Remember a few weeks back how I said that Steve and I don’t have regular schedules, therefore rarely spend time together other than having dinner at 10:00 pm? We agreed it was high time to fix that and decided to go away for a weekend. Which for us, meant Sunday-Tuesday.
We decided to get away for a few days somewhere cheap (thank you, Groupon, for allowing poor folk everywhere to get hotel rooms and go out to dinner for pennies while making us feel fancy), close (because it doesn’t matter how inexpensive the room is if you can’t afford the gas to get there) and with the perfect mix of activities (for him, obviously) and relaxation (for this girl right here).
So of course, we went to Maine!
Now Steve and I have very different ideas of what a Maine getaway should be. I grew up going to Old Orchard and York Beach, so I have an affinity for boardwalks, day trips to outlet malls, and as my mother calls it, “honkey tonk.”
Steve prefers places that claim to be part of “America” but are really moonlighting as Canada.
So we met in the middle/wherever Groupon would guide us. Which was Brunswick.
We arrived first at the lovely Captain Daniel Stone Inn. You’re going to have to take my word for it, because I didn’t take a single picture of the hotel room, because the second I opened my suitcase it exploded and the room looked like a disaster until 10:59 Tuesday morning. I did appreciate the fact that they were rocking it old school giving us an actual key. When was the last time you even saw one of these at a hotel?!
Later, we called my friend Amy and basically invited ourselves over for dinner, which she and her husband were totally fine with because we hadn’t seen them since their wedding last October. You may remember their nuptials because it inspired the only episode I’ve ever suffered of a fear related exercise routine in order to fit into a certain bridesmaid dress for their wedding.
The next day, we embarked on our Maine adventure. It began in what I guess you would call the “downtown” area of Brunswick where we discovered our new obsession: The Wild Oats Bakery. In case you were wondering, myfitnesspal was not invited on this vacation. Because everywhere we looked, we saw this:
I was in a food coma and I hadn’t even eaten anything yet. We quickly decided that we would enjoy breakfast that day, come back for lunch tomorrow and also get desserts for the ride home. Hello, vacation.
I settled on a cinnamon bun the size of my head. I also fed my brain with some classic 80’s Trivial Pursuit that they provided on every table.
From there we continued on to… Bath. Yes, this is an actual town. Actually, it reminds me more of a village. I can tell the difference, as I went to college in a village for a year and a half (shoutout, Cazenovia!). Remember Stars Hollow, the beloved fake town that provided the perfect setting for a plethora of mother/daughter shenanigans on Gilmore Girls? It was like but without all the teen mothers. At least I assume so. It was cold and rainy, so Main Street wasn’t exactly teeming with locals. It was cute though, so I took advantage of all the quaint photo ops.
Bath is known for making boats and iron working. So of course they had their very own Maine Maritime Museum. At first, I was totally gung-ho for this because believe it or not, I actually do like history. Not like, Steve’s level of history, but it was one of my favorite subjects in high school. Plus, I could only imagine the sheer amount of nautical artifacts.
This may have been a mistake. Steve warned me that he couldn’t just go into a museum like a normal person. I already knew this, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to throw a little culture into this trip.
Three hours, one hundred and twenty eight pictures and one very grumbly stomach later, we finally left. There were some things that were really cool. You know, if you like fish and boats and stuff.
|signed by two presidents. fo real.
|that thing on the right is from the front of an actual boat. also it probably has a real name.
|steve said he wants this above our bed. like i can handle that after the ship wheel.
But there was also a lot of reading. And wandering. I tried really hard be a historically supportive wife. I tried for every store I’ve ever dragged him to, for every Reese Witherspoon movie I made him take me to see in the theater. But after a while I sort of gave up on the exhibits and just started taking pictures of nautical elements that could someday be framed to compliment a certain couple’s bedroom. Or something.
While part of me died and went to nautical heaven, Steve was the one who was really in all his glory.
But his excitement didn’t end there. Up next- our excursion to the motherland:
Stay tuned! I may have even donned some flannel for the occasion.