Day two of our three-week road trip took us from Boothbay Harbor, Maine, through Rockland, and up to Camden. Two lighthouses, a burger, and another great old inn made for a fantastic second day!
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While we live just about 15 miles from the Maine border, our travels these past 24 years together have largely skipped the Casco Bay area and focused either on southern Maine (Kittery, York, Ogunquit, and the Kennebunks), Freeport, or Bar Harbor/Acadia National Park. We’ve visited Portland a handful of times and few places in between all the others, but not often. Our Memorial Day trip to Hermit Island Campground in Phippsburg with our van changed that, as we finally had the chance to explore one of Maine’s “fingers” along Casco Bay. For this trip, we’ll be exploring parts of Maine on both the front and back ends, and we decided to make our first stop in Boothbay Harbor, a town we had only visited once before.
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To celebrate our 20th anniversary, we’ll driving up the coast of Maine with stops in Boothbay Harbor, Camden, Monhegan Island, and Bar Harbor. From there, we’ll cross the border to New Brunswick, visiting Campobello Island, St. Andrews, and then Fundy National Park. We’ll drive across to Nova Scotia and make our way around the province—all the way around and up and around Cape Breton Island. We’ll then travel from Wood Island, NS, across the Northumberland Strait to revisit PEI. After a few days there, we’ll head back home.
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it’s not until you walk around to the back of Pemaquid that you take in the scene in all its Maine coast glory. Those rocks. That surf. The light. I can only imagine how dramatic a scene against a fiery sunset or sunrise or stormy skies. Even on this day, the sight was impressive.
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If you know us, you know that we love lobster rolls. Honestly, nothing says summer in New England than a classic split-top, squared-side frankfurter roll (not to be confused with the rounded, side-split hot dog bun!) piled high with chilled, fresh lobster meat tossed with just a hint of mayo. I take my lobster rolls seriously, and I’m always seeking out new ones to try to see if they’ll make it to the top of my growing list. So, when we decided to camp at Hermit Island in Phippsburg, Maine, over the Memorial Day weekend, we set out to find the weekend’s best lobster roll. Three days, three lobster rolls.
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Our “camping” lasted a few years. I’m not sure how or why we stopped. But in my mind, I yearned to a return to that vision of ourselves. But now, in my mid-40s and G in his early 50s, the idea of sleeping in a tent on the ground wasn’t one that we were both thrilled to return to. And then I started looking at vans. And rooftop tents. And trailers. And then back to vans. If you’ve been reading the blog, you know that we bought a van in November—a 2002 VW Eurovan Weekender…with the cool Westfalia pop-top. She’s a beauty; I’m in love. And for Memorial Day weekend, we headed off to Maine for our maiden voyage.
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With our original plan of driving Highway 1 all the way down to LA thwarted, we took the opportunity to visit Pinnacles National Park. Pinnacles is a bit off the beaten path, and as you’re driving through farmland and vineyards, it’s hard to imagine that the road will lead to a park created by the eruption of volcanoes 23 million years ago.
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I’m not going to lie: I love the California coastline, and the scenery on this particular stretch is truly awe-inspiring. For G, who is afraid of heights, it’s a bit nerve-wracking. He can appreciate the beauty, but winding roads on the side of a cliff and a massive bridge aren’t his ideas of a good time. I say this as I’m the one with my face pressed against the car window the entire time.
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San Francisco is a city of contrasts—rich and poor, mansions and tents, skyscrapers and towering trees. It’s a bustling tech hub yet a nature-lover’s paradise. It’s a city teeming with people, yet it manages to maintain a neighborhood feel. It's a “big” city, all wrapped up in 49 square miles. One of my favorite places makes me feel as though I’m worlds away from tech giants and big stores, far from the crowds and noises of the city: Lands End, where trails wind through trees far above the sea and where sweeping views of the Golden Gate Bridge reward nearly every step.
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I’ll confess: In all my travels to San Francisco, I had never made it to Alcatraz. Part of me wondered if it would be a bit “too” touristy and overhyped. Among all the other potential day trips and places to visit, Alcatraz simply never made it to the top of my list—that is, until this past March. The verdict: Wow. Just wow.
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I was lucky enough to be exploring on a weekend, when the fort was open (in the spring, it’s open Friday-Sunday). For the next hour or more, I explored every nook and cranny. I wondered about what California must have been like years prior, when the fort stood guard even before the Golden Gate Bridge became the city’s sentinel. I wandered inside its arched walls as the rain slowed to a steady drizzle and, then stopped, making way for clearing skies. From within the brick walls to atop the fort itself, I took it all in—the bridge from every angle, including underneath!. From this incredible new-to-me vantage point, I wondered how I had never made my way here before.
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To say that Muir Woods is “beautiful” is an understatement. Maybe “staggering” is more apt. It’s easy to feel so small and young among the tall and old trees. Coastal redwoods rise from the ground, stretching far into the sky. I craned my neck, pointed my lenses, and still, I could not do these trees justice. With the rain falling and the moist air, the clean, pure smells of the forest filled me. I felt grounded. Calm. With every step, I reaped the wonderful benefits of forest bathing.
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My “jet-setting” life was certainly not glamorous. Yet, as the taxi or the Uber made its way from SFO or OAK toward the city, I took it all in. As I walked the mile from my hotel, The Metro—(truly, my home away from home), each Saturday to and from classes, New Hampshire and my life there seemed miles away—3,138, to be exact.
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