There's Actually a Fair Bit of Ocean Between Boston and St. John's

The train trip up to Boston included the worst Dunkin Doughnuts Coolata I've ever tasted (burnt, spoiled and over-sweetened), and a neverending gaggle of loud, merciless children.

Luckily, the kids didn't have the willpower or determination to keep the racket up long, and for the most part it was a nice train ride, coupled with an interesting conversation about the civil war with a man who barely spoke English. It was almost two bucks for a can of soda though. Lame. I brought my own for the return trip.

The most startling discovery of the train trip was that George gets his ear blown off by Snape.

The second most startling discovery of the train trip home was that Trenton, New Jersey, was not the worst city I passed. Nope, it was Providence, Rhode Island. The place looked like a war zone, after the battle was over. There was debri and graffitti everywhere, but no gangs. They ran out of stuff to do. The blasted out landscape reminded me of the ancient nation of Crete, that didn't exactly fall as much as everyone got bored and left. Any invaders found there was nothing there worth having, let alone worth taking. Sad.

Anyway, Amber's words of 'that suitcase is kind of heavy' quickly began to haunt me as I dragged the brown rectangular block of cement down the streets of Boston.

I always thought I hated cities, but it turns out I just hate large cities, like New York and Wasington DC. Most of Boston barely qualifies as a city, and looks more like New Hope, only with a third story. It may as well have been a suburb when I walked down the quiet, empty streets towards my hotel. Sure, it was Friday afternoon, but it was still surprising how quiet it was, although the fact that Boston is kind of a college town, and it was the middle of Summer, probably had something to do with it.

I finally made it to the hotel, and the staff was friendly. My room had a definite 'college dorm' feel to it, but it had everything I needed, including a TV with a bad picture and a really loud air conditioner. It made me feel young again.

A quick shower later and I was out on the town. I didn't exactly know what I was doing or where I was going, but I had a map, disposable income, and I was too large to mug, so the city was my oyster.

I don't know how Guiliani got the crazy homeless people out of New York, but they all went to Boston. It wasn't out of control, but there was still one on every block. My favorite was the first one I saw. I was walking next to him (he looked normal enough...although take into consideration that I'm from Jersey), and when two people turned and passed, he turned towards them and shouted:

"You're disgusting!"

He spit.

"You do not lie to the police! You're disgusting!"

I (along with a pretty girl in a red dress) moved quickly along away from him. I wondered if he knew the guy or was crazy. He walked down the street for awhile and started shouting the same thing at someone else.

The next thing of interest I saw was the John Hancock tower. It was ridiculously huge compared to everything around it, and for the remainder of the trip, I'd use it to navigate the city. All I had to do was walk towards it and I'd be closer to the hotel.

After the tower was the Trinity church, which had awesome architecture, filled with tiny statues carved into the sides of the buildings, and a great statue of its founder, with an Emperor Palpatine-like statue of Jesus looming behind him.

I stopped by the CVS (the only convenience store nearby, no Wawas in Boston), and picked up a couple disposable cameras, to document the trip. If I had the forethought to bring a digital camera, you'd be looking at the pictures right now. Still, I'll see if I can scan them later.

I wandered into the 'college' area of town (Boston is split up into completely unique areas, like a videogame), and wandered past all the dang fangled kids and their hot girlfriends. Boston also has a college of music, so all the street bands/performers were actually pretty good. After the college area was the 'commercial district', which pretty much solidified Boston's status as a life-size Sim City. In there I found a Boston Market (didn't eat there, but it was comforting to know that Boston had one), the happiest dog I've ever seen, and an incredibly geeky store 'the complete strategist'.

It has all the content of Gamer's Realm, only 1/4 the space. It's the kind of store that has its products in piles. The owner was going on a rant about how Americans today have more reason to start a revolution against the government then our forefathers did when they fought the British. I decided it'd be impolite to slap him.

For the rest of Friday, I mostly wandered. I found a place called the back bay fens, which is a great park, filled with strange out of control wildlife and gardens you're not allowed to enter. There was also an abundance of chubby girls riding bikes, and as a Queen fan, there's no way I could have not loved it. One even had pig tails. ^_^

Anyway, I wound up by Fenway Park (I was looking for the '5 wits', a real life Myst game/ride), and was surprised by the amount of closed down stores. Apparently, staying open next to Fenway Park is difficult if you can't figure out a way to capitalize on it. The parking next to Fenway park cost $35, which shocked me pretty bad. I wondered why they didn't just park at the McDonalds across the street.

I then saw the sign listing parking at McDonalds during games costing $30. Dang.

I took a wrong turn and accidentally entered the 'bad part of town'. I took a few steps past a hedge and a filthy, deranged homeless man leapt out of nowhere towards me. After seeing me, however, he decided to turn around and look at the ground. Whatever craziness he had in mind (hooting, hollering and demanding money I suspect) was decided against when he saw that I had a full foot and a hundred pounds on him.

Throughout all of this I have to mention that I was drinking more than I ever had before. Well, Boston is known for drinking, and I was by no means an exception.

Water, juice, soda, you name it! I was guzzling it down just to stay alive. Then I fell down.

There was a pothole in the sidewalk that was more or less exactly the size of my shoe. I stepped in it, and the ridiculous reflexes I only seem to have when falling over kicked in. I turned and fell, landing on my back, but scraping up the side of my arm (it just finally finished healing this week). I needed a swig from my soda after that, but found that small bits of gravel had somehow kicked up into it. I was spitting out tiny bits of stone for the rest of the night.

I got some disinfectant, band-aids, and then the best clam chowder I've ever eaten (not all at the same location). Whiskey tavern had a mediocre lobster special (I have to admit though, I'd never broken apart a whole lobster before, and almost told the waitress that I'd been bluffing), but a dynamite bowl of soup. The secret is that the clam was very fresh, and nothing in the bowl overpowered the flavor of the clam. It wasn't too creamy or heavy, and everything perfectly accentuated the taste of the clam.

By then I was tired of walking, but I hobbled back to my room, passed a perfectly restored Volkswagon Beetle (awesome...too bad it was baby blue), and then ran into the craziest person in all of Boston. No one else I met during the trip even came close.

She was a pretty, normal looking college student. I didn't hear her speak and she did nothing out of the ordinary. What was she doing that was so crazy?

Jogging.

Alone.

At night.

I decided to take her last known photograph.

If it weren't for people like that, serial killers would actually have to get jobs.

I made it to my room, took another shower, watched a game of baseball and then went to sleep.

More on Saturday later.