Block Island pt. 1// an introduction


Block Island

Block Island

Block Island

Block Island


I have a million different thoughts and ideas and memories all trying to clamber out of my head and into this post right now, so I figured I'd take it a little slow and start off with an introductory post of sorts, with a couple of more personally sort of pictures that probably wouldn't really fit into any other post. So, here goes.

A couple of quick notes on Block Island, because it isn't exactly a prime vacation destination like the Vineyard, and therefore may not be as well known to people. It's about 10 square miles, located off the coast of the state of Rhode Island, and has a year round population of 1000 or so. It's very rural, with 40 percent of land being set aside for conservation, and is what my parents called "quiet money." This means that, while a lot of the people on the island are wealthy, it isn't as showy or glamourous as most of the other summer hot spots in the Northeast {Nantucket, I'm looking at you}. Instead, picture a landscape of shingled homes with front porches, dirt roads lined with stone walls and honeysuckle bushes, and moor like rolling hills. Most people zip along the island in mopeds or bicycles {or sometimes even horses!} and, in five days, I only saw one "no trespassing sign." It's what I imagine all of New England was like 100 years ago.

Last Saturday night, I packed up all my things, got in the car, and, driving along to the beautiful sounds of Mr. George Ezra, managed to not only survive the highways of Providence, but arrive at Port Judith, RI without getting lost {and early!}. Once the anxiety inducing project of getting a car + bike rack backed onto a ferry was completed, I found myself on a ferry to Block Island, headed towards five days of relaxation and freedom.

I don't know if I'm the only one who feels this way, but I love, love love love, the feeling of being on the road, of the limbo that comes when traveling. I'm not a huge fan of driving, but put me on a train, a boat, a's never tedious to me, ever. Even when I lived in the city and was riding the T frequently, it never got old. I just love the feeling of going somewhere, of being on the road with a suitcase and my camera, sketchbook and new books to read tucked away in my backpack. There's no feeling quite like it-especially when you're alone, just you and your thoughts, and whatever there is to see outside of the window. Sitting on the top deck of the ferry, I gazed out into the horizon {how romantic of me}, watching the state of Rhode Island grow smaller and smaller.

One short hour later, I found myself driving off the boat and through the downtown to where my family had rented a home for the week. My first night there was also, coincidentally, the longest day of the year-and so, after a dinner of fresh cod, risotto, and veggies bought from a farmstand downtown, my brother and I got on our bikes to explore. Slowly pedaling down empty roads, the smell of fragrant honeysuckle permeating the air, as the sun started its descent? I couldn't think of anything more perfect.

{part two coming soon!}

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