In New Hampshire, we have Hamptons of our own

June 9, 9:09 PMNew Hampshire Coastal Travel ExaminerAmy Kane

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In summer the elite of New York escape the heat of the city for the seaside Hamptons at the eastern tip of Long Island. But in humble New Hampshire (where we don't like to make a fuss) we have some Hamptons of our own… North Hampton, South Hampton, Hampton Falls and, of course, Hampton Beach.

Here’s a “music video” from the Emmy-award-winning New Hampshire Chronicle, filmed a couple of summers ago, featuring New Hampshire’s widest beach and, just across the street, an emporium of pizza, fried dough, arcade games and inexpensive lodging.

The song is “Hamptons of Our Own,” written and performed by Craig Greenman, who also happens to be an assistant professor of philosophy at Colby-Sawyer College.

"Here in New Hampshire when the summer finally comes, we done got ourselves a beach. And all you need to do is bring a buck or two – a good time is easily in reach."

I live in North Hampton, about ten minutes from Hampton Beach. The video captures what it’s like in the heart of summer: a little crazy under a blazing sun, and crowded with people of all ages hell-bent on fun by the sea. Summers are short, after all.

But beware, our Gulf of Maine water temps may give you popsicle toes.

I grew up near Philadelphia and worked summers on the boardwalk at the Jersey Shore. My younger daughter is carrying on the family tradition, working this summer in a Hampton Beach arcade. Picture her behind the counter at “redemption,” where tickets won from skeeball and other, newer games are turned into prizes like pirate rings and licorice sticks. She smiles at the children, and uses her walkie-talkie now and then to pass along a vital piece of information: “Game attendant to the Whack-a-Gator on the lower level, please.”

Hampton was settled in 1638 and chugged along for years as a typical small New England town, busy minding its own business. But in 1897, the town and its beach were connected via a network of New England trolley routes to the mill towns of Massachusetts. Thousands of visitors could travel east to enjoy a fine day or two by the sea.

The trolleys are long gone, but the connections remain.

In the 1950’s, my husband’s mom and dad - who were children of mill-workers - took an annual drive from Worcester, Massachusetts to a rented cottage in Hampton Beach for a week each summer. My husband’s older sisters have fond memories of roaming the sands and “the strip” of vendors. They remember putting pennies in the automated fortuneteller – a beautiful lady mannequin wearing a purple scarf, sitting safe inside her wooden box - to get a slip of paper that would forecast their lives and their loves.

She’s still there, in her purple scarf; she’s still the same.

Hampton Beach has a working-class vibe, still. Some call it honky-tonk, but I prefer retro. My advice: abandon your pretenses, lose that Long Island attitude, and go have some fun at New Hampshire’s most famous beach. Summer doesn't last forever.

"Here in New Hampshire when the weekend finally comes, we done got ourselves a place, that’s got some fireworks and several other perks. It’s a fascinating use of public space."

More info: HamptonBeach.org