As the summer season is hitting feverish temperatures, we catch up with our contributors to find out where they’re hiding out. In our first installment, contributors Michael Cunningham, Andrew Durbin, Georgia Hilmer and Charles Renfro reveal their whereabouts. Click through the gallery above for a full slideshow.
I spend my summers at the tip of Cape Cod, which is not only beautiful but has managed, somehow, to slip out of the time-space continuum.
I’m in London a few times this summer. Circulating the museums recently, I stumbled into this anti-austerity and Tory protest from Trafalgar Square to the Houses of Parliament. It was an overcast, brisk day, the kind England is known for, and the streets were filled with people from around the country marching against David Cameron’s cuts to the NHS and other public services. We were in the middle of the Eurozone crisis, the Grexit felt (and still feels at the time of this writing) imminent. Afterwards, I went to Tate Britain, where the buses that brought the protesters in from the north sat empty along the Thames.
My grandparents bought a house in Jamestown, Rhode Island in the 1940s. Ever since, the entire motley crew of my extended family has been spending summers there. As I’ve gotten busier with work and school I’ve had fewer opportunities to visit so now trips there feel even more precious, weighted with decades of tradition and nostalgia. My favorite places are the beach, where I did my first flip off the dock, and the cliffs and rocks out at Beavertail, the tip of the island that faces the Atlantic. Together with loads of cousins I’ve gotten my worst sunburns and baked my best pies and lit the most sparklers in Jamestown, nowhere is as special to me.
Fire Island Pines: One giant boardwalk meanders through lush forests of pines and hollies, joining all houses and residents together. Magic.