DAY 4: Fire Drill, Plymouth and Cape Cod

It wasn’t until Tuesday morning that we could properly reflect on the night we’d had before. At about 9 o’clock we were all pyjamad and ready for bed, pooped from our busy of day state-hopping. I was lying in bed enjoying an episode of My Wife and Kids with Imogen asleep next to me when suddenly our bliss was interrupted by a fire alarm.

Trundling outside in our mismatched pyjama/clothes/towel outfits we joined the rest of the confused looking guests. Luckily for us, our car was (not supposed to be) parked in the drop-off bay right next to reception so we were able keep warm in the boot without our view of the commotion. In no time at all the car park was full of fire engines, hoses, heavily equipped fire fighters and police officers which despite being exciting didn’t make the weather any warmer.

20 minutes later and things were just as bleak as they had been before. There was evidently no fire yet the wifi still wasn’t working so I couldn’t even play on Kim Kardashian Hollywood to pass the time. Luckily, it wasn’t too much longer before I was again living the dream and watching a 25 year old episode of Full House in bed whilst wearing a coat.

Tuesday was our last day in New England so we decided to visit Plymouth, the first settlement in the whole of America. For a place so important in American history, Plymouth was unbelievably low key. There were plenty of references to England (including a British food shop which sold revolting Beatles memorabilia) but there was no huge museum or attempt at making a song-and-dance like I’d have expected. Nevertheless, Plymouth, like Boston, is a place of absolute beauty. The sea and sky merged into one and the trees were every shade of green and orange. The harbour was filled with beautiful boats of all different sizes and honestly I could have sat and admired its beauty for a very long time.

On our way out of Plymouth we passed a sign citing Peter Brown (name of my Grandad) as one of the 1621 home owners. Predictably this was followed by a lot of ‘I knew he was old but my god, 1621?’ which was funny only because we were on holiday. Our next stop was Cape Cod where I was failed by my bladder at the worst possible time.

We’d just arrived at the beach when I realised that I really needed a wee, like reallyneeded a wee. It was going to be tough to hold it in for longer than 5 minutes and I certainly wasn’t going to risk walking on sand dunes with in-turned knees especially after being informed that littering the beach is a crime. I had to go and I had to go now.

Waddling over to the public toilets, a sense of relief flooded over me and I was counting down the seconds until my bladder would be free. Apparently desperation had rendered me weak as I was struggling to pull the door open. I beckoned my sport-loving sister but not even she could open it-how could this be?! It was then that dread filled the rest of my body as I realised that the toilets were locked and I’d have to use the porta-loo.

I’d consider myself fairly well adjusted to porta-loos. I’ve been to V-Festival twice and enough fayres to be accustomed with the ins and outs of a portable toilet but to my horror, not even day 3 of V-Festival had prepared me for what was to come. I’ll spare you the details but I can tell you that I came out of that toilet a different woman than I went in.

The beach was beautiful and peaceful and provided an excellent back-drop for some photos (including an exceptional panorama of my sister- shalln’t be sharing to spare her embarrassment) but I was glad to get back into the car where I was reunited with my hand sanitiser and some antibac wipes. Driving south away from Cape Cod, we arrived at a harbour town called Woods Hole.

Initially we arrived at a private members golf club but Sat Nav Sally must have gotten confused because we definitely weren’t prepared to tee off. Once we’d arrived where we’d planned to, we stopped for lunch at a water-side café where I was able to remedy my borderline starvation. After such a traumatic morning my body was calling out for some comfort food. It took 10 minutes but the wait was 100% worth it. My mouth was treated to the most incredible burger and I legit could have cried with joy.

After lunch, we wandered around for a little while and watched the ferries come in and out of the harbour. It was peaceful and relaxing, and we were lucky to have such calm weather. The drive back to the hotel was pleasant and I was overjoyed to be greeted with a Mexican feast for dinner. Again, it had been a fantastic day but I was tired and was dying for a shower.

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