whizbangworld: Portland, Maine

I’ve wanted to return to Maine for some time. I’m hopeful the leaves are still on the trees. One of my most memorable sights was approaching Bangor by air a few years ago in October. The maple trees were brilliant with red, yellow, and orange leaves in the late afternoon sunlight. I’ve never seen anything that brilliant before or since.

Fortunately, even though the prime time was probably two weeks earlier, many of the leaves are still on the trees. A driver picks me up at the airport to take me to the Portland Regency Hotel in the Old Port District. The hotel is a former Armory built in 1895. The rooms are appointed nicely and the staff very professional. A brick street roundabout in front of the hotel along with the surrounding period buildings complete the experience of being in an old, historic neighborhood.

After checking in to the hotel, I have a cab called to take me to the venue. After ten minutes of driving, we arrive at the venue where the show was going to be. I call, get the address of where the show really is and head in the right direction. The driver is a friendly guy who kindly and voluntarily clears the meter and gives me a fresh start. He is typical of the nice folks I meet in Portland.

Following the show, it’s a late night at Denny’s with all of the bands and people from the show eating breakfast and telling stories until 1:30 a.m.

The next morning, I have some explore time before my flight. It’s chilly and overcast, cold enough to need a warm coat and earmuffs. There are nice shops in this part of the city tucked in mostly late 1800’s, early 1900’s buildings. The influence of the French makes itself apparent in some of the architecture. The sea, of course, shows its influence. The weather vane on top of city hall is of a sailing shape covered in gold leaf.

After going up and down the streets of the Old Port district, I head toward the docks to see the real work of the lobster business. After walking down a gravel road between a row of old buildings, I come across this lobster pound. Inside, restaurateurs and chefs shop for seafood, a half dozen men with long knives fillet buckets of fish, and this gentleman is sorting lobsters by weight. Almost all he sorts by sight. Every now and then he’ll set on on the scale that’s too close to call.

After leaving the shop, I head closer to the water. At the water’s edge, I see a light haired sea lion come to the surface and arch back out into the water out of sight. I then look up and see this lobster boat coming in to the harbor.