One road looked good, so we followed it along the edge of the bay, and through the country, and came to a remarkable little town called Carstine. Established by the French about 1613, it was taken over by the English, and at one brief stage by the Dutch, and then the Americans. It now boasts a large Marine Academy which trains merchant seamen, and the academy sits in the middle of dozens of wooden "cottages" - large holiday homes built by the rich in the late 1800s and early 1900s. We asked at the local bookshop as to whether there might be any accommodation available - this is now "off season", and most places are closed for the winter - and were directed to the Manor Inn, a long double-storied building surrounded by several acres of grounds, overlooking the bay and the township. It was pouring rain when we arrived, and nearly dark, but in we went, and were welcomed heartily - the only guests for the night, but assured that there would be other locals present in the bar and dining room by dinner time.
We paid our US$135 and were directed to our room ... and talk about a time of wonder! It wasn't a room, it was a suite - and it was huge! The main room was 9 metres (28 feet) long and 6 metres wide (20 feet) and held a huge four poster bed, while at the other end was a large fireplace, furnished with a good supply of logs. There was a large couch, two large armchairs and two small, a writing desk and several antique cabinets - and there was still enough room to have held a party! To one side was the bathroom with a beautiful claw-foot bath, a large walk-in shower and modern toilet (commode for the Americans) and a black-marble topped vanity basin set into an antique bow-fronted cabinet. But there was yet more! At the far end of our bedroom, beside the fireplace, was a door, which led to a sunroom furnished with a full-size daybed, two chairs, and pots of plants, which had windows on 3 sides, overlooking the bay and the forest behind. Wow! This suite, it seems, had been the haven of a lady who had survived the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco and the fire which burnt the Fairmont Hotel where she was staying ... and who had, with her sister, also survived the sinking of the Titanic. How lucky can you be?
Suitably polished-up, we went down to the bar for a gin and tonic, and thus began the most fantastic evening with the locals. Sally and Fred, who have a farm in New Jersey and a holiday home at Carstine, adopted us, and we spent the evening with them, their young estate-agent friend Hank and Susie and Jess, who were both connected with libraries. We dined on a wonderful fish-and-tomato based chowder (no seafood for John!), crab cakes for Frances, chicken for John, and scrumptious desserts, while we all talked and laughed, and had a wonderful time, spinning yarns and enjoying one another's company. Everyone had something different to tell - Sally was an actress, Fred grew corn, Hank's father had been in the foreign service, Jess's parents were Jews from Poland and Romania, and Suzie told of how her she and her sister, tired of listening to a choir on the lawn of Kennedy's White House, went inside to look for 'Uncle Jack', her sister's god-father, and set off a security panic!
All this - and we had still to go up the stairs to our wonderful bed, to lie under the canopy and look at the flames in the fireplace, to sleep on feather pillows under a feather doona, and to wake with a view of the many islands and headlands in the bay. We love Maine, we loved Carstine, we loved the Manor Inn ... this was a travel experience par excellence, and a million miles from the image most people have of America ... definitely a 'Time of Wonder'!
