Two days after school ended I put the dog in the car and drove nine hours to Cape Cod. I had looked at beach places to rent in North Carolina, Delaware, and even the Jersey shore but they were all in the thousands of dollars and little remained. In the DMV it was 90 plus degrees with 100% humidity in June. As someone who lived much of her life in the northeast I needed a New England fix. Here’s what happened.

I booked an Airbnb for a week and then convinced myself to leave right after school. Sitting in the house and losing my mind is not away to decompress. I had to go to Massachusetts over a screw-up with a title selling a truck I owned and trying to deal with it from home put me in a bureaucratic hell that apparently could go on for months. So I rented an Airbnb and left a week earlier than I had planned.

The weather on the Cape was flawless, the summer season didn’t begin until July 4th weekend, and the area around Wellfleet (yes where some of the best oysters in the world come from) was in the 60s and 70s with no humidity. I won.

My Airbnb fell through and to their credit I got a full refund. I found a one bedroom apartment that had not yet been deep cleaned and she gave me two free nights as she made it livable. So I ended up paying just under $700 for six nights in a cute one bedroom cottage behind someone’s house with a deck, a yard and a quick drive to Close Encounter Beach in Eastham. I had read that dogs were not allowed on the beach in the Cape (and they really enforce it), so the night I found the locals playing with their dogs right before sunset I found my beach. When I mentioned the dog ban one dog mom said “I live here year round. Don’t pay any attention to that.”

The Brickhouse Restaurant in Eastham had the distinct honor of being the worst restaurant I’ve ever been to. From the dirty martini that was made by pouring pickle juice or some other vile substance into a shaker, adding ice, vodka and I hate to think of what else was the worst drink I’ve ever had. Next they brought Oysters Rockefeller drowning in cream with barely a hint of where the oyster once was - someone else must have eaten them. The spinach made me throw up later. All the while the manager and the waiter worked hard at being nice as I sent back food. Did manage a few bites of mediocre clam chowder.

Not a Dog Friendly Place

Without the beach during the day, Cape Cod became a place where you visit towns. That’s where I learned that restaurants were either really dog friendly (meaning they gave her water, a bone and a seat on a restaurant’s porch), or just plain said no.

Chatham is a sweet little Cape town with a main street people stroll and find things to buy. Kind of boring, but we diligently walked it, found nothing and then went to the Wild Goose Tavern which had a back patio where they loved on my dog Roo. Burgers perfectly cooked, wine drinkable and delightful wait staff. Not bad for a first day.

The Lobster and Drag Queen Brunch

Wellfleet was a much bigger hit. The town dock had a seafood restaurant, pooches everywhere. They sold a selection of fried everything and grilled fish. Our last night we went back and bought a two pound lobster who looked straight at me as he was pulled from the tank.

“I’m really sorry,” I said to him, then realized I had spoken aloud. The people behind the counter giggled at the tourist. Thy cooked it and sent me home with the best lobster dinner ever. I hope its lobster family forgives me.

Provincetown was the last adventure, a strip of a town with joyous LGBTQ+ people just being whoever they wanted to be. We watched a drag queen brunch ensemble with much strutting, then ate ice cream, played a bit in the sand, which no one cared about and called it a day.

The MVA’s lines were endless so I picked up the forms for a new title and mailed them back. Did I mention that Wellfleet has a shop that embraced legal cannabis and a system to make it feel like a visit to an old friend’s basement in high school? It does.

The drive home was endless but we did it - success and the beach!