Last weekend, we visited Nantucket for the first time. It's the off season, but we had fine weather -- perfect for strolls in the village and along the beaches. We departed from Hyannis. At this time of year, the logistics are easy -- park the car, hop a shuttle and scoot onto the ferry. We were a mite tardy, but they let me grab my tickets. We ascended onto the upper deck and here's what we saw as the ferry began to pull away.
The ferry itself was quite modern and designed for speed. Nantucket is 27 miles from Hyannis, but we made the trip in an hour, reaching speeds of up to 40 mph when on the open seas. I'm accustomed to having time to read and relax on ferry trips, but this time I sighted land after reading just a couple items from the Sunday paper. The water vantage point offers fine views of the village:
We stepped off the ferry and quickly found a casual place to eat -- the Easy Street Cantina. My wife got the last of the lobster salad rolls, but my son and I were content to munch on falafels and sip from raspberry lemonades. We were staying at a B & B, so we set out to find it after lunch. We ended up walking a bit too far, but enjoyed a stint out in the bright sunlight. We circled back and soon found the right spot. We got settled in pretty quickly and then checked out the view from the deck attached to our room.
It was wonderful to be able to stay at a place right near a small beach and within easy walking distance to the downtown. My wife decided to nap on the veranda, but my son and I set out to explore the village. We walked toward the center of town and soon encountered cobblestones underfoot on the roadways and inlaid brick on the sidewalks. Soon we reached Main Street and found a sign which helped to orient us -- turns out we were only about 3700 miles away from Paris.
We turned back to Main Street and began walking up its slight incline. The street is lined with numerous shops. We'd noticed the buildings near the waterfront all looked relatively new, but the buildings seemed to get older as we walked further up Main Street. A bookstore on the left caught our eyes. Inside, the books were neatly arrayed on the shelves and I quickly found myself thumbing pages of books by David Foster Wallace, Thomas Pynchon and Robert Silverberg. Tempted, but not hooked, we eventually moved on. I'll finish this post with a glimpse of Main Street as it looked on this comfortable spring day.