Yesterday at about 3pm we caught the train to Harvard. As soon as we came up for air, it was apparent that we were there. We entered via the main front gates, and went first to Harvard Yard. It was pleasant, but my first impressions were much less 'wow' than I would have anticipated. It's a surprisingly approachable place, at least until you attempt to enter any of the buildings...
There was no signage for anything, no 'you are here' maps and no information officers. From 3.15pm onwards we started asking security staff at the various entrances to discipline buildings, because they seemed the only human faces we could find, yet of course none of them knew anything at all about guided tours, despite the fact that the University offers four to five free guided group tours every day of the year, except Christmas Day... So we dashed from building to building, hoping for a clue or a sign of where this tour started. It was all confirmed as real online, but on the ground, there was no sign of it at all, and certainly no knowledge or awareness of it.
On the steps of a building near an exit by the rear road, we came across a slightly distressed British woman in the same situation, though she'd been circling the joint for over 45 mins already. We joined forces with her and together we went beyond the old walls of the University, down a non-descript private enterprise style street, and at the very end, opposite a fast food mall we made a lucky find: the Harvard University Information Office, barely signed at all. I only recognised it because I've worked in the Higher Education industry for 18 years, and know how strangely bureaucratic these institutions can be, and how they completely lose sight of the obvious, some of the time, so I was alert to all possibilities, however unlikely. So anyway...
We did the one hour tour, with a lovely Afro-American performing arts student, Genevieve. It was really interesting, and our 12 year old was at the front of the tour group, along with three adolescent boys, the whole time - It was sweet to see how tremendously engaged they were. They were all so keen to learn. There was a hint of Harry Potter about it all, which added to the charm. We thoroughly enjoyed learning all about Harvard and it's history.
Afterwards we walked over to one of the main external plaza areas, as we'd made a reservation for dinner at a very cool, experimental 'food as art' sort of restaurant called Alden & Harlow. It was located in the raised basement of Brattle Hall. I had a 'Fashionably Late', stirred, and J had a 'Strawberry Fields' Mocktail. In the U.S. they do non-alcoholic bevvies terrifically well. The service was excellent, ambience perfect and the food was very high quality, of course, but particularly the buckwheat pasta. That just rocked. It was a very pleasant dining experience.
We caught the train home, and popped up out of the oldest subway station in America, the Parks station, on Boston Common, and walked up the hill to our hot little condo. We really love the way Boston Common is a smaller and more intimate version of Central Park in NYC. It's so great staying in this part of the city; the heart of Boston. Having wanted to come here all of my conscious life, it does not disappoint. It's such a walkable city and very manageable for visitors. I think we need one more day here than we actually have, but never mind...
America's first city is a very special place to be, despite the incredibly uneven and dangerous paving all across the city, and the inexplicable proliferation of Dunkin' Donut stores in all sorts of otherwise pristine heritage places...
Showing posts with label Harvard University. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Harvard University. Show all posts
Saturday, 25 June 2016
Friday, 24 June 2016
Boston's North End and a bit on MIT...
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...
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...
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