Montauk — or “The End,” as the people who love it call it — is more than just a summer destination for my family. It's a ritual. A pause. A deep breath before life speeds up again.
Every summer, as August begins slipping away and the reality of school schedules, packed lunches, sports practices, and nonstop calendars creep closer, I find myself drawn east. All the way east. To the edge of Long Island, where the roads narrow, the air smells like salt, and the ocean seems to slow everything down around it.
We are beach people at heart, and Montauk gives us permission to simply be. There is never pressure to build the perfect itinerary or rush from one activity to the next. Of course, if you want adventure, it is there — fishing excursions, a visit to Montauk Point Lighthouse, bike rides by the dunes, hidden beaches and little seafood shacks where each lobster roll is better than the next. But the real magic of Montauk is that you didn’t need any of it. The real gift is in doing less.
During COVID, when traveling was restricted and “local” became our only option, we ended up there almost by accident as we had to cancel our big summer plans that required planes and trains. But that trip changed me. Somewhere between the slow ripple of the waves, sandy towels piled in the backseat, and quiet mornings with coffee before the kids woke up, I realized that the best trips are not always the overplanned ones. Sometimes the most meaningful travel is simply space — space to reconnect with the people you love and with yourself.
As a working mom juggling four kids and the constant motion of everyday life, I used to think every vacation had to be productive, exciting, memorable in big ways. Montauk taught me otherwise. It reminded me that there is a season for every kind of travel, and right now, my season is this. And boy do I love it.
Now, when we drive toward “The End,” the car packed to the brim, it feels like I am able to exhale and I'm reminded that slowing down is not wasted time — it’s necessary. It’s healing. And for me, travel has become less about escape and more about reset: a quiet recalibration before stepping back into the beautifully messy and wonderful chaos of life.
