It’s been almost three years since I moved to Eastport and I re-read last year’s thoughts on life in Downeast Maine. My opinion hasn’t changed one iota, so I haven’t changed the wording except to change “two years” to “three years.”
Three years ago I moved to true DownEast Maine and have never looked back. This is a region of wild beauty: woodlands teeming with moose, bobcats and deer and where sighting bald eagles soaring overhead is nearly a daily occurence.
Islands, coves, shingle beaches and deep water where one can watch whales cruise and seals play. A place where fishing boats outnumber pleasure boats and the number of snow storms is predicted by the number of foggy days in August.
DownEast Maine is populated with the friendliest people: heavily accented locals living side by side with PFA’s (“people from away”). Jobs are scarce, cost of living is high and payscales low. People believe in helping one another get through the seemingly endless “hard times”. Broken down on the side of the road? Wait 60 seconds and someone will stop and help you out. Someone in your family sick? Just wait and see if they don’t come to your aid…because they will.
This is where I chose to live and I love my new home, the good and the not so good. Moving DownEast isn’t for everyone (a common saying is “We may not live at the end of the earth, but you sure can see it from here”). For those of us who have chosen to make our lives here, there is no place else we’d rather be.