Thursday we were meant to get up at 6.30am to get a train out to the airport to collect a car, and in true fashion neither of us slept well and were awake long before this. The journey out to collect our car was frustrating and as such when collecting the car I decided to get on the road and failed to adjust my mirrors or assess the car for damage(did so later, all was fine). We had a pale green ford focus that was a reliable drive but looked like an item of clothing your ageing style-less Aunt has bought you for your birthday and insists on you wearing (Disclaimer: my Aunts are neither ageing nor style-less, and in fact do buy nice clothes).
On our first toll the guy asked if 'your plates are regular', if anyone knows what this means please put it on a stamped address envelope to the usual address. On the way to the very end of the Cape we pulled off 3 times to get coffee for the weary driver (me), but first we found K-Mart, which I imagined would be Asda's retarded gay niece, and two roads that promised fast food chains that after miles of driving never appeared, so we cracked on.
For those of you who don't know, Provincetown is where the gay pilgrims landed and immediately set up flashy boutiques and luxury food stores, bought very small dogs (presumably off some very confused Native American Indians, which I assume was the birth of the Village People) and donned their uniform of tank tops and short shorts very proudly. In short we arrived in glorious sunshine, had a look around, which was nice but decided to leave when we were offered a pedicure from a very openly homosexual man who I imagine was called Xavier or Hensel. I have nothing against homosexuals, their food is excellent, their style to some extent is very good and they are a very clean type of person, however this wasn't Brighton's very subtle gay undertone, this was Big Gay Al's village and everything was 'Super, thanks for asking!' and had a vibe of 'we work hard, we play hard!'
We spent the afternoon at Nauset Beach, just up from Orleans, it was amazing. Beautiful weather, beautiful people, the beach was stunning and the water was warmer than Lake Michigan.
We bought lunch from Provincetown so needless to say the pasta pot was fantastic. Then after a few hours of converting our backs into back-bacon we decided to drive the long way around the Cape via Falmouth back to Boston. It was in short a wonderful view of all the creeks and boatyards the Cape is famous with, and every town we went through you could smell the seafood restaurants pumping out the fumes of baked clams and other seafood to entice weary travelling in like sirens and wreck their back accounts.
If you know me a little, you will know I am a huge follower (can't say fan all the time) of the Kennedy's and these little creaks made my mind wander to what the cars they would drive up the routes and what spoilt or philanderous antics they would get up to on the tiny off roads.
On the way back we managed to take a wrong turn for the airport (which avoided the toll) and I ended up driving around downtown Boston's financial district which was at the time intimidating but immediately after very funny. We capped the night off with some beers in the room (don't tell the hostel) and a looooooooooooooooong sleep.
*Dedicated to the steal workers of America, Keep reaching for that rainbow!
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