“Newport has this way of enchanting you and making you fall in love with it.”
We arrived just in time for the coldest winter New England had experienced in over 100 years, although our proximity to the Gulf Stream protected us from some of the more serious snowfalls felt further north. Newport is a summer vacation town, and feels empty in the winter. In fact, Newport is America’s original resort town. When industry was sweeping across the Northeast, Newport decided that it didn’t want factories, it wanted to capitalize on it’s giant natural harbor and stunning beaches and be a recreational playground for the well-off. Downtown Newport is charming, and jam packed with local shops and restaurants. There are no high-rises, no roads with a speed limit over 45. Middletown has a few chain stores like Home Depot, then Portsmouth again has nearly all locally owned businesses. Mixed in are farms serving up fresh local eggs, strawberries, blueberries, pumpkins, cheese-making class, and goat yoga. There are polo fields with matches on the weekends, outdoor movie nights, and nearly every festival imaginable throughout the year. Newport really outdoes itself in the charming department, and we fell for it. I continue to be surprised by how much we like it here, and how many of the things we enjoy are available on the island. After Simon’s first visit, he summed Newport up as being like Auckland and Williamsburg having a baby, and the baby got most of the good features.
The beach, the rocky headlands, all of the varied coastline is stunning. While I waited for my official start date, I explored “the island” (Aquidneck Island – home to Newport, Middletown, and Portsmouth. Aquidneck is the original Rhode Island) with the kiddos. We found seashells, watched waves from winter storms pound the rocks as we huddled in snow suits, and spotted an amazing variety of birds including snowy owls. We learned about beach bounce – the beach rotunda building used for events in summer filled with bounce houses in the winter. We started to make friends. We had one really good dumping of snow and all had an amazing time sledding. We went for a memorable walk in the blizzard on my birthday to see the snow falling on the ocean. Despite what sounded like a brutal situation, we were becoming enchanted with our little island.
The Beach House:
While we had committed to Rhode Island (NUWC had said Lauren would be sent an offer…), we were not certain we would be able to both work there. One thing we have learned is that until a signed piece of paper is in your hand, you don’t really have anything job-wise. To hedge our bets, Lauren had visited Rhode Island twice to interview at the University of Rhode Island and University of Massachusetts Dartmouth.
During one of those whirlwind trips, she took it upon herself to find a winter rental home where we could live until we had sold our home in D.C. and used that money to buy another house in Rhode Island. Seeing as it would surely only take a few weeks to sell our D.C. home (so wrong) we figured we would only need a six-month rental! Lauren found a little gem on Easton’s Point. About 100 meters from the most popular beach in Newport, the beach house on Crest St was the quintessential New England beach home, for better or for worse. Originally built in the 1920’s as a clubhouse, there had been at least two add-ons in the past, possibly converting the garage into another lounge, so that the house was almost two houses linked by a narrow hallway. Two bathrooms, two ‘kitchens’, and three bedrooms. It was small, it was incredibly dirty (four days of cleaning until the asthma and dust issues were under control), but there was a somewhat dry basement capable of swallowing all our stuff and the location couldn’t be beaten. The price was reasonable too, although we did not figure out why the electricity bill was $400 a month until month 4/6 (the baseboard heating in half the house was electric! We had mistakenly thought it was connected to the central heating system..).
Soon the house was filled with the sounds of playing children and people bumping into each other as they cooked a meal and simultaneously stood in the way of the front door. We will cherish our memories of Crest St, even though the doors did not shut and the roof was impossibly low in the guest bedroom that had been converted into a storage closet. We made a point to take the slightly longer route and drive down the beachfront road next to our house every time we came and went. Walks to the beach in all weather, including blizzards, were amazing. We enjoyed a Christmas visit from Peter and Lydia, who flew down from Ottawa. Our dear friends from Alexandria stopped by on their way to visit family in Massachusetts. Auntie Jenn came down a couple of times and visits from the grandparents were always very much appreciated. New friends from Newport came over for shared meals in our tiny kitchen. Too soon (or not soon enough, depending on the mood) it was time to leave – more permanent accommodation had been found in Naval Station Newport housing. More practical and less expensive, Naval station housing was the sensible choice. However, it was far from the beach. Not to worry, because plans were afoot that would make our first attempt at beachside living look amateur by comparison.
We hadn’t found a house near Newport yet, but the more we talked about it the more we were certain we wanted to stay on this island. April came and went, and by the time May arrived we were all ready for spring. Finally it showed up, later than usual but with such a bang. Everything was in bloom, trees and hedges dripping in flowers, green everywhere. Bunnies, chipmunks, squirrels, and a whole new suite of birds. So many different types of flowers. “Our beach” was now flooded with people nearly every time we visited. The snack bar opened, the lifeguards were out, and much to Joey & Blake’s delight Del’s soft lemonade trucks were often on hand to offer up a Rhody classic. The boys had been swimming in the shallows since March with wetsuits (and sometimes their winter coats if I couldn’t stop them in time!), but by June it was warm enough to play in the waves and visit the deeper water. Most of our fellow beach-goers were tourists, who always said “you’re so lucky you get to live here.”
This is part of a series chronicling our decision to leave DC and make a lifestyle move to Newport, RI.