Today, Kris and I walked what is claimed to be "the prettiest walk in the world." No, really, there's a claim to this walk:

The thought is that there are views of the Penobscot Harbor on one side, and views of Lily Pond on the other, and trees and beautiful houses the whole way, so this must be the prettiest walk anyway.

While it is lovely, the "in the world" part has yet to be determined. We have more walks to do before that can happen.

We started out late for a walk. The walk is supposed to be two miles down, so we didn't expect it to take more than forty-five minutes or so, except that, well, we kinda forgot to include wandering time, time to take pictures, oh, look, public restrooms!, and, well, every other reason to wander instead of hustling through the walk. So, the 45 minute walk took us an hour and a half.

The walk goes through Rockport, which we had to drive to, as we're staying in Rockland, a distinction I've only recently figured out. There are often two cities with common name beginnings Rock for Rockland and Rockport, with the port one being near the water and the land/ville/town being nominally inland, but sometimes not.

So, through Rockland, out of town, around the corner, where we met several people in their yards working, happily greeting us as we walked by, and down the street. The street curves around Lily Pond, one of the ponds used for fresh water ice harvesting at the turn of the last century.

Oh, and we did pass the "famous" Galloway Cows, mentioned in the guide book.

The road is nominally flat, with a slight incline. At one point, we walked upon the Sea View Cemetery. Now, Kris has this thing, a superstition of sorts where he says you have to hold your breath as you pass a cemetery, or that's where you'll end up buried. Normally, we're driving by the cemetery when this little habit of holding his breath comes up. I mean, there are only so many cemeteries a person can be buried at (BTW, harvest what you can from my body, burn the rest, mix the ashes into some clay soil and let me help nourish the soil, please don't bury my body in a box, or store it in a crypt, it's too wasteful), and you're going to die some day anyway, so why bother with the breath holding?

Especially when you're walking by.

We didn't make it past this cemetary. Not even halfway with the road slightly uphill.

Around 2:00, we strolled into Camden and managed the lay of the land. I had my first crab roll sandwich, it being less expensive than the lobster roll sandwich, and completely delicious.

I noticed my legs were a little achy at lunch, but, well, it was still before 3 in the afternoon, so we continued up the road to visit the Norumbega Inn, a strange structure (in retrospect), that consists of "the best architectual features" Joseph Stearns liked when he built the place in 1886 after travelling the world. It reminded me of the Winchester Mystery House.

We started back, walking back through Camden and stopping at the harbor to check things out.

Kris has been talking about going on a two week schooner cruise, where everyone works on the boat. I asked Andy if he wanted to go, because I have exactly zero desire to go. Andy expressed interest, which is good. Kris had concerns about getting seasick, as the last time we went on a boat (crap, like 9 years ago?), he was sick, but he had also swallowed a gallon of salt water, which I think caused him to feed the fishes.

Being curious, he inquired about a two hour bay cruise for tomorrow from a boat with a table on the Camden Harbor dock, while I was off using the public restroom emptying the world's smallest bladder. So, there's a good chance we'll be doing that this week.

The walk back was much quicker than I expected it to be. When we came upon the cemetery on the way back, the road being a downhill walk in this direction, I challenged Kris to pass it while holding his breathe. He laughed, and said no, but thought about it again when I offered to carry the backpack. He took the challege, and started hyperventilating.

He started down the road at a light jog, and started sprinting about 2/3 of the way. I asked him about it. He said that he was trying to weigh using up oxygen by running too fast with the time it took to run. When his lungs started burning, he started sprinting, but made it!

Turns out, also on the way back is a golf course.

Given my previous mischief, no one should be surprised that I jumped on this golf course, too.

Eventually, we made it back to Rockport-not-Rockland.

There's a park next to the Rockland Harbor. To my surprise, when we passed through it, Kris asked for the camera. "Sit there," he said, pointing at the bench, "and read a book."

"Uh, I don't have a book, I have my ipad."

"Same thing."

Same thing, indeed. I think the picture turned out well.

I look like my Mom.

Maine, as far as I can tell, is full of irony.

Take, for example, items from the menu from yesterday's breakfast/lunch:

That's right, items on the menu are served all day, but not after 11am.

On today's walk, we passed Sea View Cemetery:

Look carefully in that picture. Do you see any sea in view of the cemetery?

No?

Neither did I.

So, yeah, Maine loves her irony.

I swear, there are more lilacs here than any person could (would!) possibly want to sniff, and that statement includes my mom.

At dinner tonight, we sat at the bar. The barkeep seemed a bit frazzled, and poured Kris a bit more than the shot he ordered. It was the equivalent of maybe three or four shots.

Kris and I walked out to the lighthouse to get in my 10000 steps today. We walked out the front gate of the resort, down the street, turned left and walked down the long street to the lighthouse, only to realize the lighthouse backs up to the bay side of the resort and the direct path was about 1/10 as long.

Whoops.

Out along the breakwater, the walk to the lighthouse is 4300 ft long. The granite blocks are fun to walk along, and the distance very misleading.

It was a good walk. Managed 14000 steps instead.