Apr 23, 2013

Beantown - 3, Walking the Freedom Trail

Beard: Curls checked into the Taj Mahal, then a T ride to Boston Common for packet pickup. The subway cars were full, we stood and grabbed a pipe.  I inadvertently fondled passengers in close proximity with my bony limbs.

Train accelerated, my body pressed firmly and seductively against the burly African-American gentleman behind me. Deceleration, my body thrust forward, face inches from a frightened female stranger, our noses nearly touching and snorting lung exhaust on her glasses.  

It was a traumatic experience for everyone.  

Curls: Ah yes, packet pick-up. We headed out to the subway, got off in the downtown vicinity, and decided to walk the final leg to the Hynes Convention Center, our destination. We somehow got turned around and found ourselves in the midst of Chinatown. The makeshift sidewalk farmers' markets should have been our first clue. By this time, it was well past 5 pm. Rather than sprint through pick-up, I voted we hit it up early the next morning. That would be our first priority!

Beard: Yeah, we definitely took a sour turn and headed the wrong direction for pickup.  In hindsight, I’m glad we got lost...we decided to chuck Hynes and instead walk the Freedom Trail.

Start of the Freedom Trail
What a perfect evening to stroll! Temp was 70, the sky overcast and a silent stillness in the air. Curls and I are both history buffs, so this would be a walk to remember. The Freedom Trail is a 2.5 five mile walking tour, full of the good stuff. A red brick path marks the way, and strides by the State House, the Old South Meeting House, Paul Revere’s home, Old North Church, iron-sides USS Constitution, Bunker Hill and more.  

Quincy Market, I spooned a cup of Boston clam chowda
Interspersed throughout downtown Boston were these tiny cemeteries, quarantined on three
sides by buildings and offices. In one, the Old Granary Burial Ground, the headstones appeared quite old.  On closer inspection, we learned they held the bones of some of our founding fathers. There, to the left is the stone for Samuel Adams. Paul Revere is buried close by. John Hancock and Ben Franklin’s parents rest in this place.

Curls:  On the subway ride home, the cars were so jam-packed that Beard and I were completely separated, seated at opposite ends of the car. I managed to secure a seat adjacent to some gal who had her nose thrust into some “interesting” reading material. I diverted my eyes to catch a glimpse. Hilarious! The title of this document was “The Keys to Sexual Desire”. I tried to absorb as much as I could, speed-reading over this gal’s shoulder, without seeming too obvious about it, but was rudely interrupted by our T-stop. Half-baked knowledge would have to do.

Lamp stroll on Boston Common, glamour glasses at night, too

Beard: 11:30 pm by the time I stepped off the subway at Harvard Square and walked the campus towards my room at “A Friendly Inn.”  On the five block walk through the night, I saw a professor-looking fellow with a checkered sweater draped over his back and the shirt's arms knotted in front. He slowly pedaled through campus, basket up front full of important-looking books, his face bearded with round wire-rimmed glasses.  Just as I imagined it. Harvard was lit just right in the night, steeply-raked spires pierced the sky. Soft light leaked from the 1700’s-era brick dorms, a student in one room danced to a techno beat. 

Friendly Inn was pleasant and homey, smack in the middle of a clean neighborhood.  The bed and breakfast 125 years old and restored to very good condition. My folks were watching M.A.S.H. reruns when I walked in, groggy and ready for bed.

To be continued... 


  1. You ARE in Boston, or WERE in Boston!? Had you considered or did you consider a Boston Duck Tour?

  2. Nevermind. It's late and it's been quite a long day. Seems I jumped in to catch up on some blog reading at the wrong post. I've got it now. Anyway, let us know when you're in Boston again!


Thanks for the note, check back for my response!