Continental Breakfast

by Josey Miller

I have a summer health disorder: I believe the technical term is shpilkes in my geneckteckessoint.  If I don’t do something “summery” every weekend (or at least every other), I feel like I’m “wasting” the summer. 

So last Sunday, I dragged Jeff on a one-hour train ride from New York City to Rowayton, Connecticut–despite the sticker shock of a $39 fee for two round-trip tickets on Metro North.  (I told him we’d just have to have $39 worth of fun.  He glared at me endearingly–if there’s such thing as an endearing glare–and went back to his business school homework.)

That morning, while surfing the Internet over coffee, I found Rowayton listed as a fun spot for renting bikes or kayaks.  Given my midwestern roots, I’m a sucker for quaint villages with a New England feel with white picket fences and porches–especially ones that sit right on the water.  And we had the chance to see a lot of this one during our surprise 20-minute walk from the train station to town.  (Parents take heed: The sidewalks are few and far between.) 

We didn’t notice a bike rental place when we arrived, but I’m not sure where we would have biked anyway since Rowayton is so small.  In fact, there are so few shops and restaurants I could easily count them on one hand.  But we picked up a chicken sandwich and a Greek salad at  Rowayton Pizza, and that worked out fine.  In fact, the reasonable price of our lunch — under $20, including a Gatorade and a Snapple – was a refreshing contrast to those train tickets.  We walked down to the marina and ate on a pier while we watched the boats go by.

Next we found Downunder Kayaking.  Although we didn’t make reservations (which you should), we were fortunate enough to land a bright green Malibu Two ($45) so we could kayak together. It was a bit draining given the 81-degree temps and the occasional boat wake, but it was still incredibly relaxing.  We kayaked from the Five Mile River (isn’t it really an inlet?) out to the open water of the Long Island Sound, and it was fun to fantasize about what it would be like to live in the cliffside mansions.  But the best part was discovering the stagnant water near Butlers Island Road; it felt like we’d been transported to a Lousiana bayou.

After an hour and a half we’d had our fill.  We returned our kayak and walked back to the train station in time to catch the 5:45 — and we were home in time to grab take-out from our favorite Greenwich Village Chinese restaurant.