For those enthralled by my last post recounting older son’s visit, hold tight for this tale of my younger son’s trip home after completing yet another year of college. (Taylor is affectionately known as a five-year-plan undergrad, meandering from Bard, to India, back to Bard, over to NYU, another return to Bard.) On May 23 he drove into Belfast with his car crammed with dirty clothes and other detritus of dorm life; after two days of shifting through all that stuff and a small effort at organization, he announced, “Let the games begin!”.
Taylor could be a poster boy of what to do in and around Belfast. Kayaking in the Passy River (actually the Passagassawakeag River, but who can say that?), and biking south through Northport and Bayview with a couple of new friends met while kayaking; Bay Wrap on Main Street sells a terrific booklet on biking trails in the area fashioned by Hartdale Maps. One night we caught a just-released movie at our very own Colonial Theatre; we saw Robin Hood – please check Rotten Tomatoes as I am trying not to be a movie critic, but I won’t see that one again. No movie night is complete without a huge shake or sundae or, to be totally the modern cosmopolitan, blood orange gelato at Scoops ice cream shop (35 Main Street).
And no trip to Maine is complete without a lobster – so on the last day, brilliant with sunshine, over we went to Young’s Lobster Pound and my baby boy ate a three pound lobster! Now, I am a city girl and I have always heard that large lobsters have tough meat – not so, at least from what I could tell from the two measly bites Taylor would let me have. (Back to the city girl thing – we don’t eat lunch).
Taylor left the other day, back to Bard for a summer job. He said with a big hug that coming home was like going on vacation. Guess so.