Well,
we are now in the United States, at the old resort town of Bar Harbor, in
Maine. This close-up of a t-shirt in a
window clarifies the proper pronunciation of this name with an appropriate
Down-East New England accent:
As a footnote, the island was originally called "Ile des monts deserts" (Island of Barren Mountains) by Champlain. The locals still use the French pronunciation, with the emphasis on the last syllable of "Desert" as if the word were "dessert".
The famous billionaire, John D. Rockefeller, and
others not only built summer homes here, and encouraged their friends and
fellow plutocrats to do the same, but also saw to it that the beautiful natural
environment of Mount Desert Island was largely preserved. A number of wealthy property owners donated the land for Acadia National Park. In particular, Rockefeller built a network of carriage
roads through the woods of the island, a network which remains to this day
completely separate from the automobile roads that followed. The carriage roads are usable only by
pedestrians, cyclists (non-motorized), and, of course, by horse-drawn
carriages. The segments of carriage road
outside
the National Park are even closed to cyclists, thanks to a couple of
cyclists who were rude to the owner of the private property through which the
road passed.
Apart
from the town of Bar Harbor proper, a large portion of the island, and several
adjacent smaller islands, are contained in Acadia National Park, which
continues the original vision of nature preserved.
The
environment here reminds me of nothing quite so much as the area around my old
home town of Elliot Lake. The mountains
and forests certainly draw the parallel, and there are still some fall colours
here.
Meanwhile,
in the town, there’s a unique architectural mix of traditional New England with
big money dignity, a mix which makes simply walking the streets
fascinating. And of course, like any
resort town, there’s a huge and diverse community of stores, art galleries,
eateries and drinkeries, and much more.
This
is the first time since September 11, 2001, that I’ve entered the USA on a
cruise ship that was going to make further stops before reaching its American final
destination. Back in the 1990s, we
simply gave our destination information before boarding and that was it – when
we reached our first American stop (Ketchikan, Alaska), we just walked off the
ship. Not any more. Now, U. S. Immigration authorities boarded as
soon as we came to anchor offshore, and interviewed every single passenger of
the ship. There were two main rooms
being used, one for U. S. Citizens, and one for all others. The interviews began at 0700, and I was right
there ahead of time, but even with a wait of some 20 minutes I still had ample
time to take my passport back to my cabin and then meet my tour party at 0745.
First,
the bad news. Cadillac Mountain, the
highest peak of eight on the island, was sacked in with fog. Our bus tour went up there first, and the
view was limited only by our imaginations (translation: zero visibility). By the time I got back to the ship at noon,
the sky remained cloudy but the mountaintop was now in the clear. Moral: take an afternoon tour in Bar Harbor!
The
other helpful hint: if your tour is going to drive the circle road through the
National Park, most of the really spectacular views will be on the left side
of the bus. It’s easy to state that with
absolute authority as most of the circle road is one way only – clockwise. Moral: sit on the left side!
So,
here is a selection of pictures from today’s adventures. First, a pair of trees contorted by the fierce Atlantic coast weather at the summit of Cadillac Mountain.
A
meadow and stream with reflections.
A
stone gateway guarding the entrance to one of the carriage roads.
A
typical streetscape in town.
Necessary
stonework repairs on a dignified church.
A
large old “cottage” (summer home of a well-to-do family) converted into a bed and
breakfast inn (there are many of these in the town).
My mansion is bigger than your mansion!
My mansion is bigger than your mansion!
Big, old money built the summer resort at Bar Harbor in Maine, and its signs are still to be seen everywhere amid some of the most beautiful natural scenery on the Atlantic coast.
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