So, although I attempted to be responsible and return to my home in the desert yesterday, it was not possible and so I was treated to one more day in the magnificent city of Boston. I spent some of the day writing (there is so much to get down before it’s gone) but then in mid-afternoon, I hopped on the T and headed out to the North End, where I met up with Bri (who had been marching in circles around Bunker Hill all day) and we began eating our way through Little Italy.
We did stop eating figs, pasta and seafood from time to time to do things like peek into churches, windows, sit in gardens, and scamper on docks.
And admire Camaros; I saw THREE beautiful examples last night. They are like Boston Terriers, apparently. Prevalent. This is not wrong.
We’d been to five different places to eat and drink (Ryan joined us for the third-fifth) by the time we gave up and admitted we were full, but Bri was outraged that we had no room for gelato.
We found a public works box painted like a building, which naturally left an opening for a Godzilla moment. Ryan stepped up.
I’m in love with this deep, small, beautiful city. I can’t wait to come back.
Now, off to lunch and to Logan, and home to the hot desert and the cool pool and the softness of a cat who misses me.