Wide, dune-bordered and breezy, the beaches at Duck, part of North Carolina’s Outer Banks, proved to be just what we needed —even if we hadn’t planned to be there. Every day we walked with our toes in the ocean, keeping rhythm with the breaking waves. We collected shells, built sandcastles, flew kites and jumped through the swells with the grandkids. Plus, we discovered the best doughnuts we’ve ever eaten. Sweet carbs and the solace of the sea lifted our disappointment as we rediscovered Duck, a special beach town.
We came to the Outer Banks on the rebound. Two days before our departure for a multifamily trip to Barbados, my son, Kyle, came down with COVID-19. Fortunately, it was a mild case. My daughter, Ann, and her husband, Michael, not wanting to disappoint their kids or fritter away vacation days in the city, found an Airbnb rental. We packed the car and drove the 275 miles from Washington, D.C., to Duck.
