My own Boston Tea Party

Today was my last day in Boston before I head home to Kris, the doggen, work, and coaching. My last day of being a Bostonian tourist. I had a number of items left on my list to da, which included seeing Faneuial Hall, parts of the Freedom Trail, the general downtown architecture, and the Harbour. I had planned to see at least one of these yesterday, but spent the day in the Museum of Science instead.

Shock! Me? Science?

Not.

George had told me last night that he wasn't going to let me take the train into town today and drag my suitcase and all the other crap I had with me around on my siteseeing adventures. Instead, he would be able to drive me into town for a short tour, being my tourguide.

Whoo!

Because I slept in so late, we ended up on a fantastic whirlwind tour of downtown. George showed me the various styles of brick architecture, different eras and styles in different parts of town, then parked the car under the Boston Commons, in an underground parking structure with the park on top.

California needs to clue into more efficient use of space like this. Way needs to. Take the earthquakes in stride and start building down.

We then walked through the park, found the Freedom Trail, toured a itsy bitsy cemetary, walked past the Fanueial Hall, through the Quincy Market behind it, over the Big Digg to the North End, which ends at the Harbour. I then had my very own Boston Tea Party (with real English tea from George's wife, Ruth). I was laughing so hard I'm not sure any of the photos did the moment justice.

George then led us further along the Freedom Trail, a red line that runs through the city, along many (16?) historic markers and buildings. We went through Little Italy (or the Boston equivalent, if that's not the correct name), and stopped at the North End Church, where Paul Revere put up his two "one if by land, two if by sea" lanterns before racing the ten miles on horse to Lexington.

The most interesting part of the church, other than it's historical reference, was the high walls between the pews. Basically, every pew had a little cubby hole where people could pray and no one else could see you there. Hell, you could have sex during mass and no one would know.

We wandered back along the trail to the Daily Catch for lunch, and then hoofed it back to the car in time for George to drive me to the airport and me to check in my bag in time.

Once again, I had a retarded journey through the security line, with amazingly stupid TSA workers manning the lines. I swear, I need to get a job at one of these places, just so that I can start yelling at my fellow employees, "STOP BEING MORONS!"

But that's the subject of another post. For now, my Boston adventure is over. George, Ruth and Frances are some of the most wonderful hosts I've ever had (and wonderful people I've ever met). Unfortunately, they introduced me to the most amazing hot fudge sauce. I may have to order them more as a bigger thank you note for hosting me for my first Boston adventure...