PROVINCETOWN: How it’s taken me forty-plus years to get to P-town is beyond me but I’m glad I made that ferry across Boston Harbor this year. (Coincidentally it was while on the boat that I received a phone call informing me that hereafter my obit would need to read “award-winning writer,” thank you, thank you very much.) Prime season had yet to begin, which meant it was bit more like Montauk in December than The Pines in August and that suited me just fine. The tip of Cape Cod is stunningly beautiful: the flowers were in bloom, the dunes pristine, and the surprisingly clear water was unseasonably mild, meaning just this side of bracing and perfect for swimming. As befits seemingly every Land’s End community, the vibe was not only eccentric and eclectic, but also addictive. And now I can honestly say that, yes, finally, I get the allure of Provincetown.
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