When we left Wyoming to move to Maine, everyone said something along the lines of, “Well, I guess you’re trading in mountains for ocean!”
But judging from what I’ve seen, I traded in mountains for more mountains AND an ocean! And some lakes and rain and trees and fog and rolling hills and lobstah…
We took a lovely Sunday drive (how quaint!) down the peninsula to Port Clyde, a small village on the southern bit. Small as in, a fishing port and a restaurant/bar. Some nice houses full people trying to escape the bustle of the Maine coast in summertime. And at the very end, guiding boats into the protected harbors, is the Marshall Point Light Station.
Recognize it? You should. It’s the East Coast terminus of Forrest Gump’s cross-country run. Yes, *that* lighthouse. We found it by accident, really, driving around the back roads after having a beer at The Black Harpoon (a great fishermen’s bar, if you’re interested).
Every day is Buy a Bear a Beer Day in Norway!
Being beer travelers (aka those who plan destinations based on microbreweries to visit), we HAD to stop into the Mack Brewery in Tromsø when we visited in December 2007 (apparently right before the moved operations to Balsfjord). Because it never really got light in this city, nestled in between the mountains and the sea above the Arctic Circle, people started drinking early, as in noon. When we got there at 3 pm, not only was the bar packed to the gills, but we were the only Yanks in sight. Though everyone did get a kick out of our crazy American bear antics. If you go, be prepared for a $16 beer. No joke. And that isn’t the tourist price.
The fog is creeping in around the Fog Bar.
After a weekend of sweltering heat (air conditioners and fans are SOLD OUT in Rockland!), we’re back to a rather brisk 60. We haven’t tried this funky (trendy-casual?) bar yet, but it’s on our list!
Over-the-Rhine in Downtown Cincinnati, OH, has a long, rich, and often muddy history, a past of immigration, of social change and social distortion, of rises and falls and culture clashes and cultural reconciliation.
It’s here amid the brick and mortar that Cincinnati’s personality, a pasticcio of young and vintage, of Old World and New, of music and art and passion and violence and destitution and wealth, and of black and white and everything in between, really begins to shine.
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