We had booked a car to get to Provincetown, which meant waiting for a bus outside the terminal building and a journey of about twenty minutes to the car hire parking lot. Once we got inside we had to join a queue, we were hoping for a quick getaway as I couldn't wait to see the cape but unfortunately this wasn't going to happen. Eventually it was our turn and yes they had our reservation but did we want to upgrade to a bigger car that would fit both our trolleys, no we said. Do you want to take out better insurance to cover even the kitchen sink, no we said and so it went on. By the time we were handed the keys and pointed in the direction of the car almost forty minutes had been wasted and the car we were given was the size of a tank which could easily swallow a family of six and there was only the two of us. This tank was definitely what you call a ‘gas guzzler’; in hindsight we should have asked for something smaller but we didn't.
Getting in the thing was easy enough but how to start it baffled both of us so back into the office we march. Someone came to our rescue and pointed out where the key went in, hidden away from sight, ok off we go.
Traffic in Boston was quite heavy, very slow-going for the first half hour or so, but the further we went the traffic thinned out and, eventually, the Sagamore Bridge appeared in the distance: the gateway to Cape Cod.
The weather hadn't really cheered up very much; it was still grey and drizzle, we decided we wanted a food stop. We turned of the main road into a small town, I guess you could call it, and found a group of typical American takeaway outlets. We opted for the burger joint: ‘when in Rome’. This hit the spot and before long we joined the main road again heading down the Cape to Provincetown.