Down day in Digby

Bonjour à tous!





Well, it's time to do some catching up. As it turns out not all promised wifi is actually functioning wifi. "Yes we have wifi in our rooms, but it's not working today."





In any event when I last wrote I was in Kennebunkport. Since then as the title of this post suggests I've made my way up the Atlantic coast on Hwy 1 to the Calais-St Stephen border crossing and on to Saint John where I took a late ferry (more on this briefly) to Digby.





Thursday, after a small detour to see Old Orchard Beach, I stopped for lunch at J's Oysters on the waterfront in Portland. The local oysters and mussels went down very well with the glass of cold Chardonnay. I stopped for the night at the Hotel Navigator Motor Inn (of the not tonight wifi fame) in Rockland and had a nice dinner of local oysters and beautifully seared scallops (with a lovely french white) at The Pearl, another one of those on the pier establishments. If you're starting to detect a pattern in the meals, then you're on to something. Jane has suggested I should have called this summer's blog Guy's Eastern Coast Seafood Retirement Ride; she's so smart!





Yesterday I continued to follow Hwy 1 and drove through the small town of Penopscot Maine. (Quick, what famous tv series character had that name? And for bonus points why?)


At Elsworth I took a small detour on Route 3 down to Acadia National Park, Seal Cove (none there yesterday), and past Bar Harbour. Lunch of steamed clams with melted butter and ice tea at the Lobster Pound at Trenton Bridge was very nice, if a bit messy.





From the bike I arranged, through my most efficient travel assistant, Jane Coutts of Coutts Comminicates -should any of you require more than writing and editing expertise - for a reservation on the ferry from Saint John to Digby and for a motel room in Digby. Since the scheduled departure was 11:oo pm I had plenty of time to ride into downtown Saint John and have dinner. O.k. I strayed from the all seafood and white wine diet and hade a big hunk of prime rib with a glass of Malbec at a place called Churchill's (not bad, but not a patch on the fare at the similarly named restaurant in North Bay). With the help of two Harley riders - oh how embarassing was that- who showed me how to tie down my BMW, boarding the ferry went smoothly. Our sailing time came and went, and went, and went; some problem with a, I guess critical, hydraulic hose somewhere in the bow. In any event, I along with most of the other passengers stretched out on apholstered surfaces and nodded off. "And when I awoke" there were lights out the window (other then those on the outer decks I mean), and we were approaching Digby Harbour. The three hour voyage had lasted five and a half hours. Thank God for guaranteed late arrival. The key was in the motel room door as promised, I dropped in bed at 4:3o and fell asleep wondering what tomorrow would be like.





Rain, rain, rain. Oh well, it's been sunny every day since I left. A day to stop, plan, and catch up with emails





À la prochaine.