Elizabeth Kilcoyne
3 min readOct 21, 2019


Provincetown, MA

Another Way to Travel

On the boat returning to Provincetown, it feels like going home. Ten minutes after docking, we’re in our apartment and pledging not to leave town again until the end of the month.

In August, Denis answered an ad in the local neighborhood email, looking for a rental for the month of October. He said we’d be interested. A few days later, Denis received a call from the neighbor asking to come and look at the house. Her parents wanted to visit and needed a place to stay. I only heard one side of that conversation as Denis was finessing his way through. He got off the phone and said, “How about renting out our house for October?” After a long pause, I said, “Sounds like an opportunity.” Later that day, I suggested we look for a place in Provincetown. P-Town, as it is commonly referred to, is at the tip of Rosie the Riveter’s arm on Cape Cod.

So here we are, in a cozy apartment behind the “BXCLUSIVE” Fashion Shop, about 100 feet from the main street. We can join in the spirit and noise or enjoy the peace of our hideaway. The apartment was slightly less than we rented our house for, so we joined the Mussel Beach Health Club (real name). I had been to P-Town many times as a child. My family camped at the North Truro Family Campground in the summers, back when P-Town was a thriving fishing port. In the morning, we went to the end of MacMillan Wharf and watched the fishing boats come in. The men packed the fish in ice and loaded them onto trucks. Sometimes they gutted them right on the dock. The local kids dove for coins off the wharf. At ten, I secretly wanted to be a coin diver.

This is different. Denis is working on his Ph.D. in Public Health, and I’m on a writing retreat. We don’t know anyone here, so our time is our own. Unfortunately, I had to go to Boston for a couple of days, which interrupted our flow, but we’re back now; we’re home.

This is beyond my wildest dreams. I walk to the beach in the morning and write in my journal. I frequent the same picnic table. A few days ago, it occurred to me that the sun was demanding equal time with the clouds. It refused to be covered and spent the whole day trying to be seen. It reminded me of the women in my research about the Equal Rights Amendment, refusing to give up when fired for being pregnant, not being supported after a rape or ignored when underpaid. Women have been negotiating the legal maze of human rights for over a century. My goal this month in Provincetown is to write an essay encouraging people that when everyone has equal rights, we will see each other with new eyes.

This evening I saw, I think for the first time, the sunset on the west end of P-Town and the moon rise on the east end. I’m sure it happens all the time, but one needs to be relaxed and looking to see it.

Follow me through the month…

Elizabeth Kilcoyne, Freelance Writer