John Mahoney

Hello to all hands from Calais, Maine

CALAIS, ME | It's 4:30 a.m. here at the International Motel on the American bank of the St. Croix River and something inside this machine ate the photographs one made yesterday.

One is annoyed.

We left Fool's Hollow with Art at 8:15 a.m., picked up Judy at motel in Derby, VT and headed east across the Connecticut River. Excellent breakfast, complete with corned beef or red flannel hash, at Ray's Fine Foods outside of Lancaster, NH. Getting hot & muggy. Al the Plumber told me he preferred February weather. I told Al it was because he got paid for fixing all those frozen water pipes. Al laughed and drove off to the north.

The White Mountains are misty and blue today, but still spectacular. Rumford, ME still stinks, nearby Mexico, ME is still butt-ugly.

Thirty miles outside of Bangor, I use Art's nifty little cellphone to locate a place to call home for the night in NB -- St. Andrews or St. George. $185 per couple. Thanks, no. We settle on Calais. Less than $60, clean rooms, with a roofed balcony overlooking the river.

Lovely if you keep your eyes straight ahead on Canada across the river. -To the right, the large fuel-holding tank of the Dead River Company. Nice. touch.

Dinner at Bernadini's Restaurant. The founder came from Italy in 1886, bringing with him an old family marinara recipe. On squid last night, it was okay. Mediocre salad, lukewarm expresso.

So quick? I say to our young waitress when she brings the coffee.

Oh, says she, I already had half a cup left over.

The Silver Fox, curled up on the bed, reminds me that her cappuccino was excellent.

Bernadini's gets a '7' and I'm feeling generous.

Across the International Bridge and into St. Andrews after breakfast and a travel strategy meeting.

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