Over the Hill and Far Away……….

After posting the blog last night we took ourselves off into central Portsmouth. We called a taxi from the hotel and got dropped off near the harbour outside a seafood restaurant called “Surf”. On the way in we had to wait for the bridge to lift to let a ship go downriver. The bridge turned out to be one where the centre section is lifted vertically just like the Newport bridge back in Middlesbrough. It made us feel very much at home!

All the bars and restaurants in town were packed because Portsmouth had put back its 4th July celebrations until 5th July to avoid the rain but we managed to get a table with a view over the harbour after only a short wait. We had a variety of seafood, which in my case involved a three storey platter of raw bits of various seagoing things, some recognisable, some not. Our main course was a Portuguese fish and shellfish stew which was delicious and for once was not ridiculously huge.

After the meal we walked up the street to watch the very impressive fireworks display. We were joined in this by the entire population of the town and probably much of the surrounding area. Once the fireworks ended the town was totally gridlocked as everyone tried to get out at the same time and we found to our dismay that there was no chance of getting a taxi back to the hotel! After exploring, and rejecting, various options such as stealing a car or getting arrested and passing the night in the cells, we finally set off walking back relying on Google Earth to guide us. In fact it turned out not to be too far back (probably about 3 miles) and we did it in 40 minutes and arrived back feeling extremely virtuous if perhaps a little sweaty. 

Looking at the news this morning we realised that we had narrowly avoided the landfall of Hurricane Arthur, which has been methodically  trashing all the places that we visited in Canada only a few days ago. Our friends Margo and Walt have had some of their trees blown down and generally it seems to have been quite rough up there. Hopefully the local bear population has escaped unscathed, as they have suffered enough recently. 

For us however, the weather has been very kind. The temperatures were in the 80s again as we slowly crawled down Route 1 to Boston. The traffic wasn’t as bad as yesterday and a lot of it seemed to be heading in the opposite direction so we had a reasonable journey but it still took us about two hours to cover 45 miles. The last few miles into Boston were a bit unnerving, with heavy traffic and a not particularly well signposted route. Nevertheless we managed to get the bikes back to Eagle Rider without incident.

It was quite difficult parting a tearful Mark from his beloved Harley but I eventually managed to get him into a taxi with the promise of beer downtown and not long later we were trying to check into the Marriott Hotel. This was slightly reminiscent of the hotel we stayed at in Vegas except for the absence of a half-scale model of the Eiffel Tower in the lobby. 

As it turned out we had arrived two hours too early for the 4pm check-in and unless we were prepared to have a room where we could share a king-sized bed we had to find some way of killing a couple of hours until our room was ready. The hotel was very helpful and we were able to shower and change in the “health club”. This was a little disconcerting when we walked in, as the first thing that we encountered was  a motionless, contorted body on a mat by the door. However this turned out to be nothing more sinister than an elderly man doing some sort of yogic stretching routine. The rest of the place seemed to be full of very earnest looking people running far too fast on treadmills. After changing there, we resisted the temptation to exercise and returned to reception where we left our luggage at the “bell station” and then meandered into town.

We walked through the park to the “Cheers” bar which, apart from the exterior, doesn’t really resemble the one portrayed in the TV series. In fact it appeared to be a somewhat cheerless “Cheers” at first, although after a couple of beers it did start to look a lot more attractive, albeit still rather resembling a tee-shirt shop with beer taps. Mark got talking to the couple from Tennessee who were sitting next to us at the bar and the man was apparently a “recording artist” who had performed at Wembley in the 1980s. Unfortunately we forgot to ask who he was! 

We then went back to the hotel, changed and sallied out again. We’ve since had some generously proportioned hamburgers for tea and will soon be settling down for a night’s sleep in preparation for some serious sightseeing tomorrow (our last full day over here).

We awoke reasonably early this morning and had time for a leisurely breakfast, which was somewhat spoilt for me by my mistaking custard for mayonnaise and liberally spreading it on my egg. 

On checking out Mark actually had the cheek to complain about the smell in our room this morning (although in fairness the stench was even more fetidly evil than usual – due apparently to the damp weather and the total lack of ventilation). 

We also bumped into a member of staff who was yet another Indian fan and started rambling on about the merits of American bikes. It was just after him saying that his favourite “bike” was a three-wheeler with two wheels at the front that Mark finally snapped. By the time I pulled Mark away, the other guy wasn’t looking too good so we hid him under a pile of towels and swiftly rode out. 

As we had plenty of time we decided to take Highway 1 down the coast rather than the faster but less interesting Interstate 95 that runs parallel slightly further inland. We consequently found ourselves in a 40-mile holiday traffic jam which crawled through the main streets and traffic lights of several coastal towns. We passed through Scarborough and Biddeford before stopping off in Kennebunk. The Bush family have a holiday home at Kennebunkport which is nearby but closer to the coast. We looked out for them but they didn’t seem to be about. Kennebunk itself is a long-established prosperous community which appears to have rather more banks, doctors and lawyers than would appear to be strictly necessary for a town that size. It also boasts some interesting houses dating back to the 1700s. There is also the “Brick Store Museum” which we conjectured might be a museum dedicated to bricks but were disappointed to find is in fact a museum that just happens to be located in one of the first local buildings to be built out of brick.

While in Kennebunk we also noticed a lot of police and fire trucks passing through with sirens sounding.

After leaving there we continued to make very slow progress through pretty little towns like Wells where a plethora of antique shops vie for attention with numerous craft shops and small businesses with twee names like “Brewed Awakening” (a coffee shop). There was about the same volume of traffic coming the other way with a large number of hairy, grizzled individuals on the inevitable Harleys, all of whom were probably lawyers, dentists and realtors out for their weekend ride. They tended to ignore us, and we them, although occasionally one would throw a sneaky last-minute low five which left us feeling guilty when we hadn’t had time to respond!

The traffic finally started to clear about 40 miles out of Portland around a place called Ogunquit but just after there we found out where all the emergency vehicles had been going, as we were diverted round a fairly nasty crash scene. It looked like one car had crashed at speed into the back of another but fortunately there was no sign that there had been any serious injuries. We did however feel probably more uneasy on this ride than on any other as, despite the slow speed, people seemed to be driving more aggressively and carelessly than usual.  

We eventually arrived in Portsmouth at 1.50pm having taken nearly three hours to cover 55 miles. However the weather had been kind to us and the ride hadn’t been too bad apart from the constant stopping and starting . We both also now have bulging left biceps from constantly squeezing the clutch lever.

We checked into our hotel and then walked  down the road a short way to a bar-restaurant where we washed the dust from our throats and engaged in fierce hand-to-hand combat with two of the largest sandwiches we have ever seen. We are now about to get a taxi into town to have a look around. It is possible that the consumption of beer and seafood may also be on the agenda.