Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.
— Brandon Sanderson, The Way of Kings
I had great expectations for the Eastern Shore.
I had heard about the charm of St. Michaels, the sophistication of Easton, the crab cakes, the seafood, the general laid-back atmosphere. I kept hearing, It’s not like any place you’ve ever been.
I was almost ready to move there, sight unseen. One of the biggest attractions of the East Coast, for me, is the concentration of interesting and scenic and historical places. In the West you have also have interesting and scenic and historical places, but they’re so spread out. You can drive for hours and hours, sometimes for days, to get from one place to the other.
But if I lived in, say, Maryland, I could take a day trip to Washington DC or spend the weekend in Boston or Manhattan. I could drive to New England in the fall or down to Miami in the winter. And being a mere 25 feet above sea level, the area more than met my low-elevation requirement.
But the Eastern Shore and I got off on the wrong foot from the get-go.
First of all, it took two hours to cross the four-mile Chesapeake Bay Bridge that connects Maryland to the Eastern Shore.
When I approached the toll gates, traffic was backed up for several miles, partly because six lanes of toll-gate traffic had to squeeze into two lanes to cross the Bridge — and because, as I learned later, it was normal weekend summer traffic on the Eastern Shore.
Neavitt – Population 100 – Elevation 7′
Once I got across the Bridge I still had to drive about 45 minutes to get to Neavitt. When I finally arrived at the Blue Bird Cottage, I was relieved to see that the house looked just like the photo in VRBO.
Inside, it was tidy and looked clean, so I unloaded the car and settled in for two weeks.
Neavitt, it turned out, is collection of modest houses, much like the cottage I rented, and a couple of dozen large expensive waterfront homes that are barely visible beyond long, shaded entrances.
There are no restaurants or shops or commercial entities in Neavitt. So I drove the ten miles into St. Michaels for dinner that first evening.
I chose an Italian restaurant called Limoncello. Traveling with a dog in summer means you often have to sacrifice fine dining for a casual restaurant with a patio. But Limoncello had both, and a waiter named Jim who brought Annie a bowl of water and several pieces of chopped steak as a treat.
I ordered Sacchetti con Pera & Gorgonzola (petite pasta purses filled with pears and cheese, Gorgonzola sauce, crushed walnuts). It was delicious.
Later that evening I sat with Annie and a glass of wine on the back porch and listened to the night sounds of the country. I felt as if I were back in Grandma Lott’s house in Oklahoma.
Everything was going to be okay.
Tilghman Island – Population 784 – Elevation 7′
The next morning I drove to Tilghman Island for breakfast.
Tilghman turned out to be a pleasant surprise. A tiny fishing village, it nevertheless has several restaurants. I chose Two If By Sea, which is housed in a structure built in 1866 and seats about 10 people.
But look at page 1 of their amazing breakfast menu.
I passed right over all the Eggs Benedict and opted for scrambled eggs, sausage, grilled asparagus, and English muffin, mainly for the asparagus, which was perfectly seared and cooked to just the right al dente.
I would definitely come back for another breakfast.
And guess what . . . the chef offered Italian and French cooking classes! Maybe I would take a class during my two-week stay.
But then . . .
. . . my great expectations started to crack.
On Day 2, a snake appeared on the back porch and slithered under the covered grill. I took a picture and sent it to the manager. Oh, it’s just a black snake, she said. The rain brings them out.
The next morning I found Annie’s food bowl swarming with ants. I attacked them with a can of Raid I found under the sink. I called the manager. Oh, ants, she said. The rain brings them out.
The next night Annie got sick and I had to make a midnight run to an emergency vet in Easton. Turned out she just had an upset stomach, but — a piece of good luck — the vet, Scott Thompson, was wonderful, even better than the vets I loved in Taos.
When we got back to Blue Bird after the emergency vet run, some surviving ants were meandering around the living room and bedroom floors. I sprayed them again and then went to the second bedroom to sleep. Pulled the decorative pillows off the bed and a spider ran across the bedspread. This is from the video I took:
The next day I called the manager and told her about the spider and that I was leaving. Oh, it’s just a spider, she said, the rain probably brings them out too.
I checked into a hotel in Easton, and that was the end of ants, spiders and snakes.
St. Michaels – Population 1,000 – Elevation 10′
St. Michaels was a delight, a picturesque little town with some really good restaurants.
I especially liked those on the water with outdoor seating where there was a breeze and a welcoming bowl of water for Annie. I tried The Lighthouse Oyster Bar & Grill (seafood salad) Foxy’s Harbour Grill (fish & chips), and Michaels Crab and Steakhouse (fish & chips again).
Easton – Population 16,000 – Elevation 23′
Easton almost made ants, spiders and snakes of Neavitt disappear.
Its virtues: A compact, tree-shaded, walkable downtown; easy 3-hour parking on the street in the shade; a nice park for walking Annie; a decent grocery store — and did I mention a great veterinarian?
The two restaurants I sampled in Easton – twice each — were Scossa and the Tavern at the Tidewater Inn. The food at both was great, and Annie was allowed to sit at my feet.
Scossa Restaurant
Dinner 1: Caesar Salad with White Anchovies, and Risotto with Lobster
Dinner 2: Beef Carpaccio with Asparagus, and Spinach & Ricotta Ravioli with Butter & Sage (trying to work in some veggies).
The Tavern at Tidewater Inn
Dinner #1: Grilled Watermelon and Feta Salad, and Surf & Turf, which was a crab cake with remoulade sauce, and petite filet, Yukon gold mashed potatoes, and asparagus.
I ordered the Surf & Turf . . . so I could have the crab cake and share the filet with Annie. Both yummy.
I could almost picture living in Easton but the humidity made the heat — in the mid-80s — almost unbearable. I felt sticky all the time, the way I had years ago in Oklahoma and Houston.
I had planned to stay four more days, but rain was forecast for the rest of the week with temperatures in the 90s. And, there was a sign outside the hardware store saying “Mosquitoes are Coming, Get Your Fogger Here.”
Already I’d had to deal with snakes and spiders and ants. I didn’t feel like battling mosquitoes too.
On my original loose itinerary my next stop was supposed to be either Asheville, NC or Charleston, SC. There were thunderstorms and hot muggy weather predicted for both. So I decided to head North.
Why Burlington?
Burlington was not on my original itinerary. The Eastern Shore was going to be the northernmost point on my road trip because I was fairly certain it would be the place I would want to live.
Well, you can see how that worked out.
The next stop on my itinerary was supposed to be Asheville, North Carolina or Charleston, South Carolina, but temperatures for both were forecast to be in the 90s with humidity almost that high and thunderstorms every day.
Weeks earlier, when I had talked with Cynthia and Rey about my trip, Rey urged me to go to Burlington. He had lived there for several years and loved it. Cynthia was equally enthusiastic. They suggested a Hilton Hotel that overlooks Lake Champlain which has a brilliant fireworks display for the Fourth of July.
I’d had enough of hot and muggy, I looked at the weather forecast for Burlington — temperatures would be in the low 80’s, humidity around 50%.
So I thought, Why not Burlington?
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