day and
we put on our coats and turn up the heat and drive back with top down still.
:-)
I tell the weather gods, no
storms tonight. Take them somewhere else and they are just starting on the Peninsula
as we come back. We get a bit of rain, but it is a perfect flying day the
next day.
We take the rental car back
and get dropped just up the road at the bi-plane place. They are flying a Waco
open cockpit and also a Harvard! They take people up for flights in both of
them. Our pilot is Dave from Arizona
and he reminds me of every bi-plane pilot I have ever flown with. They are a
certain breed of people and they're always affable and friendly and have this
mellowness which I can't define. The great thing about this Waco,
is that Aaron and I can both fly side by side in the front cockpit. It's a
bit of a squeeze, if we were any chubbier, we wouldn't fit, but we get into
our harness and clamp on our headphones.
And off we go...
I love open cockpit. There
is no sensation like it in the world. It is my favorite way to fly. Very slow
flight, the open cockpit, wind in your face, bugs in your teeth, flying
by stick—you fly in your body in one of these. It's freedom for
me. I love these things.
They are a taildragger, so
you can't see over the cowling, until you can get some speed up and can push
the stick forward slightly to bring the tail up. But not too far forward—or
you'll plough into the tarmac nose first. And that's always embarrassing.
There's an art to flying a taildragger. One I never really mastered super
well. Once you have the speed right, down the runway, you very gently
pull the stick back and the next thing you know, you are very gently
lifting into the air. There's no strong vertical climb, just a gentle waft
into the air. Ohhhhh...so fabulous!
We fly at 2000 feet at 100 mph. Aaron finds it
disconcerting because you feel like you're not flying at all sometimes.
Nothing bothers me in a bi-plane. They are the ultimate way to fly for me.
We fly over the Bar
Harbor Peninsula
and islands. Wee dotted lighthouses everywhere and tiny islands. Some with
houses on them, fed by generators and mountain fresh water lakes. What a way
to live. The kids get on the school boat everyday to go to school. It must
get mundane when you do it all the time, but still more fun than a big yellow
bus. You can see the sandbars from on high. And you can see that with some of
them, at low tide, you'd be able to walk across to another island on a very
narrow wedge of sand. A fascinating birdseye view of the world.
We fly around for about 45
minutes and return to earth with a gentle Uukk, uukk on the runway. We weave
back to the 'ramp'—a bit of grass near the flight hut. You can't see much
with the backward lean of the taildragger, so you have to weave as you taxi
to see where you're going. We spin around to face out for the next flight and
the engine is slowly shut down... What a sound they make. Music to my ears.
Wow...that was fun! Aaron
loves it too. He says he felt a bit vulnerable in it with the slow flight and
open cockpit. Whereas I feel ultimately safe and sound in one of these and am
fascinated by how he feels. My sister thinks I'm nuts flying small planes,
but she rock climbs! Not something I'd do in a million years.
At the end of the day, you
have to do what FEELS right for YOU. What makes you happy, what makes you
feel good. Never mind what other people think is a good idea. Say the F
word, make it a decision on life! Do what is Fun and Fabulous and Fascinating for
YOU.
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| Yes, we had to go back to Jeff and Dawns place for one last lunch. Fish and chips, with ribs. So delicious!!! |
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