Provincetown

Hubby, The Beast and I went adventuring this weekend! With naught but an atlas, and the knowledge that the town is at the tip of the Cape, we set sail for Provincetown. (Not really in a boat, so it's technically not "setting sail," but whatever.) We got comfy in the car, and settled in for our drive.
Not knowing exactly how long it would take, we decided against making any stops along the way (it was Sat. afternoon already). One stop though, was worth its weight in gold. The Beast popped his beach cherry, running along the sand and frolicking in the waves...well, the small waves. He got blindsided by a couple larger swells, but thoroughly enjoyed himself! He was digging it more than I can describe to you!
Provincetown was in the midst of its Pet Appreciation Weekend (of which we had no idea), so cruising through the downtown was an experience worthy of walking through any pet-friendly vacation destination. Dogs were everywhere! The Beast was overwhelmed with places, people and things to sniff, and it actually got to the point where Hubby had to pick him up just so he could get a rest! He took a nap though, while we enjoyed our own romantic harborside dinner.
And just for you people out there who know about P-Town, our visit was a complete one, as, upon our departure, we were approached by a man in drag, who wanted us to come watch his show.
We spent the night in a drab little place in Eastham, hiding The Beast in our room, and took off relatively early this morning. Breakfast at a little place in Orleans kicked off the day, and we traveled a good portion of our return on the more-scenic Route 6A. The Beast got to run around on another beach; we stopped for a potty break at a beachside public restroom nicer than the bathroom in our $90 motel; and we finally made it back to Boston, on one incredibly expensive tank of gas.