Dragging ourselves away from the heights of Bradbury Mountain (all 560 feet of it!) we set off the next morning, Sunday, for the drive up to Maine.  We had rented a cottage on the shore near Acadia National Park with Donna and Gerry who were coming over to see us and then take a road trip around New England.

We drove up along US highway 1, a road we have previously driven down in Florida. The road runs all the way along the eastern coastline from Key West, where we took our photo under the Mile 0 marker, up to the border with Canada in Maine.  Along the Maine coast it is much more rugged and fortunately, unlike poor Key West, not being pummelled by hurricane Irma.  We drove along through pretty towns populated with well-maintained wooden houses, we think the weather keeps people from dumping all their crap on their front lawns as in the states down the Mississippi.  i.e. it rains and snows (a lot) meaning possessions will quickly decay unlike in the sunnier states where people can use their outdoors as additional storage space.

Our rental cottage is called ‘Glory Be’ and was on a peninsula called Newbury Neck with a single road down it with sea views from the driver’s window all the way down.  The cottage was in a glorious location with a deck that overlooked part of Acadia National Park with an inlet of the Atlantic between us.  The cottage was obviously once the family vacation home and while it had all mod cons, they hadn’t whittled down their possessions a great deal since deciding to let it, e.g. there was an overabundance of old wooden spoons and an eclectic collection of books; paperback novels (think Jeffrey Archer); literary novels (Vikram Seth); plays (Harvard Complete Shakespeare); and lots of technical books on sailing and boating.  Nonetheless we couldn’t have chosen a better place for its views and comfort, we all spent a large amount of time on the deck watching the water and also went kayaking and bicycling up and down the road.

One additional feature of the house was a concrete tennis court which had cracks, some an inch wide, running through it so it would be hazardous to play without constantly checking you weren’t going to fall over and plant your face on the ground.  One benefit was we could park Reg on the tarmac outside the court (it would have been fun to put him on the court but I doubt the owners would appreciate it!).

Donna and Gerry arrived a couple of hours after us and it was great to see them, plus the two litres of gin they brought with them.  Little time was wasted cracking open the bottle of Hendriks and a thorough catching up ensued, interspersed with a stir fry.

Monday was a chilled day when we went off grocery shopping, including a trip to the funky Blue Hills Wine Shop, and D&G hired a two-person kayak and bikes.  We all cycled up to the local lobster shack for dinner, where we found to great dismay they were a bring your own restaurant and we didn’t fancy the return 40-minute trip to bring back booze.  We stayed for the soft-shell lobster, which are when the lobsters have recently shed their previous shells and are still growing into their new ones.  The claw meat from one resembled a very small hand (no names but someone sprung to mind!) and we also had the Mac ‘n Lobster. This is only prepared when granny (who recently passed on the shack to her grandson) can be bothered to cook it and bring it across the road to be served.  While the food was OK, it would have been vastly improved with a nice bottle of Sancerre.  The location was beautiful however as the shack has a pier that runs out into the little harbour at the top of Newbury Neck and we could watch activity on the water as the sun dropped below the horizon.  This, of course, meant we had to cycle back in the dark with only two sets of lights and Gerry’s head torch.  We all returned safely, possibly another outcome of not having any drinks with us over dinner!

The next day dawned beautifully again and we decided to go kayaking.  Horrified to find that B1 was still suffering from the puncture picked up on a boat ramp in California so he was out of commission.  Gerry kindly abdicated his position in the rented kayak and Donna and I set off with Alex as our solo wingman out onto the ocean, which was incredibly still with barely a wave to lap over the exposed rocks at low tide.  We paddled south past beautiful houses along the shore only getting slightly wet from the water on the paddles.

After the kayaking and breakfast, we drove into Acadia National Park which is on Mount Desert Island, so called for the ‘bald’ mountains spotted by an early French explorer.  While the mountain tops are empty of trees their lower slopes and the valleys surrounding them are covered in forests as far as the eye can see.  Acadia was created from the donations of rich Americans (this time the Rockefellers) to the state of land they had bought for their summer vacation homes.  It is one of the most beautiful places we’ve been, completely different again with its rocky shoreline, barrier islands, the only fjord in the lower 48 states, and forests.  We also had marvellous weather which made the water sparkle and the time of year meant the deciduous trees, including a lot of maples, were changing their colour for autumn (fall for our American readership).  We climbed up the Gorham trail for magnificent views of the park and the Atlantic oceans inlets and the islands guarding its harbours.

Wednesday, Alex fixed B1 kayak using duck tape instead of the puncture repair kit provided with the kayaks that has proved inadequate.  The repair worked splendidly and I didn’t gently sink as we kayaked along the shoreline.  I don’t believe there is anything Alex doesn’t believe can’t be mended with superglue or duck tape, I’m worried for any future health issues that she’ll administer the same to fix me.  The rest of the day was simply relaxing and chilling with an odd G&T thrown in for the fun of it.

We got up early on Thursday to take the Sea Princess cruise to Little Cranberry Island.  Little and Great Cranberry were named for the wild cranberries that grew on them until they cleared the marshland to remove the mosquitoes.  While the mosquitoes returned quickly after the clearance, the cranberries never have but the name has remained ever since.  The cruise departs from Southeast Harbour and after passing several islands it progresses up Somes Sound, which was incredibly beautiful in the sunshine.

After the cruise, we walked up to the Asticou Inn for lunch and had the local dessert of Popovers, which are similar to individual Yorkshire puddings but sweet and served with whipped butter and jam.  You can have them with chocolate sauce, which basically makes them enormous profiteroles.

Friday was our last full day together and after another relaxed day on the deck we went to dinner at the Brooklin Inn, further along the coast, where Alex, Gerry and I shared two bottles of Pinot Nera (which is Italian Pinot Noir) and poor Donna had to drive us home as the nominated driver. 

Saturday was sad for us all as we had to say goodbye to our friends, who were continuing on a road trip hoping to see Stephen King in Bangor where he lives before a trip to Salem.  It was wonderful having Donna and Gerry to spend a week with us, and whisper it out of his earshot, spend a week in a full bed with a large bathroom away from Reg.  We bid fond farewells and we set off back onto Mount Desert Island to do a little more of the park, camping at the tip by Bass Harbour from where on Sunday we cycled to Mount Acadia and walked up the mountain.

The top rewards you with some of the best views we’ve seen throughout our trip, with Somes Sound below and all the way out to sea.  The day was sunny and clear up until the harbour entrance where a sea mist was just beginning to come in. 

Overall a wonderfully relaxing and enjoyable week with friends and a nice holiday within a holiday before we set off for the N

ew England fall.

M