The gulls were certainly not quiet about their opinion of my ship’s arrival in Portland this morning. If I had still been asleep their loudly voice complaints regarding intruders who stirred up waters without providing recompense in fish would have woken me. Not creating any feelings of guilt. Gulls like pigeons are simply large flying vermin. But the certainly have, and are, entitled to an opinion or twenty. I headed out of the ship early and found a coffee shop that had both an excellent mocha and fast wifi until the rest of the horde managed to be dressed, fed and off the ship. At that point connectivity went down to why bother and I decided to head out for the Portland Museum of Art.
My first foray into Google Maps told me that my trip by car was going to be well over a day and involving 3800+ miles. ??? Ok, it really helps to add “Maine” to the search engine. The fact that Google rates Oregon higher than Maine should not have been a surprise but was more than a bit annoying. Saving my little map on the phone as a photo to save my daily data limit I happily charged off. It looked really easy. Which is why it should come as no surprise to any of us that I managed to find the one perpendicular street to Spring that crossed without any signage. About 30 minutes later and a hike over several hills I finally asked for directions. “Several blocks too far” I was told by a pleasant but taciturn man. He pointed toward uphill and said to work my way back toward the harbor. I found Center Street and Congress, followed Center to Spring. Spring to High Street which took me back to High Street/Congress Street/Free Street about three blocks from my last sign check.
Museum was on the corner, just where it was the last time I was here. Duh!
Isobel and I managed to find each other, a local used book store and a lovely coffee shop. Ann & Ira bailed us out about an hour and a half later. As it turns out, there is a steamboat on one of the Piers which has been turned into a restaurant. We had a fabulous lunch and hung out talking most of the afternoon.
I am headed back to the ship, everyone else on their way home: could be New Hampshire or Maine. Let me skip the part about almost letting them take off without emptying out the presents in my backpack. Obviously Isobel needs yarn and Ann & Ira need towels!