More than a year ago, my friend and fellow blogger, Dan Cirucci, published a highly derogatory column about Cape May. Complaining about traffic-clogged roads and hordes of people descending on this popular seaside community in New Jersey each summer, he waxed poetic about the palmettos of Hilton Head, his choice for beach vacations.
Dan will no doubt laugh when he hears that on a particularly frigid Boston day in February, I booked Dennis and me for an entire week at the Congress Hall Hotel this July. It’s a comfortable hotel abutting a beach with the pounding surf I find especially soothing – even if the sound has the potential to be drowned out by large numbers of anxious mothers yelling at even larger numbers of small children.
Cape May is known for birding, and I could lie and tell you I’m hoping to spend the week looking for a spotted something or other. With its abundance of beautiful Victorian homes, I could tell you I’m planning to go on lots of architectural tours. Dare I say that the bulk of our site seeing will be en route to some very nice eateries?
The truth is that I’m hoping for long, therapeutic days in a beach chair -- with no computer, and just a few trashy novels. I’ll even settle for a few fog-enshrouded days, praying for no downpours. No doubt Cape May is everything Dan has said it is. Though I don’t remember whether he resorted to the phrase honky-tonk, I’ll tell you that I can’t wait to go into all those shops selling fudge and chewy chocolate things with marshmallow and caramel.
Yes, like Sandra Day O’Connor and Sonia Sotomayor, I too, loved reading Nancy Drew. But I loved the Bobbsey Twins even more, especially the volume where Bert and Nan, and Flossie and Freddie get to spend their summer at the seashore. Reading that book while knowing that my family was spending the summer at Grandma’s home in Lake Hiawatha, New Jersey filled me with longing.
In those years the Jersey shore was for me associated with the Miss America pageant, pre-Anita Bryant, pre-gambling. After a day trip with my parents at the beach in Atlantic City, I begged them to take me back to the land of sun, sand, sea and saltwater taffy shops.
The next time I returned to the Jersey shore was as the mother of the bride last November. My son-in-law, Etan is from Philadelphia, and Daphne fell in love with Cape May when they went to visit his Aunt Vicky and Uncle Joel, who have a home there. Etan’s mother and Daphne’s aunt did separate inspection tours of the Hotel Alcott, and pronounced it a perfect venue for a fall wedding.
Though I toyed with the idea of stopping at Atlantic City en route, ultimately I decided that Dennis and I should drive directly from Boston to Cape May, spending a few days before the wedding at the Virginia Hotel. We didn’t see much sun, but I delighted in running along the beach, feeling the gale force winds in my hair, and the mist on my face.
My friend, Dan and his wife live in a New Jersey suburb of Philadelphia, and I assume that many of their neighbors consider Cape May a default destination for beach vacations. Cape Cod and the Maine coast, both beautiful but also distressingly congested in summer, are the default for those of us living in Boston. Need I say more?
Fun Links
Down the Shore with Jen
Dan Cirucci's Blog
Well, Bonnie - I'm still tryin to live down my op-ed on the Joisey shore. People really became angry and upset over it.
ReplyDeleteBut my derogatory comments were directed more at Atlantic City, the Wildwoods and Ocean City than they were at Cape May. Still, people lumped it all together.
You nailed it: the Jersey shore is all too common for us just as Cape Cod is all too familiar for you.
Your Hilton Head is Cape Cod.
Mine is . . . Hilton Head!
Have fun!
Dan,
ReplyDeleteI think my Hilton Head is the Outer Banks. We've had some lovely stays at The Sanderling in Duck, but I now cringe at the thought of getting on a plane unless I need to.