Boston.
So we went to New England. Like any other trip, or any other snippet of life, there was good and there was bad. On our first full day Cheryl, Beth and I went into Boston to see some sights. As is our custom, we took the commuter train into town from Lowell and bought a day pass for the subway in town. We got off the train around 11 a.m. and immediately decided that we were all hungry. We stopped at a restaurant across the street from the Fleet Center/North Station called The Fours. I have no idea what the name means, but they serve good food and even better service. From there we hopped on the T and went to Charleston (across the river from Boston) to see the Bunker Hill monument and the USS Constitution. I consider myself to have an above average appreciation for history, and standing on Breeds Hill gave me goose bumps (Note: the battle of Bunker Hill took place on Breeds Hill – don’t ask.) From there we walked back down the hill and checked out Old Ironsides. For the first time I took the tour of the ship and was once again awed by this close encounter with history. There I was, standing on the deck of a war ship built at the direction of our countries’ first president, about two hundred years ago – simply amazing. From there we walked the public gardens and the Common, ate dinner at Haymarket Square, and let Beth play to her heart’s content at the Children’s Museum. By the time we were ready to get on the T for the last time it was dark. I was prepared to feel more than a little wary walking through town at night. Strangely, I felt at home. Instead of feeling foreboding, the city felt welcoming, almost embracing. We had a spring in our step as we walked to the station, recalling the day that had just past. Considering that we had been on our feet all day, having spring in our step at 8:30 p.m. was some feat, and a testament to the enthusiasm with which we recounted our wonderful day. Alas, even enthusiasm can take you so far as we collapsed on the commuter train ride back to Lowell.