Boston, Massachusetts

I spent a good part of my first day in Boston asking myself whether it was really worth all the pain, expense, frustration and train-wrangling. Turns out it absolutely was. Good thing too, or I might have written some very angry letters to Amtrak about two-hour train delays, and to the hostel for being fairly dodgy, smelly and isolating. Also, it would have made today’s stomach bug seem even more horrifyingly inconvenient.

Boston: love it. I spent this morning on a guided tour of the Freedom Trail, this afternoon exploring Harvard, and this evening hobbling around feeling nauseous and eating pop tarts. I don’t think the pop tarts really made me feel any better, but it’s my last night in the US and I’m living on the edge.

I left the hostel quite early this morning, having decided to walk to Boston Common and take in the local sights. The city is beautiful; eighteenth century architecture crops up everywhere, and public gardens are taken seriously. Also, cars don’t try to kill pedestrians like they do in New York, which is definitely a bonus. The whole area is very green and squirrel-filled. I originally thought the Boston Public Gardens were the Boston Common. When I walked a bit further and spotted a herd of tour guides dressed in revolutionary garb in the distance, I realised my mistake.

I adopted a guide (British redcoat) and followed his tour, which started at the Boston Common information centre, and followed the Freedom Trail path-marker to historically significant sites. The most impressive of these was the third-oldest cemetery in Boston, which contained Samuel Adams, Ben Franklin’s parents and Old Mother Goose! (Possibly.) We also visited the site of the Boston Massacre and many other small, pompous red-bricked buildings, all of large historical consequence.

Harvard was definitely a highlight. American colleges have just started for the year, so Harvard Square was full of activity. I took a student-run tour from a sophomore guide sporting a ‘Hahvahd’ t-shirt and a boater hat. He was great fun and full of amazing stories about Harvard history. For example, back in the seventeenth century, a student decided to nick one of the college founder’s ancient texts. He took it home for the night, thinking nobody would notice, and returned the next day to find that the library had burned to the ground. Having in his possession the sole surviving college text, he presented it to the Harvard President, expecting praise and gratitude. Instead, he found himself suspended for breaking college rules by taking the book.

I also learned quite a lot about the traditional Harvard-Cambridge grudge. The most expensive building per square foot in Harvard is a tiny security house by the front gate. Its cost was rather hiked up by the 300 applications that it took for Cambridge to accept its blueprints. Another time, Cambridge was trying to build a firehouse on Harvard grounds, and Harvard only gave its permission on the condition that the new building match the architectural design of the surrounding college. This cost a lot more than Cambridge was happy with. A few years later, as the Harvard Memorial Hall burnt merrily away a mere fifty metres from the Cambridge firehouse, the fire engines took a good half hour to emerge and start fire fighting. When Harvard complained about this, Cambridge gave a public ‘apology’ essentially blaming Harvard for demanding an architectural design that failed to allow adequate room for ladders on top of the fire trucks.

There was also an enormous library dedicated to a wealthy student who had died on the Titanic. Although this student had a first class ticket and therefore access to a lifeboat, he leapt off at the last minute on remembering that he had left his prized collection of first edition books in his room. He returned to find that the boats had left and went down with the ship, books and all. His mother donated an enormous amount of money to Harvard on the condition that they build a library in the name of her son and reserved one room for her son’s ghost to inhabit. Apparently Harvard students aren’t allowed to enter this room. Should Harvard ever remove her son’s name from the library, or use his room for something else, all the books within the library are to go to Cambridge. She clearly had a keen sense of humour.

Oh, and the Harvard law library kicked the Monash law library's butt.

I spent the rest of the day wandering through central Boston, reading my book in the public gardens and taking a free tour of their parliament house (or whatever they call it). Their parliament house is even shinier and more ornate than ours, with murals on every inch of the ceiling and historic artefacts hanging off the walls. The best thing I discovered during the tour is that each house of parliament has its own brass fish mascot. The House of Reps only holds session in the presence of the Sacred Cod that hangs from the ceiling (and is occasionally pinched by Harvard students). The Sacred Cod is a reminder that the House of Reps must never curtail the rights of the fishing industry.


The Senate has its own fish: the Holy Mackerel. :) One thing I found really interesting about the Senate is that all the seats are set at different heights so that the senators see eye to eye.

One final note about Boston: beware of scungy hostels. I left it this morning as a bedbug buffet. While every inch of me is currently spotted and itchy, I did manage to get all my money back from the hostel, plus ten bucks to spend on ointment at the chemist. So if you want a couple of free nights in Boston, stay where I stayed.

(Incidentally, if anyone knows whether I should be worried about all these bedbug bites, please tell me. I got a bit freaked out by the way the hostel people basically shoved my money back at me without needing to be asked.)

Tonight I leave the US – and import bedbugs to the UK.