Florida

Or, as my Italian neighbor, fresh from the old country, likes to say ….   Flor-duh.

God's waiting room.  Land of the killer power chair, and versatile walker, replete with cut off tennis balls to grease the skids, making it a dangerous speed machine.

Oh, Florida is all of this, but thankfully, much more as well.  It has younger folk and places to eat, or wet your whistle, or both.  They all get along rather well, but do not, I repeat, do not, under any circumstances, try to outrace a senior citizen from the parking lot to the door of a restaurant at 4PM, the official start of the "early bird special."  They will cut you off, cut you down, and block you out like you were made of paper mache. No football player could dispatch you faster.  Nothing, no, nothing will keep them from getting ahead of you in the seating line. Go ahead, try it, I dare you.  You'll see.

Anyway, that's where I am right now, in a desperate race to ditch my winter mood.  Find me a pool, or take me to a beach. Let the sun shine on me, and warm me, console me, heal me.  And just in case that's not quite enough, can you fetch me a beer, or a wine.

Mark Twain Quote: "Bermuda:  I said it was like being in Heaven.  The Reverend rebukingly and rather pointedly advised me to make the most of it then." (The same could be said of me and Florida, I suppose)

My Unvisited Gem

I need to visit one more place while I'm still in the mental state that requires beach intervention as the sole savior of my spirit.  No ice cream cone, no sundae known, no drink so strong, no filtered bong, no painting clear, no book so dear, no, none of these can stop me from falling deep.  None but sand, and sun, and warm, and smell, and rhymthic waves that reach my ears, only these can tame my fears.  Can you tell that I've reached the end of the rope?  Yup, hanging by one hand I am.

So I write of a place I've never seen, but having once been to sea, know that it is near to me, near in mind, near in eye, near in spirit, near in heart. 

It is the special place of someone I know, and when more than once I would glorify the Cape, she would tell of the "Isle."  The Emerald Isle.  The name alone paints the picture.

The View From Up Top

All places have a history, and this is no exception.  It is an idyllic spit of land that makes its home at the southern end of the Outer Banks, at a location named The Crystal Coast, all of it resting on the Bogue Banks.  It is a barrier island some 30 miles long, give or take.  And Emerald Isle occupies a prominent spot on this landscape. And the whole island appears to be uninterrupted beach.  Imagine the luxury of it.

Originally, like everything close, it was home to the native tribes, Algonquin in this case, from about 500AD to colonial times.  Pirates too called it home, and one Edward Teach, who history calls Blackbeard, sailed from there to plunder and meet his fate. He was a pirate for but two short years, before he was hunted and killed on the Outer Banks, just north of the Crystal Coast.

Now this is a pier….The Bogue Pier

Later, in more civilized times, the land was settled by whalers and fishermen.  And the Isle came to be called Emerald thanks to the large maritime forests on that part of the island.  With all this history and beauty, it is rather odd to learn that it was sparsely popoulated for all but recent history. It started with about 15 families who arrived in 1893.  And it largely remained that until about 1950, when small family cottages began to appear. So, one may draw the conclusion that despite its romantic beauty, Emerald Isle did not, for some odd reason, instill in the natives any great desire to procreate.

But the secret couldn't stay hidden for long.  If the natives wouldn't cooperate, the population expansion would have to be imported.  For you see, in 1950, it was home to only about 14 people.  One of the most beautiful spots on earth one could imagine, and only 14 people were there to enjoy the view. Fast forward to 2008, when the permanent population stood at about 3,900 folks.  But a lot happened between the 15 and the 3,900.

It was called development, and it really started way back in the 1920s, with a dream that never really took off.  It got serious in the 1950s, when Emerald Isle was sold and sliced into parcels, Talk about "Oh, why didn't I get in on that?"  The whole parcel of Emerald Isle, some 12 miles wide, was purchased for $350,000. The price of one small house today. Oy.

The Portal to Paradise

The ferry service from the mainland started in 1960, and the Cameron Langston Bridge (the Emerald Isle Bridge) was  added in the early 1970s,  and away we go.  Fast forward to today.  In season, over 50,000 visitors will journey to Emerald Isle to renew, refresh, and recharge.  And they all want to stay forever.

Miles of Heaven

There are many reasons for this of course, a principal one being the family oriented atmosphere deliberatley built into the planning and development of this paradise.  Today, the oceanfront is lined with both large and small homes. While there is a scattering of condominiums, there are no oceanfront hotels to commercialize what nature created to be enjoyed in its birthday suit.  Imagine that….not one gaudy hotel for miles and miles.  Just homes.  Let's go for a walk.

Off the Crystal Coast, this needs no words

There was one other surprise I learned in researching the Emerald Isle.  The Outer Banks face the Atlantic Ocean.  How can it be, I once thought, that one could take a picture of the setting sun.  Rising sun, yes, but the last I knew, the sun still set in the west, not the east.  Well, check the  map I was told.  It turns out that the Crystal Coast, which is on the very southern end of the OBs, is tucked underneath the changing coast and actually is orientated east to west, so that the homes on the beaches actually face south…..what a treat.  One can sit on their porch and see both the sun rise and the sun set. Is this heaven or what?  Walk to greet the rising sun and walk again to put it to sleep.

End of another day in Paradise

Oh yeah, it's on my bucket list.

Mark Twain Quote:  "Now and then we had a hope that if we lived and were good, God would permit us to be pirates."

Cape Break #2

Cape trivia was fun.  Tonight (Monday as I write this) it is 14 degrees and heading for below zero.  Just 17 days before Spring.  And even though the sun showed its face in Syracuse today, my blueness continues.  That may come to be a topic for more than one post down the road.  But for now, I need more Cape Trivia, for there is no end to this winter. 

Provincetown’s Pilgrim Monument, at 252 ft., is the tallest all granite structure in America.  And yes, I have climbed to the top. Worth the view.

Pilgrim Monument

Coast Guard Beach in Eastham is regularly named to Conde Nast Traveler’s top Ten Beaches in the U.S.

Cape Cod makes, for the world to enjoy – Cape Cod Potato Chips!  Some say they are the world’s best….and I’m one of them.  Kettle Chips w/ 40% less fat.  Hmmmm. You can tour their factory in Hyannis.

 

Wellfleet, MA

You reading this MG?  Wellfleet Oysters are prized by chefs the world over for their delicacy and sweetness.  This town has been famous for oysters ever since the explorer Champlain found them in 1606.  There is a Wellfleet Oyster Weekend in October each year.  Personally, well, steamed clams are about as close as I’m ever going to get to an oyster. I tried.  Succeeded once, caught in the midst of a nice buzz. One and done.

Can you say oysters?

On your way into Wellfleet, stop at the First Congregational Church, a handsome 1850 Greek Revival edifice, replete with the only town clock which rings ship’s time in lieu of regular time.  It takes too long to explain, so look it up and check it out as it is really neat.  Or confusing, depending on whether or not you know about the ship’s time thing.  It's in Ripley's Believe It or Not.  Believe it or not.  

 

First Congretational Church

Cape Playhouse in Dennis is America’s oldest professional theatre.  It has seen the likes of Jessica Tandy, Bette Davis (she ushered there too), Gregory Peck and Basil Rathbone.

Cape Playhouse

Cape Cinema, the 92 seat theater on the grounds of the Cape Playhouse, with its 6,400 square-foot Art Deco ceiling mural of Prometheus, opened July 1, 1930, world-premiering The Wizard of Oz.  The mural is the largest in North America.

The Mayflower Compact was drafted in Cape Cod Bay by the Pilgrims (probably eating Wellfleet oysters and drinking a pint or two) during their 5 week stay here.  It was the first written "constitution,"  an agreement whereby a free people would self govern.  It was the birth of our history. 

That’s enough for now.  Depending on the weather and/or the mood, we’ll be back.  Or perhaps we’ll tour another magic spot, this one much further south than the Cape.  I'm beginning to smell the sea. 

Mark Twain Quote: “Foreigners cannot enjoy our food, I suppose, any more than we can enjoy theirs.  It is not strange; for tastes are made, not born.  I might glorify my bill of fare until I was tired; but after all, the Scotchman would shake his head, and say, “Where’s your haggis?” and the Fijan would sigh and say, “Where’s your missionary?”