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Boston Proper
I devoted Sunday to doing a volksmarch in Boston itself. I'd done the Back Bay volksmarch previously so, as obvious as it may be, I did the Freedom Trail one this time. The route is only partly along the Freedom Trail, but still allows the opportunity to overhear odd tourist comments. For example, Paul Revere's house is in the North End, which is also Boston's Little Italy and some woman said, "I didn't know Paul Revere was Italian."
Not that I'm necessarily all that much better because I can never walk through the North End without thinking about the Prince spaghetti commercials of my youth.
The route left the Freedom Trail and meandered along the Harborwalk, past the site of the great molasses flood (which really ought to have a plaque), down to Rowe's Wharf and across to South Station, before turning towards Downtown Crossing and rejoining tourist central. I'd never been in Paul Revere Park or walked across the Charles via the locks before, which made it interesting.
The walk instructions were excellent, except that one of the checkpoints had closed a week ago and another required a certain amount of interpretation. (They asked for the name of the ice cream stand at South Station. There was a chocolate shop which said they would have gelato again soon, so I assumed that was the place they meant.)
After the walk, I went over to the Quncy Market and browsed the shops for a bit, but didn't find anything I particularly wanted. I hadn't expected to, but you never know. The last time I was there I'd gotten my "I love New York; it's the Yankees I hate" t-shirt. (Which, by the way, is the second best t-shirt I've over owned, just behind the one that said, "Sex, Drugs and Opera.") Then I retrieved my bag and headed off to the airport. I've already written about the delays getting home, so I won't belabor the point. There are many great things about Washington but our summer weather is not one of them.
Not that I'm necessarily all that much better because I can never walk through the North End without thinking about the Prince spaghetti commercials of my youth.
The route left the Freedom Trail and meandered along the Harborwalk, past the site of the great molasses flood (which really ought to have a plaque), down to Rowe's Wharf and across to South Station, before turning towards Downtown Crossing and rejoining tourist central. I'd never been in Paul Revere Park or walked across the Charles via the locks before, which made it interesting.
The walk instructions were excellent, except that one of the checkpoints had closed a week ago and another required a certain amount of interpretation. (They asked for the name of the ice cream stand at South Station. There was a chocolate shop which said they would have gelato again soon, so I assumed that was the place they meant.)
After the walk, I went over to the Quncy Market and browsed the shops for a bit, but didn't find anything I particularly wanted. I hadn't expected to, but you never know. The last time I was there I'd gotten my "I love New York; it's the Yankees I hate" t-shirt. (Which, by the way, is the second best t-shirt I've over owned, just behind the one that said, "Sex, Drugs and Opera.") Then I retrieved my bag and headed off to the airport. I've already written about the delays getting home, so I won't belabor the point. There are many great things about Washington but our summer weather is not one of them.
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