When I was in college, I read a very memorable essay written by a woman called "Provincetown Memoirs" and it was about the homes this woman had lived in her life, and several things stuck out in my mind.
One was her apartment in Paris (while I was there, I tried to look for the place), another is a place on Capri off Italy and the third was Provincetown. Until now, I could only imagine what the place looked like. She wrote of the gay men on the streets and of the man who lived next door and had a lively sex life. She made me want to go visit the place, though I have no idea what it's like, other than what she wrote about it.