I was asked to participate in an art show recently that is hosted in the Hamptons on Labor Day weekend.  I declined but decided the least I could do was attend the show to see if I would be interested in paricipating in the future. Directions to the Art Show placed it in a place called Amagansett, but there was not a specific address listed: just a little red star on the map to guide us in the right direction.  When we arrived at the train station in Amagansett, I felt like I had just been dropped off at a forest back in home in Texas.  The Hamptons are a bit different than Manhattan, it is more secluded, so there are no cabs waiting for you or a bus to get you around town for that matter. Upon looking around I thought to myself, "Perhaps I should have rented a car."  Oh well. There were two options for directions: right or left.  Chocolate or vanilla.  Eeny...mini...miny... mo....

We went left, which happened to be the wrong way. Luckily the Grocery Store was full of some nice people and they turned us around in the right direction. Although, as a minority, I could not help but notice as we passed the local laundry mat that the only people inside were of Latin descent. Of which I joked, "I bet the only Latin people in this town are the Hired Help."  lol  So off we went, past the cute red and white fire station, the organic farmers market, and into the small town of Amagansett. The buildings in the town are painted white with black trim. The area is quaint, very crispy, clean and starched like Martha Stewart land with alot of trees. You can immediately smell sea breeze mixed with the scent of Republicans in the air and the people in the town are not very friendly. Let's be honest, this is where New Yorkers take summer vacations and although you can take the workaholic out of the city, you cannot necessarily take it out of the person. We kept walking and finally came to Indian Wells Hwy, where the art show was supposed to be. I looked around for a gallery but instead there was a large grassy field with a big wooden sign that read, "Antique Festival."  A little baffled, I called the local Chamber of Commerce and the lady on the line was clueless.  In my hands were directions to an Art Show... but there was no art show. Apparently we discovered later that it had been canceled but no one bothered to change the information on the website or email me. Lovely.

But why let a beautiful day go to waste because of a change in plans? We doted on the map for a moment and realized that Indian Wells Highway led straight to the beach. F-a-b-u-l-o-u-s. :)  Just give me sand, surf and sunshine and I am as happy as a butterfly in a field of daisies. Off we went to Indian Wells Beach, passing the manicured lawns, Weeping Willows in need of water and super sized, over priced houses. The area is nice and I could understand the appeal for celebrity seclusion but when you are from Texas, the houses in River Oaks, West U and Highland Park give the Hamptons a competitive run for their money. Not to mention value per dollar. 

However, when we arrived at the beach, I found it quite impressive. The beach itself is very clean, and most of the people are sun bathing so the water is a liberating, wide open space, ripe for swimming. Looking around, it was quite apparent to us that I was the tannest person on the sand. Which is a little odd because NYC is mixed culturally and the beaches reflect diversity not only in NY but in Texas. Even at the private southern estates and private beaches you will find every culture represented, but not here. Oh well. Good thing my father has blonde hair and blue eyes or I might find myself a bit reluctant to swim due to the "One of these things is not like the other," scenery.

We found a place to lay our belongings and went straight to the visit the sea. She was quite tempermental that day and the force of her waves upon the shore were not to be taken lightly. If we could get past the crashing break, we could have a nice swim...so we did and spent hours playing around in the water. It was quite romantic to have so much ocean to ourselves.  The fun part came when trying to get back to shore, it was all a matter of timing and the hard part about capturing a sea shell was that the sea tried to steal our bottoms a few times in the process. Duck diving in the ocean is always entertaining unto itself because the laughter alone can almost cause you to drown. We had a great time playing in the sea.

On our way back into town, we found a cozy little bookstore with a fat, orange and white tabby waiting to greet us....and a really unique freestanding sculpture of a wooden horse. All in all we had a lovely weekend, perhaps we will come again next year....it is amazing how lifes little bloopers can lead you to unexpected places.