BUT...it looks like fun....
Can't share the video, but can share another link HERE
Nevertheless, my new book takes place in Provincetown during Carnival week 2006. If only I could sit down and finish the thing....
Traffic wasn’t too heavy on Saturday morning until they hit the Mass Pike, but even then it was moving steadily to Buzzard’s Bay. Once on Route 6 on the Cape it was practically bumper to bumper. Jack was driving because he was much calmer in traffic.
“It looks like all of New England is being funneled onto Cape Cod this weekend,” Andrew said. “Where on earth are all these people going and where will they park when they get there?”
“That is just a little a bit of hyperbole, don’t you think?” Jack observed. “Unless they’re all going to Provincetown. Then there definitely will be a problem with parking.”
Andrew continued, “I expected a four hour drive or so from Hartford, but we’ll be lucky to make it in six at this rate.”
“It’s ten-thirty. Barely four hours since we left Terri’s house and we’re already ten miles out of Orleans. We should be in P-town in half an hour provided we keep moving.”
It was close to thirty-five minutes later after driving through the pine tree-lined road that they came to North Truro. Andrew pointed out the rows of quintessential one-room cottages on their left and Pilgrim Lake on the right.
“Oh, my. Those quaint little cottages are still there. They are like a harbinger of the land of OZ. When Jack saw the sand dunes rising up from the great pond on the right he glanced over to Andrew. He was about to point out the dunes as if Andrew hadn’t already noticed them. He could see that Andrew had a tear running down his cheek.
“Drew, are you crying?” he asked.
“Oh my god, Jackie, we’re back. I can’t believe it. We’re here,” Andrew was trying desperately to hold back tears. “Our first summer together. Kind of where it began. I mean, you know, all in love and horny as hell.” Andrew giggled at what he’d just said, mixing sentimentality and horniness in the same sentence. Then he burst into laughter, the tears streaming down his cheeks like a waterfall.
His emotions were contagious and Jack got teary-eyed as well while laughing uncontrollably. “You are still a horny little devil, that hasn’t changed.” And they both laughed some more. Jack said, “After all these years. I think there’s still a magic here, like there was back in ’72.”
“Let’s hope so,” Andrew said. Then, after a short pause, he added, “I’m sure I’m feeling it already.”
Jack signaled and then pulled over onto the sandy shoulder. He turned to Andrew and gave him a kiss, a good, long, smack-on-the-lips kiss. He wiped the tears from Andrew’s cheek with the back side of his fingers, then kissed Andrew’s cheek. They took a moment to take in the view.
“Oh, Jackie. Coming back here was definitely a good idea. It feels like a coming home.” Andrew held Jack’s hand tightly and kissed the fingers that had wiped his tears. “I think it is definitely the right place. I can’t believe we haven’t made it a point to come back here until now.”
“Let’s pull it togehter. We’ll be at the guest house any minute,” Jack said. “and it’s unbecoming to arrive for a vacation with tears in your eyes.”
Jack turned left onto Conrad, then right onto Bradford Street, following the directions he’d printed out to the little alley where Adrian’s Guest House sat nestled on a bit of real estate between Provincetown’s two major streets. There were four parking spaces. Jack pulled into the only unoccupied space, the one with a number 3 painted in white on the pavement.
The guys checked in at Adrian’s front desk where a young man with an Eastern European accent ran their credit card, explained the house rules “breakfast is from 8 to 10 and do not forget your key if you are going to out past one AM because the main entrance will be locked” and politely directed them to room Number 3. After unpacking the car, and freshening up, Jack said, “I’m famished. Let’s go grab a bite for lunch.”