Counting the two-hour ferry ride, the construction detour on Highway 70 and the traffic jam on I-85, yesterday’s return trip from Ocracoke clocked in at exactly 11 hours, about one hour longer than it should have. Acadia slept most of the way. She’s a good girl.
I suppose there’s a chance that I’ll visit the Outer Banks again, one can’t know for sure, but sandy beaches, even deserted sandy beaches stretching for miles and miles ‘neath overcast skies, just don’t call to me in the same way that rocky coastlines do. Yes, I’m pitting Ocracoke Village against Bar Harbor and Ocracoke Coffee Company against the Opera House Cafe, Yes, I’m pitting Pony Pen Beach against Otter Point. I’m not being fair. I know. But I am being honest.