Look how beautiful! Lucky us, the past two years have help trips to my favorite state: Maine. This year, we stayed farther south, spending lots of family time in Scarborough and Portland. But last year (and yes, we're really over a year late here), we spent a week in Bar Harbor, the quaint island harbor town of my childhood vacations.
Like this year, we stopped in Portland for a night to split up the drive, visiting our recurring faves Fore Street, Duck Fat, and Commercial Street shops.
We stayed at the pretty old-fashioned Portland Regency, which felt a bit antiquated for our taste, with dark wood and real keys.
We darted out early for coffee at Walker's favorite, Bard coffee. And, for breakfast every morning, Holy Donut. Maple glaze for dayz.
Portland always surprises me with its warmth; the volume of red brick and frequent sunshine make it feel cozy and bright for a coastal sea town.
But Alie really got happy when we arrived, after a 3 hour drive, in Bar Harbor. The quiet streets with the sounds of pine needles brushing each other, the grays and blues everywhere, the creaky historic buildings, and the complete lack of pretension or artifice. And family! We met my sister and her family, and my parents, and shared a house together close to the town green.
But mostly, the town itself, riding right up along the shore, the consistency of businesses that have remained since my childhood.
We walked the Shore Path most mornings or evenings, the mile-long trail that runs from one end of town to the other. Here are photos from our first, pastel evening.
We walked the shore to West Street Cafe, where local lobstermen tell us they pay fairly and where I always get lazy man's lobster: a whole lobster out of the shell, cooked in a crock of butter.
And watched the sun's late colors hit rush the trees and sea. Lots more Maine photos are on their way here!