World's Fair of Money, Day 2, part 2 (visit with Clea)
Late Thursday afternoon, I returned to the hotel to meet clea_s with whom I lost touch years ago and reconnected with on Facebook. I couldn't have been more delighted to see her. Our plan was to walk as much of the Freedom Trail together as we could, then head to her place for dinner together with her husband.
Our first stop was Boston Common, where I picked up a guide book to the Freedom Trail. (I'd actually researched what was available and chose the one I'd read that seemed to include the most information; it's packed with great historical details.) And then we followed the red-painted road (or the red-bricked road as the case happened to be). We spent most of our time at the two old cemeteries on the route, the Granary Burying Ground where several signers of the Declaration of Independence are interred, and King's Chapel Burying Ground, where Boston's oldest graves reside along with some of the most beautiful headstones. One of them read, "May guardian angels watch this sleeping dust, Till time shall haste the rising of the just." We stopped at Benjamin Franklin's statue near the site of the old Latin school and asked a local to photograph us at its base--I'll upload this and other photos when I get home--and then proceeded to visit the Old South Meeting House where the Boston Tea Party got started.
Several things then happened at once: first, I thought I'd lost my cell phone; second, I realized my back was really bothering me and, third, we both realized we were getting hungry. We retraced our steps in search of my phone, then headed back to the hotel--where we found it safely set on my dresser.
At that point, we were off to Cambridge. clea_s took the long way home, showing me MIT, Harvard, and Radcliffe, pointing out neighborhoods in which she'd lived, and generally orienting me to the definite not-Boston-ness of Cambridge. We proceeded then to her triple-decker condo building (apparently there's some contention in the household about whether or not the building is, in fact, a triple-decker; it's easier for me here to say it is just to show you what it sort of looked like).
Her husband J already had the table set for dinner. He showed me out to their spacious back porch facing onto a backyard so lovely it's like a private park, and set out wine and a to-die-for Middle Eastern-style dip. We got to know each other a bit as dusk turned to dark and Clea prepared dinner. Dinner was striped bass and clams with pancetta (mmm-mmm-mmm), served with a tasty, crusty bread, and salad, and a Columbia Crest Sauvignon Blanc that I enjoyed quite a bit. (Though apparently the rose was quite good, I did not get to sample it). From there, we talked until close to midnight.
It was a fabulous end to a nice day and I was purely delighted that we were able to put it together. I hope we'll find a we'll find a way to see each other again before another 30 years pass.
Our first stop was Boston Common, where I picked up a guide book to the Freedom Trail. (I'd actually researched what was available and chose the one I'd read that seemed to include the most information; it's packed with great historical details.) And then we followed the red-painted road (or the red-bricked road as the case happened to be). We spent most of our time at the two old cemeteries on the route, the Granary Burying Ground where several signers of the Declaration of Independence are interred, and King's Chapel Burying Ground, where Boston's oldest graves reside along with some of the most beautiful headstones. One of them read, "May guardian angels watch this sleeping dust, Till time shall haste the rising of the just." We stopped at Benjamin Franklin's statue near the site of the old Latin school and asked a local to photograph us at its base--I'll upload this and other photos when I get home--and then proceeded to visit the Old South Meeting House where the Boston Tea Party got started.
Several things then happened at once: first, I thought I'd lost my cell phone; second, I realized my back was really bothering me and, third, we both realized we were getting hungry. We retraced our steps in search of my phone, then headed back to the hotel--where we found it safely set on my dresser.
At that point, we were off to Cambridge. clea_s took the long way home, showing me MIT, Harvard, and Radcliffe, pointing out neighborhoods in which she'd lived, and generally orienting me to the definite not-Boston-ness of Cambridge. We proceeded then to her triple-decker condo building (apparently there's some contention in the household about whether or not the building is, in fact, a triple-decker; it's easier for me here to say it is just to show you what it sort of looked like).
Her husband J already had the table set for dinner. He showed me out to their spacious back porch facing onto a backyard so lovely it's like a private park, and set out wine and a to-die-for Middle Eastern-style dip. We got to know each other a bit as dusk turned to dark and Clea prepared dinner. Dinner was striped bass and clams with pancetta (mmm-mmm-mmm), served with a tasty, crusty bread, and salad, and a Columbia Crest Sauvignon Blanc that I enjoyed quite a bit. (Though apparently the rose was quite good, I did not get to sample it). From there, we talked until close to midnight.
It was a fabulous end to a nice day and I was purely delighted that we were able to put it together. I hope we'll find a we'll find a way to see each other again before another 30 years pass.