A solid lobster roll – plump meat unfettered by mayo or secret sauce – is worth the drive to Maine alone. Last month I had the excuse of scouting and reviewing the cosy, nine-room Captain Fairfield Inn, for work, which, it turns out, is a much better cover-up for a summery lobster roll craving in March. Despite a season spent canvassing nearly 240-piney, boggy, craggy miles on foot, earning rent (and splinters) splitting firewood and nestling in quaint Camden for a few months, along with return trips over the years, I will never get enough of Maine. It’s rugged, a bit stand-offish and slow to warm-up: all the makings of the perfect crush, no? We were all so charmed by the off-season pace of leisurely dinners, wide open vistas and satisfying silence, that I hope we’ll make this an annual family trek.
GHG posts have been scant, and this tea tableau in an indication of what’s been distracting me. No, not idle afternoons spent with a cuppa and scones, but rather, I’ve taken a new editor post at Mr & Mrs Smith, a UK-based travel site of hand-picked boutique hotels that are researched by discerning scouts and then anonymously reviewed. I spent a week in London, along with my remarkably talented co-editor, Kate Thorman, under the tutelage of the sharp and whip-smart edit team there. A group who, aside from being all that professionally, take their tea breaks very seriously, and a few times a day.
It’s such a friendly, convivial ritual, and for the first time I understood the importance of this act. More than a routine gesture, it’s all about the act of slowing down to share something other than work banter during the busy day. Taking a moment – even to step away from your desk for lunch – can be rare in the U.S. working world. But deadlines always loom and that to-do list will grow either way, so I’m going to try and remember to stop and take a few minutes for a mind-clearing cup of tea. Care to join me?