The next morning found us pulling into Bar Harbor, Maine. This was a tender port and I'd read that tendering off a huge ship like the Anthem could take hours. Prior to taking the cruise, we'd decided to explore each port on our own, meaning no excursions booked and no priority tendering status. I'd missed the line-up the day before for obtaining a tender ticket, so Grant and I found ourselves in one of the lounges with the rest of the unwashed masses looking for a tender ticket with the lowest number. We were assigned tender ticket number twenty-two. Surprisingly, the wait didn't extend into the afternoon and we were motoring our way shoreward by a little after 9:00 a.m.
Let me back up for a sec and mention just how beautiful this area is and how much Grant and I would like to visit it again. I like to get up early as we pull into port and see the town in the early morning light. This day did not disappoint.
We were starting to get hungry and as the weather was turning angry we wanted to find a place to get out of the rain. We stumbled across Jordan's Restaurant, which was packed with a line out the door. The hostess took our names and assured us the wait wouldn't be long. As more people arrived and crowded the door I feared we'd get lost in the shuffle. No worries as the hostess came outside, found us, and led us to a both opposite the cook station.
The place was jumping! The cook, a towering man I assumed was once an Army cook, judging by his cap, never once looked at an order ticket. Wait staff swung by, called out orders in a strange code, and the cook didn't miss a beat. Plates weighted down with food left that kitchen in record speed.
I got a bowl of clam chowdah (purposely misspelled, mind you) and Grant got a burger, both sided with steaming cups of great coffee. We only ate lunch so we could justify dessert, a wonderful slab of blueberry pie a la mode.
After lunch we made our way back to Bar Harbor Popcorn, passing this team of horses. It was the stinkiest team I'd ever encountered and it took me a minute to realize each horse had a canvas catch pouch situated under their tails. It kept the streets clean, but the smell wafting over the driver and passengers was horrible.
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Let me back up for a sec and mention just how beautiful this area is and how much Grant and I would like to visit it again. I like to get up early as we pull into port and see the town in the early morning light. This day did not disappoint.
The tenders were provided by local watermen and the process went pretty danged quick..until it was our turn. A man with ticket #22 got separated from his wife. He insisted on holding up the tender until he wife caught up with him. We were all on board waiting for him (and his wife) and the wait became endless. He finally relented and off we went, this after the boat captain saying he got paid by the day and wasn't in a hurry at all.
Grant and I tendered in a boat like this, sitting upstairs in the wind.
In the tender heading to shore
Getting off the tender, we turned left and wandered along the waterfront, taking pictures and soaking in the sea air. I'd printed out the Bar Harbor Walking Map prior to leaving California and this came in quite handy. We followed the Shore Path Route, meandering for 2 miles along the shore and through town.
Turning right off the trail, we walked into town, meandering past homes and churches and businesses. Having a nose for food, I nearly ran into Grant as we walked past Bar Harbor Popcorn. It wasn't quite 11 o'clock so the store wasn't open. The door was cracked and I could hear the employees inside preparing for the day. I would be back!
We continued through town and stopped at a church with an old graveyard attached. I don't know what it is about me and graveyards, but I find them fascinating. St Saviour's Church is an Episcopal church dating from the 1870s. C. C. Haight built the church and he and his heirs are buried on the grounds.
The place was jumping! The cook, a towering man I assumed was once an Army cook, judging by his cap, never once looked at an order ticket. Wait staff swung by, called out orders in a strange code, and the cook didn't miss a beat. Plates weighted down with food left that kitchen in record speed.
I got a bowl of clam chowdah (purposely misspelled, mind you) and Grant got a burger, both sided with steaming cups of great coffee. We only ate lunch so we could justify dessert, a wonderful slab of blueberry pie a la mode.
After lunch we made our way back to Bar Harbor Popcorn, passing this team of horses. It was the stinkiest team I'd ever encountered and it took me a minute to realize each horse had a canvas catch pouch situated under their tails. It kept the streets clean, but the smell wafting over the driver and passengers was horrible.
After locating a couple of energy drinks and armed with a large tub of popcorn (mixed salty-sweet and caramel), we made our way back to the tender and on to the ship. As we pulled away from port, the fog rolled in. I spent the night listening to the periodic blast of the ship's horn through the pea soup that was the fog. Between that and the whistling winds across our balcony and it was a restless night. I wouldn't have it any other way.
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