My first adventure led me to Boston China town. I've been reading this book, Boston neighborhoods, that seems to romanticize different neighborhoods. In other words, I was really excited to see this Chinatown, but vaguely disappointed. Sure, there was a cool entranceway, a place that sold live chickens, and the signs were in Chinese...but it was only about 3 streets big and was mostly wall-to-wall chinese restaurants. There was a bakery- the name fails me (Eudo?)- that had some yummy sesame balls and pork buns.
On the corner of Washington and Essex, right on the edge of Chinatown, is the spot where the Liberty Tree once stood. Now, it's a bare corner with a small sign. I'm suprised there isn't a tourist attraction on this corner-- Liberty Bob's Red Sox Emporium or some such nonsense. Or at least a tree. Nope, just a sign.
Of course, I couldn't be a true tourist unless I payed homage to Faneuil Hall. It's a crazy touristy place with loads of shops, stands, and an enormous amount of food. That picture didn't make the cut, but the Boston City Hall nearby did. It was a pretty day-- made the kind of ugly building look rather nice. While I took this picture, there was a man with an electrolarynx singing the national anthum for money standing about 10 feet behind me. I looked-- no stoma-- hope he didn't steal the electrolarynx from a true Laryngectomee. I refrained from asking.
If you turn right out of the Faneuil Hall mess and walk towards the Haymarket stop, you'll walk through a small park with the Holocaust Memorial. I stumbled on it as I was heading somewhere else. It was one of the most unusual and effective memorials. The tall glass boxes have numbers lining them--one for each victim. On a inside layer of glass is a quote from a survivor. You walk into each box, over the threshold of the name of one of the camps, and stand on a grill emitting hot air. And you read the quote as you are encased by the numbers. I've never seen something so simple, and yet so disturbing and beautiful. The design is genius- it deserves two pictures.
Another Saturday led me to Little Italy and the Old North Church of the "one if by land, two if by sea" fame. In a small memorial to the side of the church I learned something new. Robert Newman was the Sexton of the Old North Church who hung the lanterns for old Paul Revere. Newman's great grandfather was a minister named Burroughs who was accused of being a witch during the Salem Witch Trials and was hung on Gallows hill. "From Gallows Hill to the Old North Church, the torch had been passed to Robert Newman and another generation to create a new republic under a constitution founded on the same principles that had been denied Burroughs and nineteen other martyrs during the Salem Witch Trials." You ever have a moment when things shift under your feet, history lines up, and you realize the stories are anything but? I still have some goosebumps left from that moment.
Labor Day gave me a chance to go to the 50th floor of the Prudential building and enjoy the view of Boston. This accomplished a few goals- first, it gave me something to do on my day off. Second, it helped my map of Boston come alive and helped me gain a new view (literally) of the juxtaposition of the areas I had already visited. Finally, I noted the areas I had yet to allow my feet to fall. I hadn't visited the harbor area, or the financial district, or the COMMONS! Silly me, I had been skirting many of these areas as I went to others. I will soon visit them! Here's the view:
The large shiny building is Hancock Tower. At it's base, to the left, is a very nice structure called Trinity Church (it looks quite tiny in this scale, but is quite large). The park area in front of the church is Copley Square, where I watched The Princess Bride on the big screen. Following downwards, is the Boston Public Library. My gym is in this area, called Backbay, as is my friend's sister place of work. The green trees to the left of the shiny building is the Commons and public gardens.
The most recent Saturday adventure began with a vague idea of possibly finding fresh seafood and walking along the Harbor walk- a meandering pathway that follows the lines of Boston Harbor. I got out at the Boston World Trade Center stop and walked about a block in the wrong direction before I identified the large structure in front of me to be the conference center, not the World Trade Center. After a U-turn, I found the correct building and admired the flags on the side of the building.
I stopped next door and ate a lovely lunch overlooking the harbor at Anthony's on Pier 4. Next door to that was the Institute of Contemporary Art. Touring solo can be lonely, but it can also be very freeing-- especially for someone like me who tends to go with the flow of groups. I decided I would like to see this museum, which I had never heard of, and there's no time like the present! No pictures allowed, however you can google "Bourgeois" and see pictures from the special exhibit I saw. I believe this artist is featured in the sculpture park next to the Smithsonian in D.C. as well. My other favorite sculture was called "hanging fire" by Cornelious Parker (this picture, I stole from Google). It was comprised of charred wood suspended from the ceiling by wires. The more I looked at it, the more it looked like one of those large fires we built in college that reached for the sky. I wish I could re-create it in my house somewhere.
As I followed the Harbor walk, I came across the courthouse. Streetside, it's a stately building with nice quotes carved into solid base heavy stones giving you the idea that this is a building that's not going anywhere soon. As you round the corner, there's another side that's solid glass and framed by circular lawns and a view of the harbor. To find the interesting side of the Moakley Federal Courthouse, you have to reach the end of the solid looking blocks, cut through an outdoor cafe, and look to the right.
My Saturday adventure led me to this picture. That's the courthouse in the background, with a bridge that I crossed (pedestrian walkway) and a random old dilapidated house. It didn't look like it was in use, but parked all along the wall I was stand on were multiple large boats and yachts. What is that old house doing in Boston harbor between fancy hotels, yachts and the city courthouse? I'm sure there's a story, but the walkway held only tourists like myself, and there weren't even many of us this far from Faneuil hall. No one to ask.
That's the best of them. I know this post is a bit TLTR, but there's been a lapse in my internet use- heaven knows why. Mom's coming Thursday, so I've got to figure out what she might enjoy and slip in something new for me as well. Maybe we'll take a ferry somewhere.
