I think it's been well-established that I don't do much domestic travel for sightseeing purposes.
Oh, I travel a lot. For sure. But it's been to mostly visit friends, people I'm in a relationship with because I live in a different city, home to visit family, for work...
I don't do "leisure" travel domestically. Weekend trips are rare - though I did go to Palm Springs in December... Followed by Disneyland. And there was a cannabis retreat in Evergreen, Colorado earlier last year. And a trip to Madison.
But my view has been that if I am going to do leisure travel, it's going to be internationally. (And Canada doesn't count, by the way.) It's going to require me to get on a plane, fly for hours over an ocean, and the need of a passport.
So the idea - wherever I live - of "going away for the weekend" isn't a thing for me.
- "Let's get away to the cottage and visit the lake!"
- "Let's getaway to Catalina for a few days."
- "Let's head to upstate (NY) and relax for the weekend!"
- "How about the Vineyard? Maine? Vermont? Or Cape Cod?"
This last one was asked of me a number of times throughout my residency in Boston. My friends knew I had never done any of those, and this month out in Boston was a time they intended to change that.
"We're going to Churro this weekend," Frogger said to me.
"We're going to get churros? Like the dessert at Disneyland?" I asked, excited.
"No," she sighed at my unsophistication. "Truro. It's a town on Cape Cod."
I agreed. It sounded fun. And we would be going to a vineyard in Truro with our other friend, Bail.
They picked me up late Saturday morning, and we began the drive down and out to the Cape.
"Now," Frogger said, "I have to warn you. Traffic can be really bad."
I laughed. Massachusetts traffic has absolutely nothing on SoCal traffic. I can handle sitting in a car that doesn't move at all for an hour, just to get 20 miles.
When we got close, we stopped off at a coffee shop to grab some food. We were going to be tasting wine in an hour, and I hadn't eaten anything at all yet that day.
The weather was perfect. Slight windy, but sunny. And warm enough.
We arrived at the vineyard
(Click to slide the pictures.)
The wine itself was "meh." I did pick up a bottle of their rose (not the blush) wine to drink when it gets warmer in May or June. (I'll be putting it in my new apartment when I go to pick up the keys later this month.) The vineyard itself was gorgeous.
We were done with the wine tasting and walking around after about an hour.
"What should we do next?" I asked.
"We could drive further up the Cape and see another town," suggested Bail. "And then we can do dinner in Hyannis."
"Isn't that where the Kennedy compound is?" I asked.
Confirmation was given on that one. While I had no desire to see it, the idea of a very "Cape" dinner sounded nice. As did getting further up the Cape.
"How about Provincetown?" I asked. "I know so many gay men who have told me over the years about the amazing weekends they have getting away to P-town."
It was decided. We would drive the few miles up to Provincetown.
(Click to slide the pictures.)
It was just like I'd pictured it. And because the season doesn't start for another six weeks, it wasn't too crowded and parking was free.
Even though it is a small Cape town, it had shops with some of my favorite things... Including Johnathan Adler and Alessi home stuff. I also spotted a sex toy shop with a sex swing on display in the window. And then a really legit coffee shop with a ram (my astrological sign) on the logo.
I wondered how much a vacation condo home in the area would cost. But I didn't want to scare myself by looking.
We visited a number of jewelry shops, and I picked up some sage from a new age shop that had just opened for the season. We'd walked the distance of Commercial Street in both directions. And then it was time to start heading back down the Cape.
The landscape of the drive was different than what I grew up with on long weekend drives to my grandparents in Phoenix from Southern Arizona. Instead of mountain landscapes and desert plants, it was pockets of ocean tucked behind patches of woods.
Dinner was at a high-rated place from Yelp.
It was a known spot in West Yarmouth. And because I was in New England - the only region where I will eat seafood - I did order a very "New England" dinner: Lobster and a filet.
We were stuffed and headed back to Boston, arriving home at about 9pm. The long day had worn me out. But I was happy to have gotten a chance to take a day trip to some place new.