“You lost your pants!” Stepping out of the restroom and into the unexpected September sun, I turn to see Radu Luca, the director of Provincetown Chamber of Commerce grinning cheekily at me.
"Oh, yeah, it was way too hot for jeans," I explain, gesturing to the shorts I'd changed into. "Don't worry," he continues, "a lot of people lose their pants in Provincetown."
Located on the tip of Cape Cod (an orientation you'll find on many a souvenir here), Provincetown may be a 90-minute ferry from Boston but feels a universe away.
“When we get on the ferry we joke that we’re heading to the United States,” says Herbert “Herbie” Hintze. The quip has everyone laughing but couldn’t feel more accurate.
Here, for every American flag, three rainbow ones hang from shop windows and villa doors while melodies by ABBA, David Bowie and Queen drift through the air. Along the street, same-sex couples stroll hand in hand, with small, impossibly fluffy dogs in tow. Lamp posts are plastered with posters for drag queen nights and Rocky Horror showings.
In Luca’s more straightforward words: “In Provincetown, we don’t say we’re gay friendly, we say we’re gay.”
And gay it absolutely, fabulously is, in every sense of the word. Thanks to a combination of social and historical factors, the secluded, beachy seaport became a favoured destination among the gay and lesbian community back in the 19th century. Since then, Provincetown’s legacy as an LGBTQ+ haven has continued to thrive, helped along in 2004 when Massachusetts became the first US state to legalise same-sex marriage.
However, before all of this, Provincetown was famous for being the place the Mayflower first landed in 1620. At least, that’s what we’re told by Daniel Gomez Llata, Provincetown’s dedicated town crier. Dressed from head to buckle-shoe-covered toe in historic Pilgrim attire, Llata is the 22nd town crier (an occupation dating back to 1854), and takes the task of welcoming people with his big brass handbell very seriously.
When we arrive at the wharf, it's easy to assume a man dressed in a Pilgrim costume would be the weirdest thing we saw that day. But in P-Town (as the locals call it), it's positively mundane.
To walk down the main Commercial St is to experience a place seemingly designed to the brief “coastal but kinky”. Old shingle fisherman houses are painted candy colours and repurposed into a string of bars and shops selling beachy kitsch and sultry gifts.
After grabbing cash from Seamen’s Bank, one could walk into three adjacent stores and have the chance to buy a knitted tea cosy in one, a cannabis brownie in the other or bedazzled vibrator in the third, if it took their fancy.
“If you have size 15 feet, you’ll find your glittery pumps here,” Llata assures us as we pass a shopfront display filled with shiny satin minidresses, PVC booty shorts, sparkly feather boas and, oddly, a framed picture of the late Queen Elizabeth II. “The original queen,” he said solemnly, before ushering us along.
“You can get into a lot of trouble here,” says Herbie, with what can only be described as a twinkle in his eye. Given the town’s volume of bars, clubs and cannabis dispensaries, we don’t doubt him for a second. Here, even a humble pizzeria can be a place to flirt up a storm.
"When all the bars close around 3am, this is the only place open," Llata says, pointing to Spiritus Pizza. "We say if you don't get lucky in the bars, you'll get lucky here." It's a line that earns a knowing giggle from two elderly women sitting on a bench nearby.
Flirtatious fun aside, the acceptance that has made Provincetown a mecca for the LGBTQ+ community is palpable. “Everyone knows everyone,” says Llata, and it’s a claim that checks out. One can’t walk 10 metres without hearing a “hello honey” or “good morning sweetie” as couples stop to chat, ask about dinner plans or compliment an outfit. It’s an idyllic picture of suburban familiarity that, ironically, one doesn’t really find in the suburbs anymore.
We continue along the street until shops turn to storybook villas nestled between wild hydrangea bushes and emerald walls of ivy. Further still, we would have reached Pilgrims' First Landing Park (you can imagine what happened there) but a lunch reservation at Lobster Pot called. Ten minutes before opening at 11.30am, the restaurant's reputation was evident from the line forming around the front door.
Open from April to November, Lobster Pot has ample indoor seating for colder months but on a blue sky day, it’s the outdoor beachfront tables you’ll want. Owned and run by a local Provincetown family, the seafood eatery has just one menu, but once you see it, you realise one is all you need. Those who struggle when given many options, just close your eyes and blindly point. Or, let the owner, Shaun McNulty, be your guide.
"Now I want you to pay attention, otherwise you're gonna get a D," says the deeply tanned and feisty McNulty a little too sincerely, before charging through the hundreds of dishes at breakneck speed. From oyster Rockefeller to baked Portuguese clams, the seafood guru explained it all before eagerly agreeing to order for us. "Stick with me and you'll never starve," he promised. And starve we did not.
In fact, by the time the final plate was polished off, we were as far from starving as one could be without needing to unbutton our pants. Just. After a few quiet moments digesting the food and the view, it was time for the next iconic Provincetown activity; Art's Dune Tours.
When Art Costa first took people around Provincetown’s sand dunes in 1946, it cost just US$3.50. It’s a little more today (US$65), but the dunes and their beauty still remain. Bouncing and rolling over the sands in a robust 4WD, we soon reach a point where there is nothing but dusty dunes and salty coastlines stretched out in every direction.
Expansive yet secluded, it’s no surprise to hear the area has long attracted artists looking for inspiration or retreat. After locals built then abandoned wooden dune shacks in the early 1900s, it didn’t take long for local poets, writers, painters and the like to temporarily move in to work on their craft.
Still today, creatives can temporarily rent one of 19 remaining shacks and enjoy a moment of serenity before returning to the lively rambunctious people of P-Town.
Checklist
PROVINCETOWN
Getting there:
Hawaiian Airlines flies from Auckland to Boston, via Honolulu, with Economy Class return fares starting from NZ$2118. Flights depart Auckland three times weekly on Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday and connect to 15 US mainland cities.
Details
For more things to see and do, go to ptowntourism.com and visitma.com
