9/19/11
Does nothing go like clockwork? Can one rainbow stay above my head for an extended period of time in the white fluffy clouds? May the skies be eternally blue? Nay, we say. That is not life; that is not the RV Way.
It felt so good to finally be in Maine! We made it, all the way to the opposite side of the states – how cool is that?! We felt like we were ready to peep those leaves, then skedaddle south for the sun.
After a few stops in between to see friends (Hello Linda and Don! We’re coming!) We stopped at the visitor’s center, ate one of their famous McIntosh apples and loaded up on traveling brochures. Hit Hwy 9 that doesn’t hug the coast but lets you see glimpses of it as you pass through….yes, barf-puke…more cute New England towns! Enough already you Yankees! Mess it up a bit for some contrast, man!
I had already pre-loaded the first three RPI (Remember them? Our erstwhile, fickle fucking RV camping club?) parks to come into view. Could we find them? No. So we did what we do and stopped for a lobster roll, and also added a new culinary delight (thanks Scott Mullan!), the fried scallop roll, at Jake’s in Moody. Um, we loved them so much I didn’t even stop to take pics. It’s what a lobster roll is supposed to be - succulent hunks of lobster, very little mayo, on a tiny teensy bed of lettuce, in the cutest little special toasted piece of bread you’ve ever seen, in its own little paper cup thingy. Same for the absolutely delicious scallop roll – lightly, tenderly fried fresh scallops in the above ditto. Heaven. Sitting in the sun, blue skies, eating heaven.
What started as excitement upon arriving in Maine, turned to shit soon after. This finding-a-decent-park thing is going to drive us nuts! RPI, Thousand Trails/Encore, KM, Passport America (PA) that the park’s like until you drive through. So we took the car off Blue in order to try our new idea on how to find a good park – drive the car to two or three then pick, after checking out the showers! First one, yuck, but could work. Second one, 20 miles away (they all look close on the map), it’s 3:00 PM and we know from experience if we keep going (next one is 30 more miles), we will be royally pissed at each other for no good reason other than we want to stop for the night. So, in we go to the office, only to find that since we can’t call RPI (not open on Sundays!), we have to pay full price. If we can get them to back load the reservation the next day, they’ll adjust. We don’t like that one bit, but…..here’s where we get in trouble, we just say OK. So, let me add that up for you…..instead of the $10.00 a night we should pay – oh, no wait, there’s another rule! – instead of the $39.99 peak season (pools are closed!) rate we were to pay – oh, no wait, there’s another rule! - we paid $60.00 for one night!
I slept really well last night, surprisingly, as this whole park thing is so stressful I thought I’d be tossing and turning all night. Mr. Roku woke me up his usual earliness by standing on my side with pads digging in until I had to get up and let him out. I realized I was still pissed this morning, feeling really numb and old and the sky became black over my head. Did a little research on pricing online, looked at the RPI site again. Ruminated. Moped a bit. Pooped. Drank a double Dhjani espresso. Stared at the trees, the squirrels in the trees, kissed Roku’s head when he came back inside. Felt dark and old and damp and useless. I think it’s the park; I thought, “Man, I NEVER want to end up old and gray in a place like this! No money, a beat up Blue, rugs that smell like cat piss, skid marks…”, well, you get the drift. This whole cruddy scene here just put a damper on my once bright Maine enthusiasm.
TC and I discussed it all this morning, along the positive line of lessons learned on the road. Waited until 10:00 here so the RPI office in Cali can open at 7:00, made reservations for the next three nights, tried to have them back load yesterday for a discount. They not only won’t do that, but they don’t know how much to charge. And upon walking to the office, neither do they. I said the website shows $15.00 + $3.00 – she gives me a double take, like, “Never gonna’ happen.” After several phone calls back and forth between RPI and Pinehirst, they agree it’s peak season but since we’re club members, it’s only $39.99. I tell Ton-Ton, he shakes his head, I tell the Pinehirst staff, “Nope, we’ll move.” She doesn’t know that last night we did a stealth check on about four other parks in the area, and found a Passport America for $22.00, so it’s no problem for us to move. She then says, “Well, I’d rather keep you satisfied than have you inconvenienced by a move, I’m the manager, so I’ll just change this to $15.00.” Done deal, we’re happy. I got two spray bottles, filled them with water and Pine Sol – ready to tackle the showers. Problem, sort of solved.
Rounded catty man back into Blue and loaded up my beach bag with books and coke, headed for Old Orchard Beach. Beautiful afternoon at the beach. I was so tired of being bummed out, fuzzy thinking, too MUCH analyzing, I thought I’d drop off for a nap. Tony did, I couldn’t, but I sure rested. We slowed way down, listened to the magic surf, the seagulls (Birds! Hitchcock!), people around us. Blue, blue sky. Exactly the rest we needed. My friend Joey tells me that when she gets to the ocean, she lets all that surf and wind just blow away the nonsense in her head. Hear, hear.
Drove around for awhile, picked up some dinner and had a great feast. Now it’s quite dark and the black cat is out hunting squirrels and another black cat with a straight tail. We are quiet. I’m heading for my cocoon of a bedroom soonest, new book, plenty sleep. Night all, much love, peace OUT!
No comments:
Post a Comment