Jo Lord
Google
Alright, so if you’ve got two big dogs that basically own your life, this place is a godsend ‘cause they’ll let your furry monsters hop right up on the bed. And trust me, that’s a huge bonus when you’re too tired to argue with your giant canine roommates. Across the street there’s this seedy dive bar—but hey, if you’re already three sheets to the wind, they’ve got breadsticks that probably taste like gourmet gold after your sixth beer.
Now, let’s talk about the actual inn. Picture an American Ninja Warrior obstacle course, but it’s indoors and all the hurdles are random staircases and awkward corners. There’s no rhyme or reason to it—like some demented Hogwarts for cheap travelers. Hallways lead to more hallways, then suddenly there’s a step or two you gotta hop, like the floor’s throwing a surprise party for your ankles. If you come back drunk, good luck remembering where you stashed your room key, let alone how to get to your bed.
Speaking of which, the beds here don’t creak too bad, so that’s a small mercy. And if you’re into late-night serenades, you might get lucky and have some rando strumming his guitar in the next room at 2 AM, basically auditioning for America’s Got Talent—except I’m pretty sure this dude was actually living there. You’ll also run into a mixed bag of guests: you got your scraggly folks, a bunch of lesbians, and every once in a while, rumor has it there’s a sex offender on the roster. So, you know, keep your eyes peeled and lock your door.
Is it cheap? Hell yes. Is it kinda charming on a miserable Maine winter night? Weirdly, yeah. The staff’s friendly enough—they won’t judge you when you stumble in with your furry beasts and a bag full of leftover breadsticks. So if you can handle a quirky, low-budget labyrinth, this is your spot. Just try not to break an ankle on the way to your room, and you’ll be fine.