When it was decided that, by way of respite from our two big city destinations, we would probably need some oxygenated air, Ros came up with the idea of Bar Harbor, a small resort town on the coast of Maine. I was sceptical at first, but discovered that, whilst there were no trains, or even buses, there was an airport.
And so, I set about finding flights, only to discover that no major American airline flies there. On the other hand, United would sell me a ticket to get to Bar Harbor from New York, with an aircraft switch at Boston. And yes, I did note that the connecting flight was on a Cessna 402...
Anyway, having made it to Newark's Liberty Airport, our first flight was somewhat delayed. Indeed, it was late enough to jeopardise our connection, entailing a breathless dash through Logan Airport in Boston to get to our gate. We were, thank heavens, just in time to be questioned as to our weight, which seemed not to be problematic.
And then, with seven other people, we were led down a flight of stairs and out across the tarmac to a mosquito-sized aircraft, where our hand luggage was taken from us and a rollcall taken by first names. Seats were assigned and we were off, the pilot's window open so as to allow some fresh air into the cabin.
We taxied across the airport before taking our place in the queue for take-off, dwarfed by the Boeing 737s and the like all doing the same thing. Frankly, we could have been run over and I don't think that many people would have noticed.
On a Cessna 402, every seat is a window seat, especially 1B, which would be the co-pilot's seat were Cape Air to have any, but instead increases the passenger capacity to nine. There is a rather good in-flight magazine, although it does take second place to the incredible views of the New England shoreline.
However, after an otherwise uneventful flight, we arrived at Bar Harbor's Hancock County Airport in bright sunshine. As a final reminder that we weren't on a big faceless airline, the couple waiting in the arrivals lounge turned out to be our pilot's mum and dad.
So, Cape Air is probably not recommended for nervous fliers. However, it got us to our destination on time, and in time for a lobster supper...
Anyway, having made it to Newark's Liberty Airport, our first flight was somewhat delayed. Indeed, it was late enough to jeopardise our connection, entailing a breathless dash through Logan Airport in Boston to get to our gate. We were, thank heavens, just in time to be questioned as to our weight, which seemed not to be problematic.
And then, with seven other people, we were led down a flight of stairs and out across the tarmac to a mosquito-sized aircraft, where our hand luggage was taken from us and a rollcall taken by first names. Seats were assigned and we were off, the pilot's window open so as to allow some fresh air into the cabin.
We taxied across the airport before taking our place in the queue for take-off, dwarfed by the Boeing 737s and the like all doing the same thing. Frankly, we could have been run over and I don't think that many people would have noticed.
On a Cessna 402, every seat is a window seat, especially 1B, which would be the co-pilot's seat were Cape Air to have any, but instead increases the passenger capacity to nine. There is a rather good in-flight magazine, although it does take second place to the incredible views of the New England shoreline.
However, after an otherwise uneventful flight, we arrived at Bar Harbor's Hancock County Airport in bright sunshine. As a final reminder that we weren't on a big faceless airline, the couple waiting in the arrivals lounge turned out to be our pilot's mum and dad.
So, Cape Air is probably not recommended for nervous fliers. However, it got us to our destination on time, and in time for a lobster supper...
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