After crossing the bridge in Fall River and zipping thru Swansea (Next time you're in the vicinity, check out The Ice Cream Barn, which has some of the best ice cream I've ever tasted in my entire life. All the milk is local, by way of the cows on the farm behind The Barn, and the owners, Brown alum I believe, who try their darnedest to use organic ingredients whenever possible. They told me as much last time I was there.), we found ourselves in Tiverton. On the windiest and coldest April day since that freak snowstorm on April Fool's day all those years ago (Google it.). With plenty of hail to boot. (Speaking of which, hope you don't pack away all your boots just yet.)
So, there we were freezing our asses off, then we spotted it - Coastal Roasters. A funky little coffee shop/beacon on Main Street, that overlooks the water and where (if you're at all paying attention to the ginormous sign marking the front of the building) they hand roast their coffee beans daily. Maybe that's the reason why, when we initially tried to make it inside to grab a latte and a cappuccino, we were greeted with a pretty long line of coffee lovers. WTH?!? I mean, what exactly was going on here? From what I could see, it was strictly a to-go type situation (Little...Remember? There was one lady sitting at a tiny table in the midst of all the coffee madness, but she didn't look like she wanted any company.). It was also past peak brunch/lunch time. And it definitely wasn't one of those balmy spring (Sun)days that gives everyone cabin fever, making them want to bolt out of the house, usually in short sleeves and shorts. No matter. The people kept coming. By car and on foot. This place was like the rock star of coffeehouses.
Figuring we'd leave and come back once the madness subsided, we drove off in search of other popular places in the vicinity. What we found, in a word, was a moose. Or several. First, there was the moose, sculpted out of scrap metal and what looked like an old, rusty oil drum, on someone's front lawn. (See photo above.) Then, there was The Moose Cafe, over on Stafford, which is apparently known for its ice cream. After deciding it was too damn cold for any ice cream, we backtracked to the Black Goose (rhymes with Moose) on Main, to wait it out with juice and mimosas, a super close second to that first cuppa coffee on a Sunday.
An hour had passed and we figured by then that we could go back to Coastal Roasters and get a java jolt no sweat. Well, guess what? We. Were. Wrong. Back to CR and back to another line with more caffeine fiends. A whole new bunch. Good news is we finally scored some hot coffee (Verdict: very good!) and we were able to ask a few peeps on line about the local significance of the moose - "Soooo, do you guys get moose around here or what?" Bad news is that no one could give us the 411 on the moose (Anyone, Anyone? What's the deal???) and we got caught in yet another hail storm on the way home. Time to white knuckle it back toward PVD. At least we had coffee though.
Ciao for Now,
Photo Credits: All photos courtesy of me, except for thumbnail of coffee cup, procured via Getty Images for Square Space