China Girls Reunite!

We caught up with our China family in Boston at the end of June/beginning of July. It had been four years since we'd gathered, but the girls picked up right where they left off and had such fun together. It was a treat to spend time with these special people; our families have an unbreakable bond.

I spent the previous few months putting together an itinerary that I thought would work for everyone. The others were easy to please and willing to go along with my plans. I chose a hotel in Charlestown, right over the Leonard P. Zakim Bunker Hill Memorial Bridge and beside the USS Constitution.

We drove from Western Mass on Thursday afternoon, taking the Impreza for ease of city driving and parking. That is, of course, except for the stick shift. Don was at the wheel, and I was the navigator, our standard set-up. 

It was smooth sailing on I-91, the turnpike, and Memorial Drive through MIT. We were less than a mile from the hotel when things started happening quickly and I couldn't keep up with Google Maps. I called a right turn a little early, and before we knew it we were on Rte. 1 North headed over the Tobin Bridge. Ruh-roh.

Don went silent, and not the good kind of silent. I tried to stay calm as the Constitution flew by on our right and reconfigured Maps. We got off in Chelsea and navigated our way down city streets to head back south. We nailed it on the second try and were soon parked in the Nautica garage, a short walk from the hotel. All was well.

Soon after checking in, our group gathered in the lobby and exchanged hugs and handshakes. Sarah was in heaven. We walked to dinner at Blackmoor Bar & Kitchen, just up from the hotel. The hostess kindly seated us in the private back room, girls -- plus Jaden's younger brother Warren -- at one end of the table and parents at the other. Sarah took advantage of the separation to order a Shirley Temple against Don's dictate.

After dinner, we hung out on the back deck of the hotel, which was right on the Inner Harbor. The teens played games and fooled around while the parents chatted. Don and I headed to our room sometime after 8, and Sarah went to Emack & Bolio's for ice cream with the others.

Friday morning started early and poorly for Don, when he discovered the in-room coffee maker didn't work ... and there was no coffee service in the lobby at such an hour. He jury-rigged a solution in the kitchenette of our suite that used nearly every utensil at his disposal, while Sarah tried to sleep on the pull-out couch.

Breakfast in the lobby was crowded, but we found a quiet conference room to eat together. Sarah made waffles, with partial success.

We caught the Old Town Trolley in front of the Charlestown Navy Yard and set off with our guide, Papa Jim. Sarah was excited to see TD Garden, where the Bruins and Celtics play. We cruised past the Old State House, through Beacon Hill and Back Bay, past the "Cheers" bar, the Prudential Center, the Boston Public Library, and the Public Garden, and got off in front of the State House to walk some of the Freedom Trail.

Most of the group headed for the Old Granary Burial Ground, while Don went in search of a bathroom. I stayed behind to wait for him, and when he struck out, we decided to go to the State House. Some activists outside asked us to write post cards to the governor regarding fossil fuels, so we took cards and a pen and headed inside, promising to return.

After finding the restrooms, filling out our post cards, and checking out the rotunda, we exited where we'd entered and delivered the goods to the activists. They were thrilled! They probably didn't expect to see us, or their pens, again.

Don and I set off to find the others, texting Sarah for their latest location. They were still at the burial grounds, but we veered off course and ended up at the old public school. As we reconnoitered on Maps, Sarah texted that they had moved across the street to the Beantown Pub. It wasn't even 11:00 yet!

We found the group at some tables in the back, the girls just ordering drinks. Sarah asked if she could get an iced mocha latte. That sounded darned good, so I said, "Sure, I want one, too." It was the best iced coffee I've ever had! Sarah liked hers, too.

We ended up ordering lunch and staying for a couple of hours, sitting in cliques of men, women, and girls to chat. Poor Warren sat by himself on his phone.

After lunch, we headed for Faneuil Hall. Tara wanted to see the Old State House and the Boston Massacre medallion, so a few of us went that way then met up with the others enjoying a busking acrobat in front of Quincy Market.

We hung out in the outdoor space for a while, with various subgroups breaking away to shop. Don and I walked through Quincy Market and out the other side, where we found a woman playing an electronic violin. We sat and enjoyed the music before returning to the others, where Sarah said, "Everyone wants to know why you two keep going off by yourselves. I told them you're introverts." 😆

Some had had enough walking and history, so they Ubered back to the hotel. Tara, Allie, Grace, Andy, Madeline, Mia, Don, Sarah, and I soldiered on along the Freedom Trail, through the Boston Public Market, across the Rose Kennedy Greenway, to the North End. We stopped at Paul Revere's house and Paul Revere Mall. We passed Old North Church but didn't go in, since they were requesting a $5 donation.

After a rest at Copps Hill Burial Ground, we headed across the Zakim Bridge and back to the hotel. The girls wanted to go swimming, and I hung out by the (very small) pool and hot tub with them.

I'd made dinner reservations for 5:00 at La Famiglia Giorgio's in the North End. Some of us opted to walk back over the bridge, while others Ubered. We were greeted by the Italian matriach, and the hostess escorted us up the dark, narrow stairs to two long tables at the front of the restaurant.

The meal was delicious. I got a walnut and gorgonzola salad and shared Sarah's fettucini alfredo. We still had to take some back to the hotel!

After dinner, we strolled the North End and wound up at Mike's Pastry. The line wound back and forth inside and down the sidewalk outside. Don and I kept walking, until we noticed everyone else had stopped. Soon, they were in line, including Sarah. We waited on the sidewalk or in the street, whichever was less crowded at the moment. It was a happening scene, complete with guys doing wheelies on street bikes.

The line moved surprisingly quickly. We learned why when Bret emerged shell-shocked because the woman behind the counter had barked at him to order. Sarah got a slice of chocolate mousse cake.

After walking back over the bridge to the hotel, folks gathered in the lobby to enjoy their pastries, while Don and I peeled off and went for ice cream. We walked around the waterfront and by the Constitution with our cones. Once again, Don and I headed upstairs early, while Sarah stayed in the lobby with everyone.

On Saturday, we met for breakfast in the conference room, then the Uber-savvy folks (Bret, Erin, Rusty, Georgette, Andy, and Madeline) arranged rides to the New England Aquarium. Smoke from the wildfires in northern Canada muted the skyline, as this photo from the Boston Globe shows.

We toured the aquarium, with Don and me bringing up the rear. The girls seemed to enjoy the Giant Ocean Tank that the walkway curls around. The sea turtles were majestic, and the moray eel was terrifying. Most of us took in an Imax movie about blue whales.

After the movie, the group headed off to find a lunch spot, Don and me trailing behind. We ended up at the Bostonia Public House, upstairs. The adults sat around the bar, and the girls sat off to the side. Warren sat by himself at a table. Sarah had yogurt and granola, and Don and I shared a cheese board.

Next up was a Duck Boat Tour, leaving from the aquarium. We had a little time kill, so Don and watched tour boats and ferries come in and out of Long Wharf, beside the aquarium. The others hung out in the shade at nearby park.

The Duck Boat tour was fun, and the ConDUCKtor offered an entertaining mix of facts, fiction, and groan-worthy one-liners. We passed some of the same places we'd seen on the trolley tour, but I was pleased to catch a glimpse of the new sculpture on the Boston Common dedicated to Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., and Coretta Scott King: "The Embrace."

Then we drove into the Charles River by the Boston Museum of Science and made a loop up under the Longfellow Bridge and back. When the guide asked if anyone wanted to drive the boat, Sarah, Allie, and Mia were game.

Once back at the aquarium, it was time to head to dinner in Chinatown. There was some disagreement about whether to walk or Uber. Walking won out, with Bret leading the way, and the Uber enthusiasts -- Georgette, Erin, and Madeline -- quickly fell behind. There were some tense moments, but we all got there.

After a little shopping at a gift store called Essex Corner -- I got a new lucky cat that waves, and the girls each got a corded bracelet -- we went to Peach Farm for dinner. The good news was, they had a big round table with a lazy Susan in the center reserved for us. The bad news was, it was set for 14, instead of 15. We squeezed in another chair.

Dinner was a series of mishaps. First, the server wore a mask, which, coupled with her limited English, made her nearly impossible to understand. Then, Sarah found a bug on her plate, and Georgette spilled her Coke. 

When she learned they didn't have dumplings (how can that be?), Sarah decided to be adventurous and ordered wonton soup and chicken udon instead of her trusty standbys, a spring roll and chicken fried rice.  She didn't like either one and spent the rest of the meal trying everyone else's dishes and taking lots of good-natured ribbing about her limited exposure to Chinese cuisine.

When the server brought the check, she handed it to Andy. He took one look and said, "I can't read this." Bret said, "Hand it over; I can read it." He took one look, saw it was in Chinese, and realized he had been overconfident. When Georgette insisted on having a look, Andy asked if it was in Mississippi Mandarin. In the end, it was pretty easy to decipher, since the orders were grouped by family.

After dinner, the Zottis called an Uber; it appeared instantly; and we jumped in with them. Back at the hotel, we organized a group photo on the deck. Tara set up her phone on a timer and gamely darted back and forth for numerous takes. 

Don then offered to buy ice cream, and we set off for Emack & Bolio's. He and Mia nearly came to blows over who was paying. She's a formidable adversary!

As always, Don and I headed upstairs before everyone else, and soon I heard fireworks. I could see them out the window. The rest of the group enjoyed the show from the deck. Turns out they were launched from a barge at Long Wharf, where we'd been earlier in the day.

Sunday morning, we joined everyone but the Hawkins family -- they had an early flight -- for breakfast once again. We said our goodbyes, checked out, and headed for the parking garage a block away. It was raining, and Don soon fell behind. Sarah and I walked briskly past the vehicle access to the garage, looking for the door to the stairwell we'd come out on Thursday.

When we'd gone all the way around with no luck, we turned back and walked up a side terrace. After a few minutes, Don stuck his head out a door off to the side and called to us. He had gone in through the vehicle entrance, of course, then come looking for us.

We exited the garage and followed Maps to I-93 South. So far, so good. I was navigating once again and thankful it was Sunday morning. We were in the Tip O'Neill Tunnel, and I was looking back and forth from my phone to the road signs. As we approached Exit 16A, Don said, "This is my exit, right?" I took another look at the phone and said, "No." He quickly moved to the travel lane and avoided the exit. Then we both realized I was wrong, AGAIN!

We got off the next exit -- I can't even tell you what that was, and I've studied the map -- reversed course, and headed north, in silence. Once on the turnpike, I could breathe again.

Notwithstanding the arrival and departure, the reunion was perfect. So many laughs and memories shared and made. I hope we'll see each other again sooner than four years from now. 

Sarah's already talking about the day the girls will gather without the parents! I told her the parents always have to be invited; I would really miss the experience of being with these folks.