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.

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