All of our doctors agreed that by driving to the beach house, which had touchless check-in, and aiming to stay there for the week with minimal trips into town, we were taking a fairly safe, low-risk trip. Because my family is all clustered in Northern Virginia and own their cars, they were only crossing one state border.

The biggest logistical question was how I could get there from New York. A friend who had just tested negative for a live COVID-19 test and was in my quarantine bubble ended up driving me to my mother's house, and from there I rode to the beach with my mom. The drive from New York to Virginia goes through four states, including New Jersey, Delaware, Pennsylvania, and Marylandand we did not plan a single stop, rather pulling over as we needed to eat or use the restroom, and sussing it out from there. It's hard to emphasize how consistently safe the rest stops felt across all states, from New York to North Carolina. Masks were required, social distancing was being practiced, and sanitation appeared high.

Lastly, we plotted out all of our meals for the duration of the trip in a shared spreadsheet, well in advance, with different adults assigned to various meals. This allowed us to do as much advanced shopping as possible, and bring in a majority of our groceries. In the end, only a few stray stops into town for fresh ingredients, like seafood, were needed.

We brought all of our own beach chairs, umbrellas, and boogie boards, mainly because we already had the gear we needed for a week of beach days. Our days were loosely structured around meals, with a group breakfast starting at 8 a.m. (though some slept in), hitting the beach around 10:30 a.m., and lunch on the sand, preferably with a Modelo in hand. In the evenings, cocktail hour and a group dinner were always on the agenda.

On the beach, we collected seashells, swam, read, and someone was always napping in the sun. After coming from such a densely populated city like New York, where there's no choice but to wear masks wherever you go, it was such a relief to be on a wide, open beach where the next stranger was at least 50 yards away. We had read up on bubbling for a trip like this, and all our prep work made it possible to hang up our masks while at our homebase, and hug constantly. We pretty much kept to the house, but when we did venture into town, it was masks on, six feet away from other people, and hand sanitizer at the ready. But another thing that came as a surprise, after my months in a crowded city? At the local Food Lion, the parking lot was so large you couldn't get near anyone else. Ditto inside the actual store, which was so massive, I only got within feet of another person at check-out.

One of the reasons I'm so in favor of the beach house trip is that once you've arrived, the rest is easy. Despite being so simple, this trip was especially poignant: I'd been quarantining in my Brooklyn studio since March; they'd been doing the same in their respective homes (with children, no less). Six weeks before the plan came together, we weren't even sure when we'd be together again. But here I was, building Legos with my niece and nephew; cuddling up for a movie the one day it rained; screaming as we jumped over large, salty ocean waves together. Every night, as we sat down to dinner and toasted over crab cakes and steaks fresh off the grill, the ocean right behind us, it made every bit of preparation worth it.

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How We Planned a Multigenerational Beach Trip to Emerald Isle, N.C. - Cond Nast Traveler