We spoke too soon.....

We go back to the Red Inn for dinner after looking at a restaurant in downtown which has been recommended and which, after checking, is no competition.  The bar and most of the dinner tables at the Red Inn are full when we return and the view out across the bay has changed. The sea, a deep mulberry purple as the light fades changes to the darkest blue and then eventually disappears into the darkness.  The lights of the town can be seen arching across the horizon.  We are on the final leg of the trip and Janet and I are reflecting on how smoothly everything has gone.  Other than our delay in the sky over NY the transportation has been slick, the hotels mostly good, the weather apart from a day or two, impeccable.  The places we have visited have been diverse and interesting.  Some won't draw me back but it has been an good exercise in deciding if the US is somewhere I might like to come and teach for a bit.  We comment on the fact that, other than Janet's blisters, there have been no major issues of illness.  Thirty minutes later I am standing in the middle of the street vomiting my guts up.  

It could have been the chicken we had boxed up from our last meal in Martha's Vineyard or the oysters and shrimp we had as a late lunch.  Whatever the origin it was now gracing Bradford Street. I am mortified that I have been sick in the street (how de trop!) so I ask Janet to knock on the door of the house whose driveway has been unfortunately graced with the output.  The elderly lady who answers is remarkably equanimous and good humoured about it.  She finds us a hose which we use to flush the debris away while she stands there in her gateway, devoid of trousers or shoes, telling us about her wild younger years.  I now include Provincetown in my 'top places of the trip' list. 

In the morning I am back to normal and having packed up our bags we leave them with the girls at the guesthouse (fairbanksinn.com) and venture out to get a proper look at the town, this time heading east rather than west along Commercial Street.  Once past the main part of downtown and the wharf area with shops catering for the the kind of visitor that never ventures beyond the obvious the street changes, becomes quieter and largely made up of well kept residential homes amongst which small art galleries and nice restaurants are dotted.  As if often the case, the further you get from town the nicer a place becomes.  People are friendly and pass the time of day. There are many gay couples strolling along the street arm-in-arm and, in common with what we have found before, sporting massively pampered pooches.  We pass a couple of yard sales, which, given we have time on our side, we stop and browse.

It's sunny but the wind is up so the late afternoon crossing to Boston isn't expected to be smooth. There are four more nights to go and lots to see and do in Boston including whale watching and a visit to Harvard Business School.  It's been a great trip so far but even so, I am looking forward to coming home.