Annisquam is a village within the city of Gloucester, and you would never guess from the look of it. Its lanes are narrow, its houses are old and close together, and its harbour is a sheltered tidal inlet where sailboats lie at moorings and the shingled homes lean down to the water. The name is Native in origin, and the village has been a place for fishermen and, later, summer residents and artists for centuries.
The Annisquam River runs behind it, a tidal channel that separates Cape Ann from the mainland and is crossed by a handful of bridges, and at its mouth stands the Annisquam Harbor Light, a white lighthouse on a small point, first lit in the early nineteenth century. Across the water lies Wingaersheek Beach, with its enormous boulders and long sandbars, which in low tide turns into a vast, sparkling plain of wet sand. The cape's rock is granite, shaved smooth by glaciers, and it shows up everywhere: in ledges along the shore, in stone walls and in the quarries that once sent paving stones to cities along the coast.
The roads in and out are narrow and slow. Leonard Street, Washington Street and the lanes around the harbour are bordered by stone walls and hedges, with blind bends and no verge to speak of, and the villagers do not appreciate loud engines or speed. It is a place to arrive quietly, park and walk. On the road toward Rockport, the scenery opens out onto marshes and rocky pastures, and the corners are open and enjoyable, but it is a short ride and gets busy at weekends in summer.
Gloucester, four kilometres away, has everything: fuel, food, a working fishing port and a long history that is worth an afternoon. The bronze statue of the man at the wheel, looking out to sea, remembers the thousands of men who were lost on the Grand Banks, and the waterfront has chowder houses and seafood shops. Go in the evening in early summer, when the light turns gold and the tide fills the harbour.