Boston, A New Perspective

Boston and Washington, DC are both about 3 and a half hours driving distance from Manhattan. Both have therefore become the easy getaway whenever there is a long weekend or when an out-of-town guest comes to visit. I'd already had my Washington DC overload a few years ago when I'd drive south almost every other month. Similarly, with a friend half-based in Boston, the New England city has become as familiar to me lately as the back of my hand.

So when Dennis was making plans for his NYC visit for the Holy Week and asked where else we could spend a few days, my choices for him were the usual: Washington DC or Boston. He asked me which of the two was more fun and definitely, Boston. And so against all the superstitions we grew up with about traveling on Good Friday, we headed early in the day north of the I-95 and was in New England a little after lunch.

Dennis is fun to be with. H is not that kind of travel companion who is gungho about everything. He took on the role of the Boston tourist and suddenly, I was seeing the city in a different perspective.

He was ready for the city hike that he has associated with me by aearing more sensible shoes than he usually would. We checked into our lovely hotel along the Historic Trail, dropped our packpacks and then headed off to enjoy the city through our camera lens. He pretty much left to pick out our itinerary but he efficiently became my living compass (since pretty much like my gay-dar, my internal compass is also a bit screwed up). Off we trekked off to nearby Faneuil Hall where I had my favorite lobster roll which I have been craving for since we have decided on the Boston trip. Since he has allergies to anything shellfish, Dennis picked out a salmon kebob that was just heavenly.

From there we walked around, literally following the red line on the sidewalk to cover as much of the old town as possible, snapping away photographs of cemeteries, churches, state houses and buildings with breathtaking architecture.

Boston is the oldest city in the United States. It has such rich history which I have put together in my previous trips and transfering the information to a friend, I was fascinated about how much I knew about the largest city of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. Dennis, of course knew how to twist the situation to make it even more interesting. Remembering fairly well how much of a fraidy cat I am, he highlights the fact that we were staying in the oldest hotel in the United States. Though it is currently going through renovations, the fact that it sits across an old church and the first cemetery in the city, he spins a story that through some wars, the hotel might have become a temporary hospital to house the wounded. Thus, he notes, that there might have been many people have died within its walls. And then drew up images of ghosts running down the hotel corridors at night... I rolled my eyes but of course was freaked out.

By the time night time have set, we had pretty much walked around and photographed many of Boston's must-sees. We of course needed to experience the true character of Boston and nothing fulfills that more than sitting in one of the many Irish bars that dot the city. We did some bar hopping before heading back to the hotel to call it a day.

In previous trips as we drove along the river and across to get to Cambridge where my friend has a house, I have always wanted to stop and snap away pictures of college crews rowing down Charles River. I was charmed by the beauty of canoes, kayaks, boats and sculls that were its usual attractions. So now braving the early morning chill, I sneaked out, jumped into a cab and found myself standing on the esplanade and staring at an empty waterway. What the heck???

The winds, which had been relentless since the day was the only companion I had on the Charles River shores. And some brave joggers who must have been wondering what I was doing there with my camera, as was I. I still took more pictures of the view - the Alewife-bound T ripped through the silence and rolled across the Longfellow Bridge. The MIT towered in the northwest and some ducks paddled through the icy waters aong the shore.

On our way back to New York while we exchanged cameras and viewed each others pictures, we looked toward the direction of the Charles River and saw it once more dotted with college crews rowing kayaks and sculls in practice. I rolled my eyes and Dennis laughed. Apparently, I was brave enough to go out in the cold to go to the river but the college boys waited for the sun to at least lift the mercury a bit.

Still, I enjoyed Boston like I have never before. And saw it in another perspective.

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