Part 1
Thanksgiving weekend was an opportunity to get away and have a look at where we are so I arranged a trip to Boston for the weekend, but before we left we spent Thanksgiving (Thursday) at home having a pyjama day watching TV. Yasmin helped Ahmed make pancakes for breakfast while we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. By the time that was finished it was time for me to start cooking lunch. I skipped the idea of a whole turkey just for the 2 and ½ of us and bought a piece of a turkey. I roasted that up with baked potatoes, candied yams and vege. True to the spirit of the local tradition of last minute preparations, I made canned turkey gravy, and for what reason I don’t know, opened a can of cranberry jelly – a big 410g can of it. I’m the only one that eats it and then only a tiny bit. So there’s 405g of cranberry jelly still sitting in our fridge. Perhaps its waiting to see if there’s going to be a Christmas turkey. I know Thanksgiving is about pilgrims, native Americans and harvest and being thankful etc. but it’s not a history I’m familiar with so it feels like little more than an excuse for a long weekend and a practice run for the gluttony that is Christmas. After snacks and a turkey lunch we were too stuffed for dessert. So we ate pumpkin pie for dinner that night, also compliments of America’s obsession with convenience. I used a bought ready-to-bake pie shell, a can of pumpkin puree, eggs, cream and spices, baked it next to the roasting turkey, and served it with the worst whipped cream ever. Not that I didn’t try to do better. I bought the thickest whipping cream I could find, whipped it myself, and within an hour it had sort of dissolved and gone soft and vapid like the stuff you get out of a can. Didn’t stop me eating it, though can’t say I’ll be keen to do so again.
Next day we actually managed to leave on time for our drive to Boston. I’d spent the week on the internet plotting, planning and scheduling this trip and if we didn’t start out like the plan….
But we did. And it turns out Boston is a very nice three-hour drive or thereabouts. We drove as per the map, at least until we got to the city itself, and stopped for coffee and doughnuts on the way. I’d hoped we’d have lunch at this quaint little Publick House, but I was vetoed by the doughnut lovin’ family, so Dunkin’ Donuts it was. I did get to drive past the Publick House. A big, old inn with a restaurant. Maybe next time.
By lunchtime we were having the first of many, many, ever-more heated discussions about directions as we missed the highway into the city that we were supposed to be on and heated off at some odd angle. There was no need to turn off at all but the highway split and my darling elected to take the left fork, asking me which way right as he’s making the turn. Now when it comes to maps and navigation, as you already know, (I think) I am quite the expert, hampered only by my spouse’s refusal to follow instructions. And if I had a paper map with all the streets marked, not just the ones we are supposed to be on, that might be true. But I didn’t have a proper paper map did I? No. I had a print out of the route map planner from the computer and the wee little electronic map on the palm pilot. Both are awkward but the palm – #$%@! By the time you zoom out, in, across, up or down, you’re a mile past the intersection you were looking for. And I can’t for the life of me flip back and forth between pages on that thing. So as long as we stayed on the correct roads as per the route plan, I had a map. Otherwise, it’s a game of guess-the-destination. Which it mostly was for the entire weekend.
Part 2
Once we got into Boston and circuited the city’s plethora of one-way streets we found a car park building and tried walking. That was little better to start with. As soon as we got going we had to find a restroom. So we headed into the nearest hotel. Turns out it has several entrances and exits, all on different streets. Once we got out, we couldn’t discern north/south from east/west. And there was a distinct nip in the air. A few minutes on a street corner facing different directions and looking quizzically about and eventually we headed in the direction of Boston Common, and fortunately, it was the right direction. Walked around that and through the financial district to Fanueil Hall market area to see what it was. It was a market. Who’d’ve thought. With food outlets. By this time its more than a distinct chill, its cold and we’re hungry so we pay $10 for three tiny hotdogs. Then the crowds started to get annoying so we headed back to the Common to see the skaters on the Frog Pond.
Now its getting damn cold and starting to look like sunset. Yasmin needed a run to warm up as sitting still in the stroller she’d started to freeze, fingers and toes first. But she tripped over a raised flagstone in the pavement and the tears! So we tried to keep her cheerful and warm with a walk. It helped a bit but the playground next to the Frog Pond was and even better idea. A bit of a run around on the play equipment with other kids about worked. Of course then I got cold standing guard on the stroller while she and Ahmed had fun. Now you might think the problem with the temperature was that we’d forgotten to bring coats, but not so. We had our warmest coats, hats, and gloves and it was still cold. I’m sure the only reason it wasn’t snowing was because it was sunny, at least until that disappeared.
We took a photo of the skaters but didn’t wait in the queue to have a go ourselves for all the reasons I’ve mentioned (cold, cold, cold). Instead we walked along Beacon Street to find Cheers. And found it. (For those of you not old enough to remember, it was a TV series in the 1980s that spawned Frasier.) If we’d known kids were allowed, we’d have had our hotdogs there, but instead we had a photo outside under the sign then walked back across the Common to start looking for the car park building. Not so easy. Couldn’t find it, but did find the hotel we’d had our rest stop in. Round and round and upside down, eventually it’s visible. We pay before collecting our car then spend so long in the car park looking at the laptop map to try and figure the way to our hotel that the parking ticket expires. Here we are again right in the middle of another domestic ‘moment’. Thankfully the garage attendant/security guard was of generous nature and not only let us out but helped us work out where we were and directed us to the hotel. Ah, the kindness of strangers.
However, following his directions turned out to be another challenge altogether.
Part 3
The bit of town we were in isn’t a neat grid pattern where the one-way streets make sense. It’s some horrific, scarified version of a circle, outside of which are the most enormous road works which will one day grow up to be a grand and beautiful connection of highway interchanges. For now it’s a nightmare of rubble, closed entry and exit points, missing signage and peculiar detouring. This was what we tried to negotiate in the dark, with an inadequate set of directions, an even worse map and two frayed tempers, which were not helped by the back seat driver “go that way Dad” (at her age!) We found ourselves on some rickety-looking double highway – we were on the bottom and people were driving on the road above us and couldn’t get off. There were no exits. We couldn’t see in the dark, but it turned out we were over a very wide waterway, where the river meets the sea. Just as well we didn’t turn off, might have got wet.
At the point where I’m beginning to think we’re halfway to the Canadian border, Ahmed turns off into a suburb, and almost gets it right. But we missed the next turn and find ourselves in a typical local street with houses decorated for the holidays and a corner store. But no hotel. More map consultation, though by this time I’m not sure why we haven’t worked out that it’s pointless, a quick u-turn and a right onto the main artery and we’re getting close. Two miles past the street we were supposed to turn at, we stop again, consult that map thing again, another u-turn, another right and oh, looky-there, a hotel. In the middle of nowhere. It was surrounded by vacant lots that needed mowing and an industrial area on the other side. The side our window looked out on it turns out. No wonder the rooms were cheap. But with temperatures arctic and patience worn out, a quick check-in, a hotel dinner (nice but the atmosphere was way too posh for the food or the clientele), and a hot cup of hotel tea made in the coffee maker (a new skill to add to my culinary repertoire), we all happily snuggled down to watch TV and congratulate each other on a nice first day of the holiday.
