Wells, Maine

Drove up from Boston to Portsmouth this morning. Had to have a look round there as Tess was born in the UK version.

From there we drove on to Oguncuit, the plan being to walk the Marginal Way but a) it was steaming hot, b) it was so crowded we couldn't find anywhere to park and c) we were in need of food so we called in at Mike's Clam Shack, something of an institution it seems; having tried the clams I can see why.

We then strolled along the beach here at Wells, where we are staying, which I instantly fell in love with: beautiful old houses, totally uncommercialised, peaceful - just how I I imagined this part of the world.

I was beginning to plot a screenplay about a tortured and heartbroken writer, penning his cathartic novel in one of the garret rooms in one of these houses, pausing to look out to sea occasionally or jog along the beach at dawn and/or sunset where of course he would bump in to an attractive widow and find love and redemption ......

Tess had to bring me back to reality with a trip to the supermarket, as a result of which I'm now sitting on the balcony of our (enormous!) apartment enjoying a craft beer!

Apologies for limited comments but time and wifi access has been short.