Maine (a.k.a. Western Ireland!)

Maine beckoned and we followed. Donna and I recently visited for the first time the beautiful Pine Tree State to do some hiking in Acadia National Park and experience the quaint fishing villages that dot the famously rocky coastline. We coupled our Maine odyssey with a quick stop in historic Boston so we could catch a Red Sox game at the revered Fenway Park. (Editor’s note: The author really means so he could go to Fenway, a bucket-list item; his wife was happy to tag along.)

Maine reminded us of one of our favorite places – the west coast of Ireland. Like Ireland, Maine is largely undeveloped (a whopping 90% of the state is forested) and is sparsely populated. The extensive coastline – longer than California’s – is buffeted by the same Northern Atlantic Ocean. As you would expect, fishing (and lobstering) has been a major part of the state’s economy for centuries, as in Ireland. Note: In Bar Harbor, we had a meal in Paddy's, which claims to be America's closest Irish pub to Ireland herself.

We flew to Bangor, picked up our rental car in the tiny, languid airport, and drove an hour and a half through pine forests on small, uncluttered rural roads to a hiker-centric motel in Bar Harbor, one of the hundreds of inns, lodges, motels and hotels in the tourist town. There is a like number of vendors selling lobster rolls (which are delicious).

Acadia National Park

Based on a recommendation from our son-in-law Andrew, we spent our first morning hiking to the top of Cadillac Mountain, which he had done with his family as a teenager.

The mountain, at 1,530 feet, is made of granite, as is most all the terrain in Maine (and the rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain); the hard unforgiving floor, along with the non-stop incline, frequent scrambles up bare rock, and steep steps all take a toll on feet and knees.

But what an incredible hike! The weather was ideal and the views of the ocean and pine groves were enchanting when we could take our eyes off the treacherous trail to look up and take them in. It took us a couple hours to reach the summit, which gives you a breathtaking, nearly 360-degree view of the Atlantic and the town of Bar Harbor far below while a brisk, salt-laden wind whips at you.

There is a road from the bottom of the park to a parking lot at the top, so we had to share the summit with hundreds of non-hikers who had arrived without exertion by tour bus and private car. Cheaters! But no matter; after a short rest, bio break and refilling our water bottles, we trekked down the nearly empty trail, marveling at the quiet. Soon enough, we will be among those who trade hiking boots for tour-bus tickets, hence our hectic pace to do as much strenuous outdoor activity as we can while we can. As my mother used to cryptically say, it's later than you think.

The next morning we woke early, in time to behold a spectacular sunrise over the ocean from our room. Feeling the effects of the beating our bodies had taken the day before, we decided to take the easier, flatter Ocean Trail that offers views of the sea nearly the entire 2-mile stretch from Sand Beach to Otter Cove.

The trail takes you right along the coastline, 20 or so yards above it. The wicked, angry ocean explodes on the jagged granite rocks below with every powerful wave, creating fountains of water that erupt like volcanic lava. We wondered how the pilots of small lobster boats managed to reach their pots, whose buoys danced very close to the tumultuous crashing water, without getting slammed against the rocks. Like getting to Carnegie Hall: practice, practice, practice.

The smell of the salt air on the trail is exhilarating; on a few occasions, the trail would take us into a pine forest, and the commingled scent of the ocean and pine needles was intoxicating.

Kennebunkport

The next day we packed up and drove down to Kennebunkport. Again, the drive was leisurely and scenic. Like in Ireland, picturesque villages on the sea or rivers straddled the little road – Bucksport, Belfast(!), Northport, Lincolnville, and beautiful Camden, where we stopped for lunch and walked along its pretty streets and harbor.

We stayed at the incredible Cape Arundel Inn, built in 1896 right on the ocean and with a perfect view of Walker’s Point, the Bush compound. Kennebunkport, like Camden, is charming, on the water, and filled with restaurants, boutiques and shops. We had two excellent dinners at the inn’s restaurant, Ocean, and the staff made us feel special. We visited Cape Porpoise (so many capes), a tiny enclave on nearby Goat Island the inn’s manager told us about. Besides being the site of a Revolutionary War battle (locals killed 17 British troops on a warship in the harbor with musket fire), the village features fine eateries in ancient fishermen shacks.