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eggwards(I wrote this segment on the train yesterday, and now I'm getting to finally upload it stealing someone's wireless signal here at my sister's brownstone in Baltimore. Whoever you are, "Bolton Hill", thanks!)
I’m on a train that’s moving from Boston to Baltimore. While not as quick as traveling by air, there’s a delightful lack of fuss with baggage and screening and all of that. The train is also not full, even on this leg from New Haven to New York City. Unfortunately I took a seat that faces where we’ve been, rather than where were going.
Just as this was my first trip to the Northeast, it will also be my first time to see New York…through the window. (Now after the fact, I can now say that New York City is pretty much just a tunnel.) Still, Philadelphia’s Skyline was pretty…and there’s a really hot business bear – likely straight, on board. I find that my libido's been running extra hot this week. Go fig.
Otherwise, as I go along, I never really expected to see Wilmington, Delaware at any time of my life.
Still, this post is meant to talk about the trip to Boston…so I might as well get on with it.
I landed at Logan on Saturday after missing my original flight out. Silly me, I managed to not set the alarm correctly and woke up much too late to get through the airport and on the plane. Chris and I scrambled to get the last items paced and get on the road in the pre-dawn hours. Here's a tip, despite the savings, the first flight out is not a good idea.
Luckily the second flight to Boston on American Airline’s schedule was only two hours later. After getting on the T and getting around the closed Big Dig tunnels, I found my hotel amidst the many tall buildings in a crazy circle of streets.
After getting settled, I immediately wanted to get started exploring the city, and the first thing I would do is explore the area around the hotel…the financial district. In getting out there, I found out that really, many attractions are within blocks of each other there, and within a few minutes, I had already seen the Old South Meeting Hall, the Old City Hall, The Old State House (wow, may things are labeled “old” in this town), as well as Faniuel Hall and Quincy Market, and headed out to Long Wharf to actually see some water.
I can already say that Quincy Market is pretty much a tourist trap, selling useless objects and souvenirs that are exactly the same as those who appear in carts next to every other historical or touristy area in town. Quincy Market has the longest collection of mall food places I have ever seen, and the tourists were flocking to it. That and the bar that somewhat resembled the Cheers set. You’ll also find that much like San Francisco, they have installed a homeless person looking for change next to all important structures and restaurants.
My first Locals to meet up with were Carlos (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
carlosito) and his roommate JB (who sadly does not have an LJ). They proceeded to take me on a walking tour the other way, showing me the golden dome of the State House, the Common, the Public Gardens, and the Back Bay with all of it’s higher end shopping, finally making out to the Christian Science Mother Church with its long reflecting pool. Both of my hosts were giving me many little tidbits about the area, including one that seemed to be the first thing anyone said, “Most of the city is built on landfill.”
After a dinner with JB, it was off to the Alley Bar, which was just a few blocks from my hotel. The place was friendly, and not too full, as the upstairs bar was open, as well as the lower. I liked the fact that the bar was smoke-free, as all of the bars and restaurants in the city were. The music was good, and the crowd friendly. There I saw Bob and Jeff, (bobinbstn and kingjeff), Joe (newtonbehr), Mike (crbear), Anthony (quietkub), Mike (ultrahip) and Terry (bigrock). I didn’t happen to notice that Paul (biggaloot) was also in the bar until later, after seeing him on Bear 411. Had I realized that he was the tall guy in the bar wearing the white shirt, I would have said hello. If I forgot anyone, hopefully they will forgive.
There was much talking, and a little drinking going on, but quickly it became last call, and everyone headed home.
Just a word about Bear 411 on a trip. It is fun to see who lives in an area, and is online on 411. Of course you feel like a tramp doing it, but it’s nice to get complements from people who just noticed you as being the new guy on the block, or the new meat on the market. That’s not to say that I didn’t get attention from the crowd at the bar for exactly the same reason. Still, talking to other guys on line in your empty hotel room can be a good timekiller…and a little frustrating. Still, it did come in handy once in trying to meet up with someone who I didn’t have his cell phone number.
The next morning – well afternoon, I started out with a plan to do something, but after calling Joe (newtonbehr) about lunch, those plans suddenly went in the wastebasket. Joe and Brian took me out to Boston’s seaport district where we ate at the No-Name Restaurant, a seafood place that gets a pretty fresh catch. Here’s where I had a cup of chowder. It wasn’t actually clam chowder, though there might have been some in there, but a fish cowder with bits of whatever they had. I’ll give it a middling review.
We took Brian home and Joe showed me around his neighborhood of Newton – where I didn’t see any figs. Still, I did see some homes; many Victorians that seemed to increase in size with every turn, that now go for millions of dollars. Of course that same few million could buy you a brownstone on Commonwealth Ave, but hey, all real estate seems to be in the stratosphere here. Most everyone had a tale about how much their rent was, or just the high cost of living in general, but no one actually complained about taxes…one of those misconceptions I’ve had about the area. Still, with the many transportation services, public parks and such, Boston area residents do seem to actually get something for their money.
So Joe then took me on a driving tour which pretty much became a large circle of the city, from Sommerville to South Boston. Quickly we went by sights that I would have to go by later to fully appreciate, but it helped me with getting a layout of the city. Very little of the area…except for the Back bay, seems to be set up with much of a sense for directions. He drove by the “gay area” in the South end, but we didn’t go into any of the bars there. It seems like the gay ghetto is kind of a dying thing here, and there’s bars spread out around town. I don’t know if that means Massachusetts has become more accepting, or it’s just that the sense of one place for the community just isn’t needed well, but the change just may be that the area has become too expensive for the old residents as new ones by up the houses the gays already refurbished.
Joe ended up taking me all the way out to Castle Island – an area at the shore of the bay, that apparently once was an island, but now isn’t – like Logan Airport. After taking a look around Fort Independence, we went for ice cream at a small shack there. Ice cream is apparently a big deal in Boston, as it was told to me that people will get it in the middle of the winter. The interesting thing about this story is actually the counter help. I decided to get a vanilla cone, and the 17 year old girl then asked me the fateful question…”Swoaaft or haaaaad?” (yes Terry, she gave me the Soft or Hard option…west end cones!). The choice was between soft serve and regular ice cream…it didn’t matter much that she also had to ask if I wanted a sugar of cake cone, since I was already stunned by the pronunciation of just a couple of words by this person.
You can definitely tell the New Englanders…even Joe, who seems to lack an accent for a bit until suddenly he hits a word with a particular sound…such as a sentence like, “We’ll go down to the bay, have some clams, and then take the caaaah to the baaaaah!” It’s intriguing to be sure. Even the announcer at Fenway Park had a perceptible way of hitting certain words. I found the difference between the professional, pre-recorded voice in some of the T trains and the voice of the drivers in trains that hadn’t been equipped, to be very fun. Next Stop, Havahd Yaaahd!
Joe and I had a particularly interesting time getting dinner that evening. After a stop for me to change for another evening at the Alley, we stepped out to Quincy Market (or locally, Quinzzzy Maahket) to find dinner, but it was late enough that all of the mall food was closed. Things close up pretty early in Boston. Really, after about eight or nine, the bars and a few full service restaurants are the only things open. We did manage to find a nearby McDonalds and went in as the lightning show was just beginning. When the rain started, all of those guys who are out there begging for change also came in, as it was the only place open. Of course they got Joe’s order wring to – I was surprised that he ordered his burger as I order mine, so I think it confused the English as a second language counter person. As quickly as we could, we finished and ran out into the rain to walk over to the Alley.
The Alley wasn’t as full as the previous night, but the Karaoke was already going when we arrived, and were greeted by the ever-bouncy Kevin (kev_bot). Their was a guy who was singing one of the Momma Rose songs from Gypsy – which really worried me about the thing, but except for that guy, no one else sang shotunes (he would come back later with a song from Phantom – which really isn’t a good choice). I met some people who were around from the night before, like Mike and Anthony, Carlos and JB, but there were others like Paul (puckbear) and his boyfriend Chris. Chris and Joe’s partner Brian had a good time wrestling each other, and I managed to sing a couple of times. Let’s say that Howard Jones isn’t a good choice, but Duran Duran is.
Still there were some really good singers, and a few bad ones, too. By midnight, everyone was going home, and a nice guy and good singer named Dan (not on LJ, either) decided to drive me back the couple of blocks to the hotel, which turned out to be a nightmare of trying to navigate the curving streets of the financial district. I probably could have walked back and forth a few times in the time it took to get the car correctly pointed to the hotel.
OK, I guess I’ll need to hold it here, as we’re going over the Chesapeake and about to get into Baltimore’s Penn Station…
(So, there it is for now...More later)
I’m on a train that’s moving from Boston to Baltimore. While not as quick as traveling by air, there’s a delightful lack of fuss with baggage and screening and all of that. The train is also not full, even on this leg from New Haven to New York City. Unfortunately I took a seat that faces where we’ve been, rather than where were going.
Just as this was my first trip to the Northeast, it will also be my first time to see New York…through the window. (Now after the fact, I can now say that New York City is pretty much just a tunnel.) Still, Philadelphia’s Skyline was pretty…and there’s a really hot business bear – likely straight, on board. I find that my libido's been running extra hot this week. Go fig.
Otherwise, as I go along, I never really expected to see Wilmington, Delaware at any time of my life.
Still, this post is meant to talk about the trip to Boston…so I might as well get on with it.
I landed at Logan on Saturday after missing my original flight out. Silly me, I managed to not set the alarm correctly and woke up much too late to get through the airport and on the plane. Chris and I scrambled to get the last items paced and get on the road in the pre-dawn hours. Here's a tip, despite the savings, the first flight out is not a good idea.
Luckily the second flight to Boston on American Airline’s schedule was only two hours later. After getting on the T and getting around the closed Big Dig tunnels, I found my hotel amidst the many tall buildings in a crazy circle of streets.
After getting settled, I immediately wanted to get started exploring the city, and the first thing I would do is explore the area around the hotel…the financial district. In getting out there, I found out that really, many attractions are within blocks of each other there, and within a few minutes, I had already seen the Old South Meeting Hall, the Old City Hall, The Old State House (wow, may things are labeled “old” in this town), as well as Faniuel Hall and Quincy Market, and headed out to Long Wharf to actually see some water.
I can already say that Quincy Market is pretty much a tourist trap, selling useless objects and souvenirs that are exactly the same as those who appear in carts next to every other historical or touristy area in town. Quincy Market has the longest collection of mall food places I have ever seen, and the tourists were flocking to it. That and the bar that somewhat resembled the Cheers set. You’ll also find that much like San Francisco, they have installed a homeless person looking for change next to all important structures and restaurants.
My first Locals to meet up with were Carlos (
carlosito) and his roommate JB (who sadly does not have an LJ). They proceeded to take me on a walking tour the other way, showing me the golden dome of the State House, the Common, the Public Gardens, and the Back Bay with all of it’s higher end shopping, finally making out to the Christian Science Mother Church with its long reflecting pool. Both of my hosts were giving me many little tidbits about the area, including one that seemed to be the first thing anyone said, “Most of the city is built on landfill.”After a dinner with JB, it was off to the Alley Bar, which was just a few blocks from my hotel. The place was friendly, and not too full, as the upstairs bar was open, as well as the lower. I liked the fact that the bar was smoke-free, as all of the bars and restaurants in the city were. The music was good, and the crowd friendly. There I saw Bob and Jeff, (
bobinbstn and kingjeff), Joe (newtonbehr), Mike (crbear), Anthony (quietkub), Mike (ultrahip) and Terry (bigrock). I didn’t happen to notice that Paul (biggaloot) was also in the bar until later, after seeing him on Bear 411. Had I realized that he was the tall guy in the bar wearing the white shirt, I would have said hello. If I forgot anyone, hopefully they will forgive.There was much talking, and a little drinking going on, but quickly it became last call, and everyone headed home.
Just a word about Bear 411 on a trip. It is fun to see who lives in an area, and is online on 411. Of course you feel like a tramp doing it, but it’s nice to get complements from people who just noticed you as being the new guy on the block, or the new meat on the market. That’s not to say that I didn’t get attention from the crowd at the bar for exactly the same reason. Still, talking to other guys on line in your empty hotel room can be a good timekiller…and a little frustrating. Still, it did come in handy once in trying to meet up with someone who I didn’t have his cell phone number.
The next morning – well afternoon, I started out with a plan to do something, but after calling Joe (
newtonbehr) about lunch, those plans suddenly went in the wastebasket. Joe and Brian took me out to Boston’s seaport district where we ate at the No-Name Restaurant, a seafood place that gets a pretty fresh catch. Here’s where I had a cup of chowder. It wasn’t actually clam chowder, though there might have been some in there, but a fish cowder with bits of whatever they had. I’ll give it a middling review. We took Brian home and Joe showed me around his neighborhood of Newton – where I didn’t see any figs. Still, I did see some homes; many Victorians that seemed to increase in size with every turn, that now go for millions of dollars. Of course that same few million could buy you a brownstone on Commonwealth Ave, but hey, all real estate seems to be in the stratosphere here. Most everyone had a tale about how much their rent was, or just the high cost of living in general, but no one actually complained about taxes…one of those misconceptions I’ve had about the area. Still, with the many transportation services, public parks and such, Boston area residents do seem to actually get something for their money.
So Joe then took me on a driving tour which pretty much became a large circle of the city, from Sommerville to South Boston. Quickly we went by sights that I would have to go by later to fully appreciate, but it helped me with getting a layout of the city. Very little of the area…except for the Back bay, seems to be set up with much of a sense for directions. He drove by the “gay area” in the South end, but we didn’t go into any of the bars there. It seems like the gay ghetto is kind of a dying thing here, and there’s bars spread out around town. I don’t know if that means Massachusetts has become more accepting, or it’s just that the sense of one place for the community just isn’t needed well, but the change just may be that the area has become too expensive for the old residents as new ones by up the houses the gays already refurbished.
Joe ended up taking me all the way out to Castle Island – an area at the shore of the bay, that apparently once was an island, but now isn’t – like Logan Airport. After taking a look around Fort Independence, we went for ice cream at a small shack there. Ice cream is apparently a big deal in Boston, as it was told to me that people will get it in the middle of the winter. The interesting thing about this story is actually the counter help. I decided to get a vanilla cone, and the 17 year old girl then asked me the fateful question…”Swoaaft or haaaaad?” (yes Terry, she gave me the Soft or Hard option…west end cones!). The choice was between soft serve and regular ice cream…it didn’t matter much that she also had to ask if I wanted a sugar of cake cone, since I was already stunned by the pronunciation of just a couple of words by this person.
You can definitely tell the New Englanders…even Joe, who seems to lack an accent for a bit until suddenly he hits a word with a particular sound…such as a sentence like, “We’ll go down to the bay, have some clams, and then take the caaaah to the baaaaah!” It’s intriguing to be sure. Even the announcer at Fenway Park had a perceptible way of hitting certain words. I found the difference between the professional, pre-recorded voice in some of the T trains and the voice of the drivers in trains that hadn’t been equipped, to be very fun. Next Stop, Havahd Yaaahd!
Joe and I had a particularly interesting time getting dinner that evening. After a stop for me to change for another evening at the Alley, we stepped out to Quincy Market (or locally, Quinzzzy Maahket) to find dinner, but it was late enough that all of the mall food was closed. Things close up pretty early in Boston. Really, after about eight or nine, the bars and a few full service restaurants are the only things open. We did manage to find a nearby McDonalds and went in as the lightning show was just beginning. When the rain started, all of those guys who are out there begging for change also came in, as it was the only place open. Of course they got Joe’s order wring to – I was surprised that he ordered his burger as I order mine, so I think it confused the English as a second language counter person. As quickly as we could, we finished and ran out into the rain to walk over to the Alley.
The Alley wasn’t as full as the previous night, but the Karaoke was already going when we arrived, and were greeted by the ever-bouncy Kevin (
kev_bot). Their was a guy who was singing one of the Momma Rose songs from Gypsy – which really worried me about the thing, but except for that guy, no one else sang shotunes (he would come back later with a song from Phantom – which really isn’t a good choice). I met some people who were around from the night before, like Mike and Anthony, Carlos and JB, but there were others like Paul (puckbear) and his boyfriend Chris. Chris and Joe’s partner Brian had a good time wrestling each other, and I managed to sing a couple of times. Let’s say that Howard Jones isn’t a good choice, but Duran Duran is. Still there were some really good singers, and a few bad ones, too. By midnight, everyone was going home, and a nice guy and good singer named Dan (not on LJ, either) decided to drive me back the couple of blocks to the hotel, which turned out to be a nightmare of trying to navigate the curving streets of the financial district. I probably could have walked back and forth a few times in the time it took to get the car correctly pointed to the hotel.
OK, I guess I’ll need to hold it here, as we’re going over the Chesapeake and about to get into Baltimore’s Penn Station…
(So, there it is for now...More later)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-08-25 02:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-25 03:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 04:29 am (UTC)What happened was that the directions to Hard Rock are set for a car, not for a bus...I had to get off the interstate much earlier, and when I got off, I ended up in Beacon Hill. It wasn't fun, let me tell you.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-25 03:49 pm (UTC)His mother for the first year or so couldn't get it. It was one of those words that her soft bahston accent couldn't quite get through. The father always said with some force, alot of curtness.
But to his mother, I was always: Cahhhlos. I think at one point she actually said: Cahlos, cahlos! Get in the cah. We have to go to the Mahket and then the Bah to pick up his bwaatheh. I literally don't know how I made it throughout that first visit without giggling.
I know she was prolly thinking: Why couldn't Jeff had met a Tom or a Mike? And really, a Yankees fan...in this house?
I guess it could be worse, jeff could be boston irish instead of central massachusetts half armenian. Although Boston Irish would be hot.
Its a wonderful sound that boston twang.
no subject
Date: 2006-08-27 02:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-08-31 05:52 am (UTC)I had no idea the No Name was still there! It was a college ritual to go there at least once a semester....