Travel Biography - Week 113.

Preparing to travel to Boston, Massachusetts.

On Day Nine after arriving in New York, I vacated my bed at the world's largest HI-AYH backpackers hostel to start my 216-mile journey to Boston, where I would spend the next five days of this 1998 two-week backpacking break. Furthermore, unlike New York, this would be my first visit to Boston. I was keen to see this city after bypassing it in the four past trips I made to the USA.

The day before I left the Big Apple, I visited Penn Station and asked whether there were trains to Boston. Unlike the Grand Terminus, Penn was a through station where trains from Massachusetts, Vermont, Maine, and New Hampshire would stop at New York and then proceed to Philadelphia and the rest of the USA. At the ticketing kiosk, a friendly staff member explained that a service was due to depart the next day, and told me the fare for the journey.

Since I was conscious of the budget, I hesitated, and then declined the transaction, having decided to take the oh-so-familiar Greyhound Americruiser instead. Looking back, it was a decision I have since regretted. To this day, I would love to try out a sample of American train travel other than the subway.

Having boarded the bus at the Port Authority Bus Terminal, the five-hour journey went smoothly, with one service stop halfway.

Boston Skyline.

Quincy Market, Boston.

At Quincy Market, Boston

I arrived at the Boston Bus terminal and as I exited to find the hostel, I was confronted by a couple of towering cranes. In 1998, the John F. Fitzgerald Expressway still flew over the city. But the project to tunnel the road under the city and replace the flyover site with gardens was already underway. If only I could return to Boston now. I would see a city much enhanced by the absence of the flyover and instead, I would see a series of gardens marking the former site of the expressway, while the main carriageway tunnelled underground.

I found the hostel, which was on Stuart Street, and checked in for the next four nights. Unlike in New York, this was an average-sized hostel with a proper size kitchen and dining room, and like any other hostel, this one too, was well-equipped with decent utensils, crockery, and cutlery. Boston was more friendly to the budget traveller than New York was. However, like in Santa Monica, I had to show my receipt at reception every time I entered after being out for the day. On one occasion, I got hassled by one of the staff members, apparently a student who was working part-time at the reception, who insisted on seeing the receipt, after walking straight in. Yet, I thought that by then, I was a familiar face, having already spent a couple of nights there. However, my reasoning would never stand against a young man who wanted to prove his powers.

The street layout of Downtown Boston didn't conform to the American symmetrical grid pattern, but more of an English tangle of urban streets, hence, giving a clue to its history as a British colony. In turn, South Boston was laid out in a small symmetrical grid, indicating that this particular area was developed later in its history. Boston was smaller than Manhattan and more compact, yet the city atmosphere was not as bustling as New York, but more quiet and sedate, thus less stressful. 

Similar to London, Boston has two railroad terminus stations, Boston North and Boston South. Had I arrived in the city from New York by train, I would have passed through the South Station. Two subway lines pass under the city, the Red Line and the Blue Line. I used one of the lines a couple of times. For example, the Blue Line linked the city to Logan Airport, where I later took off for London Gatwick.

Winter Street, Boston shopping precinct.

The Three Cranes Tavern Archaeological Site.

Like New York, Boston hugs the Atlantic coastline at Massachusetts Bay where the mouths of three rivers converge in the city, the Charles River, the Mystic River, and the Chelsea River. The bay itself, with Winthrop to the north, and Allerton to the south, formed two peninsulas, along with several islands within, the large bay could be classed as a lagoon, with Boston Islands National Park within the area. Logan Airport juts out into the lagoon, east of the city.

The City's History in a Nutshell.

Boston is famous for its 1773 Tea Party on December 16th of that year, although, at the time, the event wasn't referred to as a party, implying a birthday festival. Rather it was a rebellion from the colonial Sons of Liberty against the taxes imposed by the British Government when the tea was imported to be sold into the American continent from China (Source: Wikipedia). Instead of submitting to their British rulers, on that day, the entire cargo of tea was thrown overboard from the ship that brought it. Another ship docking in Philadelphia (inland, on the Delaware River) and holding a cargo of tea was returned to England intact, without unloading any of its cargo. This was the lesser-known Philadelphia Tea Party.

The rebellion against Britain by the colonies resulted in unrest, leading to various battles that characterised the American Revolution that lasted three years to 1776. On July 4th, 1776, the American Declaration of Independence was announced, setting itself free from the domain of the British Empire. It could be said then, that it was here in Boston that the birth of the USA as an independent sovereign country had its roots, and in 1789, George Washington became America's first president. 

Indeed, I saw the harbour where the Tea Party was supposed to have taken place. Near to it was the City Aquarium which I visited. More of that later.

The Public Garden, Rowing Lakes, and Archaeology.

One area I was impressed with was the Public Garden which adjoins Boston Common. Yes, I was surprised when I found out its name - Public Garden. Furthermore, unlike Boston Common which was irregular in shape due to the urban street layout surrounding it, the Public Garden was a symmetrical rectangle, a smaller version of New York's Central Park. It was enhanced by an elongated lake, on which pleasure boats plied around its area. Bang in the middle of the pond, a footbridge crosses it, and I spent some time just leaning on the parapet and watching the pleasure boats (two of them at the time) pass under the bridge.

The boats were large enough to accommodate just a few passengers, yet their motors were silent as the boat glided slowly along the length of the lake. But I didn't take advantage. What I would have preferred was a boating lake, like Hyde Park's Serpentine in London, where rowing boats are available for hire. Or on the River Thames in Windsor or Henley. This was one activity I missed while I was in America. Rowing. I didn't see any boats for hire at Central Park or here in Boston. Nor, if I recall, anywhere else across the Atlantic.

Could it be that private boat hire (and not as a club member) is uniquely British? After all, I didn't see any rowing boats for hire in Australia, either. Yet, in a small lake in Grasmere, at the Lake District National Park, boat hire was readily available, as in Windermere and perhaps also at Derwentwater.

Is rowing in a privately hired boat really unique to Britain? It's quite a point, that! Considering the last few Olympic Games, which in Paris 2024 had just ended, in canoe rowing, there was hardly an event where the British Olympic Team failed to win a medal. If there's a sport where the British are world champions, it's rowing. After all, growing up in a hired rowing boat has a greater likelihood of joining a canoeing club and receiving professional coaching.

But here in Boston, anyone who wishes to sail across the lake pays for an 'escorted' sailing, as was in the river at the Texan city of San Antonio in 1978. Back then, I paid for a seat in one of their pleasure boats. But it was still not the same. I find paddling the oars, and exercising my shoulder, arm, and chest muscles as I glide across the calm water backwards, and the need to turn my head now and again so as not to run into an obstruction, another boat, or onto the bank. It was always exhilarating! Indeed, had there been a boat hire platform in Boston, and perhaps in Central Park as well, I wouldn't hesitate for a moment.

Boston Public Gardens.

Pleasure Boats, Public Gardens.

There was one site which could be classified as archaeological, and that was on a small area of grass in the City Square. Resembling the foundation of a Roman temple, I already knew that the Romans never invaded North America. I couldn't blame them, as there was no candy floss at the time! Instead, the site marked the location of a 17th-century tavern that once stood there. Finding information about the site was difficult, but I believe that the site was where the Great House was built in 1629 and was converted to a tavern in 1635 after it was purchased by an innkeeper, Robert Long. The name of the tavern was The Three Cranes. It was destroyed by a fire during the Battle of Bunker Hill in 1775. Although I have checked the Internet for this piece of information, when I stood at the site in 1998, I already knew that this was once a tavern.

This historical gem sets Boston apart from any modern American city. As far as I'm aware, that was the first time I actually saw an archaeological site in the United States, although I'm aware of much older artwork of Native Americans found in desert locations such as the Grand Canyon, dating back thousands of years. Unfortunately, the Corridor Trails (Bright Angel, North and South Kaibab Trails) have not brought anyone close enough to see these artworks regularly.

Boston is rich in history. There are 16 sites within the city, all of them linked by the Freedom Trail. This is a line of red brick built into the sidewalk, hence there is never the risk of it fading under the thousands of footsteps that follow it each year. However, when I followed it in 1998, I counted only 15 sites, or 'stations' as I call them. This is my own terminology. I define 'station' as a stop on a route, whether it be by train, bus, or foot. I have used the word to refer to the rest huts spaced along the trail within the Grand Canyon. In the sport of Triathlon and the Marathon, the words 'drinks station' are quite legitimate.

But how did I count just 15 'stations' instead of 16? Surely, by staying on the trail, I couldn't miss any. One of the sites was that of the 1770 Boston Massacre, where nine British soldiers shot dead a crowd of civilians who rose up in protest over the Empire's heaviness in governing the colony. It is now marked by a circular slab resembling a decorated manhole cover embedded in the sidewalk. It was easy to miss. Or maybe I did mistake it for a manhole.

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Next Week: the Stations of Boston's Freedom Trail.