The first
full day on the Outer Cape. No
beach. No fishing. No boating.
No returning to the house at five, hanging towels, brushing sand off
feet, showering and changing for the evening with cocktails at six and dinner
at seven. No laughter. No stories.
I awoke earlier
than usual to hear hard, freezing rain drumming against the bedroom
window. Skies were dark grey and the
trees were dancing in a north wind.
Finding coffee I logged on to the Weather Channel and noted that the
temperature was three degrees Celsius. Actually
I should have known that when I dashed out to the car to retrieve a phone
charger.
Today has
been a day of visiting familiar places at an easy pace, and getting a few
errands done. Cappuccino at the Hot Chocolate
Sparrow in Orleans was not one of these but a personal, pleasurable
indulgence. It has to rank in my “top
five” of coffee shops anywhere, and on a cold day like today I think half the
town agreed with me. It was packed.
A visit to
Snows Department Store just across Main Street (where I resisted the temptation
to spend any money in their new, expanded railway and modeling department but
made a wish list) was followed by the practical shopping for victuals at Stop ‘n
Shop. This included some traditional
bare necessities for a couple of days on the Outer cape: Linguica sausage and local Portuguese bread.
Heading
north again on Route 6 I drove past the dozens of tourist-dependent businesses,
most of which were showing signs of preparation for the new season. I was happy to see that that Marconi Beach
Restaurant in South Wellfleet (in my opinion some of the best BBQ around) had
already opened, but due to the vagaries of the Massachusetts licensing laws
could not serve liquor until the first of April. Damn those Puritans!
Passing that
eatery, where in season they burn hickory logs in a burner in front of the
restaurant to tempt passers-by, I turned east to visit the historical site where
Marconi made the first wireless transmission originating in the USA to the King
of England on the 18th of January 1903. A special place for me, not only on account
of my interest in radio and its history but because Kate and I visited there
once upon a time. It was the last trip
we made before she became a teenager and all the changes that that entails.
I parked the
car, pulled on another sweater, and walked two hundred feet into the wind to
the site. Where previously there had
been a covered shelter with a detailed scale model of the original transmitter
site (under Perspex) – today there was nothing. (See photo above.) My heart sank, but I had no time to think any
more because the wind increased and I was pelted by large hail flying off the Atlantic
Ocean. All my head stung with the cold
and the impact as I dashed back to the warm car. Then I saw the notice of explanation. Recent storms had destroyed most of the
exhibits and made the site too dangerous for reconstruction. Another piece of
history, and the roots of another memory gone.
In commiseration
I will cook for dinner a stew of mussels and linguica, with linguine and
spinach. Cocktail hour has arrived so I
will mix a martini with blueberry-infused vodka. And think about tomorrow.
Tomorrow,
Tuesday, the tides a right for a hike out to Provincetown’s two southern,
historical lighthouses: Wood End and
Long Point. A round trip of some seven
miles, the first section of which is over a mile of rocky breakwater, it ought
to be a good first hike of the season. But
I am watching the weather. As I write it
is snowing hard…
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