The Panic: "MDW is this weekend and we have no plans. I'm not staying in New York."
The Solution: "Martha's Vineyard is close... we've never been..."
The Promise: Martha's Vineyard conjures up images of American flags blustering in an ocean breeze, cedar-shake cottages, cool, dark Atlantic waters, harbor towns and lighthouses, caramel-sand beaches and the promise of summer sunsets on the beach cuddled into a heavy cotton sweater.
The Reality: 50 degrees and raining all weekend, we ducked under umbrellas and raincoats, shivering from the damp woodlands and red-nosed from the whipping winds. After some tears lamenting over the unideal weather, we bundled up on the beach, ducked in and out of local boutiques in town, poured (no pun intended) over the bookshelves at our perfect B&B, the Edgartown Inn, rode our bikes clear across the island from Edgartown to Menemsha during a break in the rain, helped ourselves to a gluttonous amount of seafood at the Menemsha Fish Market, washed down oysters with local sour beer and muscadet, drank martinis and struck up friendships with the crew at l'etoile, and finally, in the pouring rain, gave up and went to the Edgartown Cinema to see the locally-inspired Chappaquiddick.