I love Boston. I feel like a local. This evening I went out on an errand. ON MY OWN. And I succeeded and negotiated their transport system and came home a winner. But I'll get to that.
We planned to say goodbye to Cape Cod in some sort of style so last night, I looked up the best places for breakfast in Yarmouth Port, a stately stretch of the cape populated with old sea captain's houses and antique shops. That way, we'd end our time there somewhere beautiful and eating a hearty farewell breakfast. We picked out The Optimist Cafe. We were struck by the irony of that when we rocked up to find it closed. Seriously Cape Cod, we just want to be friends.
Smiles wry, we drove on through the rain through highway 6A, the oldest stretch of highway in the US, or something. It was lined with the same beautiful forests, marshes, homes and towns as the previous day's journey along the cape. The rain actually suited it. There was nothing dreary about how it all looked. It looked fresh.
We kept our eyes peeled for somewhere to eat breakfast and in East Sandwich, stumbled across Cafe Riverview. It's a cafe owned and run by a school for adolescents and young adults with language, learning and cognitive disabilities. The students work at the cafe and the aim is to give them the experience and skills to help them find jobs in the the food services industry when they leave school. Both the food and the service were first rate and I was delighted to have found the place and to have been able to support these good people doing good things. Good people doing good things seem to be everywhere in America.
As we got near Boston, the freeway seemed to fan out into a dozen lanes, all filled with slowing cars and over the crest of the road beyond them, the Boston skyline stood blockish and grand and many windowed and I don't know why but I had a feeling I was going to like it here.
'So many cars!' said S as we entered the city traffic. 'So many buildings!' she said as the city surrounded us. 'So many bricks!' she said, focusing on one particular building. It's clear we've kept our kid out in the sticks for too long.
I navigated the city traffic to check into our hotel and then, with a tear in my eye, ditched The Hog back with the car rental people. Then we were on foot. Boston has a fair few kid friendly statues knocking about. We found the tortoise and the hare almost immediately which caused great delight and lots of posing for photos from S. And in the Public Garden, there were statues of Mrs Mallard and her eight ducklings from a famous kid's book about ducks in Boston. There was a plague of kids getting their photos taken around them, S among them. She sat on each of the nine ducks and photos were taken. We were there a while. The squirrels in the gardens were frighteningly tame and came far too close. I had horrible images of S's thumbs going the same way as mine at the teeth of a rabid squirrel so maintained a bodyguard style watch over the kid, steaming in to ward off any of the critters before they crossed that boundary.
One of the best things about getting into a city and walking around is that E has got her camera to hand and is taking a lot of pictures. People and cities as subjects seem to interest her a lot more than nature. Unfortunately, I end up in a lot of them, grimacing red facedly, sucking the joy out of the picture like a dementor from Harry Potter (which was on TV tonight which might be why they're on my mind). Anyway, E's Instagram feed is ticking along nicely. She also has a big, complicated camera and I'm looking forward to seeing my red grimace in high definition.
We walked home from town along Newbury Street which might be Boston's answer to Camden or Manchester's Northern Quarter. Cool shop after cool shop. I went into the Converse shop, despite the fact that my podiatrist has warned me off them as my feet are transforming into archness flippers. I resisted the trainers. I saw a nice tshirt. The podiatrist didn't warn me off Converse tshirts. The whole way up this cool cool street, S was so good but it was clear she was knackered. We figured we needed a cheap buggy so that, essentially, she can sleep when we're doing stuff that's going to bore her.
Back at the hotel, some swift Googling led me to a shop called Target. Target is an unlikely blend of M&S and Wilkos. I love it. It might be one of the great evils of American society but I don't know anything about that so I'm going to be unashamed about my affections for it at this stage. While S was getting ready for bed, I took the Metro out to Fenway and picked up a $20 stroller, returning home without getting lost and with stroller in hand. I fit in like any other stroller buying Bostonian. I like this city.
No comments:
Post a Comment