Travel notes: Portland and Augusta (Maine)
Took a short road trip to Maine early Monday morning for work. My travel companion was one of our consultants from Stockholm. She and I never had much reason to interact before, which is a shame. She's a lot of fun. I had brought some random busywork to do on my laptop, but it stayed in the back seat for the entire trip. We chatted instead.
It's refreshing to rediscover that coworkers can be real people. In the office, we're too afraid to be interesting, since we're there to -work.- We're not supposed to be too amusing, or else we might offend the other politically-correct drones. We have been programmed to leave our humanity at home; I should un-learn that.
Oddly enough, we somehow managed not to offend each other during the car ride up, or for the rest of the week.
We arrived at the customer site, attended several meetings, and began the project assessment that we were scheduled to perform. It was work. Large companies have convoluted IT infrastructure, and push ridiculous policies and standards. The customer has a draconian firewall and proxy server which blocks all sorts of things, like webmail and blogs: it's almost as if they want to force their employees to work! It also blocked outbound SSH. Had to catch up on e-mails on Friday. Two of the IT admins I worked with wonderfully competent and knowledgeable; the others...errr...ummm...they seemed like decent dronespeople.
I had been through Portland before, but never spent much time there. It's a funky little city, especially by the harbor. A bit touristy, but along the waterfront, there are several quaint brick-lined streets, non-chain shops, restaurants, and bars, a tourboat industry, and a lobster/fishing industry. It comes across as a hip place to hang out or live. (Despite the proximity of high stacks of lobster traps, the area doesn't stink. Bonus!)
I called one of our other consultants who had been stationed in Portland for several months, and he texted back a handful of restaurant recommendations. We settled at J's Oyster Shack. It's a bit of a dive bar, full of colorful locals, situated right on the water. The waitstaff was extremely friendly and motivated, as if they were the owners. We sat at the bar, and a couple locals drew us into their animated discussion. One was a local politician/lawyer, and the other was a local historian/businessman. The latter was lamenting the state of puiblic education, particularly with regard to history: he was informally polling younger people, and was appalled at how few knew who Winston Churchill was. He was slightly cheered that my coworker and I could even recall a few factoids about Sir Winston. I didn't have the heart to tell the inebriated historian that we didn't fit his sample set, though: I'm older than he assumed, and my travel companion never attended school in this country.
We ordered a couple pints of beer. They were local brews, so I don't recall the names. Mine was a summer ale, with a lot of nutty hoppy flavor. Hers was a clean beer, reminiscent of a Hefewietzen. Aside from oysters, the bar's two special dishes are Bouillbaise, and Lobster Pernod. So that's what we ordered. Their Lobster Pernod is like a Fettuccine Alfredo, with a generous pile of lobster meat and a dash of anise-flavored liquor. It was creamy, rich and smooth; the lobster was sweet and fresh; the Pernod aftertaste was subtle and balanced: the dish was much fancier than the surroundings would have suggested. (And at $18, it didn't blow our per-diem! Sadly, there were no lobster shells for me to play with.) The Bouillbaise was brimming with mussels, clams, cod, scallops, shrimp and lobster, in a tomato base, served with pasta. It was a tasty smattering of seafood, but not a well-integrated seafood stew. Making a good Bouillbaise is understandably difficult, since it takes time to build depth and let all the flavors meld together; but the ingredients are too delicate for long cooking times. (At $16, I really shouldn't complain.) The portions were hearty, and neither of us could finish.
After dinner, we strolled about, staring at the old buildings, and observing that many of the bars and clubs have a theme with blue neon lights. We wandered out to a pier, then trespassed through a long courtyard between some luxury townhouses, to a semi-private deck overlooking some boats. Aside from the occasional seagull, it would be a great place to sit out, with a tall drink and a good book.
Augusta is less lively than Portland. Most of the activity appears to center around a couple miles of strip malls. I prefer local flavor. Past the strip malls, around a rotary, away from the capital building, is the downtown area. It's around the corner, and down a steep hill, along a grand river. It's very pretty. There are parks and running paths along the river, with a large green bridge spanning a couple blocks away. On the other side of the river is a historic fort (we forgot to go back the next day when they were open), and a boat launch. A pair of kayakers out on the helped put the river into perspective: it's big, but since there's not much going on along the river, it seems less so.
Downtown Augusta looks like a good place to bring a bike or kayak. The river views are gorgeous. The trees provide lovely greenery. Some of the old buildings are quite pretty. There's a train station. There are a couple of outdoor cafes. But... It's dead.
After work one night, we went downtown, and discovered that most of the shops, cafes and restaurants closed at six. There was a barbecue place that was open. It looked more like a yuppie brewpub than a gritty barbecue joint. The waitstaff was chipper, but a little uncoordinated. We ordered a couple pints of local beer, and some random barbecue. The pulled pork was good and smokey, but their sauce was tomatoey and uninspired. It had no bite. The chicken was somewhat dry and bland. (Come on, people. Chicken breast does not hold up to long smoking periods. Dark meat is the way to go.) I didn't try the jambalaya, but my coworker said it was good.
We didn't hang out after dinner, since we had to head back to the hotel and do some work. Besides, Augusta doesn't seem to have much for folks to do at night.
We returned to downtown Augusta another day in the early afternoon. There were a couple people on the street, and we went to a cozy cafe, where we could people-watch. But there really weren't enough people to watch. I had a grilled tuna steak sandwich with sprouts, and my coworker had a Cobb salad. The service was friendly and relaxed. It was 90 degrees out, even in the shade of an umbrella, so nobody wants to move fast.
It's refreshing to rediscover that coworkers can be real people. In the office, we're too afraid to be interesting, since we're there to -work.- We're not supposed to be too amusing, or else we might offend the other politically-correct drones. We have been programmed to leave our humanity at home; I should un-learn that.
Oddly enough, we somehow managed not to offend each other during the car ride up, or for the rest of the week.
We arrived at the customer site, attended several meetings, and began the project assessment that we were scheduled to perform. It was work. Large companies have convoluted IT infrastructure, and push ridiculous policies and standards. The customer has a draconian firewall and proxy server which blocks all sorts of things, like webmail and blogs: it's almost as if they want to force their employees to work! It also blocked outbound SSH. Had to catch up on e-mails on Friday. Two of the IT admins I worked with wonderfully competent and knowledgeable; the others...errr...ummm...they seemed like decent dronespeople.
I had been through Portland before, but never spent much time there. It's a funky little city, especially by the harbor. A bit touristy, but along the waterfront, there are several quaint brick-lined streets, non-chain shops, restaurants, and bars, a tourboat industry, and a lobster/fishing industry. It comes across as a hip place to hang out or live. (Despite the proximity of high stacks of lobster traps, the area doesn't stink. Bonus!)
I called one of our other consultants who had been stationed in Portland for several months, and he texted back a handful of restaurant recommendations. We settled at J's Oyster Shack. It's a bit of a dive bar, full of colorful locals, situated right on the water. The waitstaff was extremely friendly and motivated, as if they were the owners. We sat at the bar, and a couple locals drew us into their animated discussion. One was a local politician/lawyer, and the other was a local historian/businessman. The latter was lamenting the state of puiblic education, particularly with regard to history: he was informally polling younger people, and was appalled at how few knew who Winston Churchill was. He was slightly cheered that my coworker and I could even recall a few factoids about Sir Winston. I didn't have the heart to tell the inebriated historian that we didn't fit his sample set, though: I'm older than he assumed, and my travel companion never attended school in this country.
We ordered a couple pints of beer. They were local brews, so I don't recall the names. Mine was a summer ale, with a lot of nutty hoppy flavor. Hers was a clean beer, reminiscent of a Hefewietzen. Aside from oysters, the bar's two special dishes are Bouillbaise, and Lobster Pernod. So that's what we ordered. Their Lobster Pernod is like a Fettuccine Alfredo, with a generous pile of lobster meat and a dash of anise-flavored liquor. It was creamy, rich and smooth; the lobster was sweet and fresh; the Pernod aftertaste was subtle and balanced: the dish was much fancier than the surroundings would have suggested. (And at $18, it didn't blow our per-diem! Sadly, there were no lobster shells for me to play with.) The Bouillbaise was brimming with mussels, clams, cod, scallops, shrimp and lobster, in a tomato base, served with pasta. It was a tasty smattering of seafood, but not a well-integrated seafood stew. Making a good Bouillbaise is understandably difficult, since it takes time to build depth and let all the flavors meld together; but the ingredients are too delicate for long cooking times. (At $16, I really shouldn't complain.) The portions were hearty, and neither of us could finish.
After dinner, we strolled about, staring at the old buildings, and observing that many of the bars and clubs have a theme with blue neon lights. We wandered out to a pier, then trespassed through a long courtyard between some luxury townhouses, to a semi-private deck overlooking some boats. Aside from the occasional seagull, it would be a great place to sit out, with a tall drink and a good book.
Augusta is less lively than Portland. Most of the activity appears to center around a couple miles of strip malls. I prefer local flavor. Past the strip malls, around a rotary, away from the capital building, is the downtown area. It's around the corner, and down a steep hill, along a grand river. It's very pretty. There are parks and running paths along the river, with a large green bridge spanning a couple blocks away. On the other side of the river is a historic fort (we forgot to go back the next day when they were open), and a boat launch. A pair of kayakers out on the helped put the river into perspective: it's big, but since there's not much going on along the river, it seems less so.
Downtown Augusta looks like a good place to bring a bike or kayak. The river views are gorgeous. The trees provide lovely greenery. Some of the old buildings are quite pretty. There's a train station. There are a couple of outdoor cafes. But... It's dead.
After work one night, we went downtown, and discovered that most of the shops, cafes and restaurants closed at six. There was a barbecue place that was open. It looked more like a yuppie brewpub than a gritty barbecue joint. The waitstaff was chipper, but a little uncoordinated. We ordered a couple pints of local beer, and some random barbecue. The pulled pork was good and smokey, but their sauce was tomatoey and uninspired. It had no bite. The chicken was somewhat dry and bland. (Come on, people. Chicken breast does not hold up to long smoking periods. Dark meat is the way to go.) I didn't try the jambalaya, but my coworker said it was good.
We didn't hang out after dinner, since we had to head back to the hotel and do some work. Besides, Augusta doesn't seem to have much for folks to do at night.
We returned to downtown Augusta another day in the early afternoon. There were a couple people on the street, and we went to a cozy cafe, where we could people-watch. But there really weren't enough people to watch. I had a grilled tuna steak sandwich with sprouts, and my coworker had a Cobb salad. The service was friendly and relaxed. It was 90 degrees out, even in the shade of an umbrella, so nobody wants to move fast.