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My first post from Boston is also to be my last, because I'm lazy and couldn't be bothered to write anything before now. It's much cooler up here, which is definitely a good thing, mostly because I would hate to have lugged around all my hoodies and jeans for a month (not to mention my wool hat) for no good reason.
Most of the hostels here in the US won't allow alcohol on the premises. Others seem to operate a 'don't ask, don't tell' policy. The hostel in Philadelphia, on the other hand, operated more of a 'go right ahead, we're really not that fussed and by the way here's directions to the nearest off-licence' policy. Which was awesome. So I hooked up with four other Brits, Sarah, Madeleine, Charlie and Lloyd, and Helena, our token Swede. We loaded 22-year-old Sarah up with cash, set off to the off-licence, got ourselves a night's worth of rum, vodka and Bourbon, plus some pretzels, and set to it. We had a seriously good night. Unfortunately, I had to be up at six the next morning for my train to Boston, so I called it a night just before the Russian girls joined in and things got serious.
The next morning found me sitting at Philly's 30th Street Station with my bags, clutching a bottle of water and attempting to insulate myself from the world with my iPod. Unfortunately, every five minutes or so, a grating female voice would announce something along the lines of THE 376 FOR ALBANY NEW YORK IS NOW BOARDING CAR A IS DESIGNATED FOR BUSINESS CLASS PASSENGERS ONLY BUSINESS CLASS PASSENGERS ONLY CAR B IS THE DESIGNATED QUIET CAR THE DESIGNATED QUIET CAR ONLY ALL OTHER PASSENGERS PLEASE BOARD BETWEEN CARS C AND E CARS C D AND E AAAAARRGGH SHUTUPSHUTUPSHUTUP
In other words, was a little like this: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/2010/06/texas.html
Four cups of coffee later, I began to feel slightly better, especially since the lady I was sitting next to on the train was unusually taciturn for an American. Usually I would have enjoyed a good conversation but as it was I was ecstatic to be able to spend the six hour journey in peace.
Boston itself is a great town. It's very much a college town, which gives it a great atmosphere, and even better at the moment since college only started back a couple of weeks ago. The hostel is situated right by the Berklee School of Music, and there's live music everywhere in the town - five-piece jazz groups busk in the evenings and the bridges in the parks are littered with guitarists and their waiting hats/alternative monetary receptacles. Yesterday morning I took the unofficial Harvard tour, which was hilarious - our tour guides were Harvardians (?) with a penchant for theatrics and a flair for telling the ridiculous stories that make up Harvard's history, from the time the library burned down to the time Conan O'Brian stole the editor's chair of the school magazine. It was a beautiful today, so I spent the rest of it on Boston Common, which is the city's big green space, like Central Park only smaller and more Boston-y. It's where the Freedom Trail starts, which I walked on Friday, to my moderate amusement. The Freedom Trail is a three mile walking trail through the city passing many historical landmarks, most of which are fairly uninteresting. I did enjoy the free tours of the Massachusetts State House and the USS Constitution though.
I spent last night with Aaron, a guy from Sheffield who went on the Harvard tour with me, and Katrin, an Austrian girl who is sharing a room with me. We went to an ice cream parlour called J. P. Licks, which was AWESOME (most of my ice cream/frozen yogurt experiences in the US can be best described as AWESOME) and then on to Dunkin' Donuts, for my first American donuts. I may have slightly had three. In my defence they are mostly air. And saturated fat. And air. But oh my God, so good. I was buzzing the rest of the night from the sugar - as good as caffeine, I swear. We also watched part of a film about a teenage boy who goes on a roadtrip with a Christian missionary woman who turns out to be his mother but he doesn't know she is and he kisses her and then she's like I'M YOUR FATHER and we were like oh no WONDER she's so ugly. And the kid has a breakdown, as you might imagine. It was a strange film and yet still preferable to Sex and the City, which came on next.
This morning, Katrin and I went to the MIT Museum in Cambridge, where we enjoyed both the exhibits and the selection of merchandise available (Q-T-pi t-shirts, anyone? how about an alarm clock with wheels that goes off, jumps off your bedside table and runs away?). Then she went to go whale-watching while I meandered back to the hostel, having decided to spend my $40 on chocolate at the Lindt shop instead of sitting on a boat for four hours getting cold. Tonight, she, Aaron and I intend to go up a very tall building and get some pictures of the Boston skyline which should be, once again, awesome.
Tomorrow it's on to New York, the final stop on my Super-Duper Mega-Awesome Hyper-Sexy American Tour-stravaganza. It's very sad to think there's only a week left, but I full intend for that week to be completely legendary. If you've stuck with me this far, thank you. Until we e-meet again.
Brewster out.
- comments
David Stuck with you all the way...to late to get off the Brewster Blogbus now! Hope NY's ready for you. Keep safe.
ejags I don't care how busy you think you're gonna be when you get back, we'll do coffee or alcomahol? xx