So I’ll admit it. Navdeep and I like to have a good time, whether we’re at home in Jersey City, working it in New York, hanging out with the family in central Jersey or California, or traipsing through the rest of the country. So as we made plans for a writer’s retreat week in Provincetown, nestled on the eastern-most tip of of Massachusetts, we had to keep reminding ourselves that we were supposed to be going there to work, not play. (Especially since my parents were going to watch Kavya for the whole week. Thanks Mommy and Daddly!)
It was difficult. After all, Provincetown boasts beautiful beaches, a vibrant art scene, and a charming downtown filled with charming, painted Victorians. And if you know me, you know I swoon over a candy-colored Victorian. Plus, the drive up is a beauty, too, especially if you make a pitstop four hours in at the adorable Newport, RI, bastion of Gatsby-era mansions decked out in Italianate, Greco-Roman and Victorian styles and nestled on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic. All in all, it’s a summer vacation dream come true for me. And Navdeep was pretty smitten, too.
So we gave ourselves a day. We got up—or actually, I never went to bed—before dawn on Sunday morning to set out. And while I passed out cold in the passenger seat, Navdeep navigated our way through New Jersey, New York, Connecticut, and Rhode Island, which is when I finally woke up.
We decided a stroll on the Newport cliff walk was in order to stretch our legs, then finally found the enormous and enchanting 19th century mansion called the Breakers, which I had decided was a must-see. Plonking down $31 each for a five-mansion pass—which can be utilized in perpetuity until you actually manage to see five mansions—I attacked the Breakers with my real estate vigor, while Navdeep perused it at a much calmer, less look-at-that-and-that-and-that pace. Some fun facts about the house: it was owned by the Vanderbilts—yes those Vanderbilts, and clocks in at 70 rooms and 20 bathrooms, and about 130,000 square feet. Yes, you read that number right. It’d decorated in the old Italian style, which means lots of cherubs and gold-leaf and even those fancy muraled ceilings. All in all, definitely worth checking out.
But enough about the first pitstop. Onto the next: Antonio’s, a renowned Portuguese dive of a joint nestled in Bedford, Mass., where old world recipes meet fresh New England seafood. Navdeep had scavenged up the place as a lunch spot for us, and we stopped in for some stuffed quahogs, littleneck clams, and shrimp in their special saffron sauce, which was so buttery and delightful I could have drank it by the cup. We used the soft Portuguese bread to mop up every last drop. (Editor’s note: nearly 12 years later, Sona still dreams of this broth.)
After that, it was full speed ahead to Provincetown. Navdeep was doing a five-day playwriting residency with Melinda Lopez at the Fine Arts Work Center, a creative community that offers writer’s retreats summer workshops with some truly stellar writing instructors (and year-long residencies for writers, too). After a quick grocery run, we quickly settled into our big, sunny studio, which featured a bed, a futon, a table, a kitchenette, a full bath, and high ceilings, plus a wall of windows to let the light in.
It was nestled on Pearl Street, just a few blocks from Provincetown’s gorgeous beaches, and all around us were small, cozy beach homes and gardens full of flowers. Provincetown is truly idyllic—a gorgeous beach town with a long, storied history and a strong arts community. Plus: Bear Week! (Which we didn’t realize were there right in time for.)
While Navdeep spent time in his workshop during the day, I self-crafted a writer’s retreat. I settled into our space with some tea and thought and read and eventually wrote. (I am a master procrastinator.) It was nice not having a TV. When I’d get distracted, I roamed around Provincetown, walking the beach or parking myself at Kohi Coffee Company, right down the street and on the path to the beach. I’d sit there for hours, tapping away on my computer, and inevitably, someone would ask the question. “Are you here on vacation?” Which always left me a bit flummoxed. (Which, let’s face it, is near my natural state.)
Yes. But no. Sort of? Not really. Navdeep and I had decided: while, yes, this was a week away in a beautiful beach town, we were there to work. To think. To write. To really focus on giving ourselves some space as creatives. And in a setting like Provincetown, devoting yourself to the task at hand is no easy feat, especially when the beach and little shops and all those charming restaurants beckon. So while the easy answer would have been yes, I always had to remind myself that, “No, I’m not here on vacation.” I’m on a writer’s retreat. Yep. And stick to it.
All in all, I did get a good chunk of writing done that week—the first substantial dent I’ve made since graduating from the New School a few months ago. But after a hard morning’s work, Navdeep and I made sure to enjoy Provincetown, too. We got some groceries and made some sweet little meals in our studio, but we also nabbed some delicious burgers at Blondie’s, renowned for late night bargain bites. And I tried—and loved—my first ever lobster at the infamous Lobster Pot, which is big, bold, tacky and amazing. We got the pan-roasted lobster, which was doused with brandy, flambeed, and drowning in butter. Absolutely delightful. Definitely going back.
But we also lounged on our couch or futon or bed and talked about writing and books and did some actual writing together, which was cozy and lovely and just what we needed before we got back to the real world and toddler demands. A writer’s retreat was exactly what we needed.
If you’re a writer or artist, retreats and residencies are a fun way to rekindle that creative spark—and maybe sneak in a bit of local exploration, too. One of my annual writer’s retreats is at the Highlights Foundation, which has writers workshops and retreats nestled in the woods at Boyd’s Mills, near Honesdale, PA. But I’ve also set up DIY beach-side retreats with friends down the shore in Asbury Park and Sea Bright. Fab and fun in the summer, of course, but the winter beach is an idyllic place to bunker down with some cocoa and get some words in.
What’s your favorite place to retreat?
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