2016 - Winter Solstice - Where Everything Old is New Again

In between catching the first golden leaf in the act of jagged descent and crunching ankle-deep in them beneath looming tree skeletons, Autumn's activities fill up the Cape Cod calendars.  The town of Wellfleet, which is world-famous for their oysters, bravely continued with their annual October Oysterfest despite the mandatory closure of local shellfish beds for 21 days due to the detection of a norovirus.  Shellfish could still be eaten cooked, but the raw bar venders were definitely out of the picture this year.  They good-naturedly came up with nicknames such as, 'NoysterFest", "OysterMess" and "OysterStress", and the festival continued with attendance of around 17,000.  Considering Wellfleet's population of 2700, that's not too shabby.  These two pictures from their website summed it up.

I told you we take our turnips seriously. From their webpage.

Mike O'Connor at the Bird Watcher's General Store in Orleans repeated his annual pre-Thanksgiving 'Hat Full of Potatoes Day'.  Decked out in his funkiest hat in the parking lot, he could be seen generously filling hats with enough potatoes from the bed of his pickup truck to make mashed potatoes for a lot of Thanksgiving tables.  It's no secret that Mike is a vegetarian and his motto this time of year is "Save a turkey, eat potatoes!"
What Wellfleet is to oysters, Eastham is to turnips, but not just your average under-appreciated turnip.  Due to unique soil conditions, the Eastham turnip is bigger and sweeter than average.  So, it wouldn't be November in Eastham without the annual Turnip Festival and the Turnip Cookoff event.  This year's winning recipe, published in the Cape Codder, was for Eastham Turnip Puff Casserole.  I might just have to try this one.  It sounds a lot better than the turnip ice cream recipe that won a few years ago.  That one left me cold... 
That brings us to December, which has ample events all month for the energetic holiday enthusiast.  Between shifting gears to winter chores and making individual holiday plans, one really must just pick a couple of favorites.  One of mine is to visit the Nauset Model Railroad Club open house to see their 6 detailed layouts of 5 different gages.  The new display this year will be the Union Freight layout, which depicts the switching railroad that ran through Boston's busy waterfront streets for more than 100 years.  And, of course, the 'big kids' who set them up are there to talk trains with anyone who shares their passion.  I'm waiting for the grandkids to hit town before I go to this one.  

Christmas Cavalcade at Ocean Edge 2016

Another favorite is our friend Chandler's annual Christmas Cavalcade to raise money for Cape Cod's homeless shelter.  So many of Cape Cod's closely-knit musicians come together to entertain and support this cause, we've yet to make it to the end of the show.  There were some changes to the event on this 13th year, including the location.  The luxurious Ocean Edge Resort on Cape Cod Bay in Brewster agreed to host the venue since the previous space used in Orleans had been converted to a micro-brewery.  This year also offered the first Chanukah song of memory, prompting an audience member to come forward and "dance" with reckless abandon while the rest of us marveled at her lack of inhibition.  Another new act on the bill was a group of belly dancers, giving their veils and finger cymbals a workout to an Indian version of a Christmas carol.  I didn't say they were all great changes, but certainly conversation-provoking.  One of the highlights of the evening is always the musical skit put together by the popular 3-girl band, The Ticks.  This year's effort attempted the story of The Gift of the Magi and was every bit the wonderfully unpolished and enthusiastic gem as years' past.  But, the best, most magical part of the evening, as music filled the room, was the real snow that began falling outside, visible through the giant windows behind the stage.  It was the perfect backdrop and made for a beautiful ride home in the swirling white.  Wow Chandler, I don't know how you did that, but kudos, my friend!      

Fred Boak, of the Chandler Travis 3-O & Jodi Birchall, of the Rip It Ups

Okay, this one is not really one of my favorites, but I can't resist showing off the picture taken of Ron last year when he participated in Wellfleet Harbor Actors Theatre's community event reading of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens.  Anyone can participate to read a few lines and share some holiday spirit.  He agreed to reprise his best-dressed appearance and narration this year and to allow WHAT to use the picture in their promotional ad again.  I must say, the man does dress up nicely.

Ron Daniels participating in a community reading of A Christmas Carol
 at WHAT in Wellfleet, MA

So, how do we celebrate the Winter Solstice here?   Without getting into the history of religion, suffice to say that many of the Christmas traditions have their roots in pre-Christian pagan times, and those are the ones that appeal to us.  Lights go up outside, where they brighten the long, cold winter nights.  We put them on the boat, which has become a town landmark in our yard, serving as a beacon to drivers where there is very little other illumination.  Indeed, if we don't put them up early enough, our friends and neighbors begin to prompt us.  We line fence railings to define walkways.  And yes, even a couple of welcoming trees get the twinkle treatment.  Inside, a fire is laid for soft light and warmth of a different source.   Family visits inspire creating delicious things to warm tummies and hearts.  If it's just the two of us on Christmas Day, we order Chinese.  For the most part, our gifts are not purchased, and Black Friday and Cyber Monday are non-events.  Some gifts are homemade, but the grand treasure hunt for 'optional gifts' begins anew each January at the transfer station swap shops, and there are gift bags for everyone.  The items can be just for a laugh, or something truly perfect for that person, and everything can be kept, traded, or contributed back to the swap shop.  It's mostly about the hunt and the fun.  
Even though January 1 is just another day in a long progression, we tend to take stock of years as a whole, so certain things come to mind as this marker quickly approaches.  It occurred to me the other day that operating a B&B is a bit like travel in reverse.  Instead of meeting people in their native surroundings, they come to us and some share what it's like to be themselves in their world.  That's a pretty easy way to 'travel'.  In the last few off-season months, we've had all kinds of visitors.  There were guests from Scotland who were avid golfers and were delighted with the information we provided about Cape Cod golf courses.  Another couple from just down the road in Sandwich admitted they were playing hookie from their jobs for a day and asked if we would waive the 2-night minimum.  For playing hookie?  Are you kidding?  Come on down!  We were fascinated to find out that one of our guests was a retired Hollywood stuntman, but not surprised that he was married to a very lovely nurse.  Another couple told us they were coming because they just needed a break from their kids.  We've hosted guests here for everything from birthdays and anniversaries to funerals.  We have a couple who live near Boston who are avid birders who know when a rare bird is spotted on Cape Cod before we hear about it, and are quickly on the phone to make their reservations. 

Crosswinds B&B 2016 "Bird Visitor of the Year"

And, speaking of bird sitings, so far we've been treated to a new species at our feeders every year.  We were beginning to think that this year might be different until I spotted something that seemed odd to me.  I was used to seeing nuthatches, but this one seemed to have an orangish belly.  With a little research, I found that we were being visited by a fairly rare, red breasted nuthatch.  When I reported that to our avid birder couple, they very matter of factly confirmed, "Oh yes, they're making a comeback."       

Crosswinds, the ketch

 And, as long as we're covering critter news, this year's red and gray squirrel relocation count came in at 55, with 38 additional trips for chipmunks.  They're like Doritos, they just keep making more.

New England Patriots and snowflakes - one of my favorite combinations!

However you celebrate your holidays, I wish you peace of mind, warmth of heart, good health and a steaming cup of gratefulness.       

2016 Post-Labor Day - Where Everything Old is New Again

Hermine's footprint

As Hurricane Hermine lumbered up the East coast in slow motion, wreaking havoc in the Southeastern States and threatening a repeat of Hurricane Sandy in the Northeast, storm warnings were posted on Cape Cod to prepare for the last gasp of this monster.  With threats of rain [which we desperately needed after a very dry summer] and wind gusts of up to 50 mph [we call that winter], life went on as usual.  The Christmas Tree shop had their $10 off coupons out, there was one more free concert scheduled at Herring Cove Beach, and there were some very determined vacationers who weren't going to let Hermine boss them around.  As the cry went up, "what's the latest on the storm?", it soon became apparent that Hermine's heart just wasn't in it for Cape Cod. The following posting on Facebook's Provincetown Community Space by Sean D'Aversa told the story perfectly.

Oh, the humanity!

And now, A Lesson From a Peach Tree:

The Lone Peach

When we moved to Eastham in December of 2009, we arrived just days before a big snowstorm.  After it passed and we ventured out to explore our new yard, we encountered a large branch on the ground which reduced the size of its tree by roughly a third.  Later when Spring arrived, we were surprised to find out it was a peach tree, which not fazed by the loss of the large limb proceeded to bear a pretty decent crop of fruit.  As the years have passed, the crop has varied depending on how much water and attention we remembered to give it.  The last couple of summers have taken a toll on its production, as we've had to focus more attention on the care and feeding of ourselves and guests than on the tree.  But, as I passed by this summer on the way to preparing the Cottage for guests, I spotted a big, beautiful peach hanging from a low limb.  I scanned the higher branches for more, but finally realized that all of the tree's energy had gone into making this one perfect peach.  For some reason, that peach stayed in my thoughts all summer and I realized that I was feeling a kinship to the tree.  We're both showing signs of aging, our limbs not what they used to be, but we know what our jobs are and do them as well as we can.  Some days aren't as productive as they used to be, and some years you can only produce one peach, but we try to keep a peachy attitude.  I included the lone peach in a salad I made for a friend whose husband is fighting cancer.  It seemed like a worthy thing to do with a peach whose tree worked so hard to make it. 

Herring Cove Sunset

Usually, we end the summer season sitting in beach chairs on our town green, surrounded by friends and neighbors, listening to our favorite musicians, Chandler Travis and whomever is joining him that night, as they play the summer out.  We did huddle together on that suddenly chilly evening when my sisters visited in August and enjoyed the usual trimmed down "Philharmonette" collection of musicians.  But, Labor Day weekend was late this year, so the season gifted us an extra free concert at Herring Cove Beach in Provincetown with the entire Chandler Travis Philharmonic.  I hadn't been to that venue before, and the thought of welcoming Labor Day, the true end of the busy season, sitting on the northern tip of our tiny island where whales can sometimes be seen breaching, and the next stop is Europe, grooving to all our now-old favorites, played by musicians, some of whom teach other musicians at notable music schools in Boston, well...count us in!  

Ladies and gentlemen, 

tonight's version of The Chandler Travis Philharmonic!

Fred Boak, 'Valet', the inimitable Chandler Travis, and 'Slammy' Woods

Horn Section Extraordinaire du jour, Kami Lyle, Bob Pilkington and Burke McKelvey,

affectionately referred to by Chandler as 'The June Trailer Dancers'

And, the exquisitely fashionable, John Clark

Without a doubt, it was one of the best sets of feel-good music we've heard in a long time, made all the better as we all shared a beautiful Provincetown sunset and a much clamored for encore that was a wicked set of its own.  As we shared farewell hugs and got thanked for coming, my reply as always was, "thanks for spoiling us rotten".  Staying to chat for awhile, we realized on the way back to the car that, except for an inky display of stars in an incredibly big sky, there were no lights to guide us to our car in the large parking lot.  Thus, began an interesting finish to the evening as we wandered cluelessly in the velvety darkness looking for anything that resembled an object with which we were familiar.  I imagined the story that would appear in the Cape Codder about a couple found sleeping in a salt marsh at low tide, but we eventually bumped into a car, which turned out to be ours, and the evening ended happily in our own bed in Eastham.   

Our town of Eastham picks September to hold its annual 3-day Windmill Weekend Festival to celebrate the oldest windmill on the Cape right here on our town green.  It's not a fundraiser for any cause other than to make enough for the town folks to have fun again next year.  My favorite activities on the 3-day schedule are the Saturday sand castle competition on First Encounter Beach, the Sunday parade, and this year's new lobster races were tempting.  Ron and I have enjoyed volunteering at the raffle ticket booth for the last several years, but we seem to always be expecting new B&B guests on this day, too, so one of us usually has to come late while the other waits on their arrival. The festival was just not in the cards for me this year.  The sand castle competition was so well attended, I couldn't find a place to park.  And the guests, who were to come between 2-3 p.m. came at 6 p.m. so I was a little disappointed when Windmill Weekend 2016 came and went without me.  But, things have a way of working out.  After a long hiatus from the gym to heal injuries, September has been my triumphant return - can you hear the Rocky theme playing in the background?  And, First Encounter Beach is on the way home, and makes a dandy apres-gym treat in September, while the sun still warms the shoulders and the northwest breeze cools the sand off. 

What if you could magically snap your fingers and make all the traffic disappear?  No, that doesn't really happen after Labor Day.  September is one of the most beautiful months on Cape Cod, and the folks without kids in school know it.  And, with the town of Wellfleet's Oysterfest on the calender, it's not likely to happen in October, either.  But, it's coming...          

2016 SUMMER ON CAPE COD PART II - Where everything old is new again

A little shade goes a long way in August

August seems to bring a lot of finger pointing about almost everything.  Which soil you should have used on your garden.  Whether Route 6 or 6A is faster.  Which beach is best, or who has the best lobster roll.  Which state has the worst drivers and whether rotaries are better than stoplights.  The heat and traffic gridlock start to take its toll on patience, but a quick look at the calendar reminds locals what a brief interlude this summer season really is in comparison to the quiet months to come. 

It's a WOOWOOPALOOZA!

Before that happens, Cape Cod is awash with activity as flashy as Hillary Clinton's Provincetown fundraiser with Cher, to the Pan-Mass Challenge bike-a-thon, where 5000 cyclists ride from one end of the Cape to the other raising funds for cancer research.  Hillary's $500-$10,000 ticket range was a bit out of our league, but we jumped at the chance to purchase tickets to the WooWooPalooza benefit for local musician and friend, Steve [WooWoo] Wood, who is fighting cancer.  Because that is one thing the Cape excels at, helping friends in need.

At least six local bands donated their time to play at the Beachcomer Club, an old 1897 Lifesaving Station in Wellfleet, to raise funds for Steve's cancer treatment.  Locals call it "the Coma".  There are a few old wood booths in the corner, but the tables and chairs are always cleared away after dinner so the area in front of the stage becomes a big, sandy dance floor.  The event was planned by our friend Chandler Travis, whose band The Incredible Casuals played the Coma every Sunday for 30 years.  Especially poignant about this evening was that two generations were represented in a couple of the bands, including Steve's son Sammy [Slammy] Wood on drums.  Ron, who played keyboard in Steve's band, The Greenheads, back in the 80's, loves to tell how Sammy bounced in time to the music of their rehearsals in diapers and little cowboy boots.  It was just inevitable that he would take up drums.  The Casuals' rendition of "I Wanna Play Loud", summed up the three hours of bouncing to the old favorites, pausing to pass the hat and reminisce about old 'Coma days while friends generously filled and refilled it up.

"Slammy" Wood carrying on the Coma tradition

August is also sometimes family visit time for many Codders, including us, this year.  The house was packed with sisters reminiscing, sons reuniting, moms playing pass the baby and the spare friend, or two, who dropped in to share the fun.  We even had an impromptu fake wedding with a fancy cake and a lace tablecloth doubling as a wedding dress to make up for the quiet town hall ceremony that took place this summer when buying a house out of town became more pressing than a big wedding.  Not to worry, everyone got a plastic lei and a hat to wear and a delicious hunk of Stop & Shop bakery 's best, and a few pictures to commemorate the event.      Wedding Daniels-style Sisters do Provincetown I learned a new Cape Cod historical tidbit this summer.  The date of the start of the American Revolution is an easy one for me to remember because it's also my birthday.  And the words that became the rallying cry of the revolution, "taxation without representation" are still seen on bumper stickers in the District of Columbia.  [The exact quote was, "Taxation without representation is tyranny."]    But, I didn't know until now that the man who coined that phrase was none other than James Otis, Jr. of the town of Barnstable, and his statue is in front of the Barnstable County Courthouse on Cape Cod where I signed the papers seven years ago to become a Cape Cod homeowner.   The late-bloomers and feathered friends in our gardens continue to turn heads.  As the traffic starts to thin out on the main highways, my thoughts are turning to my winter list.  These are all the things I put off until low-season allows me the luxury of time to indulge in them.  But, there's still a busy Shoulder Fall Season to attend to, so at this point I'm just watching the list grow and looking forward to choosing the first thing.  Meanwhile, we say Cheers to our 6th summer season on Cape Cod, hosting visitors from all corners of the world.       "Happy as clams [...at high tide.]"

2016 - SUMMER ON CAPE COD PART I -Where everything old is new again.

 The Summer Buzz on Cape Cod

Memorial Day Weekend brings changes you can always count on.  Cars and porches will be under a heavy coat of yellow pollen.  The faint roar of the ocean is replaced by the whoosh of cars on the highway.  There's a run on the grape jelly aisle as bird lovers vie to attract orioles at their feeders, and...    


The 8th Annual Quahog Day was held on June 20th this year at Mattakeese Wharf overlooking Barnstable Harbor.  This is when Doug-the-Quahog is escorted to the beach by his faithful security detail, a team of black-suited men and women armed with clamming rakes.  During his "Prognostication Ceremony" he whispers into the ear of his human sidekick, Captain Johnny Quahog, how many days of beach weather we have to look forward to during the season.  Doug even has his own song:

Doug the Quahog's Theme Song 

That's Doug The Quahog, on the right

Even a place steeped in traditions sometimes has change forced upon it.  No matter how mankind tries to intervene, nature has a way of having the final word:  
Eastham's Nauset Light Beach has been declared a "hot spot" by the Cape Cod National Seashore Superintendent.  The results of another stormy winter has taken its toll with more beach erosion and the annual loss of the wooden steps.  This summer, the beach was closed until July 4th while the new replacement steps to get down the 60' drop to the beach were completed. 

But, in spite of that, Eastham hit the jackpot this summer with major kudos from these different sources: 

Eastham's Coast Guard Beach was rated #5 in the USA
 by "Dr. Beach" (www.DrBeach.org), who has selected the annual Top 10 Beaches since 1991. Fifty criteria are used to evaluate beaches, which include water and sand quality as well as safety and management. Dr. Leatherman is an internationally known coastal scientist who has published 20 books and hundreds of scientific articles and reports about storm impacts, coastal erosion and ways to improve beach health and safety.  This is how he sums it up:  Coast Guard Beach, accessible by bicycle or shuttle bus from the Salt Pond Visitor’s Center, was formed where a sand spit attached to the glacial cliffs. The sand is fairly coarse so the beach slopes steeply into the water. The picturesque old Coast Guard station still sits atop the glacial bluffs, allowing for a spectacular view down upon the Nauset Spit barrier system and bay. During the summer, beach-goers take quick, refreshing dips in the ocean as water temperatures only reach 60-70 degrees.

And, National Geographic rated Coast Guard Beach
the #1 Family Beach in the U.S. 

Coast Guard Beach - Eastham, Massachusetts

For the classic Cape Cod vacation, head to Coast Guard Beach, boundless miles of sand and surf on the Cape Cod National Seashore. Stop at the Salt Pond Visitor Center to learn about free programs, such as family campfire nights, ranger-guided nature walks, beach yoga, and surf casting lessons. Rent kayaks, surfboards, and bikes from Castaways Marine. Take a ride along the 24-mile (39-kilometer) bike path or paddle through unspoiled marsh. The beach itself, reached by a quick shuttle ride from a main lot, has lifeguards, showers, and changing rooms. In town, Arnold’s Lobster and Clam Bar serves kids’ meals on Frisbees and has an 18-hole miniature golf course.

And, as long as we're gloating, here's what Thrillist says about our wonderful, little town:

Eastham:  Why it’s so great: We know what you do: you zip down the 6, right through Eastham on the way to Wellfleet and P-town. Fool: you’re skipping out on some epic and epically beautiful nature time. The Cape Cod National Seashore is dog-friendly and open year-round (hiking, cross-country skiing, and snowshoeing are more than encouraged in the winter). The bayside beaches, meantime, offer under-sung sunset views. The Nauset Bike Trail starts in Eastham, granting you another view of the National Seashore, and then of course, the town is awash in mini-golf courses (don’t judge).  Must-eat foods: Karoo for authentic South African cuisine (yes, really), Arnold’s for Food & Wine-approved fried clams in the warmer months, and Hole in One Donut Shop for, well, you know.

Don't feel bad, I had to look it up, too:  Thrillist is a leading men's digital lifestyle brand, providing all that's new, unknown or under-appreciated in food, drink, entertainment, nightlife, gadgets, and gear ...

Need more convincing?

Coast Guard Beach, Massachusetts

The Cape Cod National Seashore is truly a national treasure, and Coast Guard Beach, which lies in the midst of this pristinely protected swath in Eastham, Massachusetts, is the golden-sand diamond amidst jewels. Backed by dunes and open to the Atlantic Ocean (but with generally gentle waves), Coast Guard Beach is also great for swimming and boogie boarding. 

Thank you!

Always a lovely view from Fort Hill in Eastham, where the National Seashore begins

Shellfishers tend to be the sort who enjoy working the quiet flats by themselves, so when a Chatham filmmaker's drone invaded a local clammer's solitary afternoon, it came under attack with a clam rake and the video went viral:  

Click on:  Clammer attacks drone in Chatham

Just another summer day in Provincetown

Tesla comes to Mashpee Commons.  There's a Tesla gallery coming to the town of Mashpee, the first Southern Massachusetts location for the company, and the fifth location in the state.  Customers will not be able to purchase a vehicle yet, because the town hasn't yet issued the auto dealership permit.   But, there will be a Model S on display, and a computer design studio where customers can create their own vehicles from a selection of models and options.  And yes, there are six charging stations already on Cape Cod, plus a supercharger station near the Sagamore bridge, plus two on Martha's Vineyard, and two on Nantucket.  

Summer Solstice Sunset at First Encounter Beach in Eastham

'Scratchy', a 13 foot shark, was the first of our tracked great whites to return for the summer off of Chatham waters.  He was filmed having his favorite meal of seals, which begs the reminder that if you find yourself sharing the water with seals, it's best to remove yourself quickly.   

Tommy doing his Great White shark imitation

Although Ron's car is no longer a convertible, we were invited back by our friends in the Chandler Travis Philharmonic to be the "just in case" driver in the 4th of July parade in Chatham, in case any of the marchers needed a quick rest from the heat.  He did one better than that, and borrowed a landscaper's open trailer and decorated it to the max.  It made a perfect place to video a couple of the numbers, but mostly I had a great time watching the people watching the parade.  I've never seen a bigger or better assortment of patriotic clothing and enthusiastic people.  Small town parades rock!  Click the link for a short instructional video on:  How to Make a Parade

Look out Chatham, here we come!

Since moving here in the winter of 2009, I've driven by the French Cable Station Museum almost daily and wondered what it was doing in the town of Orleans, and what exactly was in it.  This summer, I noticed that they were going to have a day-long celebration of Bastille Day and our friends in the Chandler Travis Three-O band were going to play on the front lawn, so I knew this was the perfect opportunity to find out.  Little did I know what an important part of history was played out right here on Cape Cod.  Built in 1891 by the French Cable Company, it became the ending point of a 3,200-mile trans-Atlantic telegraph cable called "Le Direct".  When France surrendered to Nazi Germany in 1940, it was taken over by the federal government for security reasons, but returned to the company in 1951.  It was purchased by 10 Orleans citizens in 1972 and added to the National Register of Historic Places, displaying Atlantic undersea telegraphic cables, instruments, maps and memorabilia.  Their docents are always willing to tell stories about "the old war days" and I recognized some of the equipment from my dad's amateur ham radio days.  Ron says he was "just glad to see things older than him."  So, now we know, and there are so many more little historic gems on the Cape waiting for us to take the time to discover them. 

For the last two summers, we've noticed the direct correlation of the strength of the U.S. dollar to the number of overseas guests we host.  When the dollar is strong, we see mostly U.S. tourists.  Visitors this summer came mostly from California, Connecticut, Delaware, D.C., Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, Vermont, Virginia, but a few from Canada, France, Japan and Russia.

2016 SPRING ON CAPE COD -Where everything old is new again.

Taken this April 3rd.  We had flowers blooming, too,
but it wouldn't be a real New England Spring without an April flurry.

State Route 6, the main corridor through Cape Cod, has again been a sea of orange and white striped barrels, shrinking traffic to three lanes.  We anticipated some repaving before Memorial Day to smooth out where the new water pipes were installed last Fall, but the digging continues and the race is on to finish before Memorial Day.  

Of course, it's the new Red Sox season and we've got a hot new pitcher!  
It's still cool enough for a cozy evening fire, and the Red Sox blanket is Bob's favorite.

In the past, I've mentioned the town meetings that make our local government unique.  They are frequently tedious affairs of one committee or another, but occasionally spark some ire when least expected. Such was the case at a recent meeting in the quaint, fishing town of Chatham, located at the "elbow" of Cape Cod.  The kerfuffle arose during a meeting of the Aunt Lydia's Cove Committee and the Waterways Committee as a result of the issue of whether non-residents should be heard from before increasing fees at the fish pier.  A disagreement escalated when one of the members called the chairman "a term similar to being a chicken, but far stronger".  The chairman responded in kind, prompting an overturned chair and a fist fight.  As all town sessions are video recorded and televised on local t.v., there was no need for embellishment and it quickly became of much more public interest than the issue before the Committee.  Whatever would Aunt Lydia have thought?  

The first hummingbird showed up the first week of May, and we were ready.

Right whales are back for their annual pilgrimage to Cape Cod Bay.  Of about 500 known right whales in the world, about 100 have been spotted here so far this Spring, with more expected to arrive.  They come for the tiny crustaceans called copepods which feed on the plankton in the bay.  Right whales are a species of baleen whales, but got their name from whalers who called them the "right" whale to kill on a hunt for their plentiful oil.  In addition, the Center for Coastal Studies in Provincetown reported they've also sighted 20+ humpback whales and 11 fin whales.  It should be another good year for the whale watching cruises.  In fact, we've been sending B&B guests to the Race Point and Herring Cove beaches in Provincetown, where the whales can be seen breaching from shore.  

Coast Guard Beach in Eastham is busy all winter.

When our guests are welcomed into their B&B Suites for the first time, we always hope for a great first impression.  As practiced as we should feel by now about creating it, the process getting there isn't always the same.  It's a real team effort, and when one of Team Daniels goes on the injury list, the other steps in to wing it and hope for the best.  Last summer was my turn to pull some double-duty, and this Spring has turned out to be Ron's when my knee stubbornly refused to cooperate.  As I've coped for the last three months, using crutches and braces, while waiting for diagnosis and treatment, I'm frequently asked by friends and total strangers, "what happened to you?"  In an effort to keep it light, I usually say something absurd like, "sky-diving", or "bungee jumping", that sounds funnier than "my knee's deteriorating from old age".  It finally dawned on me this week, as I've been waiting for the arthroscopy that will get me back into the game, that I've had the perfect responses all this time, but didn't think to use them.  So, take your choice:  

A.  Hiking to the geysers in Iceland

B.  Climbing the steps to the London Tower

C.  Walking the Red Light District in Amsterdam, or

D.  Ascending to the top of the Montmartre neighborhood, overlooking Paris 

They're all valid and I think I left a piece of my knee at every one of them.  The rest of May will be a whirlwind of day surgery, physical therapy and a lot of extra chores for Ron. I can't vouch for the highway work, but I know I'll be ready for Memorial Day Weekend!

2016 CARPE DIEM TRIP - PART VI CONCLUSION

Paris' subway system

TUESDAY, DAY 20 – THE LONG TRIP HOME

By the time we turned in the night before, everything but the bare minimum had been stowed in suitcases.  As we searched the room for any forgotten item, I had my third brilliant idea of the trip.  There was an extra single bed against the far wall that we had used to set our suitcases.  On a hunch, I pulled it away from the wall to see if anything might have slipped behind it and found the bag of socks Ron thought he’d left in Amsterdam.  Also, the thin, nylon bag I’d packed, just in case we couldn’t fit everything in on the way back came in very handy, holding my new coat, Ron’s new red shoes and his Harrod’s toy.  We could do this. 

Making our way to the Metro, rolling suitcases behind us, Doug’s strong, young back came to the rescue, helping to get everything quickly down the steep stairs to the train and out of the way of the people behind us.  As we rolled past Paris suburbs on the way to the airport, a weak winter sun favored us on our last view of this feisty little country.  As if on cue, the doors of our car opened, and two young men entered, enthusiastically wishing everyone “bonjour” as they set up a boom box and proceeded to launch into a loud French rap performance.  Had they made eye contact, they would have noticed that they were being unanimously and studiously ignored.  I covered my ears, but they didn’t seem to get the hint.  When their song was done, they nervously passed a plastic cup around for money with no success, so they quickly moved to the next car and we enjoyed the last bit of France passing by with just the rhythmic sound of the train.

Au revoir!

Since we had come through Iceland, our first class tickets required us to return through Iceland.  It was a bit longer that way, but worth it.  It was lovely to be able to wait in the first class lounge again, snacking on the buffet and catching up on emails and news from home.  I remembered to take my Nausi-calm and we settled into our seats for the next delicious airplane meal and the first uneventful leg of our trip home.   As we approached Iceland, the bright sunny skies turned gray and we descended in a big snow cloud, gently sprinkling the runway with delicate flakes that scattered as we landed. Switching flights, Doug received bear hugs and boarded a plane to take him back home to D.C. for his first time in five weeks.  And our flight, conveniently at the next gate, would return us to Boston.   As I’d hoped the medicine not only kept my stomach comfortable, but made it easy to drowse the flight away until I felt the jolt of tires on the runway in Boston.  We're almost HOME!  

But, there was still the matter of being admitted back into the country, and then getting back to Cape Cod.  One thing at a time.  Three weeks of constant walking and climbing had taken a toll on what I refer to as my “geezer knee”, and it took this moment deplaning to tell me it had had enough, causing me to limp, which put an added burden on my “geezer hip”.  Holding on to Ron’s arm, we made it down the covered tunnel that connected the plane to the terminal, and then moved out of everyone’s way.  I noticed several wheelchairs parked against the wall, and thinking they were there for people like me, we grabbed one and rolled to the luggage pickup.  It got really tricky as Ron pushed the wheelchair with one hand while pulling his suitcase behind him with the other.  I rolled my suitcase out to the side.  We were an exhausted rolling sideshow and thrilled that we could skip the big line and go straight to the first class check-in, which only had a couple people ahead of us.  But, it got trickier still when we were asked what we were doing with a wheelchair when Ron clearly wasn’t a wheelchair aide with a neon orange vest.  We were also asked to provide a declaration form that we would have been given on the plane if we'd called ahead for a wheelchair to meet us.  I explained that I wasn’t expecting to have to enter Logan Airport on wheels. [If you’re not in a wheelchair, the form isn’t required at all, but that logic still escapes me.]  It also didn’t help that the picture on Ron’s passport was taken before he had chemo, so instead of straight blonde hair, he now has curly gray hair, which according to this hulk of a security guard, now made him look like the dad on the Brady Bunch instead of Rod Stewart.   We didn’t feel like arguing with him, we just wanted to catch our bus to Barnstable and GO HOME!  Twenty minutes later, after finally finding someone to come up with one of the forms and returning through the line, we were allowed to pass.  Looking for an elevator to wheel into, a woman in uniform approached and asked us suspiciously where we’d gotten the wheelchair.  My exhaustion made me bold.  I said, Look, we’ve already been chastised about using it without calling ahead first, but right now, my hip won’t support me, so if you really want it back, I’ll get up and hop to the bus until my other hip gives out.”   Obviously a woman who knows how to pick her battles, she motioned to us to go ahead with the chair. 
  

We caught a bit of luck when the Plymouth & Brockton bus to Barnstable was running late.  It would have been another hour’s wait otherwise.  Leaving the wheelchair on the sidewalk, I hobbled up into a seat and dozed right across the Cape Cod Canal.  At Ginny’s suggestion, we'd put a shovel in our car, just in case there was snow while we were gone and we needed to dig out.  Ginny's has a lot of brilliant ideas, too.  Ironically, after the two blizzards we missed, there had been a big rainstorm that day on the Cape, and there wasn’t a bit of snow left.   We arrived home about 9:30 p.m. after waking up in France and briefly setting foot in Iceland.  Home never looked so good, and our cats remarkably welcomed us home despite our rude abandonment of them.

Patrolling the Eiffel Tower

The French Consulate in London under guard

Patrolling the streets of Montmartre

This is the part where after summarizing our travelogue and editing thousands of pictures, the more subtle memories and impressions begin to filter through.  I’ve already sufficiently patted myself on the back for reluctantly facing six consecutive flights.  But, terrorism has now become a common component of the fear of travel.  It’s one thing to ideally want to “show no fear” to the attackers [like my feisty husband], and another to actually do it when you don’t have to.  He’s often said, and I do find it to be true, that when one has traveled in another country and befriended its citizens, even on a short trip, one takes an attack more personally.  This was not the same Europe we visited in 2012.  Everywhere we looked, there were very no-nonsense groups of armed soldiers scanning the crowd and patrolling their sectors.   Opening one’s jacket and having bags searched is now commonplace.  And yet, life did go on, as it must, and should, and it felt the way any visit to a large city feels – busy and full of that life.  I can’t tell you not to be afraid.  I will probably be afraid again.   There will probably even be countries I avoid.   But, it probably won’t stop me from going again.  

Friends always ask, which country did you like the best?  It’s an impossible question, as each one has a personality all its own.  I might give Iceland a little edge this time, simply because it was a first-time experience and this was a second trip for the other countries, but each country provides specific reasons to be chosen.  Iceland’s culture is welcoming and their people have a certain open sweetness about them.  Their “big city”, Reykjavik is like a small, but cosmopolitan town.  The “suburbs” are horse and sheep-filled fields full of natural wonders like geysers, and waterfalls, and geothermal lagoons.  I know there’s much more to see in Great Britain than London, but their theatre district is what drew us back this time.  Because art is still government-supported, their stage productions are top-notch and affordable.  And, there were still plenty if other attractions we hadn’t seen.

Reykjavik

Amsterdam is steeped in tradition, but very laid back at the same time.  Live and let live; whatever floats your houseboat.  It’s easy to imagine what it was like centuries ago, walking past the old–world architecture along the canals, but watch your step because the modern trams and bicycle lanes will bring you conveniently back to the present.   Great museums, the flower market, the red light district nightlife, all make it distinctive in its own right.

Meow"-na Lisa at de Poezenboot in Amsterdam

Once again, I know there’s much more to France than Paris, but there is oh, so much to see in this city.  Besides the many museums, every utilitarian thing is an excuse for art.  Be it lampposts, bridge rails, even lowly trash cans, everything displays pride in its creation and great care is taken to keep it spotless and in good condition.  They are proud of their culture and even adapted a Starbucks coffee shop to a Starbucks “Reserve”, adding wine to their menu.  Even the Seine is not content to flow lazily along its banks. It roils under each elegantly sculpted and gilded bridge with an energy that mirrors the creative forces of this lively city. 

It’s like asking me “which flower do you like best”.

Being a traveler makes one a better host.  In our eighth year as innkeepers, we were due for a refresher course on what it’s like traveling in a foreign country.  First, there’s the language.  Even in London, many colloquial things require a bit of explanation for the first-timer.  Icelanders are taught English at an early age, but some still struggle with it as a second language.  The same holds true in Amsterdam and Paris, although fewer are as willing and able to speak English in Paris.  The best-formed and pronounced high school French question usually results in a rush of French, for which this tourist is not prepared.   And, you will find in all of these countries that some of those who struggle with English are really immigrants who are learning English, French, Dutch and Icelandic as additional ones to their native languages. 

I just want some money.

Then, there’s the money.  Whether it’s Kronas, Pounds or Euros, it’s all confusing and you’ll find more than once that, throwing caution to the wind, you’ll resort to holding out a fist full of bills and coins to let a clerk pick the right amount.  We’re not proud of that, but let’s be honest.  The Iceland Kronas are, by far, the prettiest coins, each sporting different kinds of fish.  Furthermore, when it comes to money, if you don’t tell your credit card company that you’re going on a trip, you’re likely to find that your cards suddenly don’t work anymore as they “protect you from the unusual activity”, and you’ll have to figure out how to contact them from a different country to fix it.

Another car alternative-pedal power

London is not the only city in Europe which makes being a pedestrian an extra challenge, although the fact that they drive on the left side of the road does ramp it up a bit.   Europeans are big public transportation and bike riders.  Gasoline has always been more expensive there, and many of the roads are too small to accommodate all the traffic.  The governments do an admirable job providing alternatives to cars.  In Amsterdam, bicycle riders have their own lanes next to the sidewalks, so it’s easy to forget when crossing the street that you’re probably about to cause havoc standing in front of an oncoming herd of honking bicycles.  But, pay attention because in the middle, past the bike and car lanes, is the track for the trams.  Paris is just a free-for-all with cars, bikes, buses and motorcycles all vying for passage, and walkers will be noisily reminded that they need to move.  Now!  At least their trains are underground like London's.  If I could put just one thing on an improbable wish list, it would be great if the long stairs going down to the trains had a ramp on the side for suitcases to be rolled as one descended the stairs.  I’m not holding my breath, but think about it, Europe.

Surprise!

Many of these cities have passes one can buy in advance for discounts on museums and popular attractions.  They also keep you from waiting in the long lines.  That was tempting, but for our style of travel, not as practical as it seems.  It’s a little akin to buying the cable movie packages. Maybe all you want is HBO, but you’re forced to buy a big package of channels you probably will never watch.  We decided that for us, we’d pay the extra and take our chances on lines, rather than feel pressured to get our money’s worth out of a big, packaged deal.  The surprises we always find leisurely strolling far outweigh the big museum we missed, and with the lines comes the freedom of choice to move on to another adventure.

"Life without art is stupid." - outside the Centre Pompidou in Paris

It’s difficult to espouse socialism in the U.S. without inviting disbelief and criticism from people who don’t understand what it is.  I first embraced it when I co-owned a home healthcare franchise in the ’90’s and found firsthand that business and medical care was a terrible combination.  It becomes evident when traveling in Europe that the care of their people and their country comes first.  Socialized medicine rewards doctors for promoting the things that keep their patients healthy, instead of the bottom-line medicine practiced by U.S. insurance companies.  [We actually heard this from a retired British doctor, who stayed at our B&B.]  Food is healthier.  Infrastructure is in a constant state of maintenance, providing many jobs, and the work is made as attractive as possible while it’s being completed.  The arts are supported and language proficiency is valued.  When we heard that Bernie Sanders had won some primaries while we were in Paris, we had a brief moment of hope that, even if he doesn’t win the presidency this year, we are all the better off that he’s made his best attempt to explain why socialism is not a dirty word.  If you still think it is, it’s time to take a trip or two to see where and how it works.  And that’s as political as I get.

Some of the nicest moments come from helping a total stranger.

And, the jet lag?  Totally real, but totally worth it.  By far, the best takeaway from this trip has been to walk in the same shoes as the visitors who come to our B&B from far away places.  It’s to gain a healthy dose of tolerance for the people who didn’t follow the driving instructions I provided for them, or who are confused by our rotaries and road signs, and clog up the grocery aisles trying to find food labeled in a foreign language to them.  I had detailed instructions about how to find our host in Iceland that I Ieft at home in the confusion of packing.  And, forget about those Icelandic parking signs… When Doug was coming down with his chest cold, I had to ask a stranger for help in an Amsterdam market to pick out which can was chicken soup. I found out that sometimes, the reason tourists stay in their rooms instead of going out to see all the sights in the brochures I provided is because they’re enjoying just taking a break and relaxing in a different, pleasant place with different decorating and views out of the windows.  I learned that traveling with our son provides an opportunity to try things I might not have otherwise.  I enjoyed comparing the places we stayed with the places we offer our B&B guests, looking for inspiration, and getting reassurance that our accommodations stack up to the ones we liked.  Finally, tourists are willing to be totally out of their comfort zone and rely on the kindness of strangers.  We want to be those kind strangers, who are strangers no more, and to feel great about the experience when they leave us.

   

There's no place like home!