This morning we took our trolley bus over to North End to seek out Paul Revere's house. This seemingly simple goal took us well over one hour, and given that by then we still had not located it we decided to grab an early lunch in Little Italy. When we stopped to consult one of our many useless maps, we were hustled by a Tibetan monk in orange robes wearing sneakers and a dirty beige sunhat. I've been hustled by many people over the years, but never anyone purporting to be Buddhist, so this came as a disappointment to me.
Soon after entering Little Italy's main eat-street, North Street, we were attracted to a high quality 'hole in the wall' sandwich bar that was down a long 900mm narrow laneway and around a corner. Extraordinary food, with moist salami and huge vats of giant bocconcini, and octopus and stuffed peppers swimming in olive oil. But nowhere decent to sit, other than an outdoor patio in the burning sun, so that's where we had to go. Luckily we only ordered two 'sandwiches' between us, as it turned out they were 12 inch long baguettes. We sat there, eating our delicious lunch, while the skin on our shoulders sizzled. There was nothing we could do. All the sunblock in the world could only take the edge off it.
Next we resumed our search for Paul Revere's House, and did circles of a few blocks, before it dawned on us where it might be. Just as I was about to turn back and give up on the street I thought was absolutely it, Laurie encouraged me to go up a bit further. Hey presto! It was just around the bend. Paul Revere was associated with the sons of liberty and is the hero of the American Revolution. The house he lived his life in, with his two concurrent wives and 16 children, was built in 1680 and is the oldest surviving house in Boston Central, and the only example of 17th century domestic architecture in the city. I found it profoundly interesting. It's been carefully presented since 1908 as a partly preserved and partly restored showcase of life in the years soon after it's creation. Every room has (at least) four walls and they all go off at irregular angles, and the floors creak and heave like an old tub at sea. I really liked it.
Out in the side yard again, just when my loved ones thought we were good to go, I announced the great news: Another heritage house just next door... Boston's oldest surviving brick home, built 1711, the Pierce/Hichborn House. I expressed an interest and they sent the curator straight over to give us a private guided tour for $2 each. It was really good, and I must write and thank Eileen.
Thereafter we returned to explore some backstreets full of Italian foodie places, hoping to locate a pastry shop that made decent cannoli's. We found Bova's Bakery, a huge corner pastry store that had function sized quantities of dozens and dozens of different types of sweet pastries. If they really move that much stock each day, they simply must be wholesalers to the hospitality industry. To devour our cannoli from a seated position, we walked up to the park that sits over the underground expressways. This whole grassed and treed area, with its walkways and shallow water features is hailed as a great urban success story for the city and its liveability. It's reduced air and noise pollution dramatically, given city workers a healthy environment to take breaks in, and cleared traffic congestion completely.
Then, we went underground to get a train. After taking a wrong changeover we had to backtrack a bit, but eventually we made our way to Kendall Station where we thought we'd find MIT (Massachusetts Institute of Technology). Upon arrival, we bought a horribly diluted iced coffee (that's the only type they know how to make here) and then promptly marched off in the wrong direction, found nothing at all, so decided it was far too hard, and that Harvard was more important. If only these places had street signage for newcomers!
Just as we got back to the Station, I realised I could see a whole lot of people buzzing about further up another long street. I strong armed my loved ones into traipsing up there, on the promise we'd just peek around only one place. That turned out to be the MIT Press Bookstore. Oh my Lord! This bookstore was ugly as sin from the outside, but an absolute treasure box inside. I had to buy two little books. How could I not? Their architectural and urban studies sections were sizeable. In fact, that's all I could see, so I was extremely happy.
We then returned to the 'outward bound' station entry, and continued on to Harvard. More on that later...
No comments:
Post a Comment