A travelogue

So, the trip.  WAS EXCELLENT!

Now, keep in mind that we lived just outside of Boston for a year and we only had a night, a full day, and a morning. So, we mostly stuck with visiting favorite places. If we’d had more time, we probably would have gone to new restaurants and places, but I think we were looking more for comfort and familiarity on this trip.

Saturday morning…
All packed, fed the cats, headed to the airport. Flight was leaving from the new international terminal. Want to take a guess at what it was like trying to get through security on Saturday of Memorial weekend (and also the first weekend of summer vacation for a great many school children in the area) in the international terminal of Dallas-Fort Worth airport? But we made it relatively unscathed, and thanks to my obsessive nature, we were early enough to not have to worry too much about the length of the line.

At this point in the story, I should give you some background. My husband hates to fly. He isn’t afraid to fly, he claims, he just doesn’t like not being in control and not knowing the person who is in control. This does not make him a very pleasant travel companion. It makes him tense and cranky. It also means that when the plane on which you will be spending the next three hours is somewhat on the old side with less-than-efficient air conditioning AND full to the rafters with people, well, he gets a bit on edge. Throw in a delay at the gate as they documented a broken seat and a guy sitting behind us with a strong NYC accent talking about how scary it is to land at La Guardia (where we are heading for a plane change) and we are in serious need of adult, alcohol-based beverages.

Since we were in the second to last row of the plane, it took quite some time for those adult, alcohol-based beverages to become available. In the meantime, Mr. NYC just. kept. talking. Loudly. I could give you a brief synopsis of his experiences in buying a Toyota, his feelings about the various potential presidential candidates, and his theories on the best way to travel in Italy. I had my iPod. S did not. For a while, I tried to show my solidarity and kept the earphones off, but one hour in, it was either the iPod or climb over the seat and shove his underseat flotation device into his mouth.

We got to La Guardia, got off the plane, and realized that there wasn’t time to go to a non-moving bathroom because we were at the far end of D-terminal and our commuter flight was leaving from C-terminal. I guess La Guardia is still trying to catch up to the current state of security and going from one terminal to another requires leaving then re-entering a secure area. That means take off the shoes, pull out the laptop, dig out the boarding pass, wait for the people in front of you to figure out what’s going on, shove the laptop back in the backpack, grab the shoes and run in your socks….only to find out that the flight isn’t ready to board yet. Fortunately, the “excitement” distracted S from the fact that we were going to be on a flying school bus for the last bit of our trip. NYC to Boston is a short, short flight. Like don’t bother to get your ears to pop because as soon as you get used to the reduced air pressure, you’ll be heading back down.

The rental car experience at Logan was fun. Apparently, the company with whom we’d rented our car decided that Memorial weekend was the PERFECT time to train all of the new employees. At the same time. I’m not entirely sure there was an experienced employee there at all. Yep. That was fun. But we finally got the car and were on our way.

We did miss our exit and ended up taking a much more um scenic route to our hotel, but that’s ok. Unfortunately, sitting for so long in an uncomfortable middle seat, not getting much to eat or drink, and the general stress had given me a wicked tension/migraine headache.

We got checked in to the hotel and headed to Natick. First, we hit Trader Joe’s. We were staying in one of those extended stay hotels, so we had a kitchenette, and needed breakfast stuff and wine. I miss Trader Joe’s. Then we went for dinner at John Harvard’s. We used to live just a few miles down the road from John Harvard’s and it was our favorite Friday night dinner spot. S is a hard core beer drinker and they brew their own. Ever since we moved back, he’s been on a search for an IPA that he likes as much as their’s, so it HAD to be our first stop. I love their grilled meatloaf. Unfortunately, when you combine heavy, rich food with lots of tylenol and a bad headache, you get nausea. Not what you want for the first night of a vacation, particularly when you have a special fondness for hotel rooms, if you know what I mean.

Back at the hotel, S indulged in that aforementioned blueberry ice cream and peanut butter cookies while I tried to get rid of the headache and finally just had to sleep it off.

Sunday was a new day though. Gorgeous sunny weather. No headache. Breakfast in bed. We planned on taking the T into Cambridge but hadn’t counted on the fact that the commuter rail doesn’t run very often on Sunday, so we drove instead. We managed to find a public parking lot that had a broken ticket machine, so parking was free (and about half the cars in the lot were police cars….figured no one would be messing with the car there!), then we found a fantastic middle eastern restaurant, a cool junk shop, and a second-hand bookstore. After spending a few hours wandering through the stores on Mass Ave. in Cambridge, we drove across the river to Boston. Again, we found a parking space on the street near the Conservatory. Two easy parking spaces! That NEVER happens. We decided to hike to Boston Commons from there. We spent a little time watching the swan boats, a little more time watching a big male Canadian Goose protect his little family from a small fluffy dog, a little more time taking photos of churches and statues and a cemetary, then we parked ourselves on two stools in the window of Starbucks and watched the crowds go by while we drank our coffee. Then, we took the T back to Symphony station, walked the two blocks back to the car and headed back to Waltham.

Dinner had to be Bertucci’s pizza. The Carmine, in particular. Thin crust, roasted tomato sauce, caramelized onions, and fresh mozzarella. I have dreams about this pizza. That and their rolls. Now, I’ll have to add the limoncello martini to the dream, I suppose. Dessert was blueberry ice cream in bed. I won’t go into much detail on that. Let’s just say that if, in 14 or so days by some miracle an hpt showed two lines on it, I’ll be touting the benefits of “just relaxing” “just going on vacation” and blueberry ice cream. (No, I don’t really think anything will come of it in the TTC way…but wouldn’t it be a kick if it did?)

Monday was much more relaxed. We read in bed and had a breakfast of the various leftovers we’d accumulated. Sometimes cold pizza, leftover meatloaf, a glass of red wine, and more ice cream can be a fantastic breakfast. Then, we packed up, checked out, and spent the rest of the morning in a bookstore before heading back home.

The flight back was much more uneventful and the day’s travel was only marred by having to wait almost 40 minutes for the shuttle that would take us to the parking lot where we’d left my car.

It was, quite possibly, the best vacation I’ve ever been on. S and I had no itinerary, no set plans. We just did what felt fun. I wanted to go on the trip because S needed it so badly…needed to relax and play. I hadn’t realized how badly I needed it too. I’m a definite fan of those last minute deals now!