This was the summer of reliving past summers. First, we spent time in the U.P., replaying Ben’s childhood summers. Last week was my turn to return to my youth. And after a grand total of 21 hours in the car we arrived on Cape Cod.
Now, for those of you who actually read what I write about our travels, you might recall that the kids and I visited the Cape this past spring. You are remembering correctly. Good on you. But Cape Cod in the spring and Cape Cod in the summer are two very different animals.
Cape Cod summer means warmth, swimming, beaches, mini-golf, and lobster. The summer means everything is open, from my grandmother’s beach club to our most favorite ice cream place of all, the Four Seas. It also means so many people.
This summer for us meant a quick family reunion with relatives who I hadn’t seen since before leaving for Belgium and younger family members who I had never actually met.
This summer also meant we had to make time for more swimming in Crystal Lake than I have done since I was twelve. Now I know how my grandmother felt when we begged to go to the lake rather than sit on the real beach where there was gross seaweed and no raft.
We also managed to squeeze in a visit to the new pirate museum (Have you ever touched real pirate treasure? Because I have.), a bit of “real beach” time, s’mores by the bonfire, biking, rope bracelets, fried clams, visits to the Country Store (home of penny candy brought home in a tiny brown paper bag) and a quick trip to a flea market. That last one was just me. And whale watching for most of us. I wasn’t there so no one took any pictures. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
Thank you, summertime Cape Cod. For never changing.