After almost two decades of visiting Ogunquit, Andy and I took a break of a few years while our usual bed and breakfast was sold and a worldwide pandemic prevented travel. When I mentioned returning to a different inn, Andy was initially hesitant. He does not always deal well with change, especially if he finds something he enjoys, such as our usual guesthouse and his friendship and comfort with the innkeepers. Personally, I was ready to try something new, and I very much needed a vacation given my lack of one for about five years, so it was this or some other dramatic act of self-preservation, and luckily this one worked.
Ogunquit had been calling to us for a while, a missing piece in our annual traditions, and it was the site of our very first vacation together back in 2000. We made about two trips a year there, starting the summer season on Memorial Day weekend and then closing things out either over Columbus Day or Halloween weekends. The last few years, that’s been missing, and I think both Andy and I realized it was time to get back to such beautiful basics.
Given the crazed way everyone seems to be taking trips, we did our best to avoid traffic by arriving in town on Thursday, and a thankfully uneventful ride saw us checking quietly into the Scotch Hill Inn, and a gracious and friendly woman named Rita for us situated with a brief tour of the inn and the schedule for breakfast the next few days. We made our way to our room, and I instantly felt at home.
A four-post bed, high off the floor, welcomed us into this new era, and light filled the space. The sunny weather was precisely the sort of welcome that set us at ease. The entire town seemed to be in full bloom.
While Andy settled into the newness, I did a quick walk about town, peering into old spaces and seeing how much had changed (quite a bit). Along with Covid, there had been five years of life that had run through this Beautiful Place By The Sea, changing and shifting things, like the shore itself.
We watched a Judy Garland film on that first night – ‘In the Old Summertime’ – and she sang this pretty little song. It was a perfect re-entry to our favorite vacation location, and the world, so rocked and wearied since we’d been here last, felt like it was righting itself, if just a little bit.
We entered our own little dreamland, with visions of sea roses and salty sea spray and the invigorating draw of the ocean tugging at the edge of sleep…
