Week in New England

So here I find myself (Hello Self!") in the office center of Boston's Commonwealth Hotel, enjoying my last morning in New England. Wifey is in the room fast asleep, as Wifey is wont to do. Our traveling companions, Eric and Dana are, if I guess right, downstairs in the hotel gym, exercising off the veal they ate last night in an overpriced, annoyingly South Beach-like North End Italian place. But I'm ahead of myself ("Slow down, Self!").

We met last Friday at MIA, and had a preflight courage drink at the AA Admiral's Club, a place our AMEX gets us into. That turned out to be a good idea, since the remnants of Tropical Storm Nicole preceded us up the East Coast, and the descent into Logan was a roller coaster ride.

We landed, got our SUV (Hertz upgraded Eric to an enormous Tahoe with S Carolina plates) and off we went, guided by a GPS that thought it better we see some North Boston 'hoods during rush hour than get right on I-95.

It was chilly and rainy. We made our way North and East along the Southern Maine coast, and found our way to a lobster shack in a small town called Red's. It was featured in the Times. We got there about 9 pm, it was raining, and there were still folks in line. Eric snapped photos, we ate delicious lobster rolls (each one with a pound of fresh, sweet meat) and were fortified for the final hour drive into Camden, Me.

We found the Inn (the Hartstone) and there was room there for us. I wondered why Mary had such a tough time in Bethlehem. We checked into the place, a facility out of the set of "Gilmore Girls."

The next am we had the best breakfast of our lives. We met the innkeeper, Michael Salmon, from Minnesota. The guy was right out of a travel channel profile of an innkeeper. He was an accomplished chef who realized his lifetime dream by owning a gorgeous NE Inn. He sat with us, over creme broulee French toast, and told us about a wonderful lighthouse tour.

We walked into town. It turns out that Camden is the inspiration for "Peyton Place" but we had no drama --just a thirst for good times and laughter.

Poor Wifey. She had been there with Edna and Jody, and I could tell in her wistful glances that she longed for their company again... But she claimed she preferred to be there with me! She's a great sport...

After a walking tour, we got into the car and drove to our first lighthouse. It was a mile out on a rocky jetty. It was lovely.

We saw another one later, and got a great tour by an elderly fellow who worked for the historical society. He told us all about Fresnel lenses. The one we saw was nearly 100 years old. Cool.

The third lighhouse, at Port Cleo, I think (all the cutesy Maine names start to run together in my mind) was cool, too, but my mind was on the Canes/Clemson game, which was in the second half. Dana met some fellow Canes fans right there on the rocks, and they got updates by cell phone.

As the game ended, we headed back to the SUV, which had XM, and we listened to the Clemson announcers call the Canes victory. We high fived our new friends. It was lovely...

That night, we headed to a hill outside of Camden, where Eric shot a gorgeous sunset over the valley outside of the Harbor. It was out of a dream.

Wifey and I reclined on a rock, and I told her I'd marry her all over again. She sighed. Maybe it wasn't so bad being without Jody and Edna after all...