Portland, ME

The journey from Boston to Portland was only a couple of hours and after touching down, I made my way over to the place I’d be staying for my first night. I'd met Jacob on Couchsurfing and he'd agreed to put me up for two nights, but after an interesting walk to the city with his roommate Indy (named after the state he was on the run from, nobody knows his real name) I decided I'd be more comfortable elsewhere, away from nameless criminal. I spent the evening looking around town, trying to stay away from shady characters (for a nice town, Portland has a lot of scary people) and stuffing my face with a pizza and then a burger. Don't judge, it was raining so what's a girl to do? I took a walk along the coast line, where a man was shuffling along like a week old zombie. Another one to avoid. What with it being Portland, there were some pretty cool coastal sights, like the bait shack below and a collection of lobster traps seen below that. 

BAIT SHACK btw

My distrust and dislike of Indy led to some frantic couchsurfing messaging and fortune shone bright that grey rainy day. I managed to find a place to stay for two more nights in Portland, with a lovely young married couple called Tana and Matthew. I spent the rest of the night looking around, avoiding crazies, and witnessed a cute little law abiding skunk crossing the road at a genuine crossing point.



I slept pretty soundly that night and the next morning I left Jacob's house under the pretence of miraculously discovering that I had family in the area and trotted off to their house with a sigh of relief. Tana told me of a local waterfall that I could go and take a look at and that after she could take me to Kinnebunkport, a coastal town famous for being the vacation residence of the Bush family as she was driving nearby to there anyway. So off I went to Jewel Falls and enjoyed some of the nature Portland had to offer.

True to her word, Tana dropped me off near Kinnebunkport and I walked the rest of the way. I'd searched online about things to do there and two things seemed interesting. Firstly, a whale watching boat tour and secondly a lobstering boat tour. I was initally quite taken by the whale one but after reading about how they can rock the boat and, not having a particular affinity for drowning, I opted for the lobster tour. I'd also read that there was no guarantee of seeing any whales so the lobster tour it was. I arrived at port and found myself on a lovely little boat with a crew of two. We went to collect the lobster traps that had been set out previously, saw the Bush family basking around their pool (Barbra wasn't, she was gardening), spotted some seals off the edge of the boat and learnt about how the lobstering trade works. Only certain lobsters can be kept, those which aren't too big and aren't too small. You can't catch the big ones because it's their job to make the little ones and your can't catch the little ones because, well I can't remember why not but probably because they're not tasty enough yet. Our catches went back into the water and were presumably very happy about it.

Kinnebunkport has a pretty prominent art scene and while being touristy it isn't in your face touristy. Just a nice little town to explore and I did just that until Tana and her friend picked me up after they'd watched a musical in a nearby town. Back at their house, we had lasagne for dinner and I found my way back into town on my own as they were busy, but that was no problem. There's a passage in a Bill Bryson book detailing his journey to the Calais ferry.

I found myself squeezing through holes in chainlink fences and picking my way between rusting railway carriages with broken windows. I don't know how other people get to the ferry at Calais, but I had the distinct feeling that no-one had ever done it this way before. - Bill Bryson, Notes from a Small Island

I felt this way quite a lot of times being a pedestrian in the USA. My destination was a park atop a hill, and I went there via what seemed like the entirety of a hospital. Endless corridors, elevator rides and people walking around with concerned looks. I had that concerned look as well I'm sure but my only concern was getting shot of the place. I finally emerged into the Western Promenade Park where there was a band playing. I sat nearby and watched people going about their lives. Strangers chatting to one another while their dogs tumbled together, a man and his dog chasing each other at full velocity, couples chatting with each other and families playing. It was a really sweet moment, and combined with the setting of the sun and the melodies of the band, I actually ended up shedding a single happy tear. LOL.


Once it was sufficiently dark to go wandering around an unfamiliar town, I did just that. Residential Portland at night is a dark, dark place and here I was searching for a dive bar with good fried chicken. Despite all the odds and only asking every person I came across, I found the place I was looking for - Ruski's Tavern.

Nice crispy chicken, creamy mash with a yummy thick gravy. Just what I needed after a massive slice of lasagne...

I honestly can't remember how I got home this night and not because I was drunk. Maybe it was traumatic and I repressed it but more than likely it was uneventful or I was too tired from my tear. To the land of sleep I went in a wonderfully comfortable bed. Tana and Matthew were busy the next day so I decided I'd go out to the Portland Head Light, a lighthouse first built in 1791 making it the oldest lighthouse in Maine. I took a bus as far as I could and then walked in the sweltering heat the rest of the way.



I was tempted by a bakery along the way that I SWEAR called out my name and begged me to eat more than I should.



And so it was that I ended up with these treats you see below.



The donut was so full of cream and so covered in sugar it was impossible to eat and stay clean, so I chose the only sensible choice and ate it.

Woops.

 I made it to the lighthouse and wandered around for a while, popping into the museum and becoming bewildered at a map that showed the sea going right up into California. I asked a couple of the people in there and even the museum worker and nobody could offer an explanation. I later learned that the sea DOES go right up into California, specifically Baja California, a state of Mexico. The people I asked really should have known better. At least I have an excuse.

See North America on the right.

I grabbed a couple of slices of pizza for dinner, looked around town and headed home for my last night's sleep in Portland. The next morning I had to catch my bus back to Boston for a potential trip to Salem. I stopped by a nice little cafe called The Sinful Kitchen on the way to the bus terminal and had myself some eggs florentine with home fries. Those Americans know how to brunch, that's for sure!

 See you later Portland!

Thanks for reading,

Dan