They say Maine is the lobster capital of the world, but I distinctly remember New Brunswick and Nova Scotia and Newfoundland all making similar claims, so it's hard to take that seriously. This town sure takes it seriously, though — virtually every pub, restaurant and shop in the downtown area has a lobster on its sign or in its decor. If I never see another crustacean, that would be OK by me.
But Bar Harbor is about more than just lobsters. From the mid-19th century to the 1940s, this area was the summer playground for America's elite: the Astors, Rockefellers, Vanderbilts and Carnegies built beautiful mansions (they called them “cottages”) so they could spend their summers in luxury. Sometimes they even bought the neighboring cottages just to use as guesthouses. Many of those mansions have been converted to hotels or B&Bs. I don't know what they charge, but there were “no vacancy” signs on most of them, so I imagine they're doing pretty well.
The ship hosted a country and western party in one of the lounges last night. They were offering line dancing lessons again, and this time I convinced Chris to come with me on the condition that he could just sit and take pictures. Just as the lessons ended (so much fun!) we happened to meet up with three other couples we knew, and I don't know if it was the beer or the peer pressure, but Chris actually agreed to dance with me for one slow song. The man has not danced since our wedding, so this was a very big deal. If only we had photographic proof.
Our streak of beautiful weather ended today, but we're hoping for better things tomorrow. On to Boston…