Boston~my most favorite BIG city

Sept 6, 2006
Current mood:refreshed

Boston


Hull on Nantasket

It's only been five days since our airplane touched down and I swear I've been to every state in the thirteen colonies! :) We arrived in Boston just in time for the 2:00 rush hour on the Pike so we diverted to an out of the way Thai Restaurant on the outlying boundaries of Cambridge before heading into the sea of never-ending vehicles.   The beef satay had the most interesting texture and flavor of any red meat I've ever had the opportunity of putting in my mouth. After the first few bites, I did notice that there didn't seem to be any neighborhood pets running loose. Nonetheless, it did not deter my appetite. After passing Fenway Park, Bunker Hill, the North Church, the harbor where all the men dumped their tea, we headed out to the southeast corner of the Boston Harbor to a 7 mile strip of land called the Nantasket Peninusla and a little tiny town called Hull.


We pulled into the driveway of a beautiful home along the shores of the ocean. I knew this was heaven. The house was only 10 feet from the breaking waves to the east, and Gunney's Irish Pub, 10 feet to the west!! This was already looking way too good. And, it only got better!

Jeff, a college buddy of Brett's, had bought this house as a remodel, and had been working on it for the last three years. The front deck could be a home of it's own spanning an easy 60 feet across the beach, complete with boardwalk, bonfire pit on the sand, and lobster boats up the wazoo(which we took complete advantage of). It's a slow, sleepy kind of a town, and after pretending I was princess for a day(because Jeff was in Boston until late the first night, and Brett was sound asleep, I was left to my own accord), with a raging fire in the floor to ceiling rock fireplace, Vermont cheese, a bottle of Zin, the Ernesto storm front kicking up the sea, and an exercise ball, I watched the city of Boston backlight the horizon across the inlet and wondered what it would have been like 300 years before.
Waterfront property and 10 steps to the local tavern!

That night, after a dinner of steamers and lobsters, we made our way to Gunney's. It was a Tuesday night so there was only us, the bartender, two lobster fish men, a local couple, two of Jeff's friends, along with Lizzie Borden's very intoxicated, very vocal,  great, great niece. Needless to say..........it runs in the family, if you know what I mean.
Wednesday morning I woke up to fresh lobster for breakfast and a very sunny day! We decided to venture into Boston for some real Italian, drip down to your elbow, greasy pizza. We never made it to the pizza, instead finding ourselves immersed in the Downtown Duck Tours. I couldn't even begin to explain it to you, except for the fact that we took a World War ll amphibious vehicle and went all over North Boston then straight into the St. Charles River, and, yes, I got to drive the vehicle once it was a boat. Apparently, the driver is partial to the Blonde Irish! :)
After two hours of Boston's full history being narrated by Col. Duck Tape, we battled back to the serenity of the shores of Hull gorging on eight, fat and happy, freshly caught lobster from one of the men in Gully's that we had met the night before. Jeff and I ate two each and by the time we got to the "KING of the Sea"(I have pictures to prove how ginormous this thing was), Brett, who has an aversion to seafood, had turned green from watching and had to lay down before he lost his grilled chicken. However, Jeff and I were on a quest, as his 15 yr old, vegetarian son looked on in disgust. We dropped the King into the pot, he squealed and tried to back out tail first to no avail. Ten minutes later he was perched in the middle of the dining table, his claws twice the size of my hand. We only devoured the claws, saving the rest for lobster rolls the next day. 
After dinner we strolled down onto the beach to light up the fire pit, sitting underneath the blanket of stars listening to the soothing sound of the waves roll in. When the last smouldering ember ceased to exist,  we headed back over to the Gunney for a night of Karaoke led by a hearty group of drunk fishermen that have decided to start the sailor bar version of American Idol. It would definitely be more entertaining than any reality show. 

Colonel Duck Tape kicking back on the St. Charles River. 
After another morning sleeping until God knows when(but I do know that I was the last one up, again :)), we made our way back to Boston to a place called Santarpio's. Its claim to fame, besides being in Little Italy and having the best pizza reputation in Massachusettes, is that they served one of the pilot's from 9/11 his last meal. 

Yummmmmmmmm!!!!
Santarpio's is located on a block where you can put your wife out with the garbage. Where the pay phone on the corner has a sign above it that reads, "Phone Not In  Service between 11am and 6pm". As we walked through the front door we stepped back in time to another world, an Italian world. Every walk of life was there from the suits of the city, to the eighty year old Italian guys that were dressed in their button down Arrow shirts and friends since childhood, to the guy you know had saved a week's pay just to buy a slice of pie. Since we all couldn't agree on one type of pizza we ordered three. I died and went to heaven with that first bite, and.......the grease DID drip all the way down to my elbow!
After two hours of ordering, waiting and eating our infamous pizza, we left to Jeff's mother's house who happens to live in the same neighborhood as Matt Damon's mother. She was ALL Boston, complete with the hospitality and thick accent. We then rushed across the street to the Harvard Bookstore before it closed to experience piece of the oldest college in the US. What an incredible campus!!
Through these two days, Boston became the most favorite place I've ever visited, pulling a close second to Calgary! The culture of the Italians and Irish consumed me. I felt the soul of the city emanating from every street corner. The value placed on family, extended family, nationality and the passion that Bostonians do everything with only begins to show the passions that America was founded on. I love Boston! And I hated to leave..........
Boston Harbor

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