A Day (and Night) of Freedom in Boston

Don and I celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary a few weeks late with an overnight trip to Boston the second weekend of October. It was the first time we'd been away as just a couple since Sarah came home. She wasn't too pleased with being left behind at Grammy's, but we figured it was time. :)

We drove to Boston Common, parked in the garage beneath it, and had lunch in front of the Massachusetts State House. It was a beautiful day -- already near 70 by noon. From the Common, we followed the Freedom Trail, a 2.5-mile walking tour of historic sites associated with the American Revolution.

Massachusetts State House

Granary Burying Ground, with the graves of John Hancock, Paul Revere, and Mary (a.k.a. Mother?) Goose.

Old City Hall with statue of Benjamin Franklin

Monument to the Boston Massacre (which, interestingly enough, was only five men)

Statue of Samuel Adams in front of Faneuil Hall

Paul Revere's home in the North End

City street in the North End (Italian restaurants everywhere, and I captured a shot of a 7-11...ugh.)

Statue of Paul Revere with the Old North Church behind

Inside the Old North Church -- I love the pews with doors and the high pulpit with a little covering.

Old North Church steeple, where, on April 18, 1775, the church sexton hung two lanterns to signal to Paul Revere, waiting on the other side of the Charles, that the British were coming by sea.

Crossing over the Charles River to Charlestown

The USS Constitution ("Old Ironsides"), the oldest commissioned warship afloat in the world, launched in 1797 and famous for withstanding blows from British cannon balls in the War of 1812. A sailor right out of boot camp gave a rousing talk about the ship's history, then we went below decks.

Bunker Hill Monument, commemorating the first major battle of the Revolution, on June 17, 1775.

After we finished the trail, we walked back to the garage, got our suitcase, and headed for our Airbnb in Beacon Hill. It was a lovely walk, but the narrow sidewalks and brick streets are not very roller-friendly.

It was our first time using Airbnb. Don was a little leery, but I convinced him to give it a try. The chance to stay right in Boston at a reasonable price was too tempting to pass up. 

Our stay went smoothly, once we got in. The host had given me a code for a lock box located on the door jamb outside the apartment building and said, "Retrieve the fob, which you will use to enter the building during your stay." Retrieving the fob went fine, but then we didn't know what to do with it. It took us a few minutes to figure out that we needed to pass it in front of a sensor to unlock the door. We were novices! (Don, who had never heard the term fob before, kept calling it an F.O.B.)

The accomodations were stylish, clean, and comfortable, with a bedroom and bathroom on the first floor and a kitchen/dining room/sitting room down a spiral staircase in the basement. It was obvious that the host didn't live there; it must have been owned by a property management company of some sort.

After getting settled, we walked along Cambridge Street to Beacon Street in search of a place for dinner. Without a reservation, we were lucky to get a table at Artu, an Italian trattoria below street level. It was cozy, and the staff were entertaining. I had lobster ravioli and shrimp; neither of us can remember what Don had, but he says it was good. :)

After dinner, we went bar-hopping until the wee hours. Just kidding. We returned to the apartment,  discovered we had only basic cable and HBO, watched a documentary about Steven Spielberg, and went to bed.  

In the morning, Don went out for bagels (at Finagle a Bagel -- what a great name!) while I got ready. We left the apartment mid-morning and walked back to Boston Common, which was full of happy dogs enjoying their Sunday. 

We decided to return home via Route 2 and stop at Walden Pond, made famous by Henry David Thoreau's book of the same name and now a state park. By the time we got there, it was pouring rain. We toured the small visitor center and checked out the model of Thoreau's tiny cabin, where he lived in solitude for two years in the mid-1800s.  

Don was disheartened to see lots of swimmers returning from the pond, a sacred place to those who revere Thoreau. He likened his feelings to mine, when we saw climbers on Devil's Tower in Wyoming years ago -- it seems so disrespectful. I was frustrated that two guys were sitting in the cabin, one of them on his phone, the whole time we were there, so I couldn't get a photo of the inside.

We arrived back at my mom's in the early afternoon. Sarah was happy to see us, and vice versa. It was wonderful to get away as a couple, but I can assure you her absence was felt. We are a threesome; she completes us.