|
|
Brian- Wading, but not jumping into, in the Atlantic ocean |
|
|
|
|
|
|
Bus- 6094 Total- 6676 |
(1047 total) |
|
(average per gallon) |
|
|
|
|
|
North Truro, MA |
New York City |
Daily Narrative The day actually began early, in our tent next to our 2000 Dodge Stratus. Theresa, enjoying the frills of the Stratus, seized the wheel and torpedoed towards Woods Hole, Massachusetts, where we planned to catch a ferry to see Brian's old buddy Scott on Martha's Vineyard. When we arrived in the vicinity of Woods Hole, we got one of those good tuition free tourist lessons. The island of Martha's Vineyard was apparently full for the holidays. Well, not exactly the island itself, but any parking for vehicles of ferry passengers. Primary, overflow and overflow-overflow lots were full for twenty miles. We fell back to what must be "Plan B-5" by now and headed to Hyannis, where ferries also take folks to Martha's Vineyard. The scene was better there, but the cost was significantly higher and the wait significantly longer. "Plan B-6" involved aborting Martha's Vineyard and heading west to the Berkshires for the night. A phone call turned up a canceled campsite reservation at the tip of Cape cod, and "Plan B-7" took us to the pretty awesome Horton's Camping Resort (yeah it's really just a campground, but it is full of funky Cape Cod trees). We registered and headed for some food in Provincetown, where the pilgrims actually landed. Brian had been here years back and remembered it being a place where alternative lifestyles were prominent, which, in fact, is even more so the case on a holiday weekend. Theresa was very impressed by the walk up and down the crowded Main Street area and also enjoyed a little shopping. We visited the Provincetown museum, a small place with an eclectic assortment of exhibits. Along with the predictable Pilgrim exhibits, there was also an impressive collection of Ked tennis shoes and ceramic aquarium decorations. Behind the museum is by far the tallest structure in Provincetown, the Pilgrim Monument, which we boldly climbed. After returning to our camp ground, we took a stroll on the beach and waded in the chilly Atlantic Ocean and then called it a night.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|