Bawstuhn

Apologies for taking so long to post this recap of our trip to Boston over Thanksgiving, but we've only just recovered because this is what our weekend in Beantown was like:

Sike.  Jon would have loved to get into a bare-knuckle fight with some kids whose ancestors shipped over from Ireland 150 years ago, but the wildest thing we did was head to a sports bar on Monday night for artery-clogging food and watched the Patriots play Kansas City.  (Thanks to my sister Sarah, my lovely English boyfriend can probably now explain the rules of football better than me.)  Anyway.  The trip:

flying into Logan

We arrived early Saturday afternoon after an easy flight; we hopped into a taxi at the airport (I was loving the exchange rate since I get paid in pounds sterling!) and went straight to Sarah's apartment in the beautiful Beacon Hill neighborhood.  We walked around for a while - oh, hello, Senator Kerry - and I drooled over the narrow streets and elegant townhouses.  I mean, wouldn't you?

After a quick stop at the swishest Starbucks I have ever seen, where I conducted a highly scientific survey to determine that chai lattes taste better when you pay $3 instead of £3 for them, we wandered through Boston Common.  Sarah told us that it was called a common because it used to be shared land where the people could graze their sheep; Jon and I were like, "Well, duh.  We had those first.  Copycat."

We indulged in some window shopping on Newbury Street and, after a few hours, returned to Sarah's apartment to recuperate from our strenuous day of walking around.  (What?  Boston is very vertical!)  Sarah borrowed some of our jetlag, and so we arranged a perfect night in: Upper Crust pizza and the Food Network.  Jon and I were asleep by 9:03pm.

On Sunday morning, we treated Sarah and her roommate Erin to brunch at the Beacon Hill Hostel Bistro (dear Lord, I thank you for providing me with a real American brunch where eggs Benedict is not the only option on the menu) and then Jon and I ventured off to follow the Freedom Trail.  (Every time Jon made a snarky comment about walking on the "freedom street" or looking at a "freedom church," I sang the theme song from Team America: World Police.  After all, as our 43rd president taught us: if you're not with us, you're against us.)  Actually, we had a lovely day and it was a great walk; the weather cooperated absolutely and it was nice to discover a new city together.

Following Erin's suggestion, we hit up the seaport for our date night.  We stopped first for a drink at Temazcal and then enjoyed dinner at Legal Harborside where I ate the best lobster roll of my entire life.

We headed off early on Monday morning to see the Degas show at Boston's Museum of Fine Arts, which was breathtaking in its exquisite beauty and developmental scope.  His pastel La Toilette was my favorite and I'd love to find a print of it:

Our next adventure was on the MBTA, where a tram ate my $20, which took us to Cambridge.  We went to a very upscale tavern for lunch and then walked around town for a while.  I was surprised that we weren't allowed onto the Harvard campus, as I never remember having had a problem wandering around the quad before, but maybe campus security was antsy because of the obvious Occupy tents dotting the lawn.

For our last evening in Boston, Sarah took us out for wings and burgers and beer and to watch the Pats game - America, [expletive] yeah!  The next morning, we headed south...