After our high-energy sight-seeing tour of Niagara and Palmyra, we needed a vacation. The kind where all you do is relax. So, we decided to pretend we were rich and famous and headed two hours East, to the Hampton's.
1. We shopped. A lot. You know how you after running a long distance you hit a runner's high? Well, I don't run, but after shopping for 800 hours, I hit a shopper's high. At which point, money and functionality don't matter. And so, when I found myself at Barney's (which would have been mistake number one, but we were there to buy a suit for Allen) walking up to the cash register with a pair of Chloe shoes in hand and no idea how they got there, I knew it was time to stop. I clearly remember seeing the fabulous Chloe shoes. Petting them. Putting them on my feet. Lovingly admiring them. But the part where my brain and my hands agreed that it was reasonable to purchase these shoes, that part is all a fog. Point: It is unlawful for me to purchase while shopping under the influence. I painfully pried the shoes from my uncooperating hands, and walked out with only one killer suit. For Allen.
2. We beached. We spent two days at two different beaches. First up was Cupsogue Beach in Westhampton. The water was crystal clear. And perfect. This beach was affordable, and thus, by noon, was packed. The second day we decided to go for a more exclusive feel (because we were pretending to be rich and famous and all) and landed at Cooper's Beach, in Southampton. Also known as the Number One beach in America. With good reason. It was pristine. The sand had been freshly raked, the water was like sparkling crystals, the people glamorous, the scenery priceless (or 35 million and 33,000 square feet a pop). It was exactly how I pictured the Hampton's. And considering that it cost me my first born and my right leg to step foot on the beach, it was quiet. With only a few people dotted across the shoreline. All with matching umbrellas. Nice.
The finished product, which was way more impressive in person. It jutted up a good two feet in the air. Note: Chubs hamming it up in the background.
The finished product. I am obviously lacking in the creativity department.
3. We went sight-seeing. We drove all along the coast, making sure to ogle at every Hampton. At the very tip of Long Island, as in, where the land hits the ocean, is the Montauk Point the Lighthouse. The oldest lighthouse in New York, commissioned by George Washington and built in 1796. We took a gander.
Those above 41" climbed all 137 stairs to the top. All for this picture.
The best part was the rolling hill outside of the lighthouse. The picture doesn't capture the actual steepness of the hill, or Allen's "ready to vomit" face, but both were quite impressive.
4. We ate. Nearly as much as we shopped. With three unruly and impatient children, we were unable to frequent the fancy shmancy restaurants, but we did manage to have some phenomenal food. Like at the Crab Bar, where we watched them unload the fresh seafood from a truck, and then fry it up for us. The most succulent, mouth-watering, fried deliciousness ever. And speaking of fried deliciousness, pretty sure I had sweet potato fries with every meal. I don't know what it is about the Hampton's and their sweet potato fries, but bless you.
Only one more week before Allen goes back to work. I am not ready for this dreamy blissfulness to end.