According to my coworker who follows my instagram, we had the ideal old person vacation in Maine this weekend. I guess I’m moving into my geriatric years because it was so restful and pleasing and perfect that I don’t even mind that we weren’t drunk on a beach in Cancun. And yes, instagram, again, I’m sorry! I did bring my camera, but it’s so heavy I didn’t feel like toting it around, and my trustworthy vintage film camera that was a high school graduation gift suddenly stopped working.
The photos above are of the B&B, which turned out to be a dream – the owners were really fantastic (& their son was in high school with the friend I stayed with in summers past – small world!) and just back from France with armloads of treasures for their shop. I wanted everything – yards of antique linens, delicate pot de crème sets, mercury glass candlesticks. We had a picnic basket breakfast each morning in the garden, and lounged around in patches of sun on the tall bed reading books. We’ll definitely head back & maybe even aim for a stay at one of their rentals in France.
Wiscasset itself is a total time-travel town – so easy to imagine tall ships filling the harbor, trunks of china and silks roped to carts headed up the main streets past the grand houses. One of those houses is the Nickels-Sortwell House, above. Our tour guide Dan was really interesting and knowledgeable & the house stunning – unlike the nearby Castle Tucker, which had a terrible guide, was absolutely hideous, and had housed a family who seemed downright psychopathic. Good times! But the Nickels-Sortwell house has me drawing up solarium plans, and we even got to meet the current owner, a tiny energetic imp in her 90s who actually made me want to get old.
Wiscasset also has some fancy shops, including Treats, Rock Paper Scissors, and more spendy antique shops than you can shake a stick at. It also has one junk shop, where I came across this CÉLINE train case for $20 and almost had a heart attack. Next to the Chanel bag, it’s probably one of my favorite finds.
I’m all self-conscious now after being told I’m an old lady, but I LIKE gardens and graveyards and old houses and rocky beaches and tiny weathered gates wrapped in wild seaside roses. I’m ready for a little red roofed ocean cottage in the middle of nowhere now, please.