RSSFriday B.S.: I’m talking to you, Kittery
Jun 29
Humor, Travel Kittery, Maine, Ogunquit, Travel Comments Off
Escape Velocity the minimum speed at which an object must travel to escape a planet’s or moon’s gravitational field in order to orbit around it or move off into space. Encarta
Stepmother: When going to hide, know how to get there.
Cinderella’s Father: And how to get back..
Florinda, Lucinda: And eat first..
Into the Woods
I woke up late, rushed a shower, no time to brew the coffee, quickly smeared sunscreen on my nose and ears, grabbed the rental car keys, the house keys, a bottle of water (lemon-lime!) and raced out the door. Today, I was playing hooky from work to go up to Ogunquit, Maine for a day of sweltering oppressive humidity, seaside views and Sally Struthers.
But I’m getting ahead of myself. I knew better than to rush out of the house without eating. Poor sleep and no food and long drive are a bad combination for anybody, but doubly so for someone who has a reputation for being cranky to begin with. So I stuffed a chocolate croissant down my throat without bothering to chew, a leftover from a trip to Panera, and washed it down with a gulp of cold water (lemon-lime!) I cranked up the CD player in the car and drove cross town to pick up my mother from the hotel.
Most of New England was experiencing the first heat wave of the summer, with temperatures middling in the 90s jacked up by 70% humidity (Waltham actually reached its record high temperature for today) though it was only in the low 80s when we left. It seemed liked a good day to escape, figuring likely as not there might be an ocean breeze and long periods of rental car air conditioning to keep us cool. There’s something inherently joyful about leaving behind the radius of your everyday life, work, home, grocery in the perpetual rotary that defines our day-to-day existence. It’s the promise of new experiences, encountering alien cultures (I’m talking to you, Kittery) and endless string of chotchskys stores to distract you with pretty colors.
For some of us, okay, admittedly it was me, breakfast was fast heading for a state of emergency, but we soldiered on, determined to get out of Massachusetts at least. Most of the drive there and back is highway with little in the way of scenic view.
Our first stop was Portsmouth, New Hampshire. After a quick consultation, we decided to drive to downtown Portsmouth for breakfast. Portsmouth sits on the Piscataqua River which runs between New Hampshire and Maine. The downtown is a criss cross of streets with cute cafés and uselessly entertaining shops. Even though it is oceanfront property, the air was thick as soup and there was no breeze. We ate at The Works on Congress Street. The menu had some variety, the coffee had some kick and the bathrooms were clean. The guy who made my sandwich was a dead ringer for Jimmy Fallon’s first cousin. He made a great Dagwood sandwich, and after a few bites and sip of hazelnut coffee, and I was feeling human again. We walked around, checking out some of the crafts stores, and walking down to the pier, and then piled back into the car.
On to Kittery, Maine, by way of route 1. Kittery is a naval town, home of the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard, but its claim to fame for tourists is the Kittery Outlets. The outlet shops run along the main drag on either side of the street. We only made one stop, at the Kittery Trading Post. It’s an outdoor emporium the size of a mall. Top floor is guns and skis, main floor clothing and Maine-themed souvenirs featuring lobsters, bears and moose, oh my! Never went downstairs to the bottom level, but I was more than satiated with my need for outdoor adventure shopping. They even had a robust selection of items for the RV (or RV-inspired) kitchen.
It was so big, that I cannot even do to justice the scale of the place, easy to get lost and never be seen again. I’m pretty sure they do survival training right in the store by sending you off in Man-vs.Wild style with only the clothes on your back and your camera crew into the selection of 3-D animal targets, to be found later just your skeleton and ragged clothing remains among the tandem kayaks, your jaw bone swung open as if you made one last call for help before expiring.
Finally, we drove the last stretch of 7 miles into the tiny seaside town of Ogunquit, Maine. We barely made it across town lines when we saw a huge marquee for the Ogunquit Playhouse. They had a matinée performance of The Full Monty with special guest Sally Struthers. We hit the brakes immediately, pulled into the parking lot and sent a scout to the Box Office to assess tickets for the 2:30 performance. Success!
Inside the playhouse, the temperature was 100 degrees. The matinée brought out the over 70 crowd. Though the theater itself was well air conditioned, the lobby was like a steam bath, with old ladies fanning themselves, perilously close to losing that last drop of moisture that keeps their skin from cracking like baked sourdough bread left in the oven too long. It was a full twenty minutes before the doors to the auditorium opened, with no relief outside, and less so in the lobby.
But actually, the performance was worth it. The Full Monty is a poorly written musical, but the cast did a good job with it, keeping it light despite some pretty heavy themes. The movie does a better job of telling the story, but maybe that doesn’t matter. The actor’s voices were strong, even with a shitty sound system, and it hit all the right notes of bawdy entertainment and Sally Struthers. Oh yes, her role of the piano-playing, wise-cracking Jeannette was a highlight. They gave her, or wrote in, all the juiciest lines and she delivered each with an enthusiastic punch.
And yet, leaving the theater, it was still 95 degrees, the air as thick as smoke as we drove down to Shore Road, adjacent to the water front. We opted to walk around the little downtown area to read the menus, found the local gay bar where two young strapping bucks sat on the porch and glared at us as we walked in, exalted in the coldest interior in Maine, and then left to triumphal glares of those two swaggering males who knew we didn’t belong there, and knew that we knew. Finally, drenched in sweat and dripping with perspiration, we settled for a nice, air conditioned restaurant called the Five-O that offered lobster and lamb and duck.
It was after eight p.m. before we felt our first breeze of the entire day. The temperature had cool by small degrees making it more tolerable to walk through some more kitsch shops. A lot of Ogunquit is a like a lot of other seaside towns, crafts stores and bakeries and t-shirts and book stores and restaurants. As we made our way home to Waltham, the lightning presaged the downpour which dried up before we made it through New Hampshire.
All in all, it was an exhausting but satisfying adventure. It’s easy to forget that there is a world to explore when you’re stuck in the grind of your daily life. It takes energy to break free from the routine, and even more to bear back down into it. And that’s why, at all times, you need to be well-fed.
