It was a short, sweet trip from New York through New Hampshire and into Maine. Moody, which is really part of the town of Wells, is on the coast, just 16 miles from the New Hampshire border. The RV park (Moody Beach Outdoor World) is not very large, but it is well located and seems just fine---except that it has too many trees so our built-in satellite dish doesn't work. And it doesn't have a pickle ball court.
Clearly, this is a resort community---as are all of the surrounding towns---with all of the usual crowds. This area has, though, a distinction: The traffic is horrible. The road passing through and connecting all of the towns is U.S. Highway 1, which, having just one lane in each direction, is completely jammed at most times of the day. Along the way, there is nothing but a continuous series of hotels and restaurants (and, of course, a few Dunkin' Donuts shops). Late on Saturday afternoon, we all rode our bikes a few miles to the beach in the town with the lovely name of Ogunquit. The crowd of tourists there made Provincetown, Massachusetts, seem like a ghost town by comparison. But everyone is civilized and patience makes everything tolerable.
At Ogunquit is a local community theater. Playing currently is "Sunset Boulevard" starring Stefanie Powers. (Remember "Hart to Hart"?) She wouldn't remember it, but I met her about 40 years ago, when she was still married to Gary Lockwood, at lunch aboard the boat belonging to Dolores Michelmore (the mother of a good friend of mine at UCLA) at Marina del Rey in California.
On Sunday, the girls rode their bikes to some of the local towns while Bill and I mostly relaxed. We were able, though, to set up our backup satellite dish (attaching it to our picnic table, since I still have no tripod) so we won't suffer through another week or so without TV.
Monday was spent in getting some maintenance done on our truck, in Dover, New Hampshire---the nearest GM dealer. The service manager (Craig Cann) was a delightful chap. Very helpful and friendly, and a third-generation United States Marine (Retired) to boot. He also has a son on his way to the Marines and a son-in-law who is a career Air Force officer. Thank you for your service, Cann family. Overall, it was a very nice experience; not inexpensive, but not infuriating like the usual interaction with a car dealer. That afternoon, the girls took the shuttle to the beach, and we later returned there---to have dinner at a cutesy local spot that took forever to serve Becky and me while Pat and Bill got their meals almost instantaneously. Strange.
On Tuesday, we went on a search for a summer home that Becky's family had rented in 1965 on Sebago Lake (about 45 miles away). With but a little help from some locals there, we found it. It's a nice home on the lakefront.
Becky was thrilled to have found it.
On Wednesday, the girls rode their bikes to the GM dealer (just to have a destination in another state) and we picked them up there. That evening we went to York to attend a free outdoor concert at Ellis Park---just off the beach. A number (15) of senior citizens (most of them from New Hampshire) have assembled a "big band" group to play there regularly during the summer. It was fun. The only drawback is that I was not attired properly for the weather. (Have I mentioned that we have finally escaped the heat of the past few weeks?) As the sun set slowly in the west, the temperature plummeted quickly in the east. After a half hour, I was freezing, so I repaired to the car to escape and listen to what I could hear of the music. I remember only the strains of "Tequila" coming through before I fell asleep.
On Thursday, we ventured to Kennebunkport. It's much like all the other local seaside towns with the singular distinction that there is an absolutely shameless amount of wealth represented by the homes that one sees there.
Standing out above the rest is the Bush (41) compound located on Walker point. It is an indescribably breathtaking---and magnificent---setting. Good for him! We were able to capture only a small part of the property on film.
Friday was a day to go back to York, etc., for a better look. Nice towns.
On Saturday we headed for the Boothbay Harbor area---200-mile round trip---said to be the inspiration for Cabot Cove on Angela Lansbury's "Murder She Wrote" TV show. We were looking for two homes that were once owned by friends from LA, Jack and Linda Hathaway (since divorced). We found them!!! They were beautiful.
And the surrounding area was as charming as you can get. On the way, though, we had to go through Wiscasset (the self-proclaimed "Prettiest Town in America") which had one of the now-familiar 3-mile backups on U.S. Hwy. 1. In this case, it turned out that the sole source of the backup was one intersection that had a very popular food stand ("Red's Eats") on one corner---with about 100 people waiting in line. Every driver stopped on his way by to gawk.
Sunday night was our time to splurge. At the suggestion of Steve Meadow, we had dinner at The White Barn Inn in Kennebunkport. They wouldn’t let me in without a jacket (which, of course, I no longer have). They let me borrow one of theirs. Ties were optional. The place was terrific. And so American. Our waitress was from Austria (of French and German origin). Our busboy was an obviously Asian fellow, from Turin, Italy. But the piano player played a lot of Gershwin, Rodgers & Hammerstein, Lerner & Loewe, Jerome Kern, and Andrew Lloyd Webber (who is not American, but should be). Our filets were so tender they didn’t even provide steak knives. That’s confidence. An altogether lovely meal.
On Monday, we mostly relaxed and prepared to go on to the next RV park.
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