Sanford to Dexter, ME

Saturday, July 17^th, 2010 – Day 4: Sanford, ME to Dexter, ME

On the day that we decided to take this trip to Maine, I sat down and wrote a quick note to Mrs. Sullivan, my second grade teacher when I lived in South Berwick, ME. She still teaches and lives in Maine, and we had remained occasional pen pals ever since I moved. I asked in my letter if she had any time for a quick visit and she responded with an enthusiastic phone call on the day she received the letter. So on this Saturday morning, Tara and I made the 25 minute drive to South Berwick from Sanford, passed by the Central School where I attended 1^st and 2^nd grades, drove through the “Old Mill” neighborhood of my youth, and arrived at Mrs. Sullivan’s house 10 minutes early for brunch. She cooked an outstanding blueberry French toast casserole, and over food and coffee we shared our respective stories for over two hours.

Following brunch, we chartered a circuitous route to Dexter, ME through Rockland, ME. Rockland was the home of my Great-Uncle Gus and Aunt Kath, and my family would visit from time to time in my youth, exploring their expansive house, helping to pull weeds in the garden, and playing a little golf. Along the way, we stopped first for a little lunch on a wharf in Wiscasset (crab roll for Tara and a lightly fried haddock sandwich for me), and then at a few of the innumerable antique stores that dot Route 1. At one of these stores we heard tale of a mythical antique store called Elmer’s Barn that is said to have 4 stories and barely enough room to walkthrough, and might be located on Route 17 somewhere between Union and the Atlantic Ocean. We decided not to look for it this day as it was nearing 3 in the afternoon, but kept it as a possible quest after Acadia.

The drive to Dexter was pleasant and easy along the two way roads and over the hills as we reached deeper into the woods of Maine. On the first day of the trip I had received a call from Mark, the proprietor of The Brewster Inn, during which he confirmed our reservations at his Bed and Breakfast and we established an estimated time of arrival. What struck me most about this conversation was Mark’s extreme and indescribable accent that I then attributed to all Northern Maine-iacs (Maine-ians? Maine-ites? Mainers?). It was with some relief upon entry to The Brewster Inn to find that Mark is from England and he has a slight lisp and tongue thrust on his S’s. Suddenly his accent made perfect sense. After taking our bags to the room, Mark directed us to Angler’s restaurant for our first true seafood dinner of the trip (Tara enjoyed a 1 ½ pound lobster and I had broiled haddock and scallops), for a fair in-land price (about $5 less per plate than on the coast). Following a brief walk around the Inn upon our return, we retired to our comfortable, cool, and quiet room.

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