The Mill House Inn Media & Press Kit 2011
crowds and worrying about being blown up in the sky. I also nixed an expensive and tiring paltry few days in the crowded Caribbean. Instead of going South for a long weekend, I dragged a friend out East. It was so low maintenance – pack up our garment bags, toss them in his BMW and go – that I started to think Id been an idiot to visit the Hamptons only in the summer. “Could it be done?” I wondered as we drove eastward, unfettered even by the usual heavy Hamptons summer traffic. “Might we actually have a successful winter getaway without leaving Long Island?”
Newsday Travel Section Cover Story Sunday January 9, 2000 THINK HAMPTONS for the WINTER” BY Beth Whitehead
Our four-night jaunt turned into a vacation of fabulous moments. Moments like the one at Babette’s, when we felt utterly relaxed and warm. Moments like the one at the end of a drive down Dune Road in Westhampton, when we got out of the car and walked on the beach at Cupsogue County Park.
There I was, settled under the fronds of a palm tree, sipping a pineapple-coconut-banana smoothie from a straw, the heat of the late morning sun kneading my face. The tropics, you say? I think not. I was at a corner table in Babette’s café in East Hampton, knowing but not caring one bit that soon I would venture back outside into to 30-degree December Day. The glorious early winter sun was breaking-and-entering through the windowpane, the palm was a potted one, and the smoothie ordered from an eclectic breakfast menu that included choices such as a Thai omelet made with grilled shrimp and spicy gingered peanut sauce. I’ve visited Long Island’s East End dozens of times, but this was the first time I packed earmuffs and gloves to go to We’d spent the whole miles-long ride along the barrier isthe Hampton. land’s spine – Dune Road- with our heads mechanically wobbling back and forth as if table fans. “Wow, look at This winter, I crossed off the idea of sparring with airport that: after “Wow, look at that” spewed forth as we passed beach house after opulent, contemporary beach house, struck by the creativity of their builders. Then we arrived at the literal end of the road. We left the car – earmuffs back on, gloves back on – and walked out onto a boardwalk, and it silenced us. Spread ahead were dunes of sand like snowdrifts, wheat-colored dune grass that blew like a woman’s hair in the wind, and an ocean that sparkled in the winter sun. The waves rolled up to the shore as if they had nothing better to do than meander their way toward us. It may have been a cold winter day, but it was still the beach, and, as I held my collar tight against my cheeks, the view reminded me that humanity’s ingenuity is nothing www.millhouseinn.com
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