2009-07-11

Ogunquit, Pt. 3

Why did we choose Ogunquit for our vacation? The reasons are many:

Dollars to donuts, it's cheaper than staying on the Cape. You get all the same scenery (kitschy gift shops peddling faux-weatherbeaten beach signage and those godawful fucking Vera Bradley bags) minus the traffic. From Boston, it's actually QUICKER to get to Ogunquit than it is to go to the Cape. And Ogunquit just looooooves them some public "art."

As we toddled around town, I noted the different types of lodging in the area. I had done a fair bit of research in the weeks leading up to our getaway, taking into consideration both our financial situation as well as what we "required" to make our stay a nice one. Despite appearances to the contrary, I am not particularly high-maintenance. I don't need turndown service with goddamn mints on my pillow, a giant neo-Colonial four-poster bed, or a jacuzzi in my room (which, and I'm sorry if you're inclined to find that "romantic," I happen to think is just tacky and gross). Give me a clean room and a comfortable bed, and I'm plenty happy.

Lodging in Ogunquit ranges from motels such as the one in which we stayed to bucolic bed-n-breakfasts to campgrounds dotted with wee cottages to vast resorts (many of which include them jacuzzi rooms, so you romantic types are all set). All of them seemed to be doing pretty well while we were there. All of them....except one.

Not far from where we stayed was this sad little collection of cottages: Wilson's Village Inn. It was hard to say just how long this place had been out of business.

We mustered enough courage to venture right up to the place and get some pictures with the 35mm, which we haven't gotten developed as of this writing. Some of the cottage doors were open, but something kept me from actually venturing inside. My "ghost radar" wasn't exactly whooping and whirring out of control (the way it did at the Columbia Gorge Hotel last fall), but I somehow felt that going inside one of them would not be a sound decision on my part.

Still, every time we walked by this place I had to stop and just take it in. There is something fascinating to me about Wilson's Village Inn, and I wasn't able to find much about it online, save for a Flickr page of another like-minded fellow, who got some exquisite shots of the place using a Holga.

I'm kicking myself here, because we HAVE a Holga, and I wish we'd thought to bring it along. Anyway, check out these beautiful shots of Wilson's here.

Maybe next time we'll go all out and stay at one of the really swanky places on the Marginal Way.

For all my squawking, I rather like to think of myself as the sort of broad who takes tea on the lawn at 4.

Just don't put a fucking jacuzzi in my room.

lisamcc at 8:25 p.m.

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