Last time I was in Boston, it was years ago in July. It rained every day and the temperature was in the fifties. This time, Boston was nicer to me. Much nicer. Yes, it was cold, but it was a beautiful sunny day.
Boston would be an amazing place to grow up in, surrounded by all the history that is still very much alive. The architecture of the city keeps it so, and walking the narrow streets in Beacon Hill and the North End make you feel transported into the past. Fun fact — the reason buildings by the waterside where built with a particular type of brick was to withstand attacks from pirates, the British and other unfriendly watercraft.
The streets were not made for walking and yet everyone, including the men, wore heels back in the day. A lot of twisted ankles, one assumes.
First, a little roaming around Chinatown, where I found some very delicious looking bread pastry.
The North End was my favorite because it’s also where Little Italy is located. This equals a lot of coffee places. The area is just oozing with culture and history, but so is all of Boston.
Paul Revere lived in a two-bedroom house with 16 children. His famous “midnight ride” was unrelated to the British coming— he just wanted some peace and quiet.
There is a photo opportunity on every single corner and door. I could walk around this city for weeks and still not have enough photos. Coming from Arizona, Boston feels like I’m in a completely different country. The whole lifestyle, culture and people seem to move at a different rhythm.
I’m headed for Woods Hole tomorrow, hopefully. The lady at the bus counter gave broad directions on how and where to catch the bus: just go to the airport and wave it down. Sounds simple enough.