The eve of departure: Margs and I are frantically trying to do the impossible and pack all our goodies in the most uncomfortable backpacks of the known world. If only I were Maddy Poppins. Another trip to the post office is in order.
The last Boston days have been busy. Thursday I went to see the Broadway production of Dream Girls, oh-my wonderful, and the theatre, built in 1906, was gorgeously turned out in red-patterned wallpaper and gold fixtures. With the theme music whirring around my head I skipped back to our hostel (YWCA not YMCA as I stated in my earlier blog – though, either way, it’s full of old people) where I met up with Margs, who had been on a Eurail mission, and we went to a FREE jazz concert at the New England Conservatorium.
Matt Sheens, a family friend whom I haven’t seen since Deep Creek camping days – thousands of years ago - was playing and invited us along. Truly excellent music; Margs and I were most impressed and wish for more free things of such high standards.
We organised to meet up with Matt and his friend Lauren, another visiting Adelaideian, Friday morning for a walking tour of Boston. The sky was conveniently blue with nary a cloud in sight. Tour guide Matt took us to the Rundle Mall and Alexander Ave of Boston and then the Adelaide comparisons ended. We met some squirrel pals at Boston Common – squirrels, it turns out, are quite dumb and if they think you might have bread in your rolled up mitt, they will come to inspect. After How to Talk to Squirrels 101, we went and viewed The Most Important Building in Boston, which had a spectacular golden roof I wish sat on the residence of 11 Cooper Place; I can’t for the life of anyone remember what this building's importance was.
We then visited Beacon Hill, home to wealthy Bostonites and the first of the graveyards – Boston has quite a few – where, if the sign is to be believed, Mother Goose of nursery rhyme fame is buried. MG, Mrs Vangoose, and family are all buried here and her grand-son-in-law, a newspaper owner, published the Mother Goose nursery rhymes. All this we did before lunch.
Boston has a large Irish quarter, so we headed that way and stopped at the Best Irish Pub in Boston where I finally tried a Rueben sandwich; don’t actually think this is Irish but has been recommended numerous times on trip and now I can recommend it too - was mmmm-delicious. Then, and of course there’s a then, we followed the Freedom Trail (a red-brick path through downtown Boston that leads the walker to sixteen significant historical sites) to Mike’s – an Italian patisserie in the Italian quarter (not a significant historical site, but it should be).
Margs and I had actually stumbled across this place a few nights ago, not realising it was famous. Matt, Laruen and I opted for their specialty, the ricotta cannoli Florentine, and Margs choose the peanut chocolate cookie. Then another graveyard visit; This site, with its sea views, was reorganised in the 1830s by the cemetery committee who declared that all tombstones be arranged in neat rows – so Here Lies the body of the beloved Nathanial Potter is a big fat lie.
After some discussions on tombstone robbery and the difficulties of moving that slab of stone past customs we walked along the sea, back up to Beacon Hill for tea, and then our truly excellent day was all over.
Tomorrow we fly to Malaga (first a pit stop in Frankfurt). Then the following day you’ll find us partying in Barcelona – if only you could be there with us.
Only eight days till the joint-adventure ends, then it’s solo travel time.
Much love, Mad x
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