karaokegal (karaokegal) wrote,

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Trip report-New York and Boston-Part 5

Trip report-Part 1
Trip report-Part 2

Trip report-Part 3

Trip report-Part 4

Day 5-

One of the best things about living in San Francisco is that I’m never sorry to be leaving anywhere else.

That being said, I really had a great time in Boston and all the people I met were wonderful. I would even consider living there, were it not for the fact that it gets really cold and the more important fact that it’s not San Francisco.

We went for a 7:30AM wake up call so we’d have time to eat breakfast, check out and take the first Harbor Tour boat at 1030AM.

Hubby wanted to do some more shopping as he had gift obligations waiting back at home. A lot of the stores weren’t open yet, but a few were and I ended up buying a small pewter charm. I hunted through an assortment that offered, money, love, friendship, luck, etc, but settled on one with a leaf on one side and the word harmony on the other. That’s the thing I think I really need in my life.

Some women stopped us and asked if we wanted to do a survey about candy. Unfortunately we were afraid we’d literally miss the boat, so we promised we’d do it after the tour, but by the time we’d done everything else and eaten lunch; they were nowhere to be seen.

The Harbor tour was nice and relaxing. Great views of the city and the USS Constitution and some interesting historical information, delivered by a non-accented tour guide who was very concerned about our tax dollars being wasted on some of the waterfront projects, but was very proud of the USS Constitution. Afterwards, we got in a cab and went to see the famous dead people at the Kings Chapel Cemetery and the Granary Burial Grounds. It’s funny to see the tour guides walking around the city in full historical garb and no one looking twice.

Boston made me think a lot about living in a place where the history is so important to the founding of the country. California has history, but it’s a totally different history and it’s as much the history of Mexico as it is of the United States. I’m not going to say I got all weepy about the Revolutionary War, but it made me think about it more than I usually do.

By this time it was getting way hot, so we found a shady patch on Boston Common and split a coke before heading back towards Quincy Market for the lobster that hubby had been looking forward to since we started planning the trip.

We went to Legal Seafoods, right on the harbor, across from the aquarium. I don’t know if it’s the same location of Legal Seafoods I went with my father a zillion years ago, but the name still means something to me because of that trip.

I won’t mention exactly what it costs to eat steamed lobster in front of Boston Harbor but I will say it’s not that different from going to a Broadway show and the lobster doesn’t even sing. Luckily, I was too tired to care and besides we have a policy of pretending that all money spent on vacation is Monopoly money. It’s the only way to enjoy yourself without freaking out over every expenditure.

A little more shopping and it was back to the hotel to pick up bags and get the hell out of Dodge. It felt like the taxi ride took all of ten minutes, as opposed to the 45 minutes to an hour that I’m always advising people. However, American’s check-in kiosks were down so it was all check-in was being done by actual people so it was just as well we had plenty of time.

I tried to con the check-in gal into bumping us up to first class, based on my “Free Business Class” ticket and she conned me by saying she’d put me on the waitlist. When we got to the gate, it turned out we weren’t waitlisted, but it didn’t matter because first was sold out anyway.

By the way, on the two cabin planes, American’s first class isn’t even as good as their business on the three cabins. Just walking through, you could tell it was much smaller, less leg-room etc. That’s nothing compared to the horribly cramped misery of coach.

Possibly the least leg-room I have ever seen on an airplane in my life. The asshole in front of hubby tried to lean back and hubby had to more or less beg him not to. I’ve actually considered how much money it would take to bribe someone not to lean back on a flight. Any ideas? How much would you pay? How much would you take?

So it wasn’t the most comfortable flight home and I was pretty unhappy most of the way in the center seat. I managed to get out the notebook and clean up the two fics I was writing for W.

How bad is American Airlines in coach? Just before landing I started feeling pretty sick, dry heaving and everything and I was scrambling for the barf-bag. They don’t even have airsickness bags in the seat pockets in coach! Hubby managed to find a male flight attendant to get me something and it looked like someone had been drawing on it and there was a piece of used gum inside.

We got to the ground and I did in fact throw up. Hubby really wanted me to hand the bag to the flight attendant, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Anyway---home, sweet home!

Sing it with me people: (Judy Garland version for all my Friends of Dorothy)

I never will forget, Mmmm...Jeanette MacDonald
Just to think of her, it gives my heart a pang
I never will forget, how that brave Jeanette
Just stood there in the ruins and sang, and sang...

San Francisco, open your golden gate
You'll let nobody wait outside your door
San Francisco, here is your wanderin' one
Saying I'll wander no more.

Other places only make me love you best
Tell me you're the one in all the golden west
San Francisco, I'm coming home again
Never to roam again...

San Francisco, right when I arrive
I really come alive...
And you will laugh to see me,
Perpendicular, hanging on a cable car

San Francisco, let me beat my feet
Up and down Market Street
I'm gonna climb Nob Hill, just to watch it get dark
From the top of the mark

There's Brooklyn Bridge, London Bridge,
And the Bridge of San Louis Rey
But the only bridge, that's a real gone bridge,
Is the bridge accross the bay

San Francisco, I'm coming home again,
Never to roam again, by gum
San Francisco, I don't mean Frisco
San Francisco, here I come!
Tags: journal, travel

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