Back from Maine

I was in Maine for most of a week, in case you were wondering. I left Sunday afternoon and landed in Boston at around 5. My favorite art historian was there to pick me up, and we drove into the wilderness of the upper northeast. I find that I'm not in a "discuss every detail" mood right now, so here are the highlights:

It rained most of the first three days, which was fine, because I had a freelance editing project to finish. MFAH and I made daily trips from the family cottage, in beautiful Robinhood, ME, to Bath or Brunswick, where the coffee shops have free Wi-Fi. We had dinner with two groups of friends/family, and I found another someone who won't mind my sending him discs full of music I think he should hear. We went to the beach where I first confessed my love to the art historian, three years ago; it was misty and windy, the way I always pictured Maine anyway. We had lunch at MFAH's grandmother's house, where her great-grandparents' art lines the walls and sits on pedestals in the lawn. Her cousin took us on an extended boat tour of the coves and fjords that surround the island (Georgetown island?) where Robinhood is. We even saw seals.

We drove into Portland, saw The Constant Gardener, spent too much money on CDs (including the Zombies' Odessey and Oracle, which, after a few listenings, I believe is one of the best albums ever released). We went to the great new Mexican place in Brunswick, where MFAH grew up and where her mother still lives; I believe I had food poisoning, which made Thursday night quite disagreeable.

Between the chorizo and the late night, we drove to the strangest town I've ever seen. Freeport used to be a regular little town, with shops and houses and credit unions and suchlike. Now it's an outlet mall—but it still looks like a town. There's the old Carnegie library building, but it's really Abercrombie and Fitch. The tasteful brick courthouse is really a Banana Republic. All along the quiet streets are outlet stores disguised as houses and historical buildings. The Starbucks is an 18th-century Cape Cod house. The McDonald's used to be a three-bedroom dwelling. And all of the houses that are not inhabited by major retailers are now bed and breakfasts. There are probably people living in Freeport, but I don't know where they live.

Friday evening I caught a bus to Boston, where I stayed with my old friend Moosie and his new wife Erin in their suburban apartment. Rent is sure expensive around Boston. $1200 for a one-bedroom apartment a half-hour's drive from the actual city? No thank you.

Um, I guess that's it. It was a nice vacation, except for the food poisoning, and even that passed pretty quickly.