Down East Magazine - Maine Vacations, Real Estate, Lifestyles

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Maine for the New Yorker

A Guide for Urbanites on Vacation Down East.

It is a truth universally acknowledged that New Yorkers do not lack for self-confidence. You've made it there so you can make it anywhere — that's the Big Apple mindset if we're to believe Mr. Sinatra.

And what's to misunderstand about Maine? It's Vacationland, right? Lots of picturesque little towns with quaint shops and white church steeples. The land of cheap lobster and people with wicked thick accents. To the Manhattanite, the Pine Tree State is about as intimidating as a petting zoo.
 
That said, we who live in Maine and have the pleasure of welcoming many New York guests to our state each summer sometimes wonder whether all that self-assurance might conceal a few . . . insecurities. Far be it from us to analyze you. But we've seen enough New York license plates headed the wrong way on our streets to know that some of you are lost. There's no shame in admitting it: Maine's an alien environment. People actually make eye contact here; they say hello and smile without provocation. Fortunately, Down East is here to help you fit in.

Finding The Times
In the summertime Mainers know that the easiest way to get crushed is to stand between a New Yorker and his or her copy of the Sunday Times. "It's like somebody with a nicotine addiction who needs their cigarettes," says Cindy Landre of the Port Clyde Store. The little grocery and hardware store is just one of many shops up and down the coast that holds reserve copies of the "Gray Lady" for summer people who request them. Many others just put out a pile first-come, first-served. And while local Maine newspapers go unsold, the Times almost always sells out. "They just want the New York paper," explains Landre. The Port Clyde Store reserves dozens of papers in the summer months, but there are always people who didn't reserve ahead of time and will fight for the last available copy in the pile. "They'll wait for you at the door to open the bundle in the morning," says Landre, a note of fear creeping into her voice. "It's really . . . something." When it comes to the New York Times, it's the early birds in Maine who get their paper.

Getting Good Bagels
Forget about it. You can't get them north of Zabar's. This is a bialy? Who are they trying to kid?
 
We're really in no position to argue with these oft-overheard sentiments, although we do believe that many of our local bakers — including the venerable Mr. Bagel chain in southern Maine, the Bagel Café in Camden, and Bagel Central in Bangor, just to name a few — serve some pretty good bagels. Then again, Mainers think a deli is part of a grocery store, too, so what do we know? On the subject of lox we'll defer to your experienced palate (as we hope you will defer to ours on the subject of lobster rolls). So where does that leave the hungry New Yorker? Since you're vacationing in the Pine Tree State, you might indulge in some local breakfast specialties. The homemade donuts at Congdon's Donuts in Wells are a delicious affront to everything Dr. Atkins preached. Or try a breakfast slice of coconut cream pie at Moody's Diner in Waldoboro. In any case, you're often better off skipping the so-called continental breakfast at the motel (talk about bad bagels) and trying the local diner. You can always get a bagel when you're back in The City.

Down East Etiquette
In which we answer the questions New Yorkers don't dare ask aloud.
Q. What's with people and sidewalks in Maine? Everyone putters along.
A. It goes without saying that the pace of life in Machias is slower than in Manhattan. We're in Maine, we've already arrived at our destination, so what's the rush? And it's not like our sidewalks are designed as major, people-moving thoroughfares. Most of them peter out before they've gone even a mile. Sometimes when we're trying to mail a letter, we Mainers get frustrated at the clusters of tourists mobbing our sidewalks. Then we run into a neighbor we haven't seen for a while and find ourselves gamming for fifteen minutes, oblivious to the moving bodies around us. Those meetings are healthy reminders that life need not always happen at a breakneck pace. Slow down, you're in Maine now.

Q.What's the deal with public transportation in Maine?
A. Public transportation? Never heard of it. Seriously, Maine is indeed short of options that don't involve driving your own car. There's free bus service on Mount Desert Island and metro bus service available in our larger municipalities (Portland and Bangor), and the Amtrak Downeaster (800-USA-RAIL) has at least connected the Pine Tree State to the rest of the Northeast rail corridor. But the truth is, if you want to get most anywhere in Maine, you'd better plan on driving. And if you're   a Manhattanite  just climbing back behind the wheel of a rental for the first time in a year, we recommend taking it slow and easy. You don't need to bring that hyper-aggressive, vehicle-as-a-weapon driving style you mastered back home on the FDR Expressway. In Maine we typically only use our horns to beep hello.

Q. I sent back my fried clams at a restaurant because they were undercooked, and the waiter acted like I'd insulted his mother. What's the big deal?
A. It's not that you were wrong to be so outspoken. The restaurant had no business serving cold food. But the truth is some - not all - Mainers are uncomfortable making or receiving direct complaints. There's an element of reserve in the Maine character, of not wanting to seem rude or make a fuss, that doesn't always serve us well in certain social situations. When we get a bad meal, most of us don't ask for a refund; we just resolve never to return again. That said, there's a way to send back a shore dinner without being rude — not that you ever would be.

Q. When I pulled over on Route 1 to look at a map, a car immediately stopped behind me. I thought I was going to be held up so I took off. What was happening there?
A. Maine consistently ranks among the safest states in the nation so it's highly unlikely you were about to become the victim of a crime. More likely the driver thought you were in distress and needed help of some kind. Motorists here still watch out for each other. Speaking of crime, Mainers marvel at the paranoia we see among visitors who suspiciously set their car alarms when parked on the streets of our smallest villages. Bad things happen everywhere, but generally speaking you can let your guard down in Maine without suffering dire consequences. Lock your car, but kill the alarm.

Q. The other day, when I picked up my Times at the store, people were milling around near the counter. But when I stepped up to the register, I got dirty looks from the clerk and customers. How was I supposed to know they were waiting on line?
A. Mainers tend to  take a deferential approach to the subject of lines at restaurants and stores (and we say waiting "in line" incidentally, not "on line"). The common assumptions are that you pay attention to who arrived ahead of you and that you do not obliviously push ahead of that person. You might also have noticed that Mainers have an enlarged sense of personal space. We're not a state of "close talkers." Back off       a bit.

Recognize Your Own?
A sampling of famous New Yorkers, past and present, who have summered in Maine.
Brooke Astor, Socialite, Mount Desert Island
Zero Mostel, Actor, Monhegan
Ved Mehta, New Yorker Staff Writer, Islesboro
Joseph Lelyveld, New York Times Managing Editor, Campobello
Roxana Robinson, Author, Mount Desert Island
Nelson Rockefeller, New York Governor, Mount Desert Island
Stockard Channing, Actor, Georgetown
Susan Minot, Author, North Haven
Sister Parrish, Decorator - Islesboro
Edward Hopper, Artist, Cape Elizabeth
William Wegman, Photographer, Rangeley
George Pataki, New York Governor, New Harbor

<I>This article was published in the July 2004 issue of Down East. To review back issues, click secure.downeast.com/store/home.php</I>