Thursday, August 29, 2002
Running North to escape the summer heat
LOOKING AHEAD by Wally Dobelis
Oak Island, N. S. Weary of the August heat wave, this family decided to take a long week's seaside vacation, driving to cool Nova Scotia.Saturday early we were in the car, trunk hastily packed, ready for the air-conditioned trip north on I-95, our favorite south-bound escape route. Unfortunately, the north-bound passage is clogged with trucks, commercial vans and other escapees, and tie-ups due to accidents. It took the whole day to get to Newburyport, MA, our chosen midpoint. The I-95 in New England is not decorated with plentiful little signs announcing Day Inns and other tourist refuges, and we thought the famous watering spot of the proper Bostonians would provide an overnight roof. [he AAA's preferred route of FDR Drive- Bruckner Blvd- Sprain Brook Pkway- connect to 684 -84 -290-495 to Amesbury, then I-95 etc is also pretty busy, as we experienced on the return trip.]
Arriving with the sinking sun, we found that Newburyport has no hotels, in fact, the local gentry is currently fighting a waterfront hotel proposal. The two inns and five bed-and-breakfasts were full up, as we established through the courtesy calls of Jennifer, the helpful receptionist at the neat Garrison Inn, who dialed up as far as New Hampshire in helping us find a spot to settle down for the night. Finally, a room was found in Ipswich, half an hour's drive back.
This entire trip was a preservationist's dream. Newburyport's access road, High Street, has a mile or two of stately mansions to admire, well preserved, mostly in Colonial/ Georgean styles, with nary a "For Sale" sign. The down- and up-hill streets, Green and State, leading to the busy harborside were full of summer seasonal visitors. Ipswich was more of the same, although less upscale. Our B&B, an old family home decorated with new Sheraton furniture, had 11 bedrooms and charged $120 a night. The local phone book had no listings for hotels, motels and B&Bs, although Main Street was chuck-a-block with tourist restaurants. We settled into Zabaglione, a classy Italian eatery which allowed no modest appetizer-and-salad dining, by charging applicants of that scenario the price of the least entree ($17.50) for any appetizer. That pushed me into the pasta with clam sauce category (Ipswich clams are famous), not a bad choice. The restaurant is small, and tries to get the most out of the short season. Ipswich also has good beaches; the best, on the Crane Foundation estate, charges $20 a carload, but we had no time to explore, Nova Scotia was calling.
On we went, now on the seaside Route 1, for local color. That too was crowded, once we passed through the short New Hampshire stretch. The State of Maine greeted us with four outlet centers, right at the border. Once we untangled ourselves, there was Ogunquit, the road full of cars and walkers crossing, stopping traffic at the marked pedestrian lines, in unending succession. States poor in traffic lights do that, obstructing the movement of vehicles. We used the opportunity to stop for our first taste of a lobster roll, at one of the ubiquitous seafood bars. Lobster was advertised along the road at $3.99 and $5.99/lb, with whole dinners starting at a modest $11.99. Maine, unlike its southern neighbors, revels in attracting tourists, with seafood, motels, outlets and miniature golf courses decorated with hokey Disneyworld- like features.
After Kennebunkport (no Bush in sight) we got off the lobster-shack route, back on I-95. The traffic had lightened, and we got to Freeport, the town that L. L. Bean built, without holdups. We are not strangers to the place, although some 20 years had elapsed since our last visit, looking for supplies for our Maine summer camper. Nevertheless, we were astonished at the growth. Every building in town houses an outlet store of a renowned brand. The parking lots behind Bean's 7/24 emporium, named after plants and animals, were immense. I forgot my creature's name, and spent an hour looking for our car. That delayed our arrival at the last destination, Bar Harbor, 160 miles away. Luckily, we had a reservation at the Regency Holiday Inn and Resort, hastily called in after the Newburyport fiasco.
As it turned out, Bar Harbor, located on Mount Desert Island , had plenty of facilities. The Holiday Inn, next door to the catamaran ferry terminal to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, was upscale - we heard an arrival complain about the $350 ocean-view room rate. Our modest park-view (actually, parking-lot view) room was a lot less. The hotel, mostly run by scores of blond Lithuanian and Russian college students on summer break, working as waiters, room attendants and porters, was pleasant, and the kids were attentive and eager to talk. Some were repeaters, although 9/11 had made their pre-arrival screening more difficult ("Blond terrorists? Gimme a break!")
Bar Harbor is tourist friendly, with free buses from the hotel Route 3 every quarter-hour to Main Street, another shopper paradise, although the brand names are more campy. "Cool as a Moose" is the main ladies' fashion house. Had a discussion with another Russian waitress as to who won WWII. There is a concert on the town green most every night, rock and traditional.
The big attraction is Acadia National Park, with the 1,500 foot high Cadillac Mountain, highest in the Northeast, as a major objective The park lends itself to a fast drive-through, along the one-way Park Loop, or a more leisurely hike-interrupted perusal. The two major beaches fill up their lots early. Resourceful visitors drop their cars along the roadsides, undisturbed by park police. The park has ranger programs throughout the day, although self-guided hikes are the norm. Popular is a two-mile relatively flat stroll along the side of the bay. For the hardy there are both easy and difficult mountain climbing opportunities.
Bar Harbor is best suited for the visitor who enjoys the hustle and bustle and wants to meet people. Luckily, Mount Desert Island has small towns, such as Northeast Harbor, where the vacationer can enjoy an uncrowded and private Maine oceanside summer, boating, fishing or walking along lilly ponds. We managed a walk or two, although our two days were crowded with activities, before the 49-mph whale-rich (not kidding) 3-hr ferry ride to Nova Scotia.. More next week. Happy Labor Day weekend!
Oak Island, N. S. Weary of the August heat wave, this family decided to take a long week's seaside vacation, driving to cool Nova Scotia.Saturday early we were in the car, trunk hastily packed, ready for the air-conditioned trip north on I-95, our favorite south-bound escape route. Unfortunately, the north-bound passage is clogged with trucks, commercial vans and other escapees, and tie-ups due to accidents. It took the whole day to get to Newburyport, MA, our chosen midpoint. The I-95 in New England is not decorated with plentiful little signs announcing Day Inns and other tourist refuges, and we thought the famous watering spot of the proper Bostonians would provide an overnight roof. [he AAA's preferred route of FDR Drive- Bruckner Blvd- Sprain Brook Pkway- connect to 684 -84 -290-495 to Amesbury, then I-95 etc is also pretty busy, as we experienced on the return trip.]
Arriving with the sinking sun, we found that Newburyport has no hotels, in fact, the local gentry is currently fighting a waterfront hotel proposal. The two inns and five bed-and-breakfasts were full up, as we established through the courtesy calls of Jennifer, the helpful receptionist at the neat Garrison Inn, who dialed up as far as New Hampshire in helping us find a spot to settle down for the night. Finally, a room was found in Ipswich, half an hour's drive back.
This entire trip was a preservationist's dream. Newburyport's access road, High Street, has a mile or two of stately mansions to admire, well preserved, mostly in Colonial/ Georgean styles, with nary a "For Sale" sign. The down- and up-hill streets, Green and State, leading to the busy harborside were full of summer seasonal visitors. Ipswich was more of the same, although less upscale. Our B&B, an old family home decorated with new Sheraton furniture, had 11 bedrooms and charged $120 a night. The local phone book had no listings for hotels, motels and B&Bs, although Main Street was chuck-a-block with tourist restaurants. We settled into Zabaglione, a classy Italian eatery which allowed no modest appetizer-and-salad dining, by charging applicants of that scenario the price of the least entree ($17.50) for any appetizer. That pushed me into the pasta with clam sauce category (Ipswich clams are famous), not a bad choice. The restaurant is small, and tries to get the most out of the short season. Ipswich also has good beaches; the best, on the Crane Foundation estate, charges $20 a carload, but we had no time to explore, Nova Scotia was calling.
On we went, now on the seaside Route 1, for local color. That too was crowded, once we passed through the short New Hampshire stretch. The State of Maine greeted us with four outlet centers, right at the border. Once we untangled ourselves, there was Ogunquit, the road full of cars and walkers crossing, stopping traffic at the marked pedestrian lines, in unending succession. States poor in traffic lights do that, obstructing the movement of vehicles. We used the opportunity to stop for our first taste of a lobster roll, at one of the ubiquitous seafood bars. Lobster was advertised along the road at $3.99 and $5.99/lb, with whole dinners starting at a modest $11.99. Maine, unlike its southern neighbors, revels in attracting tourists, with seafood, motels, outlets and miniature golf courses decorated with hokey Disneyworld- like features.
After Kennebunkport (no Bush in sight) we got off the lobster-shack route, back on I-95. The traffic had lightened, and we got to Freeport, the town that L. L. Bean built, without holdups. We are not strangers to the place, although some 20 years had elapsed since our last visit, looking for supplies for our Maine summer camper. Nevertheless, we were astonished at the growth. Every building in town houses an outlet store of a renowned brand. The parking lots behind Bean's 7/24 emporium, named after plants and animals, were immense. I forgot my creature's name, and spent an hour looking for our car. That delayed our arrival at the last destination, Bar Harbor, 160 miles away. Luckily, we had a reservation at the Regency Holiday Inn and Resort, hastily called in after the Newburyport fiasco.
As it turned out, Bar Harbor, located on Mount Desert Island , had plenty of facilities. The Holiday Inn, next door to the catamaran ferry terminal to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia, was upscale - we heard an arrival complain about the $350 ocean-view room rate. Our modest park-view (actually, parking-lot view) room was a lot less. The hotel, mostly run by scores of blond Lithuanian and Russian college students on summer break, working as waiters, room attendants and porters, was pleasant, and the kids were attentive and eager to talk. Some were repeaters, although 9/11 had made their pre-arrival screening more difficult ("Blond terrorists? Gimme a break!")
Bar Harbor is tourist friendly, with free buses from the hotel Route 3 every quarter-hour to Main Street, another shopper paradise, although the brand names are more campy. "Cool as a Moose" is the main ladies' fashion house. Had a discussion with another Russian waitress as to who won WWII. There is a concert on the town green most every night, rock and traditional.
The big attraction is Acadia National Park, with the 1,500 foot high Cadillac Mountain, highest in the Northeast, as a major objective The park lends itself to a fast drive-through, along the one-way Park Loop, or a more leisurely hike-interrupted perusal. The two major beaches fill up their lots early. Resourceful visitors drop their cars along the roadsides, undisturbed by park police. The park has ranger programs throughout the day, although self-guided hikes are the norm. Popular is a two-mile relatively flat stroll along the side of the bay. For the hardy there are both easy and difficult mountain climbing opportunities.
Bar Harbor is best suited for the visitor who enjoys the hustle and bustle and wants to meet people. Luckily, Mount Desert Island has small towns, such as Northeast Harbor, where the vacationer can enjoy an uncrowded and private Maine oceanside summer, boating, fishing or walking along lilly ponds. We managed a walk or two, although our two days were crowded with activities, before the 49-mph whale-rich (not kidding) 3-hr ferry ride to Nova Scotia.. More next week. Happy Labor Day weekend!
# posted by Wally Dobelis @ 3:57 PM 
