on the Cod

all puffed-up with a down jacket on underneath - waiting for the sun to melt the frosting on the tent

We're heading down the coast and it's the second stone-cold day in a row.  At lunch we stop at a strip mall and take refuge out of the wind and in a sun-trap behind the supermarket.  A cleaner comes by picking up the litter and he stops to chew the cud, lamenting all the local 'McMansions' which are still being built when there's no-one left who could afford them or who hasn't got one already. Meanwhile there isn't enough affordable housing.  After this insightful conversation we mush on because we have Warm Showers hosts awaiting.  

The trick is finding the bike path over the bridge to Cape Cod.  We start going on the correct right-hand side but there is no hard-shoulder.  It is only on the final bridge approach we see the pavement on the other side.  Curses.  Once over the bridge it's an easy flat ride to reach the Murphy's house.  Gayle's navigating is impeccable and the light has just begun to fade when we pull up outside.  We are met by Scout and her dad Murphy and led around the back where the horses and dogs live and to where we can put the bikes to bed.  Scout is young but very chatty.  Murphy explains that his wife is working a night shift.  They are both fire-fighters.  She had called to say we were coming because she spotted us on the bridge.  Murphy also whispers sotto voce that he hasn't seen his daughter this chatty.  While he cooks the tea Scout shows us their animals in the paddocks out back and then brings us the book she has written.  Scout didn't do the drawings, "a woman did those", but Scout has made up the story.  It's a children's book.  I feel a pang of envy.

Murphy, Scout and her friend, over breakfast

Later on, chatting about the presidential elections Murphy confesses, sotto voce again, that he voted for Trump. But why?  Well, Bernie Sanders wasn't running and he certainly wasn't voting for Clinton, who "was born with a silver spoon in her mouth".  We feel shocked that a WS host, a vegan WS host no less, could vote Trump - not typical we think.  But we're also shocked that someone who would have voted for a self-proclaimed 'socialist' multi-miilionaire then voted for a nationalist populist multi-millionaire and despised the other candidate for incorrectly assuming she was born with a silver spoon....... Ach!

In the morning Murphy gives us complicated directions to find the way onto the Rail Trail that runs up through the Cape.  After a couple of wrong turns we get to it and then have a really pleasant ride to our next host.  

With the nights starting so early and the temperatures dropping we think it's okay to look for regular Warm Showers hosts and we're especially glad to meet Harrison (Not Ford).  A retired park ranger, Harrison is delaying setting off in his small camper for the winter.  He welcomes us in and we also meet Michael and Natalie, a German couple who have contacted Harrison through Couchsurfing.  Harrison's wooden house is not very big but he's happy to squeeze us in, even giving up his own bed.  We sit and talk after dinner and then Harrison takes out a guitar and serenades us.  He seems to enjoy the really sad songs and the really silly songs.  And then we learn that he has written the really silly songs himself and is heading to an open-mic night tomorrow evening, if we'd like to join him.  We do.
 

I thought Harrison had a nicotine-stained beard but it turned out to be the glass of turmeric he drank every morning

The morning is a bit cold and damp and Harrison offers to drive us up to the main highway to the bus stop.  We want to visit Provincetown, the town at the tip of the Cod.  But we drive on straight past the bus stop while Harrison is chatting away and then we guess his game - he kindly gives us a little guided tour of some of the scenic spots along the shore before dropping us in Provincetown.  On a whim he also decides to do a bit of 'outdoor practice' or busking.  The town is quiet - well out of season - but we have a good wander and before getting the bus back find ourselves in the library.  It's big and airy and the facilities get 4 stars. It would've got 5 except the garden benches were a bit exposed to the elements so we had a breezy picnic.

P-Town architecture (the town is actually very colourful)

The open mic night turns out to be very good, contrary to expectations.  There are clearly a lot of regulars and it's true, most of the people in the bar turned out to be performers, some nervy and new, others accomplished and dull, some confident and brash.  It may seem biased but we really enjoyed Harrison Not Ford's spot the most. His song about a doomed love affiar with a sex doll is topped by Stuffed Bunny Roadkill - a song inspired by a kid's toy found on the side of the road.  He finishes by bringing up a group from one table to help sing The Weight.  He is by far the funniest act, although he is run a close first by the young accordeonist who acrobatically performs some old-time-vaudeville style song (probably from a musical).  Excellent stuff.  We depart in the morning wishing Harrison Not Ford well on his 'tour' in the south and west.

Harrison Not Ford's tour warm-up gig