Sleeping in a tent on the beach isn’t so terrible. In fact, it was some kind of wonderful – that is, if you don’t mind the 80-degree air, no breeze and a small fan that circulates the 80-degree air.
But looking out the makeshift, mesh window up into the dark sky with no surrounding lights but the stars in space made the heat bearable. Even worth it. And when I saw a shooting star streak across the black sky, it was literally perfect. There was nothing else I could have wanted at that moment. (Hot bath? Sushi? Air conditioning? Nope. This is SO much better, thanks.)
After a long night of tossing and turning on an air mattress that gradually loses air, the sun came back up. We were scheduled to leave on the Ferry at 9AM to go back the way we came, with plans of stopping at another beach before heading home. Instead, we decided to be free birds. (Freebird!) So we canceled our reservation. With no other plans but to do whatsoever we wanted. It’s quite an amazing feeling.
So, I said, “Let’s take a walk on the beach” because I like to be romantic and cheesy and all things awesome.
However, let’s have it on the record that ManFriend said he thought up this eventĀ before I said it aloud, therefore, it was his idea.
So we head over the dunes along the beach. The most beautiful morning of my life. See?
Hi, perfection.
We walked. And we walked. We saw little tiny footprints in the sand from the water to the dunes from ants bringing in a crab leg for breakfast. And we walked. Then it started sprinkling, so we thought we should probably head back, considering our towels were hanging outside and, OH YEAH, our tent is open.
And it poured. Like, Hurricane Holy. Do you know how difficult it is to run in the sand wearing soaking wet clothes? Do you know how difficult it is to run in the sand wearing DRY clothes?
The air mattress and sheets inside the tent were soaked. The towels outside hanging on chairs were damp. Tell me, I pray, how does that work?
We get it cleaned up just as the rain wanes (duh). But what’s a perfect vacation without a little adventure, right?
After showers (the real kind, not from the clouds) and packing, we head to the little village for breakfast, souvenirs and whatever was to come next. We chose Sweet Tooth, because the name just screams amazing breakfast food. It was either there or the place with the sign out front that said “best breakfast in town,” and you know they had to put that sign out to garner business because they certainly DO NOT have the best breakfast food in town. I’m not an over-thinker.
I had a BLT bagel with cream cheese. Gross, you may think, but my friend, it was absolutely amazing. I like to think I’m pretty adventurous when it comes to food, but I never would have thought to put cream cheese on a bagel with bacon, tomato, onion and lettuce. Do you understand now why Ocracoke is the best place on Earth? Walt Disney who?
After some Tshirt-buying and back-road driving, we took a trip over to the island’s lighthouse. I had never seen one in person. I live in WV, people.
Try not to focus on my nasty wind-blown, not-flat-ironed, borderline-greasy-because-there-wasn’t-a-real-shower hair and look at the lighthouse. Or better yet, ManFriend. Because he’s easy on the eyes.
I’d like to insert some historical facts here about this lighthouse or a really cool feature, but I don’t want to bore you. And, I only know the name of it: Ocracoke Lighthouse.
By this time, we’d seen all there was to see of this little island in the Outer Banks. So it was time to wave goodbye, wipe the tears and move on. So we go to the ferry.
Remember when I said our original plan was to ride the same ferry back, hit the beach, and travel the same route home as the way we came? Yeah. We decided to do the TOTAL OPPOSITE. My favorite part was our conversation over breakfast:
ManFriend: So what do you want to do? I really don’t care, so just tell me.
Me: To be honest, I really don’t want to go to Cape Hatteras and drive the five hours back home.
ManFriend: Okay, that’s fine.
I’ll give you one guess as to what we ended up doing. That’s right. We took the ferry to Hatteras Island. And I’m so glad ManFriend made the executive decision to do so. I’m not ALWAYS right. Just most of the time.
We took the ferry (only 45 minutes this time, praise Ye) and drove up Hatteras through the rest of the Outer Banks. We stopped at Cape Hatteras Lighthouse, which was MUCH more crowded and commercialized than Ocracoke, as was the entire island. Do you understand yet why I love Ocracoke?
You could walk to the top of this one. And I really wanted to. But then I thought about paying $7 to walk up 268 STEPS? No. Thank you. I’ll pay $40 to be dropped from that height at Kings Island, but not to work out my calves and thighs. Puh-lease.
I actually know something about this here lighthouse. Where you see it in the above picture is actually not it’s original location. It was built on a nearby beach, a safe 1,500 feet from the ocean. But over the years, as a result of storm-ridden tides and erosion of the beach, it ended up being a mere 120 feet from the ocean. So, what else do you do with a 200+-foot-tall lighthouse? Move it. Duh. So they did. Almost 3,000 feet away from it’s original spot to where you see it in the picture behind my nasty hair. It took them 23 days, and lots of people. (I should have been a reporter. Oh, wait. I went to school for that? Oops.)
Then, because our bodies can’t function for more than a few hours without some kind of sustenance, we were hungry again. I’m sorry, Giovanni’s calzone, but you are no longer my first love.
I don’t remember the name of this place, and I didn’t take a picture (what?!), but it was amazing. My calzone had chicken, pepperoni and banana peppers and was like magic in my belly. And I could only eat half, which is saying a lot because, Hi, I like to eat. A lot.
While sitting at this little pizza palace, I get this text from my friend:
Jamie: I didn’t know you were in NC. We were there a few days ago … we’re in Myrtle Beach now.
Me: Are you going back?
Jamie: Yeah, Saturday.
Me: Gotcha. We will probably be gone by then.
Jamie: You guys should come down to our condo in Myrtle. Kristi (high-school BFF) is coming tonight for a few days.
Me: K. We’ll be there!
This is Wednesday. We were supposed to leave Tuesday. I was supposed to be back at work on this day. OH FRIGGIN’ WELL! We were loving this whole freedom thing. And when ManFriend said, “Sure, let’s go!” I was ridiculous. Excited. Even though I was all, “We don’t have to, baby.”
But he is all kinds of wonderful and wanted to have the best week ever, so we decided to go.
We would have driven straight from Hatteras Island down to Myrtle Beach, but our clothes were soaked and sandy and we had junk in our trunk. Ya know, like camping stuff.
So we drove up through the last bit of Hatteras and through Nags Head. We saw the last of our lighthouses, which totaled three out of five lighthouses on the coast of North Carolina. This one was more like Ocracoke – less commercialized and not crowded at all, but under construction. Do we look exhausted, OR WHAT?
What used to be the lighthouse keeper’s house was still standing, and was converted into a souvenir store. In one room, there was a mom and her two kids literally lying in the floor working educational coloring books. When we tried to walk by but her boy was in the way, she slid him closer to him. Like, pulled him across the floor. Classy.
Then we hit the road for the final three-ish hours back to ManFriend’s parents’ house to unload and repack. Switched out wet towels for dry ones, dirty clothes for clean, bug spray for hair spray. I didn’t even shower. I was just ready to go.
So we went. For beach adventure number three.
To be continued…
I promise the next one will be the last. Okay, I can’t make promises, but I’m PRETTY SURE.
Go to Part Five.
Woman, you look fabulous. I just wanted to insert my opinion.