BOSTON - MASSACHUSETTS

7th - 14th March 2011

 The Massachusetts State House, Boston

I may have mentioned it before, but arrived in Boston, Back Bay station, after 23 hours ride on the iron horse ( changed steeds at New York ), a bit 'saddle-sore' and am therefore having a bit of a pit-stop. Back in Yankee territory so I didn't ask for the 'Rhett Butler Suite' at the YMCA hostel. The first day here was cold, but blue skies, then it became cold and overcast, then cold and rain.  Then, luckily, sunny again.This was the first rain I had experienced since arriving in USA! I hadn't read up a lot on Boston and my knowledge was restricted to the infamous 'Tea Party', lots of Irish immigration following their spud shortage ( was that really all they could grow? ), the song about 'Charlie on the MTA', and lobster sandwiches. I have found out a little more since.

First impressions of the place included the fact that, probably due to the cold weather, Bostonians looked rather dour and pinch-faced compared to the Southerners, and New Yorkers for that matter. Also, the higgledy-piggeldy streets of the old Northside were good for wandering around, which was just as well considering the lamentable street signage and indecipherable tourist street maps. The locals agreed with me about this! Fortunately Boston and, just north over the River Charles, Charlestown and Cambridge, is not a big area. I was led to believe that Boston is a city of High Culture. My first night here I noticed a long queue of people trying to get into the Boston Opera House. What was on show and such a draw? Mary 'effing' Poppins! ChimChimCheroo, gor blimey!

A little background info. The Boston area was originally the home of the Massachuset Indians. It was colonised in 1630 by Puritans who had been kicked out of England because they were too boring. They established several colonies in 'New England', and named Boston after the town in Lincolnshire where some of them came from. The Bostonians became increasingly bolshy over being taxed by the British which resulted, after the Boston 'massacre' and the Tea Party incident, in the 'Revolutionary War' in 1775 of which the first shots were fired at Lexington, then Concord ( both about 15 miles west ), then the battle of Bunker Hill, in Charlestown ( a British victory, as it happened ).

The Barking Crab

The first thing I did was to go down to the harbour for my lobster sandwich at a tent-cum-hut called 'The Barking Crab'. Do crabs bark? I didn't know.

It was very good, and so it bloody well should have been seeing as it cost $24! The barman took my credit card before I ordered it.

As always, excellent service and pics here of the place and member of staff.

  

While down at the harbour I thought I had better go and have a look at the Tea Party Ship and Museum. The Tea Party occurred in 1773 when some locals, protesting ( as usual ) about duty on tea and the contract to ship it being given to a British company, dressed up as Mohawk Indians, went on board and tipped the old PG Tips into the drink. This upset the British Government and resulted in more troops being sent to the rebellious colony. Unfortunately, I discovered that the ship and museum had burnt down 5 years ago ( hit by lightening apparently? ). It was 'in the process' of being restored.

Ex-Site of the Tea Party Ship and Museum

The other thing which upset the Bostonians ( they always seemed to be at some level of dissatisfaction ) was what they like to remember as 'The Boston Massacre'. This occurred in 1770 when a large murderous mob, armed with clubs and bricks, surrounded a section of 8 'red-coats' outside the Town Hall. After repeated warnings by the doubtless frightened soldiers, they opened fire. 5 of the mob were killed. Now, I don't know about you, but I don't really call that a massacre. The retreat from Kabul in 1842, or Amritsar in 1919, or even the recent England versus Australia 'Ashes' Test Match series, now these were proper massacres. What happened in Boston, in my opinion, was merely a 'Regrettable Incident'. Or, more probably, an 'excuse' for trouble to follow. They erected a monument to this and always hark back to it as a typical example of British brutality.

Monument to the 'Boston Regrettable Incident'

Paul Revere ( a Boston silversmith and revolutionary ), you may have heard of him, rode ( not through the streets of Boston ) to warn of the British army sailing down the river in April 1775. He rowed across the Charles river, 'borrowed' a horse from a vicar in Charlestown and galloped off to warn the 'Minutemen' ( coined after the phrase "I'm just popping down to the pub, dear, I'll be back in a minute" ) in Lexington and Concord. The 'Revolutionary War' then started. I wonder if the vicar got his horse back?

After skirmishes in Lexington and Concord, the first big fight was in Charlestown at Bunker Hill. In fact the battle was fought on Breeds Hill, about 1/2 mile away but, for some reason unknown, it was called the Battle of Bunker Hill (probably a map-reading error). It was where the order "so wait 'til you see the whites of their eyes before shooting" was first given by the American Colonel defending the hill. It didn't work, they lost.

Paul Revere on the vicar's horse, turning right.

As expected, they built a monument to this battle (on which hill I didn't gather). What I do know is that there are 294 steps to the top because I made the mistake of going up the damned thing. Knackered. But I took some photos from the top which, because of the effort I went to, you can jolly well look at.
There is a statue at the bottom of it of, who I took to be Quentin Crisp ( one of the self proclaimed 'stately homos of England' ) in bad disguise as some Yankee Col Prescott. I hope no relation to YKW. Photo of this features 'below below' because I cannot move it up!

Bunker Hill Monument

View from Monument South towards Boston

Left: Quentin Crisp aka Colonel Prescott.

















Right: Mr and Mrs 'Spud' Murphy and their daughter looking a bit peckish. Good panhandling technique.

Another chapter of Boston history involved the mass Irish immigration following the potato crop failure and subsequent famine in Ireland from 1845-1850. About 1 million Irish? (can't remember, lots anyway) emigrated to New England and were sympathetically looked after by the Boston community. Incidently, it is thought that the potato 'blight' which caused the crop to fail in all of Europe, not just Ireland, was exported by trading ships from the east coast of America in the first place. Maybe they felt guilty?

The statue above is part of the Boston monument to the 'Irish Famine'. It shows Mr and Mrs 'Spud' Murphy and their daughter looking a bit peckish.

There are, therefore, a plethora of 'Oirish Bears' in the town and all seeking to claim authentic Irish Traditions. Pubs such as The Kinsale which advertises itself as, and I quote, 'an historic Boston Irish Pub with great snacks, burgers, hearty appetizers, salads, chowder and pasta'. I suppose it didn't have potatoes, so that's OK then.

There were also many Italian immigrants who colonised the Northside area. A war memorial  ( next to the Paul Revere statue ) shows those killed in the World Wars and after to be almost exclusively of Italian origin. Many good Italian restaurants, therefore. 

I show below some Irish pub scenes:

If you can enlarge the photo below you will see that the 'Bumpin' Uglies' are due to perform on St Paddy's Day. Almost worth staying to watch.

Below: I think I know how he feels ( or doesn't )

.... this one, right, advertises that well known Irish brew, Budweisser.

Another 'sight' I went to see was the USS Constitution, or 'Old Ironsides' as she was nicknamed. It is kept at the now defunct Charlestown Naval Dockyards. It fought valiantly apparently, in the war against the British in 1812. I didn't even realise there was a war v America then! I thought we were far too busy fighting some megalomaniac French dwarf at the time.  They told me that the Constitution had never been beaten in battle and won a memorable victory against a ship of the Royal Navy, HMS Guerreierre, in 1812. Built of 'Live Oak' ( remember that stuff? It's grown in Carolina/Georgia and very hard ), the British cannonballs bounced off the side, hence some yankee sailor called the ship 'Old Ironsides'. It is built entirely of wood. Apart from the cannon-balls of course.

I think Capt Pugwasche would have been proud to command this ship. Our guide, a US Navy body-building fanatic to look at him, gave us lots of warnings of what not to do during the guided tour. The main warning, shouted at least five times was "do NAAAT pick up the cannon-balls!!!!" As a final reminder he glared at all the children and re-iterated "I'll be watching you! So, do naaaat pick up the cannon-balls......".  I think we got the message. I have no doubt that another cannon-ball went missing during the tour.



Left: Some of the guns ( 24 pounders ). The cannon-balls were at the back of the deck with lots of children trying to pick them up when Able Seaman Muscles was not watching.










Left: A further gun on the upper deck. No cannon balls here. Probably thrown overboard by previous tourists.


The best way, I found, to get around Boston was to walk, despite the lack of street signs and a useless map. Indeed I walked the 'Freedom Trail', a 2.5 mile marked ( by a red line ) route which takes you around the 'historic' bits. The older streets are narrow and congested and taxis therefore take ages and cost a fortune. There are 'tour buses', but I was told they too spend most of the time static. I did use the 'subway' system, known as the 'T' ( from the acronym MBTA, the Massachusetts Bay Transportation Authority ). It is not too bad, although I was told the Bostonians curse it. ( I suspect Bostonians curse most things. Maybe they have an inherited bolshy streak! ). The Boston subway system is the oldest in America. It was started in 1889 and known then as the Metropolitan Transit Authority ( the MTA ) with only a couple of stations and the strange ticketing policy that you paid a 'nickel' to get on and then had to pay another 'nickel' to get off! Hence the song about Charlie on the MTA. Charlie paid to get on but didn't have a nickel to get off, so continued forever on the train, or trolley as they were then called. His wife used to come down to the station at 2.00pm every day to pass him a sandwich through the open window as the train came by. It is not clear why she didn't pass him a 'nickel' as well. As a result the tickets you now buy are known as 'Charlie tickets' or Charlie cards'. Neat, huh?





Left: The 'Charlie Card' for the 'T'.

I paid a visit to Harvard University. It is situated in Cambridge (on the river west of Charlestown, north of Boston). I was merely curious. It is a large, quite impressive, red-brick campus built around spacious grassy quadrangles. It has a big library, surprise surprise. The place was founded, can't remember when, by John Harvard. He was one of those Puritan chappies so, presumably, did not admit to enjoying a good night out with the boys, a flutter on the horses or a visit to the 'red light' district. Well suited to founding a university I suppose. I doubt if he would approve wildly of what goes on in our present day British establishments. For what it's worth, photos below: Whoops, no they're not. My 'blogsite' tells me that I have run out of space for photos, you may be relieved to hear. I will send them in the next one, maybe. I have an interesting photo of some ducks to show you.

That is more than enough for now. I must pack and get well away before the St Paddy's Day mayhem starts in a couple of days. They have been winding up for it all week-end with the green shirted, silly hatted faux-Irish brigade practicing getting drunk and singing badly.

Onwards and upwards....................