We became more nervous when we arrived Friday to find that there was no heat or hot water; even as we pulled in, the niece was on the phone trying to arrange a rush shipment of heating oil. That night we slept under our coats and my wife's emergency blankets from the car. The oil did come eventually, and the heat was on by the next day. The hot water took a little longer to fix, leading to a chilly wake-up of sorts on Saturday.
Fortunately, things got better. The B&B was in walking distance of both the beach and the Marginal Way, and we spent much of Saturday and Sunday strolling in one area or the other. We also picked up some new books at a local shop (where I momentarily got lost in the bookstore equivalent of L-space) and went out to a really nice French place for dinner Sunday night, which was part of an apology to my wife for an egregious chronological error. We also took advantage of the cable TV to catch parts of two Sox-Yankee games, Friday's disappointing loss and Sunday's much more satisfying win.
The owner-operator arrived late Sunday and told us that because of the heat/hot-water snafus (plus other stuff), she'd give us healthy discounts on both this stay and a return visit. She explained that the folks she'd trusted to do simple but necessary things, like turning on the heat and the phones, completely fell down on the job. We told her it was all right, and that we felt more sorry for her niece and her niece's partner, who found themselves dealing with a houseful of guests on top of their two kids. Talking among ourselves later, we realized one thing: even though we like making breakfast, running a B&B may not be a good second career for us after all.
Technorati: travel, Maine