“Won’t Cape Cod be crowded at this time of year?” Bella turns to her husband, Wayne. He is busy looking out of the window, so she nudges him. “Wayne? Are you listening to me?”
Wayne turns his head and smiles at his wife. “All the time. Every word.” He smiles, and Bella snorts. “Ha! An unlikely story.”
“It may be crowded. We’ve been to Japan, and London, and Berlin; those were more than crowded.”
Bella nods. “You’re right.”
Wayne takes her hand and squeezes it. “In cities of a million people or a beach with a million grains of sand, I have only eyes and ears for you, my Dear.”
Bella laughs loudly. “So you did have a Mimosa with breakfast this morning!”
The two laugh as the tour bus rushes towards its destination.
Home to the many wild vines that call the island their home, Martha’s Vineyards has always been connected with wine. However, the Chicama Vineyards winery sadly closed its doors in 2008. Not to worry! The towns of Edgartown and Oak Bluffs both have good wine stores.
Bella and Wayne look out over the windswept harbor. The Woods Hole Ferry toots as it sails slowly past. “This is beautiful.” Bella sips her cranberry juice. “If this juice were warm, it would remind me of mulled wine.”
Wayne nods. “It does. I prefer it cold though. I loved the wine we had in Italy. An interesting idea making a cordial from the cranberries. Do you remember getting caught in the storm when we were here last?”
Bella laughs. “How could I forget? 1972. You asked me to marry you in Chicago. I said yes, and we drove to Boston, and then here. 50 years ago.” Bella smiles. “Those were good days.”
“I remember you saying yes. Did we drive to Boston afterward?”
“We did. We stopped at Brown first so I could see my friends. You remember I went to Brown I hope?”
“Of course.” Wayne laughs. “You and your books. I think that’s why we went to Paris - so you could buy books.”
“Oh yes! Don’t forget, I want to go to that book store in Falmouth before we leave.”
Wayne nods and smiles. “Of course you do.”
Cape Cod is quite famous for its cranberry bogs. Cranberries have been harvested on the Cape since the early 1800s. Cape Gooseberries are another thing - they are native to South America, not Cape Cod. Cranberries are quite healthy for you, offering both antioxidants and vitamins.
“The Island has had several names but was named Martha’s Vineyard after the daughter of explorer Bartholomew Gosnold in 1602. There weren’t any proper wineries on the Island until 1971 when Chicama Vineyards opened its doors in West Tisbury.” Visit MV
The original 1975 and more recent Poldark television series was set in Cornwall, not Cape Cod. Of course, you knew this. Not to be missed while you are in Truro is a romantic walk along Corn Hill Beach. Falmouth is a haven for book lovers. Chatham has wonderful restaurants. Both Cornwall and Cape Cod have a laid-back feel that connects them both.
Nowhere on your travels will you find rugged men with ponytails, riding their trusty steeds through craggy heath. For that, you will need to read the novel or watch the television series.
“What are you thinking?” Wayne nibbles on breaded oysters and looks at his wife.
“I was just thinking about horseback riding.”
Wayne laughs. “We haven’t done that in some time. I don’t think I even could.”
“You were so romantic when we were in Greece. Perhaps you could find a horse and whisk me away.”
Wayne thinks for a moment, then looks up. “I have an idea!”
He gets up and walks out of the small cafe they have stopped at for lunch in Chatham. A few moments later he appears, astride a tricycle rickshaw, ringing the bell. “May I whisk you away, my Dear?”
Bella laughs and calls for the check.
“Cape Cod and Cornwall: We are mirroring coastal communities on opposite sides of the Atlantic Ocean. Cornwall is the “toe” of England, a peninsula projecting westward toward North America. Cape Cod is an “arm” thrust eastward. We even share some town names, including... Falmouth.” CapeAndIslands.org
On your way to Nauset Beach for the air, Wellfleet to eat oysters, don’t forget to get off the bus for a quiet walk in Nickerson State Park in Brewster. After an hour of sitting on a bus, no matter how comfy, you’ll want to stretch your legs.
Bella and Wayne have moved away from the bulk of the tour group, walking hand in hand through the trees to the shore of the lake. “Want to dive in?” Wayne laughs.
Bella snorts. “Far too cold for me! You go ahead.”
Wayne laughs again. “The landscape reminds me of our trip to Alaska. It was colder there though.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” Bella looks around, bends down, and picks up a stone which she throws into the water.”
“Did you make a wish?”
Bella kisses Wayne. “I got my wish.”
“Walk the trails of Nickerson State Park in Brewster and take an early peek at Heaven. Even in peak season, there is always a “private” beach or your secret spot to discover as you explore the shorelines of the park’s best swimming holes.” The Platinum Pebble Boutique Inn
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