My daughter and I spent the day off the island yesterday, and had a wonderful time together. We took the 10am boat to the harbor where my mom’s car is parked. After an unsuccessful trip to the Southwest Harbor Oceanarium (which is temporarily closed and combined with the Bar Harbor Oceanarium, just so you know), we decided to go to the other one. Bar Harbor was a few harbors away, and we had to drive around Acadia National Park to get there. As we zipped through the gorgeous mountains, sparkling blue lakes, and had glimpses of the immense Atlantic Ocean, I flipped back and forth between a couple classic rock stations on the radio. Nevermind that I was driving a mini-van with a toddler chattering in the back.
By the time we reached Bar Harbor, it was lunchtime so we stopped for lunch at a little restaurant before continuing on our journey.
I choose the word journey here because that’s truly what it turned out to be. With no map and only the knowledge that the Oceanarium was on Route 3 near Bar Harbor, we set out. . . for the next two hours.
Occasionally from the backseat my little co-pilot would say, “Mommy, where are we going?”
To which I would reply, “Honey, I’m trying to find the Oceanarium.”
(read with a whiny voice) “Oh, I want to go to the Oceanarium! I want to see sting rays!”
“I don’t think they have sting rays there. And please don’t whine.”
“I want to go to the Oceanaaaaaarium.”
“Yes, I know! I’d like to go there, too. But I CAN’T FIND IT!”
And then Rick Springfield comes on the classic rock station wishing he had Jessie’s girl. I am momentarily distracted. Didn’t I grow up listening to Rick Springfield? When did this become classic rock?? Led Zepplin: classic rock. Rolling Stones: classic rock. Clapton, Eagles, Beatles: all classic rock to me. But Rick Springfield?
Thoughts from any of you music lovers?
And yes, we did finally find the Oceanarium. My daughter held everything in the touch tank there – from sea urchins to starfish to clams. The rest of our group – all adults – weren’t interested in touching anything. When do we lose are sense of exploration? Oh wait, that’s probably for another post . . .