Maine - Part 3

With just a short layover in Boston there was always some concern that his luggage would not make it and we are delighted to report that concern was well founded. It is not entirely clear if the plane was too small to carry his stuff (and it was very small (not as small as the converted bomber he once took from Jersey to Guernsey but not far off)) or if they just couldn’t be bothered but in either happy circumstance the luggage reclaim area at Bar Harbour (not the world’s largest airport) was distinctly empty of his kit (and it was not as if there were any nooks and crannies for it to hide in – the area is a 6 foot by 3 foot roped off area).

With the appropriate forms filled in (although in light of the fact that he packed drunk he was not able to shed much light to answer the question “what is in your bag”) he hopped in the splendid Mayur’s car (who had come to pick him up very generously) and ended up at his hotel.

He is staying at the Claremont and your correspondent is not sure how best to describe it but perhaps fading probably best sums it up, alternatively The Shining meets Pet Cemetery.
It is however right on the water and has some fantastic views.



Having freshened up, as far as one can with no baggage, he headed into town to hook up with the happy couple (to be) and their families (as well as the splendid Walkup) for supper at a restaurant with singing waitresses (not at all weird) and a supper of lobster.

As the only Brit there he felt compelled to play the clown, his mother would be proud.