A few weeks ago, Robert and I headed off on a short trip to Provincetown, in keeping with our yearly tradition. Then things got busy so I haven't stopped to write about it until now.
Quite a few years ago, we were travelling towards the end of the Cape when we stopped for lunch and bumped into a fellow dancer and his partner. I quickly assumed that they wanted a romantic weekend by themselves. They, on the other hand immediately invited us to dine with them that evening. And the tradition was born.
It turns out that they go to Provincetown nearly every Washington's birthday weekend, and we've started doing that too. So now we stay in the same inn -- we've now stayed in three different inns with them, each one several times. Our current inn has a cocktail hour before dinner every evening where the guests get together for wine and cheese. Sometimes we have breakfast with our friends; sometimes we have dinner, but we also have lots of time to ourselves.
This year, we walked for miles, talked to some of our favorite artists, went into a couple of shops, went to the beach, attended a jazz concert, went to part of an art auction, walked some more, bumped into various other friends who were down for the weekend, and ate very very well.
Robert usually orders flowers for the room, which is always a nice touch. And I got him a Valentine's basket full of goodies -- chocolates, ginger biscuits, licorice, caper berries, random stuff. Breakfasts were delicious and great opportunities for fascinating conversations.
So we'll be back, probably not when the crowds are there. But I'm so grateful for our time there.
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