Boston has turned out to be the quiet lull we probably both
needed. If there is any nightlife here – and of course, there would be – we haven’t
seen any of it at all.
So we got the train here the other day, had a late lunch,
then didn’t really do much else to be honest – an early night was a good night.
The following day was a big day.
We hired a car in order to visit Annabel St (not because of
me) and a cemetery in an outlying suburb called Braintree (where do they get
these names from?) to visit the grave of Cathy’s great grandparents and the
house they used to live in. Fought incessantly with the GPS system in the car
(was reminded of the opening line to Robert Lowell’s ‘Sailing Home From Rapallo’
when we found the GPS would only speak Italian) but finally got it to
co-operate once we’d managed to freeform our way out of the CBD. Don’t ask us
how, it’s best left forgotten. It was the first experience for both of us using
GPS and it felt a bit like playing chess with the computer from 2001.
After the stop at the house in Annabel St, Cathy was a bit
thirsty so we walked to the local KFC so she could get a soft drink and take a
pee, while I sat there trying not to throw up at the disgusting stench of the
said product being sold. From here, we ventured to Braintree to visit the
cemetery. Some of the on- and off-ramps for freeways here are confusing,
especially when trying to decipher the GPS instructions. When I gave Cathy
directions to ‘go this way’, I was aware that ‘this way’ is a somewhat
inaccurate term when there were at least 6 ways to go, but it would have been
just as useful as saying ‘go right, but not *this* right, *that* right instead’. Recalculating. Recalculating. Recalculating. Satellite reception lost.
Then, to the cemetery, and we found the gravesite we were
looking for quite quickly and the people in the office were really helpful. I
found myself getting a bit sad when Cathy told me of their story, which made me
think how little control we poor individuals have over our lives sometimes. We
left flowers, and I pondered how long it may have been since others did the
same. I won’t go into details of the event, but it reminded me of how awesome
Cathy is because of the nice, thoughtful, considerate things she does for people
who are no longer with us. I mentioned to her that while I don’t much care what happens to me
once I’m no longer here, I think it would be sad for Cathy not to have anyone
thinking about her once she’s gone, given how much she thinks about others who
have gone. If that makes sense. Hmm. A moment contemplating the inevitable. Maybe
I’ve said too much there; if existentialism persists, refrain from drinking such strong martinis.
We negotiated our way back into the CBD, dropped off the
car, kissed the GPS goodbye, and danced a dance of relief. A real achievement,
I think, to drive through a medium-sized US city on the other side of the road,
but it was definitely a two-person job.
Following this, we walked through the Boston Common, which
was a very nice park. Lots of ducks, and I don’t just mean the tourist-oriented
land-and-water vehicles. Had some lunch sitting on the grass from a vegan food
truck – I had the soy BLT served in a pita pocket, which was little short of
extraordinary, while Cathy had a spicy broccoli salad, some chips, and a
grilled pickle. Food here (I mean the US, not just Boston) can be so fresh it
boggles the mind that so many Americans eat so much McDonalds: or, for that
matter, KFC. But then again, there’s the fried dough. Yes. Fried dough. I don’t
want to know.
Buildings here (I mean Boston, not the US) are probably the
best I’ve seen in the US – yep, although the Chicago and NYC buildings are
impressive in their own right, in Boston, the buildings seem to complement each
other somehow. I don’t know exactly what I mean here, but there is a
light-and-shade thing going on where shadows are cast at angles that make the
architecture look even more stunning than it is. I don’t know the term or terms
required here, but there’s definitely something about this city that makes it
look more attractive that some of the others we’ve seen. It might be the history
– to be honest, parts of downtown Boston seem eerily similar to parts of the
Sydney CBD (but with less people) – or it could be the break in the heatwave – I
don’t know.
We walked around the Back Bay area, where Commonwealth and
Marlborough Streets are to be found, and I considered the poetry of Robert
Lowell. These may be two of the most beautiful streets I’ve ever strolled down.
This is where the other 0.01% of Bostonians live. Walking along the beautiful river
while Cathy tried to coax squirrels to her with the distinct promise of no food
whatsoever, we ended up back near the Common, and we had a drink at the ‘Cheers’
pub. Call me a daggy tourist, but I remember my father watching this show
regularly, so we dropped in for a beer on his behalf. Needless to say, it was
so crowded there’s no way they’d ever know my name, nor Norm’s, nor anyone else’s.
We then caught the train to Harvard, and I took a photograph
of Cathy standing in the quadrangle with students of equal or lesser ability
than hers. I know I could never have studied overseas, but she could have, and
I know this is selfish but I’m kind of glad she didn’t because otherwise we
wouldn’t have met. Still, it’s strange to ponder the opportunity cost (spoken
like a true economist) – which reminds me, I wish I’d visited the University of
Chicago so I could raise two fingers to the economics faculty, but that’s
another story. We strolled around the town and walked through a news outlet
called ‘Out Of Town News’, where the concept of ‘out of town’ is limited to
Washington and New York. Yes, even at Harvard. Kind of disappointing. There was some guy at a nearby pub up the road offering to play
chess against all comers, and when I discovered Cathy wasn’t game (and I would
have been stupid to even try), we had a drink or two at a nearby Tex/Mex place,
sitting outside in the beautiful sunshine.
Today was a bit of an anticlimax because Christy’s house was
possessed by a poltergeist, so we walked to the building where Cathy’s mum’s
aunt ran a ballet school years ago, then walked along a river (I avoided
getting attacked by geese), and went to a museum which Cathy greatly enjoyed.
Ended up back at Quincy Market and walked through a long corridor of food.
Reminded me of what it might have been like to be an item of clothing before
the invention of the washing machine – was like walking through a food wringer,
and we were very glad to get out to the other side. To recover, we both required
a drink – in my case, it was the strongest martini I’ve ever had. Staggered
back to the room, and wrote this post. Tonight will be a night in – we’re both
a bit tired, and I have some university stuff to do. Tomorrow we return to New
York for a few more days.
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