Cape 20 Something

Cape Native Sees From Visitors' Perspective

Ever had to decide whether to take the Sagamore Bridge or the Cape Cod Tunnel to get to the Cape for your weekend trip?

If you’re not familiar with the area, you wouldn’t really know any better than to believe a local when they give you wrong directions or even advise you “the tunnel” is a much quicker route than the bridges. Feeling like a tourist might not be something most of us experience too often because as the nice saying has it, we live where you vacation.

I’ll admit it. I am certainly not always the most patient, or understanding, or helpful to tourists… especially when it’s extremely busy at work and they want to talk about the must sees and dos the Cape and Islands have to offer. In fact, just last week a man was asking me all about Nantucket; is it fun for kids, where are good places to eat, can they bring their car? It occurred to me then that I really didn’t have a clue. I told him that I’ve only been there a couple of times, both were just for soccer games and then I left the island without even seeing it. He was just as surprised to hear this, as I was to realize it. It put things into perspective for me by making me want to explore this great island that for some reason I have taken advantage of living a one-hour boat ride from.

So this weekend after saving up my tips from the week at work and getting free ferry passes from a friend, my boyfriend and I decided to make the voyage across Nantucket Sound to the little island. We did the whole touristy thing of renting mountain bikes from famous Young’s right there on Broad Street near the wharf. And after being fitted for our $50-bikes and being read the “Rules of the Road,” Mike and I headed out with our helmets fastened properly planning to just ride around to no real destination. I figured that with just our bikes and backpack, we had a chance at blending with the residents. I always have hated going anywhere and sticking out like a sore thumb. After being a lifelong Falmouth resident, I can spot a tourist before I even hear them speak, as I’m sure many Cape Codders can. So I really did not want to take out that map right there on the side of the road and expose our true off-island identity. It would just be too shameful I thought.

After about 10 minutes of one-way roads and realizing that we didn’t even know which part of Nantucket we were in, we sucked up our touristy pride and whipped out the huge map, right there, for all passerby to witness. The gig was up. But I soon saw something from the visitors’ perspective that I haven’t noticed before on the Cape. Mike and I went into the little chochkee shops looking for a cheap Nantucket sweatshirt with a whale. As a frugal girl, I looked around the several shops in the area for a “good deal” and decided on one for $29.99 with hopes that it shrinks a full size. All those store employees were so helpful and friendly. Clearly I was a tourist and it didn’t even matter. One girl told me how much she liked my sandals. Another store employee told us she was “so sorry” because we stood at the counter for about point 2 seconds waiting to be rung up. At lunch, our waitress gladly told us where to go for the cheapest sweatshirts and gave us correct directions out of town to the famous bar, The Chicken Box. She drew the route with a marker right on our map for us. These people wanted to talk to you, they wanted to help you, and they really wanted you to leave the stores happy and carrying the items you were looking for.

So we ended up at the bar, off Dave Street right where she said it would be. And would you believe it, that bartender might have been the friendliest I’ve had since turning 21 six months ago. She even said that she wouldn’t consider us tourist, just “off-islanders.” Maybe she just wanted a good tip, but we were giving her one anyway for such good strong drinks. It was absurd. I was shocked that after almost the whole summer, these store clerks and waitresses and bartenders could still be so patient and kind to obvious tourists like us. We returned our bikes and the girl asked us if we had a good ride. We did, it was an amazing day.

So last night at work I was started to get frustrated with a customer, an obvious tourist, because they could not grasp the concept of one side order, not two. And then I caught myself and pictured Mike and I looking like drunken idiots on bicycles with our big map, searching for the cheapest sweatshirts on the island.