It was the whole Plymouth Rock scene again as our plane landed on Wednesday at the fabulouse Logan airport. I leapt from the plane, kneeled to the tarmac and kissed the hot, sweaty ground until it groaned and kissed me back. Never again will I attempt a more-than-30-minute flight with two, sleep-deprived children under the age of five without my faithful bottle of benadryl. And to any of you parents out there reading this and smugly saying to yourself, "I would NEVER drug my child to fly on an airplane." Well, screw you, I would and this is my journal, so kiss my a--.
A shuttle ride later, we were at the car rental agency. They had two vehicles available in the class I had reserved (full size). Both were not clean to my liking. I want a rental car to smell and feel like a NEW car, especially when I have to spend the next ten days schlepping around the East coast in it. The kindly manager duly noted my indignation and I tapped my toe as they sent one of the cars off to be cleaned. To my surprise, they rolled up another car- a Dodge 300 and handed me the keys. Yes, we're tooling around (Dean, the two kids and I, car seats and all) in the car that a man on the street today stopped to tell us was 'one sweet ride'.
Thursday and Friday we spent in Boston. Thursday we went to Cambridge. I explained to Viola that here was Harvard and one day she would go to big girl school here if she didn't completely schmuck up all our hopes and dreams for her. I bought her a sweatshirt in every size so she can wear one perpetually over the next 14 years. We located a Starbucks. No toffee nut lattes. Clearly these people aren't as intelligent as purported. We wandered around an old cemetary. There were some old, dead people there. Cool.
The afternoon was spent at the Boston Common and the Public Garden. Fabulous. They have these cute little swan boats. There was a great playground and a giant wading pool that was, thankfully, closed. We returned the following day prepared with bathing suits and towels. Friday we walked the Freedom Trail, went to Paul Revere's house and sat in a little cafe eating gelato and drinking wine. The highlight of the day was riding the subway.
Saturday was Rebecca's wedding. This meant a flurry of activity: getting my gear together and switching to a new hotel in Lowell. These activities required most of the morning and early afternoon. I was able to squeeze in a run in the morning. The thing I've come to realize about New Hampshire and Massachusetts is that any through street is a highway and everyone drives like they are fleeing the British. Combine this with no sidewalks and scrawny shoulders and you have an interesting running situation. I had to run down the highway to get to a residential road which circled back to that same highway in short order. Ran down the highway some more to the next residential road, same thing again. Most lovely was that along every residential road, I was barked at by every dog in every yard and chased by no less than two dogs which were roaming loose in their front yards. At one point I was being chased by a doberman pinscher, a beagle and a chihuahua. Clearly, my speedwork is coming along nicely.
After my run cum terrified dash through an Alfred Hitchcock movie come to life, we headed for the Doubletree Lowell. Turns out to be a massive brick property along the canal in downtown Lowell. Lowell is a beautiful little town if you ever get a chance to visit. I enjoyed my time there as much as any I spent in Boston. Met up with Rebecca and bridesmaids for photos. Had some fabulous lighting, overcast and flat but not too cool. Rebecca climbed over the chain and we shot some pictures on the brick butress adjacent to the canal with little waterfalls in the background. Then we were off to the ceremony site for more pictures. They were married at the Textile History Museum and it was an awesome space. The rest of the day was filled with much conjugal bliss and bad dancing by white folk. I did my share. Viola and I boogied down to all the classic wedding tunes. Even the food was good.
So Rebecca and Roland are married and the past week has had me witness two old and dear friends as happy as I have seen them. What more could I ask for? Well, how about a fabulous run through a history-laden, monument-filled, old mill town on Sunday morning. After that we were off to Salem to hang a witch or two. Salem was everything we expected and more. We spent most of our afternoon at the House of Seven Gables and walking around the downtown area.
Every little town we pass through seems to just ooze history. Every place has their little claim to fame. It's kinda cute. It kinda makes me want to move here. I want one of those huge white houses with green shutters and a rolling lawn. We rolled into Newport, RI late last night and are now enjoying the shabby chic of the Newport Marriot which is right on the water (rack rate for our room? a paltry $326 a night). We're moving on to New York after spending the day here. Wish us luck.