Traveler’s Log: Trip from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Portland, Maine
Log 1: Aug 12th 2025 0400
I sip a chai and prepare to crack open one of Hemingway’s short stories in the collection ‘Men Without Women’. Boarding begins at 0425 for our 0500 flight to Boston where I will collect my car and organize to meet my contact in that city. I was warned that the chai shop opens at 0400 on the dot, as I ordered at 0358. I was also warned the fresh morning chai is extra hot. So far, so true.
I checked a bag and was assured it would be waiting for me in Boston despite the 1 hour layover in DFW Dallas. I’ve never checked a bag before. I wasn’t worried and still aren’t, but now thinking, all my best clothes were packed. Oh well. A paratrooper trip wouldn’t be unwelcome one day. It would make for a good log.
Log 2: Aug 12th 2025 1700 -Boston Time-
Travel for today nearly concluded. My stop in DFW was prolonged by a maintenance ‘check’ which took over an hour. We were assured the engine trouble was something to watch but the aircraft was fully capable. It was the longest flight of my life without the delay.
I now sit, having mazed my way through the Boston downtown including North End’s winding alleyways. In Newton, a suburb outside the major city, pizza slice and coke in hand, at a local skate park. The kids must be in school.
Log 3: Aug 12th 1730
Bought a pack of cigarettes. Newport red, long, non-menthol. $16.95 with a lighter
At cove park. Swinging on a swing set. Lily pads, swan, minnows, and bees.
Log 4: Aug 13th 1120
Paloma’s Bruncheria – Old Orchard Beach ME
The serve chilaquiles here as well as burritos. I’ve opted for pancakes. And a coffee.
I longed for a seclusion I have yet to find here, yet. This appears to be a popular vacation spot with plenty of beach goers and families.
Parking was $20 cash only. I took out extra at the ATM. My credit card has been failing both tap and chip. I rely on it and realize the weekness of technology.
I’ve heard an interesting variety in the level of accents present. I also saw 3 pregnant women yesterday in Boston. It struck me how rarely I see them out and about.
Will eat pancakes and poke around this beach tourist trap town to make the parking worth it.
Log 5: Aug 13th 1320
Hostel check in is at 1500 and I arrived in Portland around noon. Got quickly bored with the all too familiar OOG town and the beach. It was endless umbrellas and kids and $2 to use the bathroom.
I am handed my first lobster roll. $30+ for a sandwich.
Log 6: Aug 13th 1330
While ‘digging in’ a women with a thick southern accent approached the window and politely explained that she was from South Virginia and asked if they had old bay seasoning. The 20s something bloike behind the counter, who had commented on my Hot Mulligan T-Shirt, had never heard of the stuff. She caught me giggling and watching. Perhaps after finishing these chips I’ll explain I’m not a local either.
Lobster Roll – 2/10 for price. Worth a shot. I think a po-boy beats this hands down.
Log 7: August 13th 1950
Had a nap after a shower as soon as I reached the Hostel. The check in time was firm at 1500 so I killed time walking around and got some accootremon at Walgreens. I’m glad to have shaved.
I also sat at a Japanese-ish bar and had pickles and a Sapporo. Mushrooms, mystery radish (?), snap pea, pickled and fermented, all for $4. Awesome.
But the beer soiled me. Upon waking I came down the 4 flights of stairs and a woman speaking with the desk sitter said she recognized me from Honeypaw (aforementioned bar). I was at first confused. I thought she had said she saw me at paintball. I then hurriedly dismissed myself.
The headache I woke up with, presumably from travel and dehydration, had clouded my social capacity to nothing. I hope I see her again to apologize and appear human.
I applied for jobs and emailed interview follow ups. It was approaching dinner hour so I set out. Found the Ferry info booth and decided which boat was for in the coming day or two.
Can’t decide on whether to commit the 3 hour drive up to Acadia state park. Probably worth while. Prior to Duckfat I consulted the Hostel’s recommended food/activity book. A Japanese place stood out.
I braved the 10 minute walk, spent $50 on a drink and got 2 pieces of fish, from two separate menu items. One was a seared piece, the other raw. Jesus. Tastes good. But Jesus. I thought ‘six pieces’ wouldn’t be 1 piece cut into six microthin parts. I intended on ordering more after trying what I had already got. I’m glad I didn’t order more, I’d be in debt or washing dishes. I closed out and googled somewhere affordable to dine.
Log 8: Aug 14th 0900
It took some doing but I was able to sleep around 2300. Until I was awoken by the big nosed foreign lad performing a full morning stretch routine with gymnastics at what I can only guess was 0300.
I took the opportunity to piss in the room’s connected toilet but he deftly sprung for the door right before me as I quietly rose. He apologized but went for it anyway. “go, ok go” was all I could groggily murmur.
I have just eaten a veggie deluxe sandwich on everything bagel. For $20 I am flabbergasted. But the chive cream cheese was pretty good. I have decided probably not to go up to Acadia. I don’t feel I have the time and equipment needed to properly enjoy it.
I’d rather sleep and figure out my unemployment. Maybe do an art or museum adventure.
And tomorrow… the boat.
Assuming I can figure out parking.
Log 8.5: Five Americas Exist.
Old World
New World
Cowboys
Indians
Forgotten
[more on this later, I’m sure..]
Log 9: Aug 14th 1330
Took a dip in Casco Bay after doing the loop at Wolfe Neck State Park. Shopped this morning and got my girlfriend some LL Bean Boots. She’s always wanted some but never found a legit pair. The town of Freeport is built around the flagship Leon Leonsworth Bean store here.
They aren’t really my style.
Fish and birds in the bay. Crabs and hermitcrabs scuttle the shell littered salt beds.
I overlook the Osprey Nesting Sanctuary. A tempting swim were it not for the keep off signage. Sun hot and bright but always behind muggy clouds.
What am I doing here?
Nothing.
How excellent.
Log 10: Aug 14th 1535
The Oyster Shop with a ½ dozen on the way. They’ve got the down the street brewhouse’s pale ale on tap. Served in a half normal-amount-of-beer glass. This isn’t fucking Germany. I don’t need a size 13 boot stein at the local microbrewery for god’s sakes.
It’s pretty good. Wine and cheese I foresee tonight.
I hope to be back at the Hostel for the posted 6PM SOCIAL HOUR. A chance to group up. If anyone is seafood bound I would be happy to join them. [No one showed up]
After a showered I opened to my bunk neighbor about the book I saw him reading. The lies of Locke Lamora. I warned that the sequels are worth it but not as good.
He stated he was a Midwesterner. Pittsburg, Oklahoma, and Chicago he said.
This beer is pretty good. Glad to have just enough to have appreciated it, quench my thirst, and fair game for another without getting sloshed if I so chose. What a concept.
I agreed with my neighbor guy that I preferred this Portland over the Oregon city. I actually don’t agree. But, let’s make friends.
Log 11: Aug 14th 1700
What I thought was a homeless couple arguing was actually the family proprietors of a mom and pop Ethiopian restaurant. I sit inside, having negotiated down to a single order of Samosas. “Sambisa” it read in the menu. But she corrected my pronunciation.
I am afraid honestly. For my stomach as I hear the microwave whir.
The oysters and beer did me in well. I was walking around smiling. The Atlantic shellfish might beat out the Pacific.
Log 11.5: Aug 14th 1720
Fucking Banger Samosas.
Log 12: Aug 14th 2135
I walked 30 minutes up town on a read about a poetry open mic. Turns out it was a blue grass concert. Pass.
I made the trip up by getting ice cream and walking the shore front home.
I overheard my to be top bunk mate checking in. They complained about taking their luggage up “ohmahgosh ugh,” stairs.
You just don’t jive with some folks y’know?
I’ve never felt safer walking a town at night. Never felt too afraid ever, but I keep a healthy state of raised hackles. Entirely unnecessary here. I wonder how they handle the undesireables up here.
Bernie must keep his ducks in a row. [Turns out he’s from Vermont]
The being said I wouldn’t ever feel comfortable here. Too many nice clothes and nice cars. Too many long noses being looked down.
I think there is actually less freedom on a coast. Theres a clear barrier. Sea and sky are somehow less penetrable than desert and mountain. And it seems no one can decide which accent is predominant. So Much Diversity!!
Log 13: Aug 15th Friday 1045
A bee mistook my blue water bottle as a flower. He now sits on the pier bench next to me, circling and investigating the weathered wood. Fuzzy guy. I await the call for my ferry to Long Island. No not that Long Island. But it has a beach and hopefully some sun and relaxation and occupation for the mind, body, and spirit.
I slept in till 0830ish. Woken around 7 by my bunkmate undressing their bed. I am glad they only stayed one night. Their bulbous unease rocked the bed horribly. The body order guy next to me [Locke Lamora reader] also checked out. I wonder if more will fill in for the weekend.
I waited 30 minutes in the line at a bakery. Good pastries and bread for my day’s adventure.
I need a nap.
Lastest boat comes back at 2300. My flight is at 1400 tomorrow. Assuming my car isn’t towed or booted it will hopefully be a chill return.
Log 14: Aug 15th 1455
Long island was nice. Turkeys, deer, aquatic birds, crabs. How different a life connected only by Ferry must be.
I navigated the rocky shore for over a mile from south beach to fowler beach. [Super cool like shale and marble coast. Climbing and jumping along. Slow but fun. Not quite that Scottish hexagon shore, but cooler than sand]. I deck changed behind a boulder and took a long dip.
I saw the ‘not selected for position’ email and considered whether my now leaden heart would sink me. I managed to float.
Returning to my pack I cut my feet on rocks and barnacles. Lucky they had hydrogen peroxide at the one convenience store. I bandaged up and ate my brought lunch.
Cheese, baguette, sausage, jam, radishes. All from local and various places. Take a bite from each. Like a hobbit.
On the Ferry back now, a shower, a beer, and oysters might make up for the emotional and physical injuries of the day.
Log 15: Aug 15th 1730
$90 to park the car for a ~30 hour period in one of the cheaper looking lots. Ridiculous.
Turns out Bernie Sanders is from Vermont by the way. Not Maine.
I did a count on the Ferry earlier. 1 in 12 people have grey hair.
I’m back at the Oyster bar. $1.95 per oyster seems very reasonable for this day and age. I ordered 9 this time.
After the Ferry I inquired about the so-called ‘Vampire Bath’. For $10 you can shit and bathe in a semi-gothic themed bathroom. Black toilet. Clawfoot deep tub. With a need to soak my feet [which had warmed since the initial sea adjacent incident after the hike back and boat ride]. I went for it and it was a nice hour. That was when I set out to free my car. I think I’ll try the Cambodian place next for true dinner. Then finish the night eventually with another milkshake from the Duckfat fry place. When in Rome.
Log 16: Aug 15th 1800
CONG TU BOT
Incoming Japanese eggplant and rice. Trying the cardamom soda. Very good. Tastes like carrot cake or pumpkin pie as a drink. Liked it with a squeeze a lime.
Generational wealth doesn’t have to individual or within families. It is inherent in infrastructure and culture. And it is painfully evident that the money works differently here.
Log 16.5: Aug 15th 1630
Overheard a family discussing million dollar mortgages and uncles and gifts of homes and a trip planning to Hawaii but making sure everyone would be comfortable and have something to do if they didn’t want to join on the boat. And summer trips and frats and sororities and the college sweaters worn over the back and boat shoes. And sunglasses hanging from v necks.
Log 17: Aug 16th 1220
Last night I hit the sack before 10pm. At 2:43am I am woken by a man speaking on the phone. I rose to pee and returned to find the room entirely occupied by women. And the guy on the phone. Who turned out to be a newish worker of the hostel. He was talking to a higher ranking lady on the phone.
Somehow someone was in the wrong room and wrong bed. A switcharoo was being poorly orchestrated. Loudly too and with luggage aruckus.
It took me a while to fall back to sleep. I had been dreaming in the world of Dungeon Crawler Carl. I remember a fish or a picture of a fish, and something with AI changing the rules and one of my powers no longer working.
I woke a few times in the morning proper as folks shifted around. As I noticed in the night I was the only man now in the room. Sort of uncomfortable. I never had a sister or female roommate before. I felt I was subject to extra scrutiny or something. I changed, returned my sheets, and started the drive back to Boston.
A 2 hour trip back to the airport. My vehicle was a POS chevy malibu. Recently in a rear bumper accident, warning of needing an oil change, and the brakes rumbled louder than the engine. Looking I saw the rotors rusted and deeply scored. Hopefully they don’t try anything on my insurance’s behalf.
The airport psychic damage is in full effect. Bougth Dramamine to try and combat the tail end seats. The flight is at 1420. Whoops. I’m really early.
That’s what you get when you generous ‘buffers’ to each step in your transit plans.
I’ll be home by 8pm hopefully. Excited to see the girlfriend. Some of the sights and sounds were a shame to experience alone.
Starboys.Net 
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