A Morning In Barnstable
I woke up in Barnstable, Massachusetts with quite possibly one of my best nights of sleep yet. Well, that is if you don’t count the alarm I set for four in the morning. The International Space Station was going to be passing over our house and I’d never seen such a thing before.
Unfortunately, anyone who knows anything about space, knows that objects tend to travel extremely fast up there. It would only be above us from 4:51AM until 4:56AM. I bet you can guess what time I got out of bed: 4:57AM. If you missed that answer, I’ll give you one more chance at the guessing game: When did I go back to bed? Correct, also at 4:57AM. It was a short-lived fever dream. However, the space race lives on and I’m sure I’ll have another opportunity in the future.
We were spoiled with another home-cooked meal for breakfast from the friends we were staying with. Their house was situated in the beginning of Cape Cod and my absolute favorite part had to be their rooftop view. Climbing a small ladder, you’d open up the trap door and step out into what was essentially the crow’s nest of a ship. From here, you could drool over the fall foliage, watch the sailboats drift by, or squint your eyes to see the tip of the cape. I enjoyed doing all three of these.
Driving Up Cape Cod
Though we had our fair share of coffee with friends over breakfast, I believe that there’s no such thing as too much in the mornings. Thirty minutes later, we found ourselves at Snowy Owl Coffee Roasters, each equipped with a strong latte.
Our goal that morning was to drive down Cape Cod until we reached the end ourselves. Provincetown was maybe forty more minutes down the road, but it wasn’t without entertainment. Unlike Los Angeles, I was surprised to find us in a traffic jam. A pickup truck had smashed a convertible—don’t worry, everyone was okay, just a little butthurt. However, instead of letting others pass, a few locals were giddy to finally see some form of excitement in the small town.
Two men with beer guts sticking out between their flannels and Levi’s were now standing in the middle of the road, grins wider than the pumpkin I’d carved for Halloween. One of the men felt particularly important to be there. He held a giant coffee in one hand and used to other to stop the traffic, letting it stack up behind us. Eventually, a woman came out of the shop from behind and put him in his right mind, telling him things like, “What do you think you’re doing?” and, “Get off that road immediately.” We were on our way shortly after.
A Walk Into Provincetown
I was lucky this morning because I had my own tour guide built into Provincetown. A friend I used to work with in Los Angeles had just moved up to Cape Cod and was eager to explore with us. Parking at her house, she took us on a walking tour through the cobblestone streets.
“So, that’s like the only women’s clothing store and over there is my favorite restaurant—Oh hey Tim!” she waved at a local enjoying his coffee, “I went to this bar here yesterday. The best thing about coming here from LA is that I went from like a 3 to a 10. My confidence is through the roof.”
I began to realize that, not only is Provincetown a very tiny place, but it’s home to a majority of men, most of which who are not straight. Gay pride flags adorned the businesses, drag queens performed at brunch and events like Bear Week took over the streets. My friend explained that the best time to be here was Halloween because everyone dresses up and it is almost always surely a good time. Soaking in the vibes, I simply could not disagree with that statement. Provincetown was like microdosing West Hollywood.
Sailing Club vs. Ice Cream: You Decide
“So, this is a sailing club, I got kicked out of here when I was, like, 10 years old for spending all of my fundraising money on ice cream for myself—Oh there’s my yoga teacher!”
We kept on walking and in about twenty minutes we had made it through the entire town with a leisurely stroll. Standing on the jetty, we could now see the end of Cape Cod clearly. There were infinite shades of blue reflecting back on me off of the water—turquoise was my favorite. The skies were without clouds and the sun was shining brightly through the strong winds. We turned around, heading back through town in the same direction, until I realized I needed to see something through.
“Do you wanna get ice cream? I feel like I need to see for myself if it’s worth getting kicked out of the sailing club for.”
I have to say, I saw her point. The macchiato ice cream was to die for. The creamy chocolate melted in my mouth, but not after running like a river over every tastebud. Every once in a while I would be blessed with an espresso bean, putting the two coffees I’d already enjoyed for breakfast to shame. If you think about it, no one really needs a sailing club, anyway.
The Beauty of Cape Cod
After a beautiful morning exploring her new home, we said our final goodbyes and took the long way back through Truro. The houses here were the same color as the sea and it was as if someone had clicked copy, paste, lining them identically through the vibrant green grass. This was Cape Cod. It was shoreline houses, friendly neighbors and mom and pop stores. However, it was also a rich land of summer homes and wild nights. It had multiple personalities and whoever visited was able to choose which version they’d like, but me? I enjoyed my version of a crisp fall day on the cobblestone with friends.
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