Bangor and Bucksport

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At long last I was travelling again. The trip to Maine was surprisingly picturesque. In the morning Malcolm dropped us off at the AMTRAK station in Wilmington, and we caught the train north through Newark and New York to Boston. Although we didn't see anything of NYC, because the train tracks were all underground, the 'Northeast Regional' did take us past the beautiful sea front houses along the coast of Conneticut and Rhode island, before pulling into Boston after seven hours. Sadly, we were only in Boston for 10 minutes before our bus to Bangor pulled out, but we knew we'd be coming back. Before nightfall we got a taste of Maine's scenery, with thick dark forest on each side of the road making me wish that I had been healthy enough to bring my pack and tent along.

On our arrival in Bangor we were met by Sandy and Nancy, who had been waiting for us at the bus terminal. I hadn't seen either of them since I had stayed with them for a couple of days when I passed through Antofagasta, Chile, where Sandy was working at the time. Mum hadn't seen Sandy all year, and it had been years since she met Nancy. We were all in good spirits as we drove the 20 miles from Bangor to Nancy's house in Bucksport, even though we were totally exhausted after our journey from Wilmington that morning. I had originally planned on meeting up with Sandy and Nancy in late June, giving Sandy plenty of time to come up with a plethora of activities while we were in Maine.

Our days in Maine were absolutely glorious. The sun shone bright, the sky was clear, and for the first time in months I let myself just bask in it. After a late start that morning we lazed on the Penobscot River's edge in Bucksport, a small one industry town down the river from Bangor, Maine's second largest town. Looking out towards the bridge led you past moored boats, Fort Knox on the opposite bank and endless forests on the opposite banks. Not surprisingly, the whole area was famous for its lumber and shipbuilding, and presently the major employer in town is the papermill, a dominant figure on the river immediately upstream, with its chimneys and sheer size the opposite of the surrounding nature.

Mum and I had timed our trip up to Maine surprisingly well, even if it was by accident, for the next day we ventured up to Bangor for the American Folk Festival. The National Folk Festival tours around the US, stopping at a city for a couple of years before moving on. The story goes that it was so popular in Bangor that the council decided to keep it as an annual event, and started the American Folk Festival. Sadly, the festival runs on donations, which means that there are only 5 performance venues despite the massive turnout. Nevertheless it was quite fun and picturesque, the festival spreading from the city down one side of the river far enough to warrant hailing one of the electric transport buggies that were scooting around. The first night was all about the dancing, while I sat down and watched, not feeling quite like I had the energy or the style to pull it off. I did however get a big fat kiss on the cheek from this big woman from Houston, who was singing some excellent blues. The highlight of the next day at the festival was a steel drum band from New York, though a local Native American group also had a very interesting performance. From Harlem, the steel drum band had so much energy and made some wonderful music. When they started playing I thought at first that I was listening to something prerecorded, just because it was a sound that I had never heard before - apart from perhaps a couple of disney movies set in the Carribean. They also got everyone dancing to a tune where you held up a dollar note above your head whilst dancing - a whole lot of fun.

The next day was an early start, with Sandy and I leaving Mum and Nancy back at the home while we went fishing with Sandy's friend Alan. Bucksport is seemingly surrounded by a combination of forests, rivers and lakes - which makes for beautiful scenery and close proximity to water. We ended up on a lake just west of the town, in a little cove near some reed beds where we cast our lures. All the times that Sandy had previously taken me out in his little inflatable, 'fishing' would have been a more appropriate term than 'catching', though on this occasion we actually had a good haul. We all caught some fish, of course giving them big wet kisses before lovingly watching them swim away. After a couple of hours on the water we headed back home, giving me the chance to waste away the afternoon reading my cheap crime thriller in Nancy's yard.

The water theme continued that evening, with a cruise around Verona Island on a red boat called Lil' Toot. As there were only a couple of other people on the small boat it was a really nice affair with stops for birdwatching, lots of interesting details about the area - and Mum even took over skipper duties for a long while, even if she couldn't steer straight. Lil' Tooting around the island brought us back under the bridge on the way to Bucksport, before passing the Fort and the picturesquely lighted papermill.

Mum I hadn't had a Maine lobster experience to date, something that we were all keen to rectify. Stonington, perhaps an hours drive from Bucksport, is a working lobster fishing port and a well known day trip destination. Under yet another brilliant blue sky we found ourselves on a jetty high above the low tide, eating lobster rolls and salads. The town was a little tourist ready, with its main street was crowded with cars from everywhere, though pretty with flower clad houses and a collection of ice creameries.

Maine is a very popular holiday location, with lots of summer homes about. You couldn't tell from the balmy days we enjoyed, but the winters are very harsh, and many people struggle to afford the heating oil to keep the often old houses warm. The majority of Maine's towns are full of working class people trying to get by in an region of limited employment opportunities, though during the summer many wealthy people flock to towns such as Bar Harbour to enjoy themselves. Of course these rich folk need people to make sure that their summer homes are in order before and after their playtime, which is how Nancy makes her money. Bar Harbour is perhaps the largest small town on an island which is mostly taken up by the Acadia National Park, a popular area for kayaking, hiking and mountain biking. After dropping Nancy off at a very beautiful house, Sandy, Mum and I ventured into town for some blueberry pancakes (and for Sandy a pile of eggs, bacon and 'home fries' in accordance with his strict diet), a walk around the picturesque town and an audit of the number plates, which showed that people had come from as far as Alabama. The sides covered in thick forest like the rest of Maine, the predominant feature of the island is Mt Cadillac, the highest coastal mountain on the East coast. It also holds special significance to the Native Americans as the first point of the continental US to see the sunrise and has a spectacular view out across the coastline and ocean.

After taking many pictures it was time though to pick up Nancy and head for lunch, before leaving the island to visit Nancy's own patch of lakeside land. Even though the land lacks any kind of house, the forest more than makes up for it. Though lying in the sun on a rock was calming, I chose to take to the water in a small kayak - it had been a while since paddling up the Clyde River but it was great to be back on the water and a great way to finish my time in Maine, which after a week had come to an end. The next day we left Nancy in Bangor as we caught the bus with Sandy to Boston to begin the next stage of our adventure.

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Photos

Penobscot River
Looking out from Bucksport towards the bridge over the marina.

Sandy
Doing what he does best at the folk festival.

Bangor
From the bridge.

Oceania Representatives
Perhaps unsurprisingly we were the only ones from Canberra!

New Dawn Singers
Singing a traditional song.

Steel Drum Band
With Sandy's head in the way, as per usual

Dollar Dollar Dollar!
The famous dollar shaking song.

Steel Drum Band
More high energy shenanigans.