We spent a third and final day in Bar Harbor, using the time to do a bit of t-shirt shopping, to stroll around in the sun and to go for a drive around Acadia National Park, stopping off at a place called Thunder Hole, the top of Cadillac Mountain (again), a beach cleverly named Sandy Beach, and a nice lake.
Later we ate some food with lots of calories, salt and fats and then went out to a bar for beer. I got ID’d for the fifth time on the trip, and by this point I was seriously considering dying my hair grey, painting some wrinkles and liver spots on my brow, wearing an “I remember World War I” badge on my shirt, and walking into the next bar explaining loudly how I designed the original Sopwith Camel in 1917.
We met a waitress who was born in the UK and had also spent time studying in Devon. She owned a house there too, but didn’t seem particularly interested in having sex with either of us.
The bar seemed to die down pretty quickly and we left at about 10 p.m. and returned to the motel. This was getting a bit depressing now, but that would all change tomorrow because we’d be in the big smoke: Portland. Well, the medium smoke, at least.