Change In Plans

This post is about Portland, Maine, where we have spent the last few days. Portland is officially the first stop on our world tour, so (as a family) we wanted to share some observations.

• Portland is a really terrific small city. It offers great lifestyle, a sophisticated but laid-back ethos, and a lot of natural beauty. The nightlife and culture are surprisingly robust. Overall, it seems like a wonderful place to live.
• Portlanders are crazy for the Red Sox, more so, it seems, even than in Boston itself. By observation, at least 30% of people on the streets had at least one Red Sox garment, and probably 10% had more than one. We felt undercommitted to the cause, and insufficiently supportive, with only one Red Sox hat amongst the four of us. We did have a lot of fun, playing baseball with Zola and his two cousins, in the park and on the beach. Maybe next time we can go see the Sea Dogs (the Sox minor-league franchise) play.
• There appears to be a “new” Portland of Prius-driving, Obama-voting locavores, and two “old” Portlands, one of rich, liberal Yankees and one of crusty old fishing/lobstering/maritime types. They all seem to like the Red Sox, and seem to co-exist peacefully. There is also (surprisingly) a huge community of Somali refugees. Portland is probably quite different from Mogadishu.
• The Whole Foods Market seems to be the white-hot epicenter of the “new” Portland. I had never really been in a WFM, so that was a big thrill. The shoppers seemed almost blissfully happy as they walked the aisles. As conventional wisdom posits, the meat and produce were great, and the processed foods were limited and off-brand. And it was breathtakingly expensive.
• The water seems like a central part of Portland culture. This may be a blinding glimpse of the obvious. At least during the summer, it seems that everyone we spoke to was fishing, or lobstering, or sailing, or taking a ferry to an island in Casco Bay, or just going to the beach. My9-year-old nephew, Andrew, is completely comfortable piloting a dinghy, baiting a lobster trap, crabbing, trolling for fish. It is a nice way to grow up.
• The whole old port, and parts of the waterfront up and down the coast, are built on acres of old wooden pilings, which are dark and cool and mysterious looking from the water. I wonder how long they last. I wonder if they are usually replaced with wood or with concrete, when the time comes.

Overall, everyone in the family gave Portland a big thumbs up. We had a great time with my sister and her family, and we felt well launched on the round-the-world venture. This morning, we are driving across the White Mountains to Lyme, New Hampshire, to see my Mom. Onward!