Racing Against the Storm: Day One at Boston

I left on the ninth, the massive storm front that had just dumped 55 inches in Washington, DC only a mere few hundreds miles away and slowly making its way north. Despite the forecasts, I threw caution to the wind and hightailed it out of New York for a four day adventure in Beantown. There was not a cloud in the sky as I opted to take the scenic route through Rhode Island, and do some geocaching along the way. :-D It would in fact be my first ever visit to the state too.

Oh wow... a rock...

Driving towards Newport, RI

Rhode Island was… blah. Although I drove through Newport where all the famous mansions were, Rhode Island didn’t really do anything for me. It just felt… blah. After a few hours of hunting down geocaches here and there, I decided I had seen enough of the state and continued northward. By the time I arrived at Boston it was around 3PM, the sky still as blue as the Caribbean ocean. I was about a day ahead of the storm, and I was determined to start checking out the city as soon as I settled into the hotel and stashed my car safely away at a nearby parking garage.

Boston!

I’m glad I picked the financial district too. It was immaculate, lightly crowded, and the T line was literally right outside the hotel. I bundled up and headed straight for the North End, cutting through Christopher Columbus Park and enjoying the splendid view of the harbor. Before I knew it, I was standing right outside Paul Revere’s House, amazed and awed that I was finding myself walking the same paths and traveling the same roads that so many famous men of history had once been on.

India? Fuhgetaboutit!

Still standing! Now where's my pizza??

Once the sun began to set, I decided it was time to see for myself if the Italian food here (namely the pizza) lived up to the hype. It was time for Santarpios Pizza!

Santarpios was located in East Boston, so I hitched a ride on the blue line over, and promptly got lost from there, even with my GPS. I had gotten out of the stop for Logan’s Airport, but once I got above ground all I saw were a maze of freeways and no clear way through. Santarpios was somewhere out there, but my GPS would not cooperate and insisted I had at least a 2 mile walk ahead of me. I wasn’t willing to do anything more than a half a mile, so next thing I knew I was hopping freeway barriers, dodging an insane amount of traffic moving at breakneck speed, and breathing in the toxic fumes of all the car exhausts before making it to the other side and hoofing it another few city blocks before I finally found the pizza joint.

Man this had BETTER be worth it. I walked in, asked for a booth and was promptly seated. My muscles were aching from climbing the freeway barriers, so I was glad to be able to stretch my legs and relax a bit.

Weird menu by the way. I had never seen one so brief it didn’t even have the option of ordering pizza by the slice. It included choices for the types of pizzas you wanted, and beverages. That was it.

I opted for extra cheese and sausage, and patiently waited. The pizza came after about 10 minutes and I was ready to dig in. I used a knife and fork to cut a piece and savored the moment before I took my first bite, indeed the first bite I would ever take of a pizza made in Boston. And the verdict was…

Meh.

Don’t get me wrong, it was good pizza, spicy and tasty, but there were no heavenly choirs singing, or psychedelic moments that took me to a different level of the astral plane. It was just modestly good pizza. Yes I am in fact a New York snob, deal with it.

I did note that it was so thin you couldn’t really eat a slice by hand, so I had to use a knife and fork for the most part. That’s just weird. It wasn’t until a few minutes when the crust began to harden again that I was able to fold up a slice and eat it by hand. I had another slice or two and then had them bag the rest. Good thing I had cash on me too, because they didn’t accept credit cards either.

Once my food was boxed and ready to go, I bundled up again and braced myself for the walk back to the T line. There had to be some better way to get to it, but rather than use my Garmin GPS, I went to Google Maps on my iPod this time. There appeared to be a park that separated the streets nearby from the T line, so I made a beeline straight for the park, initially discouraged to see that the gates were closed. Undeterred, I kept moving along the fence, until somehow, by the grace of God I was able to find the still open main entrance, which led directly to the subways. The park also afforded me an amazing view of Boston’s skyline in the distance, so I took a moment to take it all in, until I could hear the rumbling of the blue train nearby. I raced ahead and down the stairs, just in time to catch another ride back to the hotel, before the latest episode of Lost would start.

Returning from Wonderland: The Blue Train

After Lost ended, I was all settled in for my first night, enjoying the view of the buildings from the 7th floor, and anxious for tomorrow to begin so I could start my journey on the Freedom Trail. Outside, the city lights twinkled in a night that had been further darkened by a brewing storm.

A view from my hotel window.

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