Time … she is afleeting, on very swift winged feet, and while we’ve been temporarily lent to New York City we might as well get to see what’s around it in the time left to us. Don’t you think?
So we took ourselves off, via the lovely Charles River greenbelt of
Boston, to Provincetown at the apex of the Cape Cod peninsula that sweeps into a curve like a scorpion's tail. A charming little village lining a shoreline bobbing with boats, we loved the peak-roofed architecture with its shingles and balconies and decorative woodwork. Little magic gardens were crammed with flowers and trailing creepers and obscured pathways. And restauranteurs took good advantage of wooden decks leveraged over the sand with views across the ocean.
You could spend all day wandering into a long line of whimsical stores selling wares from jewellery and trinkets to Eastern artefacts to fudge and saltwater taffy (soft chewy candy wrapped in paper with twisted ends). And it’s not made with saltwater. Just in case you asked.
Or you could sit at a deck railing with a little chilled something in front of you, watching the ferry forge in and out of the tiny harbour.
They’re big on clams and lobster and crab in this little town, but there are also some excellent eating hideouts tucked away behind the main street, where imagination and the freshest ingredients produce amazing taste sensations.