It's bloody impossible to drive in Boston, let alone find a place to park. Your best bet is the subway, called the T by locals. Bob lives in Wakefield so the closest T station was Oak Grove on the orange line. So, my first task upon arriving in Boston was to get from the airport out to Oak Grove. It was surprisingly easy.
The MBTA:
A surprisingly empty subway car:
Bob took me out to Harvard for dinner. We didn't actually go onto the university campus because the weather was so foul - blame Hurricane Hanna for that! Instead we had dinner at one of the local restaurants. After dinner we caught the T into Boston and Bob took me to Donovan's, a "locals" bar in the Faneuil Hall marketplace, for a few pints of Guinness. I loved listening to the heavily-accented conversations, which were mostly about the football game on the big-screen TV. It was also nice to be in a "bar" bar. They didn't serve food. They didn't have young, attractive bar tenders. They just had a wooden bar, stools, the TV, and a whole lotta alcohol.
Donovan's at night:
The next day we were supposed to get up early and head up to Maine. Hah! Great plan after a late night and a bit o' Guinness! Instead we slept in until close to noon. Luckily Maine is just a couple of hours away, a short hop over the state of New Hampshire. We arrived in Ogunquit in the early afternoon. Our first stop was the Nubble Lighthouse, which is actually closer to Cape Neddick, but I digress.
Nubble Lighthouse:
Bob the photographer:
From there we drove up towards Kennebunkport. Bob stopped at the side of the road to show me the "compound" where George Bush Sr. spends his summers. Bob pulled out his Nikon, which has a smallish telephoto lens on it, to take some photos. I'm not sure if that caused alarm, or if it was just general practice, but shortly thereafter a secret service agent strolled by and had a good look at us. I'm sure that they also recorded Bob's license plate number, and probably took a few photos of us.
George Bush Srs. compound in Kennebunkport:
Our next stop was Cape Porpoise. We stopped at a local pub hoping for a pint of Guinness but their tap wasn't working. Instead we had a couple of bottles of very delightful Shipyard Ale, a beer brewed in Maine. We sat outside and enjoyed the sun, the sights and sounds of the harbour, and the opportunity to just live life slowly.
Working fish boats in the harbour:
Lobster traps stacked on the dock:
Shucking corn for dinner at the chowder house:
Bob, his camera, and Shipyard Ale:
Our final stop of the day was the town of Kennebunkport, which is about three blocks long and two blocks wide. Bob took me to a shop that only sold condiments, and in particular, hot sauce. He'd seen a hot sauce called "Too Fucking Hot" the last time he was in the store and wanted to buy it for a friend. Unfortunately they were sold out. I wanted to buy a sauce but couldn't decide. I should have taken a picture of it - one entire wall of the store was just bottles of hot sauces. I'm not kidding!
We asked the proprietor of the condiment store about places to stay. He recommended the Kennebunkport Inn, which was a block away. We walked there to inquire about rooms and rates. A bus had just disgorged a seniors' tour and they were shuffling their way from the bar to the restaurant. We almost turned and fled. I don't know what it was, but the sea of seniors was terrifying.
Anyway, we persevered and wended our way to the front desk. The young fellow checked us into a room with a queen sized bed and was about to hand us the key when he noticed our two sets of raised eyebrows. Bob then asked for two beds or two rooms. The young fellow got a bit flustered and then suggested a suite with separate rooms. He cut the rate nearly in half for us. It was a "sweet" suite, with a spacious living room and dining room, three separate bed rooms, and a balcony.
The living room and mini-kitchen:
Two of the rooms, located just off the living room:
We checked out a couple of restaurants for dinner and settled on The Landing. It looked "rustic classy" and the menu seemed quite varied. However, I knew we were in for a bad dinner when our waiter cheerfully described the "special" as baked haddock, covered in Ritz cracker crumbs and white sauce. I had scampi, which consisted of a few overcooked shrimp thrown on top of a pile of undercooked pasta. Thank goodness for the stale, days-old white wine to wash it down!
The Landing restaurant in Kennebunkport, as seen from the bridge:
Strangely enough, I didn't eat any lobster while I was in Maine:
The next morning we drove down to Newburyport, Rockport, and Gloucester. Rockport was absolutely stunning. I couldn't believe how small the harbour was. It was absolutely jam-packed with working fish boats. The art colony north of the harbour was also fantastic. Bob and I were more interested in taking photos than shopping, though.
View of the tight harbour entrance:
Rusting anchor and fish boat:
Dories tied to the dock:
Fish boats at anchor in the harbour:
Bear Skin Neck, where the art colony is located:
Old fishermen's huts converted into art stores:
Colorful lobster trap floats outside of a store:
Kayaks for rent:
Historic notice on the side of a house:
Another view of Rockport Harbour:
One of the quaint alleys:
Fishermen's huts converted into houses:
There was an exceedingly low tide that day:
From Rockport we drove to Gloucester. Our only stop was at the Fishermen's Memorial. It was a gray and rainy day, which seemed quite appropriate. Gloucester is perhaps most famous as the port from which the crew of the Andrea Gail sailed in 1991 and encountered a "perfect storm". The book "The Perfect Storm", which described the storm and the events leading up to the loss of the Andrea Gail, was made into a movie in 2000.
Fishermen's Memorial in Gloucester:
Fishermen's Memorial plaque:
The crew of the Andrea Gail:
Once back in Boston I attended to business. I also squeezed in a quick visit with a couple that Simone and Bruce met on a cycling tour in France this summer. Brenda and Maggie picked me up at the Braintree station on the red line of the T and took me for lunch at Jake's in Hull. They also took me for a drive around Hull to see some of the sights, before dropping me off at the ferry terminal in Quincy, where I caught the fast ferry back into Boston.
Jake's restaurant:
Brenda and Maggie:
View of Quincy from the fast ferry:
Entering Boston Harbour on the ferry:
Back in Boston, I wandered around the harbour and then struck out for Chinatown. I found a restaurant that had a good soup selection. I tried ordering food in Mandarin for the first time, with limited success. I also asked for directions to the washroom after dinner and got "turned over" to a senior waiter because my waiter didn't know what the hell I was saying.
After visiting the loo, I asked the senior waiter what I'd said wrong. I guess I was using the European term "water closet" instead of the American term "restroom". When I asked how to say restroom, he launched into a string of Mandarin that made my eyes glaze over. I think he said "gonggongchangsuohuojiguanneifusheguanxi". That's what shows up in my e-dictionary when I type in "restroom". Try saying that when you've got your legs crossed and you're hopping up and down! I'm going to have to ask my Mandarin tutor, Jack, if there's an shorter word that I can use!
An entrance to the State subway station:
The Friendship Arch at the entrance to Chinatown:
So, that was my visit to Boston and Maine. Short, sweet, and educational!
