The Maine Event

So, if you like beaches and lobster and quaint New England cottages (and aren't too much of a Red Sox hater), go visit Ogunquit, ME, a town I still can't quite pronounce and often misspell, but which I think is just wonderful.



The base of town ends with Perkins Cove, but there's a small walkway called the Marginal Way that rings around the cliff and curves towards the beach, which has two elements -- a broad tidal basin that leads to the ocean, and a little fast-moving creek which eventually feeds into the water. I went with the guy and his family and we stayed in a family home in the middle of town, and while there, H and I walked the Marginal Way (just about a mile) and passed some amazing sights.



If you could see these houses and the view just outside their front doors, you'd move in a minute. Hell, I'd live in the guest house. Imagine how dramatic in the winter!



A view down to the beach, from the Marginal Way.



And a lovely winding tree perched right on the cliff's edge. The curves were so smooth and sensual. Once we walked around the remainder of the Way (which led back into town and then curved towards the beach, cutting through a small collection of B&Bs/hotels/homes with immaculate manicured gardens and children tossing balls at one another -- an image that seemed to come from somewhere between David Lynch and Norman Rockwell) and down to the far end of the Ogunquit beach, over a bridge.



This sign greets you; we scrambled down to the sand by the creek and immediately got bit by some kind of iridescent sand fly, but otherwise went pretty unmolested.



The water in the creek, which ran in rivulets and small streams here and there, cutting through the sand in unusual patterns, was cool but not cold, and very pleasant.



Pre-beach, we ran into plenty of these trash bins, all labeled with individual inspirational signs, for reasons unknown. Ogunquit isn't exactly a crystals-and-faeries kind of seaside town, but it does have its own way of doing things. One thing I particularly like: No chain stores or restaurant. Not a Starbucks in sight.



H's mom wanted to get a lobster roll in Kennebunkport, so we headed out of town into Bush territory; wonder if the lobstahs are redder in that part of the world. It was tasty....



And afterwards we headed up to Freeport, home to loads of outlet stores like L.L. Bean so H's dad could return some shirts. This was one street which held particular significance.



I wondered if when you got fired from the Bean if they just came out here and said they were giving you the boot. I kill me.

A lovely, lobster-filled weekend! Go now. Or don't -- there actually are plenty of tourists already. Just don't ask me about the ride home ... and when you go, pick an off-hour. It's supposed to take 5 hours from New York City: Going up, it took us over 7. Seriously.

* England recap coming soon! Really! This was just easier...