Isn’t there a movie where Maurice Chevalier sings about Maine’s industrial seaport?
Anyway, hitting the road for a week to eat marine life and boo the Yankees. So the mantraps have been set and the pride of lions released from their cages at our house. I have never taken more than a long weekend in the spring and certainly never gone south in the winter – being albino between the freckles it is a bit pointless – so I am looking forward to some version of that beach life even if a bit chillier. Beach.
Update: for my pal Michael – this is a mantrap.
Update #2: [Some road notes that you probably do not need to care much about.] As sweet a six hour drives as you would want with little people to Holyoke MA and the Holiday Inn: 401 to I-81 to NYS Thruway to Mass Turnpike to I-91. We were here before and I will pay for a little time passing since refurbishment as long as there is a good indoor pool. Ninety-nine bucks. The Mohawk Valley is quite a something and around Little Falls there steep incline in the highway for six miles that makes me wonder about those poor saps that actually built the Erie Canal. WRVO Oswego NPR is audible from Kingston to halfway between Utica and Albany – 350 km or so. I bought some instant grits to bring home even though AA Gill described it as something like the throw-up of someone else’s child. Also Friendly’s never disappoints and never surprises. If you think sugar is a poison you probably should not go. Not that there is much sugar but I’d have to put up listening to you bitch about everything else as I ate a few booths over.