Writing blogs late after the evnts happen usually result, I suppose as I have never done a consistent blog before, in a kind of amnesia, a general forgetfulness. Also the brevity is somewhat compunded by the fact that free internet, as was the case in Boston, is sadly no more. My apoligies for the lateness but this is Nevin after all and if you know me then you'll know the joke.
Boston, even by our fifth day there was not getting boring in the slightest although we had seen almost all of the major sights but the highlight that sticks in my head is when we went into a Boston institution called Legal Sea Foods. Now aparrently all of the swimming animals served up here are as fresh as possible and I would agree that the fish I had was very tasty but I felt a little ripped off compared to the feast that we had to endure, yes endure (after all, eating all of that dessert was akin to a marathon), in the Cheesecake Factory. Also the waitress wasn't very nice at all. The lads commented that she was from the mid-west but whatever about that she deserved a hiding because to be frank here, it was as if she was reading it all from a book. Lovely.
I should mention that I am writing this from a laundrette in Harlem and it is hard to get things to come back to me especially seeing as I havent my camera with me but be patient. Hey, imagine that, they've a web terminal (for five dollars an hour) in a laundrette? Unreal.
Saturday, our sixth and final day in Boston was a sombre affair. Donal and I had really enjoyed our time there but quite clearly Boston didn't send back the feelings at all. Bunker Hill, as the name suggests is on a hill and we wanted to see it so we climbed up through the beatiful and typically New England style picturesque streets of Charlestown (a part of Boston). It was worth it really but not in a way I thought it would be. You see the sun was very strong that Saturday and we had checked out from the hostel in a slight rush, sad to see the back of what was a very relaxing and laid back abode and were laden down with our luggage. Pulling my luggage bag up the hills wasn't nice and I understand now, in a very very very slight way, how people in wheelchairs feel when they must casually gaze at steps and instead go five miles east in order to use the worlds longest ramp in order to get up that little hill themselves. I thought at one point I would need a tent to sleep in on the way up and a rehydration team to ensure liquid of some form stayed in my body. Still, I made it to be top but it wasn;'t what it seemed.
The view was suppossed to be great from up there but upon setting down on the grass both Donal and I wondered "where is this view?". Sure we could see some of Boston through gaps in the nice houses but it was nothing too special.
Then Donal went away for a while as I talked to my parents and brother on the phone (missing them already would you believe?).
He came back and pointed to the massive tower which stood proudly on the top of the hill. I had admired it from the grass, this was the spot where the Battle of Bunker Hill was fought in the War of Independence and this tower stood as a monument to the US loss in that battle. I acknowledged his pointing but then he informed me you could go to the top. 300 winding steps! I tackled it of course but Donal had done it with his luggage on his back. I left mine in his care on the grass of course. I entered and got into my stride but as the stairs went on I could feel my calves growning...300 steps without any stop, it was a spiral after all, is not as easy as it sounds. There were peopel behind me so I wasn't about to stop and the sun couldn;t shine in so that helped a little but when I got to the top, well, what a sight. Now I understood what the guidebooks had been praising for so long. There was a good few people up there already and I did indeed bear in mind, a little nervously, that this tower was built about 150 years ago (or something like that) but I did look down the grate covered shaft in the centre. May I just say that one would have a very sore head should they remove the grate in order to have a little jump. Looking out from the four "windows" though revealed views of all Boston and was quite something else. Pictures more than words would do it justice but I'm paying for this web time so you'll have to google it yourself.
From Bunker Hill we hopped back on the subway straight into South Station to buy our tickets for the Fung Wah Chinatown bus to bring us cheaply and hopefully safely to New York. $15 dollars was a figure we simply couldn't argue with and in fairness the coach was comfortable. One does become a tad disconcerted when they see that same bus companies bus being pulled on the back of a tow truck while half way through the journey though. I did because as you can guess, Donal and I saw just this.
There wasn't an awful lot to see from the Interstates but it was nice to actually be on them as they do have a somewhat mystical air about them and I even went so far as to take pictures of a sign for the I-95, that being the name of a song by a band called Fountains of Wayne whom I happen to think are brilliant. The thing that really sticks in the mind about the Interstates though is the sense that it is in another timescape, another world. I am sure that you could grab a Big Mac on I-95 at 2am, I grabbed a Happy Meal at about 5pm somewhere along it when the bus stopped for a break but the thought that stuck in my head was to do with the geography of the area. There was nothing but fields and trees, a big wide road and two McDonalds and two filling stations, one on either side of the road. In a way then this is the human as car for as ther car is fuelled up quickly, so can the human body be. Amazing.
What was more amazing though was the sight of Manhattan as we entered New York City through the Bronx, then Queens, into Brooklyn and then over Manhattan Bridge to Canal Street which is the middle of Chinatown. Seeing the Empire State building rising up and the Chrysler Building gleam in the sun as it sets gently in the east. Some have siad that fater 9/11 the NYC skyscape has beconme generic but this didn't seem so to me. It was a sight to behold. Once we had arrived we immediately went for the subway and on into Harlem, which I will admit was a culture shock at first becuase everybody was simply being themselves, there was no faking going on like in most places in this world. Poeple were out dancing on streets, in the parks, conversing on street corners. The places was dark, and alive!
Anyway the time is running out on the web terminal but I know I have plenty to keep you informed of...my camera is coming as a second memory the next time.
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