Our house, in the middle of our street

Downloading Uber to the mobile got us a taxi at a guaranteed price and within the blinking of an eye. What it really meant that Philip was brought to the left hand side of the hire car a little before his head was around which lane to turn in to let alone which side of the ramp to take down 7 levels of car park. Getting out of Boston proved to be relatively easy, the 'Big Dig' having created a massive underground freeway system to make it easy. We were reassured when seeing that all the traffic in the world was coming in to Boston leaving some free space ahead for us (we did think that we will be on that side on Friday, but hey, that is Friday).

Feeling really brave we left the clearly marked highway for the minor roads that took us up the peninsula that is Cape Cod. Really thought we'd see more of the stylish mansions but they are tucked away from viewing by mere mortals. We did find a delightful 20 miles or so of quaint cottages gardens and countryside that was satisfying. Stopping briefly in Plymouth to look over the Mayflower replica Philip discovered that Alan Villiers who brought the replica over from Britain in 1977 was indeed the same Alan Villiers who taught him in 6th grade at Kingsville State School in 1960! After that he wasn't game to investigate any Plymouth Brethren connection.

Arriving in Provincetown was a bit of a letdown as it didn't share the same cuteness as the rest of the peninsula but after some lunch and a better look around it came up the ratings a little. A bit like Sorrento in Victoria with a 100 years on it and a height restriction. Nothing like Sorrento then I suppose but definitely weathered shingles and painted weatherboard.

Getting up the next morning brings a whole different complexion on the place. It is a sleepy town but obviously, now, in the warm light of day it reveals a charm that endears it to us. A few locals fill us in on just how crowded the town will be in a month and it is clear that the whole of Provincetown is being tidied up in preparation for the Sumer onslaught. Hiring bikes lets us discover more and gets us to the Atlantic Coast where I convince Mary that she is strong enough to swim home but she is adamant she left her cossie back in Oz and modesty would prevent her emerging in Ireland in the all together, but I thought that was a pretty thin excuse for avoiding a Ryanair flight.

A little retail therapy, we'll actually a lot, a happy hour at a charming bar overlooking the harbour and we are back home to find space in the limited baggage for the new purchases. The Airbnb selection made by Mary is, once again excellent, the vino is decanted and the feet up for a bit of a rest before we head back to NYC in the morning where the rellies will be starting to assemble for the week of celebrations.