I didn’t really want to leave. I had felt like this before. In New York of course, but I had stayed longer there, and in San Francisco and New Orleans two years ago. Cities I felt ashamed I had not booked more nights in. Cities that deserved more of my time.
There was much consternation about what to do this day, there was so much left undone. It was, however a beautiful day, warm in fact.
We walked the familiar walk across the bridges into the city, but this time we headed due north.
Kids were hungry so we headed for the main shopping district and had Mcdonalds. Disappointing after all the chowder and delectable food I had consumed in Quincy market.
From there we just wandered. Past the monument to the Irish immigrants escaping the potato famine, responsible for most of what Boston is today. Past the Old State house, and up to the cemetery to end all cemeteries.
COuld a resting place anywhere else in the world ever see so much action ?. It was crowded. Groups of people on tours squeezed their massive numbers like liquid going into a bottle as they negotiated the narrow paths between the graves.
Costumed tour guides spruiked and entertained as they had their groups transfixed on the stories of Revere, Hancock, Adams and co.
We had to go right when the large groups went left. There simply wasn’t enough room for all of us.
People sat in the Irish pub across the road and sipped Samuel Adams, as they watched Samuel Adams laying peacefully in his 250 year old grave.
The crowds had come to pay respects to a collection of colonial men, who collectively planned, executed and orchestrated the war of Independence against the British.
Over the years their stature had grown, as folklore and popular culture had elevated them to American royalty.
A man stood at the gates handing the tourists his hand prepared dossier on all the grave sites. I was so grateful to him for preparing it. We slipped a dollar bill into the front cover as we handed it to him on the way out.
Ironically, a small cottontail rabbit had become the highlight of the grave tour for the kids. The sense of history and significance had passed them by in the form of a cute little thing.
From there we ,made our way across Boston common, over to the Botanical gardens and along a tree lined Boulevard, Commonwealth avenue towards the Copley square area.
Copley square this day was a bustling hub, an Organic food market ringed the grassed plaza in front of The Trinity church. By now we were really hot, and had sore feet from walking, so we opted for a subway ride back to Quincy for lunch ( the lure was too great).
The subway is the oldest underground railway in America and pre-dates the NYC subway by several years. It was clean and efficient, and cheap to ride. I was taken with the fact that when we got off at Government station, there was no platform, and we alighted right alongside the tracks. I’d never seen this before.
Quincy market was more abuzz and ablaze than ever before. The combination of a super warm day, and a weekend culminated to make it the most happening vibe around.
There was a large crowd buzzing around a particular street performer. We made out way over to watch him. Within a minute we recognised his accent. A compatriot !, and Busking to Boston’s finest. He was fabulous, very funny, and very Australian !.
He amused the Quincy market crowd and the kids and Justin went and said hello to him after the show. He was from Sydney. SO funny to see our humour exported so far.
‘We had another Chowder, bought Antonia the Harvard jacket she so desperately wanted and headed down to the Wharf.
We jumped on a commuter ferry for a round trip to Quincy ( the suburb).
It was a fabulous day to be on the Harbour. Minutes into the trip, as we sat on the top deck, and I could see gorgeous headlands, and a large open harbour dotted with islands, I felt like I was home. This was the closest resemblance to Sydney harbour I had ever seen !.
It was magnificent, and like Sydneysiders, Bostonians commuted to work via these ferries to their harbour-side homes.
It was a great way to see the wider Boston area. We were even treated to a close up and personal of a WW2 frigate as we docked in the Quincy docks.
So we watched the sunset over the beautiful city of Boston, and after a quick stop at Logan airport; (tip for travellers,Logan international has a ferry terminal one stop from the city !), and we headed back into town.
We were able to get some tickets on the Ghosts and Gravestones tour for that night, but as the baby of the family was too little to ride, her and I had an indulgent night in the hotel whilst the other 5 enjoyed it.
So I have only photos to tell that story, but from all accounts it was hilarious and much fun. A must do for your Boston stay.
