End of the Line

Dearest Rachel –

So Sunday saw us off the ship, and on our way into town.  Our journey had finally come to an end… sort of.

We still had given ourselves a day to knock about the city – and with the ball game I had made a particular point of arranging to see being postponed until the evening, we had the entire afternoon to do so.  The only issue was that, without transport (and without any specific destination to direct what transport we might otherwise be inclined to arrange for), this meant walking from one place to another.  As a result, there wasn’t much in the way of opportunity to put together a letter to you describing it all.  

The best I could give you would be the videos I shot of ourselves (well, myself, mostly, as Daniel still isn’t keen to appear on camera, let alone utter a sound; like almost all of us, he’s no fan of how his voice sounds in recording) as we walked from one part of town to another.  Since there wasn’t a lot of time or place to spend writing things down, you’ll have to settle for the reactions we had in the moment – some of which were tempered by the realization that we (well, I, since Daniel was just following me… until he checked his own map app, and informed me that I was never going to reach the Boston Common if I kept going in the direction I was.

So at that point, we doubled back and returned to the hotel to rest our feet, as well as to determine where we might want to go during the rest of the afternoon we’d been left with due to the rescheduling of the day’s ballgame.  We actually asked Copilot for recommendations; since we didn’t know our way around the city, we assumed that the collective knowledge base that is the internet would be able to offer suggestions as to where to find “local” fare.  Interestingly, one of the places we were directed to was the restaurant attached to the very hotel we were staying at; which, to be fair, had a pretty unique, rock-and-roll vibe.

Still, we decided to table that for possibly a late-night dinner after the game instead, and went to a burger joint that we were informed was supposedly a bit of true “local” color. Considering that the chain only has about four locations, all within a five mile radius or so, that’s a more than fair assessment, but given the flavorful offerings, it’s a pity that it’s not extended itself any further than Harvard Yard.  Then again, if it went any further, would there be any point to their “starving student” combo meal (which, I should point out, neither of us ordered, since neither of us is a starving student)?

Given the success of this particular recommendation, we thought we’d do just as well when we asked for a good place to buy some souvenir tchotchkes – since she asked us to, we’d been hunting down fridge magnets for Kris in every port we’d visited, including this final stop. Copilot suggested a shop in a place called Faneuil Hall Marketplace, a little ways further into the heart of town from Boston Commons. It was a little hike, it warned us, but it was manageable if we planned to get back to the hotel (and the ballpark) before game time.

The marketplace sounded as if it were in some kind of mall – and I suppose that, for a certain definition of ‘mall,’ it might very well qualify as one. But it wasn’t like the ones we’d been visiting in one port or another throughout this trip (or that I’d seen overseas the year before). And finding the place we’d been looking for wasn’t that easy, either.

Although, while I mention us having been disappointed by a mostly sports-themed souvenir shop, we did find its counterpart selling basic Boston knickknacks shortly thereafter, so in the final analysis, we got what we came for. As a shopping excursion, it was a little bit much; as a sightseeing expedition, it was just about right – and certainly more than we would have done if the ball game had taken place in the afternoon.

Oh, and speaking of the ball game…

We’d actually gotten back to the hotel with maybe a half-hour to rest before the gates opened at five, and we decided not to head out right away… which still meant we were there for an hour before the game started. I’m going to admit that this worked out just fine, as Daniel would ask a question about what was going on (such as the organist who was playing – and they still have a live organist here, which is fitting for a place referred to, like Wrigley Field, as a “baseball cathedral”), and we would look up a response on Copilot. This led to learning about how most players have specific walk-up music when batting or coming to the mound. I was considering writing a whole letter to you about how we were “nerding out” here, between the baseball trivia itself and the fact that we were using artificial intelligence to learn it all…

…at which point, the game started, and all thoughts of writing or recording went out the window. There was barely time between players for me to keep up with scoring the activity on the field.

Afterwards, as you can see, the streets, which had been so empty this morning (and even when we were heading to lunch), were jam-packed; we had difficulty finding our way back to the hotel, even once we figured out which way we needed to be going (we initially followed the flow of the crowd, until we got to a landmark we hadn’t seen before, which was a dead giveaway that we were headed in the wrong direction). Even outside the hotel, people were three deep along the sidewalk, making me wonder if their restaurant would be too crowded to get in. Upon reaching the door, which had a sign indicating Sunday hours only went until 10 (and therefore, we were a few minutes too late), which gave us additional cause for concern. But when we tried the door, it opened, and the fellow at the stand welcomed us in. I don’t know if he recognized a hotel guest, or if they were staying open for the home game traffic, but we got in, and had a pretty good meal.

And that was our final day of the trip, honey; we’ve reached the end of the line. Now, we have to get back to our regular lives, which is a whole other story to tell you about. Until then, keep an eye on us, and wish us luck, as we’re still going to need it.