Sep 10, 2010
Wendy and I rented a house in Seaside Park, NJ for the week last week, and it was every bit as great as we hoped. It was 90° and sunny for the first few days, allowing us to lay on the beach all day and relax. Then it was a little rainy and cool for a day, allowing us to see some family and stock up on supplies for the party we threw on Saturday. Hurricane Earl tried to disrupt our fun, but he only succeeded on Thursday afternoon, when the lifeguards told us we couldn't swim because of "dangerous waves" and "riptides." Buncha nancies.
First things first, Seaside Park is a quiet little beach community just south of Seaside Heights, which is where that abomination the Jersey Shore is filmed. While Heights is a party locale with copious Italians and Axe Body Spray, Park is a family place with quiet streets and clean beaches. It's the real, authentic Jersey Shore, and it's dreamily peaceful during the week when the tourists aren't there, which is slightly weird for a tourist to say.
For a variety of reasons (temperature, tides, alien mind-control), there was a slight jellyfish problem. And by problem, I mean we had to wade through a slurry of whole moon jellyfish and pieces every time we got into or out of the water. It's certainly a unique feeling to say the least. Wendy got stung once, but apparently it's pretty rare, since kids were picking them up and throwing them at each other.
The house we rented was actually the bottom half of a larger home, which was fine, but a little weird when we could hear the owners upstairs stomping around like they'd never lived above anyone before. But the fact that it had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a nice outdoor patio and grill made it pretty awesome.
We brought our bikes, and since it was ridiculously flat, we rode around everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean across the street to the beach, back to the house for lunch, back to the beach, and to the ice cream place down the street. Yes, indeed, this is the life.
On our last day there, I participated in a church-sponsored 5K, except that it took place about 80 miles away, so I set up a "satellite location" where I measured out 3.1 miles with a GPS device, then ran it alone and timed myself. It was the ultimate conflict of interest. My time was 24:40, which isn't bad for a white kid, although the only proof that I actually ran was a picture before I left, a picture when I got back, and a smelly t-shirt.
#travel
First things first, Seaside Park is a quiet little beach community just south of Seaside Heights, which is where that abomination the Jersey Shore is filmed. While Heights is a party locale with copious Italians and Axe Body Spray, Park is a family place with quiet streets and clean beaches. It's the real, authentic Jersey Shore, and it's dreamily peaceful during the week when the tourists aren't there, which is slightly weird for a tourist to say.
For a variety of reasons (temperature, tides, alien mind-control), there was a slight jellyfish problem. And by problem, I mean we had to wade through a slurry of whole moon jellyfish and pieces every time we got into or out of the water. It's certainly a unique feeling to say the least. Wendy got stung once, but apparently it's pretty rare, since kids were picking them up and throwing them at each other.
The house we rented was actually the bottom half of a larger home, which was fine, but a little weird when we could hear the owners upstairs stomping around like they'd never lived above anyone before. But the fact that it had two bedrooms, a kitchen, and a nice outdoor patio and grill made it pretty awesome.
We brought our bikes, and since it was ridiculously flat, we rode around everywhere. And by everywhere, I mean across the street to the beach, back to the house for lunch, back to the beach, and to the ice cream place down the street. Yes, indeed, this is the life.
On our last day there, I participated in a church-sponsored 5K, except that it took place about 80 miles away, so I set up a "satellite location" where I measured out 3.1 miles with a GPS device, then ran it alone and timed myself. It was the ultimate conflict of interest. My time was 24:40, which isn't bad for a white kid, although the only proof that I actually ran was a picture before I left, a picture when I got back, and a smelly t-shirt.
#travel