SERENDIPITY PHOTO PROMPT 2015 #13 – ON OLD CAPE COD
Wednesday – July 8, 2015
It’s Frisbee Wednesday again. We’ve passed the big summer holiday weekend. The fireworks have been shot. The band played on. Time to move along and get down to the serious work of summering. In a word, that means vacation.
You have an obligation to have a good time and doing it at home is the coward’s way out. To have a proper good time, you have to go somewhere crowded. Popular. If parking isn’t difficult or impossible, you’ve clearly chosen the wrong place to be.
In this spirit, let me welcome you to Hyannisport. A beautiful harbor. Magnificent yachts. Blue sky, blue water. Happy people.
Yummy fried clams. Acid reflux comes free with each order.
Enjoy the beautiful white sand beaches, the birds gliding over the ocean and the harbor.
Although everything is ridiculously expensive and you’ll have to fight your way through throngs of tourists, it’s part of the experience. Of course, you could go off-season as we have done for many years … September or October, even November … but that might lessen the experience.
A LONG WEEK ON OLD CAPE COD
It was 76 miles as the road goes, but it took us three hours to get to Hyannis from Uxbridge. Not bad, considering it was a snail trail all the way. No matter. We were in a festive mood. No screaming and cursing from us as we crawled to Cape Cod.
We made it. The moment we saw the place, we got a that sinking feeling. You know what I mean. The asphalt in the parking was in shards. You can’t find the office because there’s a backhoe parked out front. Somehow, you know your room is right behind the backhoe.
“The last lady loved it. She had three little kids and said it kept them entertained.”
“We don’t have kids. I prefer not to spend my week on the Cape up close and personal with a back hoe.” Humor was lost on our hostess. I had a headache.
The only other available unit was on the second floor and of course, there was no elevator or assistance to haul our luggage. I had asked for a room with handicapped access. “Well,” she said, “You’d have to talk to your exchange group about that.”
It was late. We were tired. Fighting was futile. We had paid in advance. It’s good to know when you’re beaten.
Garry had that look he gets when he’s mad as hell, but knows there’s no point in fighting. He knows a dump when he sees one. As he pointed out later as we haul our tons of stuff up the steep flight of stairs … “We’ve stayed in worse.”
Sad, but true.
In Montreal, we shared our room with hot and cold running cockroaches. That was worse.
The mattress on the bed was long past its prime. By the time we encountered it, it was a weary, used up, bitter mattress. Lumpy. Unforgiving. Hard as a rock.
The bathroom was so bad it was funny. “It has,” Garry said, “A certain ‘Je ne sais quoi.’ ” I was laughing hysterically as I pulled out a camera and took a few shots. Too awful. A dump. But, for one, joyous vacation week, our dump.
When you can’t fix it, soldier on.
The weather was with us. We had been to beautiful places and spent a whole week watching the rain pour down. This time, it was a crappy hotel, but the weather was perfect.
When you are on vacation, great weather beats luxury accommodations. Especially when you are a photography enthusiast, even more if you are a couple and both of you are enthusiasts. We grabbed our gear. And took hundreds of pictures.