Our Connecticut host and dear pal Dan drove us into Manhattan

We installed in the Belvedere Hotel a second time. It is very conveniently close to the Theater District stages and the Midtown sites.

Our first museum was the 9/11 Memorial. Two hours is not enough and next time we give it a half day. The new World Trade Center tower is a pillar of tribute to the thousands lost to a day of infamy.

We met up with Mimi’s Santa Barbara painting pal Viviana for an upper West side Thai supper with vigorous creative cocktails.

The next day we meet again for a stroll through The Rambles of Central Park. Lunch at E.A.T. Cafe is a central casting Upper East Side quintessential New York moment overhearing about twenty languages and at least one table of ladies who lunch in perfect fashion down to the service dog lap dancer who could fit in a tea cup.

At the Met with spend much time with the Dutch masters which include three Vermeers.

That night our first play “Ain’t Too Proud” is a rocking good compilation of The Temptations hits.

A Nor’easter came to town the next day and we stole a morning walk around NYU before hiding from the rain with two plays, Hadestown and Betrayal.

We get in another museum, The Whitney, while rains are gone but high winds blow and keep us off The High Line.

We conclude our hobgobblin’ yankeedoodlin’ leafpeepin’ lobstacrackin’.

We’re in Bush Country

The panorama of their compound at Walker’s Point

Along the walk called Parson’s Way

The Episcopal Church

Wind sculptures of Lyman Whittaker

The Sea’s climax at the Spouting Rock

Lunch at The Hurricane overlooking the river

Art walk through the downtown galleries

Side trip to Olson House in Cushing

Where Andrew Wyeth painted Christina’s World

Worst meal in New England at Moody’s Diner in Waldoboro, could not be uneaten

Portland Art Museum

Special exhibition of N.C. Wyeth

His literary illustrations and his fine art painting

Not as disparate as he believed

Checking in at Kennebunkport Nonantum Resort

Where Maine House Republicans host a fundraiser

We feel like Resistance underground agents infiltrating behind enemy lines.

Walking in Rockland

The breakwater to the lighthouse

One mile out and one back

Solidarity seniors snap our shot

A big discovery in Rockland

The Farnsworth Gallery

Rooms of the Wyeths, N.C., Andrew and James

Andrew even funny at Halloween

James and pal Andy Warhol

Late afternoon walking Camden

And a wicked good feed at the Hartstone Inn.

From the Bar Harbor Inn.

Solace at Little Long Pond.

Acadia National Park is very well attended.

The Cadillac Mountain View is the peak attraction. The climb up is tough by car but we were caught in the Cadillac Challenge, a derby of cyclists who rode up in high cold winds.

At the top, the views are long down the coast, and 360 degrees around. A bus load of Chinese tourists are merrily laughing their faces off about something.

We attempted a few time to park at Jordan Pond but all lots were full. Driving to the south end of the park we find Little Long Pond, a place of solace, far from the maddening herd.

Mimi cracks open a lobster for lunch and declares the effort to yield ratio a net loser. It’s lobster rolls and lobster Mac n cheese ready made forward.

Before we exit Jackson we walk about another perfectly liveable New England hamlet. The flow from the falls courses over a rocky riverbed lined by hardwood trees in Amber, Gold and Crimson crowns. An early twentieth century modest public library and steepled white  church, a Union soldier statue and a bone yard short of Yankee perfection.

We roll north on 16 through White Mountains coated at near peak fire colors. Leefpeepers abound and curiously many are Indian families selfie shutter bugging, backs to the glorious view.

We cross into Maine and meander across the rural crossroads on to coastal Bar Harbor, with its downtown mobbed with the tourists cruising for lobster.

Checked into the upstanding Bar Harbor Inn, proud and bracing for all takers.

A short walk on the sunset lit shoreline, a dinner at the Cafe This Way where the Manhattan maker barman discloses a prior career as middle school band director, himself a Euphoniumist from Michigan.

Lobster Tikki Masala and a dining room in perfect attendance by gray haired or skin topped boomer hipsters who will get the sixties rock and roll table top quiz.

We enlist in The Swarm, the annual arrival of the invasion or the infestation of leaf tourists from around the world, even Peoria by bus. We are a few days before peak color but grand it already is. Our base in Jackson is a cozy Snowflake Inn with hosts Gary the Tall and Laconic and Sue the Soothing Concierge. She gets us in to dinner at Red Fox, a vast bar and grill with wood fired oven and seats for bus load.

The continental breakfast is not over groaning and the granola and homemade yogurt are mighty fine ( or do we say wicked good).

The tour begins on Highway 112 “the Kangamagus” with the Swift River running along side draining the southern edge of the White Mountains.

Lincoln makes for an adequate noon break. We head North along the West edge of the White Mountain National Forest.

We stop at The Mt. Washington Resort where the 1944 Bretton Woods Conference launched the post war world order of liberal democracy and free trade.

The Pie-Rats of the Coffeebean indulge again in a Blueberry cheesecake and espresso ice cream cake. Second day in a row of teeth rattling. The Live Free or Die New Englanders are not parsimonious with the sugar spoon.

The White Mountains are worth a journey, the resort would be the splurge to deprive an heir a fortune.

Portsmouth, New Hampshire sticks a toe out to touch the Atlantic, the only coastal contact for the slim but feisty state. It is a very charming and liveable small city well deserving high praise on some magazines ten best list. We visit several galleries wth loquacious hosts. The city supports small theater, multiple book stores, tourist grazing of many temptations and we have the monkfish sandwiches and an Octoberfest pint at the Portsmouth Brew Pub. We tour the Strawberry Banke museum buildings and visit a few sights on the Black Heritage Trail. Then we fuel up with a massive sugar ingest at Popovers by the steepled church and set out for Jackson.

Update October 3.
We are back from Paris.
The blog is missing a week because we were based in a rural farmhouse without internet. That was somewhat of a gift but I will need some time after jet lag to update the journal.
More to come.
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