Day 5: Let There Be Light(house)

Another morning, another three-mile run. This time, I was met down the road by a school bus, a reminder that people actually live here. Year round. Unbelievable.

Today was a sightseeing day, so we took off in the morning and headed for the Bodie Island lighthouse. By the way, “Bodie” is pronounced like “body”. The North Carolina coast is treacherous for mariners, so lighthouses dot the shores from Currituck down to Cape Fear. Although the lighthouse is closed to the public, we got to walk around the grounds and take a few pictures. Something about lighthouses makes them photograph so well, I don’t know what it is.

We left Bodie Island and headed over to Roanoke Island Festival Park in Manteo, but not before we had lunch at the Weeping Radish, a faux German brewpub. I opted for the bratwurst on a pretzel roll with a glass of doppelbock. How German is that, huh? After Ally played in the playground for a little bit, we went to Festival Park. The first order of business was the Adventure Museum, which is pretty hands-on and therefore good for kids. Although Ally likes playing dress-up at home, the 16th century clothing available to wear didn’t interest her. She did like spinning the ship’s wheel and hunting for ducks, though. Next up was the Elizabeth II, a composite design of a 16th century sailing ship which was manned by costumed guides who described the various aspects of sailing and maintaining the ship. We thought we’d have a pretty casual time aboard the Elizabeth II, but we were greeted by a school group, so we got stuck doing what they did, the ship not being very big at all. After a quick visit to the settlement site, it was time for Ally’s nap.

Later that afternoon, Ally had her first dip in the pool. The kiddy pool, that is. She much prefers pool water over ocean water. Of course, it was nearly impossible to get her out. Wrinkly fingertips don’t seem to be incentive enough. They offer swimming lessons over the summer at our pool back home. Maybe this is the year she takes the plunge, literally.

For dinner, I ran out and brought back some barbecue from a place called High Cotton, which was nearby. It was only so-so. On their menu, they claim that “High Cotton messes with Texas”. Not quite. In fact, Texas doesn’t even know High Cotton exists, let alone that it’s being messed with.