Cape Cod - A Serenity Unmatched

Sunset on Crosby Beach

Last week I escaped from the tediousness of my life and traveled to Cape Cod for the first time in many years. (I'll just get it out of the way now and let you know that yes, it was before Hurricane Irene hit, and yes, I am fine. Thanks for your concern.) My boyfriend, his mom, his sister, and I stayed at a Tidewater Inn in South Yarmouth for only three nights, but they were the most pleasant three nights I have experienced in a while. I underestimated the effect of immersing my toes in the water and ass in the sand with not a worry in the world and a cold beer in my hand. (Credit to Zac Brown Band for those perfect words used in this song.)

On the first day -- after we convinced ourselves that the sheets in the room were clean despite the smudges on them and learned that the scent of deodorizer was so potent that we couldn't help but gag -- we coasted to a small beach on the bay side along the bicep of Massachusetts. The calm water felt like it was 80-90 degrees, and the cool breeze provided the perfect respite from the constant sun. The serenity I felt at that moment is indescribable. It was a peace achieved within myself that could never be attained around my loud -- but lovable -- family. Only the sounds of the waves washing on shore and a distant radio playing country music filled my head. Before I could fall asleep, I picked up my book of choice for the trip: George R. R. Martin's A Game of Thrones, the first book in his series A Song of Ice and Fire.

[Quick side note: If you haven't watched the first season of the HBO series "Game of Thrones," do yourself a favor and watch it right now. It has something for everyone -- love, war, sex, violence, foreign accents, and Peter Dinklage are included. I started the book after I watched the series, and the show follows almost exactly. I should rephrase my words; finish reading this blog post, and THEN go watch.]

Back to the Cape...
There's nothing I would rather be doing than reading an enthralling novel on the beach. There is something about that particular atmosphere that lends itself to living in the novel rather than just reading the words. That is, of course, unless you become distracted by the pesty seagull drawn to your sandwich. At one point, my boyfriend turned to me and asked if I was enjoying myself even though we were doing nothing. I laughed and told him I wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

The next day, we went "critter digging" -- as my boyfriend's family calls it -- which is nothing more than walking out with the tide and finding keepsakes living or dead in the pools of salt water. After a long walk, however, we realized we must have read a tide chart wrong because the water crept up almost to our waists on our journey back. We did manage to find some large hermit crabs, snails, and seashells, but nothing too exciting. That night, we visited the nearest Cape Cod Creamery. Talk about heaven in your mouth. The menu didn't boast the biggest selection of ice cream flavors I've ever seen, but this homemade ice cream knocks store-bought crap out of the park. I chose the black raspberry with gummy bears (always necessary). For more information and locations of this utopian creamery, click here.

After a somewhat un-restful night's sleep, we sat on the beach for a short time on Tuesday to soak up just enough sun but not enough to fry. We stopped for lunch at a local place that served delectable fried clams, which satisfied my overwhelming craving for them. Later in the day, I ended up on the trampolines with my boyfriend's sister. You know those blocks of around 15 trampolines situated in a closed off, rectangular area that are always filled with jumping children under ten years old? Well, I was there, too; and I'm mature enough to admit that I enjoyed every second of it. Oh, and after that, I rocked at mini golf...at least for the first nine holes.

After I had my childish fun, I treated us to dinner at the best Italian food place I have ever been -- excluding the restaurants I visited in Italy. The restaurant was called DiParma Italian Table, and anyone visiting this area of the Cape should seek it out. I highly recommend the garlic bread and the linguine with white clam sauce. The bread melted in your mouth in a bite of buttery, garlicky goodness, and the linguine was loaded with fresh clams. It wasn't the cheapest meal, but I would gladly indulge my taste buds here again. For an online menu and information, click here. Even though the beds at our inn were hard and uncomfortable, I slept through the night without disturbance from my ensuing food coma.

Pat and me on the beach

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and I can only wish that there will be more vacations like this one. Although it only lasted three nights, I could not have asked for a more relaxing and enjoyable experience with the people I care about. Sometimes doing nothing means everything. All I can do now is relish in the memories and hope for next year.