Vintage shops, snow and lodges: Canadia!

Today I’m taking a break from my American adventure to pop up to the wild north of Canada. Not just any Canada, French Canada. I begin the trek in Maine, heading up through New Hampshire and the White Mountain National Forest, before crossing the Connecticut River heading up towards the border. The weather took a turn for the snowy along the way:

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Acadia, The Band and Belfast: Maine

The north-easternmost state of the US has a long and varied history of ownership, from its Wabanaki original inhabitants to the French and the English. It is, however, its varied Irish settlers who gave it its name: the first settlers from Northern Ireland landed on it and declared it “Mine”.

I haven’t been mentioning where I’ve been staying on my travels, since it’s almost always cheap and unimpressive, but I must make an exception for the quite lovely Inn at St. John, in Portland. It is a somewhat bonkers scramble of a building, with staircases sprouting off at random angles and there being no way to get from lobby to room without losing all sense of direction. It’s marvellous.

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