All posts tagged: maine

48 Hours In | The Kennebunks (ME)

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48 Hours in Kennebunk/Kennebunkport, Maine *Updated July 2015! Starting the day with a sunrise walk along the Kennebunk beaches has always been one of my favorites of being a local of this little fishing town. In the summer you´ll find a few more faces than usual along your morning walk – including pups chasing after sticks, the bold surfers catching the first waves, and your locals and visitors alike. But as the steam rises off your coffee and a crisp breath leaves your mouth and you watch the sun just peak above the horizon, you´ll be glad you started your day then. First 24Hours Walk: After your homemade morning cup of joe at Kennebunk Beach – take a stroll along the two adjoining beaches to take in the views before the crowds gear up for a day of baking in the sun and soaking their toes in the passing waves. There are several beaches in Kennebunk, but the three most well known are Kennebunk, Middle, and Mother´s Beach which are all connected and make for …

an international language: music & food

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“Mmmmmmm,” we both squeeled as the flavors of the chocolate candy melted in our mouths. We were in France for the afternoon Christmas shopping. And while our basic French language skills could order us lunch and ask for the bill, having deeper conversations about the different types of chocolate was quite difficult – until she handed us each a chocolate to try. And voila! Mmmm. The international sound of pleasure. Fastforward four days. Lucy and I find ourselves in a local bar in Donosti, Spain watching a band from Portland, Maine. As two of the six or seven women in the entire bar, we stand out; we’re not Basque and we’re clearly not regulars there. And we laugh and sing along to the catchy choruses of the Pop-Punk Rock n’ Roll sounds tearing up the stage, I realize that we are probably the only two who understand everything from the lyrics to the attempted stage-audience banter – which got me thinking about the international languages of music and food. It’s an incredible thing to be …

| WHAT’S BRAVE TO YOU? |

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We sat  in a bar during ‘las navidades’ sipping on glasses of red wine and nibbling on a selection of pintxos as we talked about being away from our families over the holidays to the meaning of the word brave. Julie is one of the few American woman I’ve met here in San Sebastian and we are kindred souls, despite the 35 year age difference. She’s adventurous and, as some would say, brave. To us, this is a silly word, but we hear it often. She recently dropped her life in the United States to move to San Sebastian and better her Spanish. Even though she doesn’t plan on staying here as long as I do, I did the same exact thing just a few months ago. Many friends back home and many new friends here have told us the same thing: you’re brave for packing your bags and taking off. We’re always humbled when people compliment us on our decision to move, travel, and leave our own country, however, we would never consider ourselves brave. Adventurous, yes. Free-spirited, maybe. But brave? We don’t feel …

| grateful: last week of sept |

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Starting in mid-August I started a project called 21 Days of Gratitude. I wrote down three things a day for which I am grateful. Since the project came to an end I haven’t been writing down my gratitude daily – however, I’d like to make it a weekly routine. I’d like to consciously take time out of my day to think about what makes me happy, what I’m grateful for, and share it with you all. I know those 21 Days helped me to take each day and find what’s beautiful around me – even if I’m feeling down. The simple fact I can read and write should remind me of how lucky I truly am. So for the last week of September I have the following to be grateful: Weddings – seeing the happiness first & love between two people. Makes me believe in the tradition despite all the divorces and people abusing the right to be married. Smiling or saying hello to a stranger. When people say thank you when you’ve helped them.   So, what are …

| I’ll MISS THIS |

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Driving to Augusta this morning with the country radio station revving me up for an all day conference I needed to be awake for – it hit me: I only have two weeks left in this country for a long time. I only have two weeks left driving my truck, listening to country music on the radio, and living with my parents. Some things I’ll miss more than others, some will just become fond memories. I’ve realized these are some of the things I’ll miss the most from the USA: My family My friends Snuggling with Lily Driving the yota a.k.a. my toyota tacoma Blasting country music and driving down back roads The way the leaves change & the smells of fall in Maine Not having to pay rent (or the heating bill, the electricity, etc.) Relatively cheap peanut butter – but let’s be honest, I’ll probably still buy it in Spain I’m sure as time goes by once I’m in Spain I’ll realize more things that I miss about this country. But I can’t dwell on …

| SNOWFLAKES THAT STAY ON MY NOSE & EYELASHES |

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Its snowing. Hard. And Im in Montpellier, France. It never snows here. I thought I was running away from the winters in Maine, but I guess it chose to follow me — sorry, France. So far my time in this country has been amazing despite the frigid weather. The abundance of boulangeries filled with fresh baguettes, croissants, and macarons along with creperies spread throughout has put a small dent in my pocket, but its totally worth it. – – – Clearly my attention span for writing has been very limited these days. But, who can blame me? I’m traveling around, seeing so many new places, meeting new people and visiting good friends. By the time I have some time to sit down and write, I’m usually putting my head to the pillow to fall asleep for a few hours here and there. But since I’ve been in Salzburg I’ve felt at home. I’ve felt comfortable and I’ve taken the time to relax. I’ve explored the city, found a few cafes I really enjoy, edited all …

| HAPPY UP HERE |

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I’ve been away for awhile. But now I’m back. Last time we spoke, I was just getting back from London and telling you about my love affair with the city. To say the least, much has changed (except the fact that I’m still madly in love with London). Now, I’m sitting in my bed in Kennebunk, Maine. My hometown. My comfort zone. I love being back in my small town, I love seeing faces I recognize on the street, I love driving by the beach every-single-day. I’ve made a few new friends in town, but I love being so close to my high school friends. They have become such an important part of my life, and I can’t imagine a world without them. Although, now having been away from Halifax for a year and a half, I can say I miss it dearly and all the amazing people I created memories with in that city, that country. You all will hold a special place in my heart and it saddens me that that part of …

| 12 THINGS I’VE LEARNED IN 57 DAYS |

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After a day of fighting the flu at a 5 star hotel and 2 days laying on the beach and regaining my summer glow, I’ve sat down, ordered a café con leche and jotted down what I’ve learned these past 57 days in Europe. 1. You can survive (while looking good) for 3 months on one backpack of clothes. I don’t know if it sounds like a lot or a little, depending on who you are, but when I’ve come across both kinds of shock either on how much I have or how little. To me, I change between the thoughts on a regular basis. When I packed my things in Kennebunk preparing for my travels I thought of the most useful things I could bring with me – the things that could be worn over and over again, could be worn casually or dressed up, and could be tossed away if it came down to it. I also needed to be prepared for winter conditions and island weather leaving me a little unsure of what …

| EASTERN PROMENADE |

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the grass tickles my fingers as my arms lay resting along the ground. the breeze coming from the east. sweeping stray hairs across my neck, my face. my eyes open and close in the bright sunlight. my skin tightens as the warmth is absorbed. i feel my lips. they part and the breeze gently pours into my mouth as my cheeks salivate embracing these new sensations. my lungs fill with a small breath. it falls. it rises. the salt air in my body. in my nose. out my mouth. counting the breaths as they come and go, as the seconds pass. this is maine. this is home.

| TEARS OF TERMINAL TWO |

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I sat in the Dublin airport with my face in my hands. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks and as I thought about where I was heading — home. It’s funny. A year ago I had sat in the same terminal waiting for a flight to Boston with the same hot tears running from my eyes. But this time, it was different. A year ago I was ready to leave to Europe, I wanted to go back to Maine — to see my family, friends and the beautiful coast. A little over a week ago, I was sad to be done my travels, I was sad to be going back home. Before I left for my trip I wasn’t sure how many months would be too long or too short. I took a guess and made sure I’d use my 90 day tourist visa to the max and go from there whether I find work to make extra money or if I had properly made a budget, still had money of my own saved to …