girls' trip ii, boston
Our time in Boston was short (just over a day!), but so lovely. We had admittedly high expectations, given our family's history with the city: my maternal grandfather is from Haverhill, MA, but moved to Boston to study at Gordon College where he would meet my Canadian grandmother (his French teacher... but that's another story for another day!)- and my own dad spent some time during his youth living in Belmont, a Bostonian suburb. I have been told again and again how charming the city is, and I have been waiting to go for years. It truly didn't disappoint. Where New York City's magic stems from her bustling energy and gregarious personality, Boston enchanted us with her nostalgic colonial-era landmarks and slower culture.
New Englanders, especially Bostonians, are conceptualized as cold and unfriendly- but I would argue 'reserved' better describes them. They respect space and privacy, yet are kind and thoughtful when conversation sparks. Frankly, I find them to be quite similar to Montrealers in their buttoned-up demeanor which, under the surface, hides much conviviality. Another thing they have in common: neighborhood pride. It would seem that to be a Bostonian means to be a proud Bostonian, which is always sweet to witness as a visitor.
We stayed in Cambridge, right across the Charles River. Upon arriving in the late afternoon, we wandered Cambridge's streets amongst Harvard and MIT students. Cambridge was quaint and welcoming, with many coffeehouses and dusty bookshops. Both campus grounds were utterly impressive and bursting with history, and we couldn't help but think of the many important figures that emerged from these institutions. Had we more time, I would have loved to visit Julia Child's House (my favourite!), Harvard's Museum of Natural History and Art Museums, grab a cup of joe at Curio Coffee or Tatte, get a box of Mike's Pastry's famous cannolis, and enjoy some brunch at Noca Provisions - alas, time ran out and we kept our schedule minimally charged.
Of course, when strolling by MIT, we snapped a picture and sent it to Grand-Papa who taught engineering there for a time in the late 1970s. Back then, he probably could not have fathomed that his two grand-daughters would visit that very place, four decades later. Funny how life plays itself.
While mom rested, Laurianne and I found did find a coffee shop in Cambridge, Caffè Nero, which unfortunately turned out to be a chain rather than a local spot with artisanal coffee. Regardless, it was near our hotel, offered good Italian blends, and provided the ideal space to get some work done. We grabbed some dinner, courtesy of Trader Joe's (my first time ever, can you believe it?!) and called it a day. Cambridge, like Montreal, was beautiful at night with its lights and lively streets- there's something about those University towns, isn't there?!
The next day, we took the "T" (not called the subway in Boston!) into the city. We started off in Beacon Hill which was unquestionably our favorite neighborhood, with its cobblestone streets and brick rowhouses and black exterior shutters and decked out window boxes. Beacon Hill dripped with history and endless charm, and I found myself saying "I want to live in this house- or, this one- oh, no that one over there!" all morning.
Going up and down the zigzag of idyllic streets, we also took a peek into a few boutiques here and there. What stood out: Salon, a gallery and showroom which mainly features female designers and artists from around the world, and its lovely coffeeshop (funnily enough, the very kind owner of the shop just so happened to come from a small town in Ontario where my dad taught in the local University a few years ago!). Likewise, the blooms in Rouvalis Flowers were absolutely breathtaking.
We meandered all the way to Boston's Public Garden, where we found the duckling statues inspired by Robert McCloskey's famous children's book Make Way for Ducklings, read to Laurianne and me by our mama when we were little, and read to our mama by her mama when she was little. It brought back tender memories.
We then strolled through the Boston Common, with glistening snow beneath us and the bluest of skies above. We watched ice skaters dance on the frozen pond and listened as bells of Park Street Church chimed gleefully. Slowly, we made our way up the park and toward downtown- passing by trendy clothing stores and historic buildings such as the Old South Meeting House (where the Boston Tea party was born).
Eventually, we made it to Fineul Hall and Quincy Market. Street performers played on a trashcan drumline along with lively percussions, their music and rhythms saturating the space in spiritedness and festivity.
In the market, we found a counter serving the quintessential Bostonian meal of lobster roll and clam chowder - far and away, the best I have ever had - which we devoured while chatting with the kind cook, who excitedly disclosed his favourite things about the city.
Perhaps one of the things I loved most about Boston was its residents' accent, the fast speech and peculiar use of the letter "r" (car pronounced cah, pasta pronounced pahster, etc. etc.). Not only is the accent one of the most fun around, but it also reminds me of my Grandpa and his Bostonian enunciation of words, so often met with laughter and confusion (and a fair dose of teasing). I found myself missing him as I overhead locals talking amongst themselves.
Boston's appeal left us wanting much more, and I am already planning the things I hope to explore next time I visit (Old North Church, the Boston Public Market followed by a picnic somewhere along the harbor, a walk through Copley Square, Boston cream pie at the Omni Parker house- where it was invented!- or ice cream scoops at J.P. Licks , an afternoon at the Museum of Fine Arts and the New England Aquarium). The options are endless. Given how close Montréal, New York City and Boston all are, I don't doubt we'll be back - perhaps for another girls' trip one day.
We were reluctant to leave, but eager to find dad who awaited us impatiently at home. One thing is for sure: we will remember Boston, the city poised at the crossroads of innovation and days of old.
For honesty's sake, I should add that Boston drivers succeeded in bringing out the worst in all three of us - but, by the time we made it out of the city after grueling hours of traffic, we were already laughing about it.
I've yet to shake off my awe of our trip, and have been feasting on the innumerable digital and mental snapshots taken of our precious moments spent together around New England.
New Englanders, especially Bostonians, are conceptualized as cold and unfriendly- but I would argue 'reserved' better describes them. They respect space and privacy, yet are kind and thoughtful when conversation sparks. Frankly, I find them to be quite similar to Montrealers in their buttoned-up demeanor which, under the surface, hides much conviviality. Another thing they have in common: neighborhood pride. It would seem that to be a Bostonian means to be a proud Bostonian, which is always sweet to witness as a visitor.
We stayed in Cambridge, right across the Charles River. Upon arriving in the late afternoon, we wandered Cambridge's streets amongst Harvard and MIT students. Cambridge was quaint and welcoming, with many coffeehouses and dusty bookshops. Both campus grounds were utterly impressive and bursting with history, and we couldn't help but think of the many important figures that emerged from these institutions. Had we more time, I would have loved to visit Julia Child's House (my favourite!), Harvard's Museum of Natural History and Art Museums, grab a cup of joe at Curio Coffee or Tatte, get a box of Mike's Pastry's famous cannolis, and enjoy some brunch at Noca Provisions - alas, time ran out and we kept our schedule minimally charged.
Of course, when strolling by MIT, we snapped a picture and sent it to Grand-Papa who taught engineering there for a time in the late 1970s. Back then, he probably could not have fathomed that his two grand-daughters would visit that very place, four decades later. Funny how life plays itself.
While mom rested, Laurianne and I found did find a coffee shop in Cambridge, Caffè Nero, which unfortunately turned out to be a chain rather than a local spot with artisanal coffee. Regardless, it was near our hotel, offered good Italian blends, and provided the ideal space to get some work done. We grabbed some dinner, courtesy of Trader Joe's (my first time ever, can you believe it?!) and called it a day. Cambridge, like Montreal, was beautiful at night with its lights and lively streets- there's something about those University towns, isn't there?!
The next day, we took the "T" (not called the subway in Boston!) into the city. We started off in Beacon Hill which was unquestionably our favorite neighborhood, with its cobblestone streets and brick rowhouses and black exterior shutters and decked out window boxes. Beacon Hill dripped with history and endless charm, and I found myself saying "I want to live in this house- or, this one- oh, no that one over there!" all morning.
Going up and down the zigzag of idyllic streets, we also took a peek into a few boutiques here and there. What stood out: Salon, a gallery and showroom which mainly features female designers and artists from around the world, and its lovely coffeeshop (funnily enough, the very kind owner of the shop just so happened to come from a small town in Ontario where my dad taught in the local University a few years ago!). Likewise, the blooms in Rouvalis Flowers were absolutely breathtaking.
We meandered all the way to Boston's Public Garden, where we found the duckling statues inspired by Robert McCloskey's famous children's book Make Way for Ducklings, read to Laurianne and me by our mama when we were little, and read to our mama by her mama when she was little. It brought back tender memories.
We then strolled through the Boston Common, with glistening snow beneath us and the bluest of skies above. We watched ice skaters dance on the frozen pond and listened as bells of Park Street Church chimed gleefully. Slowly, we made our way up the park and toward downtown- passing by trendy clothing stores and historic buildings such as the Old South Meeting House (where the Boston Tea party was born).
Eventually, we made it to Fineul Hall and Quincy Market. Street performers played on a trashcan drumline along with lively percussions, their music and rhythms saturating the space in spiritedness and festivity.
In the market, we found a counter serving the quintessential Bostonian meal of lobster roll and clam chowder - far and away, the best I have ever had - which we devoured while chatting with the kind cook, who excitedly disclosed his favourite things about the city.
Perhaps one of the things I loved most about Boston was its residents' accent, the fast speech and peculiar use of the letter "r" (car pronounced cah, pasta pronounced pahster, etc. etc.). Not only is the accent one of the most fun around, but it also reminds me of my Grandpa and his Bostonian enunciation of words, so often met with laughter and confusion (and a fair dose of teasing). I found myself missing him as I overhead locals talking amongst themselves.
Boston's appeal left us wanting much more, and I am already planning the things I hope to explore next time I visit (Old North Church, the Boston Public Market followed by a picnic somewhere along the harbor, a walk through Copley Square, Boston cream pie at the Omni Parker house- where it was invented!- or ice cream scoops at J.P. Licks , an afternoon at the Museum of Fine Arts and the New England Aquarium). The options are endless. Given how close Montréal, New York City and Boston all are, I don't doubt we'll be back - perhaps for another girls' trip one day.
We were reluctant to leave, but eager to find dad who awaited us impatiently at home. One thing is for sure: we will remember Boston, the city poised at the crossroads of innovation and days of old.
For honesty's sake, I should add that Boston drivers succeeded in bringing out the worst in all three of us - but, by the time we made it out of the city after grueling hours of traffic, we were already laughing about it.
I've yet to shake off my awe of our trip, and have been feasting on the innumerable digital and mental snapshots taken of our precious moments spent together around New England.
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