Postcards From The Cape
The plan: depart Boston at eleven thirty pm, pick up Jesse from bus terminal — squeezing five (tall) people into a two-door car. Drive to the cabin in the Cape (technically owned by confused schizophrenic, absent), brunch (french toast), walk (some jetty), Provincetoooooooown (fake mustaches, pornography).
Four o’clock: board fast ferry back to Boston.
Old friends, jetty.
Cookbook in the cabin. Full of good ideas.
See more of our fourteen-hour adventure here.