This west coast girl can get used to east coast beaches! Being on Fire Island is like being in an episode of Barefoot Contessa -- sans Jeffrey, my black convertible Mercedes, and my astonishingly handsome gay bridge partner. The sea grass and cedar fences that dot the soft sand dunes along the Atlantic are a sweet contrast to the rugged and craggy beaches of the California coast. It's the perfect place to escape the hussle and bustle of Manhattan.
Thanks to Evan's friend's parents, we had a chance to experience living at their spacious and well-appointed beach house for 4 days. We left the city Friday late morning and took the 20-minute ferry ride from Bayshore, Long Island to the Fire Island Seaview Terminal. There, we were greeted by cute wagons that families leave tied up near the terminal to cart their belongings to their (2nd/3rd/4th/?) homes. 
Carfree, it's the perfect place to: ride beach cruisers,
play with Molly, one of the sweetest dogs in the whole wide world,
watch out for jellyfish, 
and find my dream house.
Come Monday night, I was sad to see the wagons all tied up and to say good-bye to the last hurrah of the summer, but there's always next year.
Fire Island in late August: as Ina would say, "how bad can that be?"
*Technically, my first east coast destination outside of the city is Paramus, NJ, which is surprisingly just as blogworthy, but for different reasons. Ha.
2 comments:
these pics are great!! I want to go to Fire Island!
You would have loved it! Perhaps I can visit you at your "surprise" house in the Cape next summer! :-)
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