Full of beans.
Trip Start
Oct 15, 2007
1
5
97
Trip End
Aug 24, 2008
The bus from Chinatown to Boston was dead cheap ($15 each), and when we arrived at our hostel, it turned out they could let us have a little apartment for the same rate as the rooms we'd booked online, which was a nice surprise.
Boston feels more...refined than New York. Older, and full of history. We pottered, and followed the "Freedom Trail", a walk through the city which takes in various historical sites: graves and former residences of the great and good of American Independence (John Hancock, Paul Revere, etc.). It's marked out by a red line. A red line made of red bricks. Red bricks running through brick paved streets. In the rain. Hmmm. We saw the oldest tavern in Boston. It's not on its original site...in fact, it's no longer on the site to which it moved after it left its original site. Actually, come to think of it, it's not run by the original family any more either. It's a pub, but with an old name. Silly really, in one of the few American cities which really is dripping with hundreds of years of history and tradition, they feel the need to invent more history and tradition.
Oh, and of course, we ate Boston Baked Beans and New England Clam 'Chowdah'. Yes, they spell it the way they say it, to make the point that that's how they talk in Boston (Baw-st'n).
We spent an evening in a local bar, sampling beers from their enormous beer menu, before heading back to the apartment which was full of studenty types who were all quite drunken and noisy. Also, the building seemed to have been superheated by red hot magma - Christ knows how we'll survive India if Boston is too hot...
Boston feels more...refined than New York. Older, and full of history. We pottered, and followed the "Freedom Trail", a walk through the city which takes in various historical sites: graves and former residences of the great and good of American Independence (John Hancock, Paul Revere, etc.). It's marked out by a red line. A red line made of red bricks. Red bricks running through brick paved streets. In the rain. Hmmm. We saw the oldest tavern in Boston. It's not on its original site...in fact, it's no longer on the site to which it moved after it left its original site. Actually, come to think of it, it's not run by the original family any more either. It's a pub, but with an old name. Silly really, in one of the few American cities which really is dripping with hundreds of years of history and tradition, they feel the need to invent more history and tradition.
Oh, and of course, we ate Boston Baked Beans and New England Clam 'Chowdah'. Yes, they spell it the way they say it, to make the point that that's how they talk in Boston (Baw-st'n).
We spent an evening in a local bar, sampling beers from their enormous beer menu, before heading back to the apartment which was full of studenty types who were all quite drunken and noisy. Also, the building seemed to have been superheated by red hot magma - Christ knows how we'll survive India if Boston is too hot...

