Allie was feeling a little lonely so I volunteered to fly up and be her buddy for Labor Day weekend. I was happy to be invited, glad I was available on short notice, and pleased to get a hall pass from Barb who was looking forward to her last weekend at the pool. I was also pleased to get cheap flights using points.
Friday, September 2
My Southwest flight was easy, leaving at 10:50am in order to get to Allie’s around 1pm when she was finishing work for the Labor Day weekend. I wore a mask on the full flight as did maybe half of the other passengers. The new normal.
The taxi to Allie’s apartment took 25 minutes and $30. Next time I might consider taking the T bus to South Station which is free but was very crowded (and looked confusing). Then again, I would have to wheel my luggage from South Street to Allie’s, about a 10-minute walk. A $30 cab ride is not so bad.
After greeting Allie and Perri, we walked to High Street Place, a food hall that is one of Allie’s favorites for lunch. There were many interesting choices; I settled on a lamb sausage sandwich and chickpea fries from Pennypacker’s. Both were quite tasty but upon reflection I probably should have got the porcetta sandwich, their signature (in truth I should have chosen something altogether healthier, but at least I avoided the spicy fried chicken sandwich from another stall, so that’s a win, right?). We shared the fries – in that I had 80% of them – but only ate half the sandwich, taking the rest home for a later snack (more virtue on display). Allie had a sort of poke salad bowl from Kutzu which no doubt was a healthier choice. I’m glad we raised her well, through negative examples no doubt.
We walked back to Allie’s apartment and had a quiet couple of hours watching the US Open, chatting, making plans, crosswording, reading, playing with Perri and dozing. Later in the afternoon we more actively watched Coco Gauff dismantle Madison Keys in the 3rd round.
At 7pm we settled in for the main US Open event watching Serena Williams in what may have been her final match. Ajla Tomljanovic from Australia will be the trivia answer who beat her…though we only saw the first two hours including an epic 20-minute game in the second set that Serena ultimately lost despite having many set points (she eventually pulled out that set but had little juice left in the final set, we learned later). We taped the rest as we headed out to dinner but I neglected to consider that the game would last longer than its allotted time so we didn’t see the end or the tributes that happened after. But no matter, Serena long confirmed her status as GOAT. Allie and I enjoyed watching and reminiscing about her and other tennis greats.
We pushed our dinner reservation back to 9:15 which was about as late as the restaurant, a tapas place called Atlantico, would let us. The Uber to the restaurant was my first-ever ride in a Tesla — very nice though I spent more time watching the display monitor than I did watching the road. The all-glass roof was also a bit disconcerting. Still, if Elon Musk were not associated with Tesla I would be very tempted to get one of the cars.
We had a truly excellent meal of anchovies, grilled octopus, bomba rice with squid ink, and clams with chorizo in an exquisite broth. All of them were delicious and mixed well together. We had a nice carafe of red Tempranillo wine and finished off with a Manchego cheese plate with raisins. One of the best meals we’ve had in Boston, and we’ve had quite a few at this point.
Saturday, September 3
Today’s plan was to take it easy in the morning before renting a ZipCar and checking out the 38th annual Gloucester Schooner Festival (festival program). I had found the festival in a list of things to do this weekend and it seemed like a fun expedition.
Allie and I had breakfast at a bakery (Bakey) by the Common. Their bread was excellent but my cold egg and cheese sandwich would have been better warm. I couldn’t resist the goat cheese croissant which Allie and I shared. It was still warm and much better. A tasty start to the day.
We walked through the Boston Common, admiring the Swan boats and willow trees in the Public Garden (accented by multiple erhu players, a nice touch), then up Commonwealth Avenue for a little exercise. In writing this post, I’ve learned this walk is part of Boston’s “Emerald Necklace” of public parks envisioned by Frederick Law Olmstead. More nice work, Fred! The Necklace may be the target of further walks in future visits to Boston.
While on the walk, I regaled Allie with a long recap of James Lafayette and Harry Washington’s lives. I’m sure she appreciated it.
We walked back then rested and cooled off at the apartment for a bit, watching tennis until our 1pm ZipCar reservation. We found the car easily enough in the garage across the street, got ourselves set to go, ignoring the low tire pressure warning on the car, and then couldn’t figure out how to get out of the parking garage. We blocked traffic at the exit for 10 minutes or more as we called the garage service number and finally got an attendant who spoke little English. Eventually we figured out there was a transponder card tucked into a pocket on the visor and were freed. I felt like an idiot but then again the ZipCar instructions could have been a lot better.
We drove for an hour to Gloucester listening on Allie’s recommendation to a Significant Others podcast about Mary Todd Lincoln by Conan O’Brien’s wife. The program was interesting but I’m not sure how many other episodes on other spouses and significant others I will seek out.
We got to Gloucester and drove through the town to orient ourselves, then sought our reserved parking spot at Stage Fort Park. We had to sit for 15 minutes or so waiting for a drawbridge between the town and the park. I don’t think we’d actually been in Gloucester before but both Allie and I remembered being stuck in that park during one of our drives while she was in college. I think we had parked for a bit to walk around and by the time we got back to the car, the gate was locked. We had to wait quite a while to flag down a policeman and then a park attendant to unlock the gate. We hoped this time we would have better luck.
We parked and walked 10 minutes or so along the beach promenade into town, waiting again for the drawbridge and partaking of the photo op at the Gloucester Fishermen’s Memorial.
We found the first set of docked schooners and went to view the impressive schooners up close. We saw a group of people lingering on one of the larger ships; we took off our shoes to board when we were informed that the ship was not open for deck tours despite the dozen or so people on deck. They could have told us before we removed our shoes.
Walked further to the Maritime Gloucester museum and main hub of the Schooner Festival. We checked out the food trucks and then the schooners docked there. We were disappointed that the harbor tour cruises were sold out for the day but fortunately Allie had been diligent to collect contact info for a couple of other more expensive cruises she saw along the walk. She booked us on a sunset cruise aboard the Alert departing at 5:30.
We toured the Adventure (website), an impressive twin-masted 1926 fishing schooner that remained in service into the 1950s before decades more as a tourist windjammer in Maine. I had an informative chat with a volunteer who explained how the ship went for weeks to the Grand Banks, deploying its 16 dories to catch haddock and cod with long lines. It sounded like a tough life for those on board. I was surprised that a (primarily) sailing ship was still operating in the mid-20th century.
The volunteer remarked on my Sail Boston hat, saying what a great event it was and that he’d been there. I didn’t know what he was talking about. I had bought the hat in Boston years before when I needed a hat for a whale watching cruise and it has been my travel hat ever since, living in my backpack so I have it when we go anywhere. I thought “Sail Boston” was just a general imperative or suggestion; I didn’t know there was an event associated with it. Turns out, it was a big gathering of tall ships in 2017. It only happens once a decade or so (next one: July 2026). Must’ve been nice. I disappointed the man when I said I wasn’t at the event. But I like the hat, anyway.
After getting our fill of schooners we could see from the docks, it was time to fill our bellies before the sunset cruise and fireworks. We chose the Topside Grill because it was conveniently close to the wharf where our cruise would depart from. Allie and I shared a clam chowder (the clams were actually fresh and quite tasty). I also had a Dark and Stormy drink with homemade ginger beer that was quite pungent. I felt virtuous ordering broiled flounder when clearly the restaurant’s forte was deep frying things. Allie had a sort of seafood pot pie thing that was one of the specials. The entrees were serviceable, not great, but they did the job and we were done in time to amble over to the dock for our cruise.
Check-in for the Alert was handled by a cheerfully outgoing woman named Bethany. It became clear that the two boisterous blonde girls playing on the dock were hers, and the Alert’s captain, Perry, was their husband and dad. They collectively reminded me of any of the Blythe girls and their families and made us and the few other passengers all feel at home. They operate the schooner as a charter out of Bailey Island, Maine, with Bethany’s parents (meet the family). This was their third Gloucester Schooner Festival so it seemed like they knew every boat and crew we passed.
We all helped raise the sails and Perry guided the schooner through the harbor and into Gloucester Bay for two hours. The girls entertained us and Bethany told the long saga of how one of the two cats on board had inadvertently gone overboard two nights before when they left Maine to come to Gloucester. They had to return to Maine and somehow found the cat hiding in a floating dock near home. The cat was the calmest creature, perfectly happy on the boat despite being manhandled by the youngest daughter, Calypso. We never saw the alleged second cat, rather like our Buster at home who never showed herself to company.
There was another schooner similar to the Alert sailing near us so we could conveniently take pictures of a pretty boat that looked like ours. A half moon appeared on cue to make the pictures even better. It was quite lovely sailing under wind power, not hearing any power boats, and not being crowded with too many other tourists.
The pleasant two-hour cruise became even more idyllic when the sun went down and started a fine light show in the sky. We all started snapping pictures in the golden light, following the lead of the professional photographer who was one of the passengers and a friend of the family. All that was missing were cocktails. If I ever find myself in Casco Bay, Maine (not far from Portland but about an hour’s drive…I’m pretty sure we actually drove there when we visited Portland in 2014), I will seek out Bailey Island and try to find this family for another cruise. They did an excellent job.
We docked as darkness took hold, but it was still an hour until the fireworks. Allie and I went into “downtown” Gloucester, one block inland, and found a hospitable bar, Oliver’s Harbor, to get a drink while waiting. The menu looked good and might have been a better choice for dinner, but it was a fine spot for a drink.
As it approached time for the 9:15pm fireworks, we headed back to the beachside promenade, across the drawbridge that repeatedly went up for boat traffic. It got chilly in the steady breeze and we weren’t well prepared for it but we braved it out, watching the people, dogs and boats while we waited. The fireworks went off from the Stage Fort Park itself and were quite impressive, exploding over the water. I resisted the temptation to take more pictures of fireworks so you can be thankful for that. The show went on for quite a while so we ambled back toward our car as they worked up to an emphatic finale. We were one of the first cars to escape and we made our way back to Boston, having had a fine day’s outing.
Sunday, September 4
For the past time or two we’ve been in Boston, I’ve been intrigued by the walk around Castle Island, a former island that is now connected to South Boston by reclaimed land. We Ubered over to the island, stopping first at Sullivan’s, a local fast food institution that serves a variety of seafood and other snacks. They don’t really have breakfast items, though, and with brunch coming up we didn’t want to get anything heavy like fried clams or a lobster roll. So I panicked a little when I got to the front of the line and was pressured by the counter lady to order something. I got a hot dog with mustard and Allie ordered french fries. We both got Raspberry Lime Rickeys to drink. After seeing one other person’s hot dog come out, I realized I should have at least asked for onions and relish on my dog.
The hot dog came in a New England split whitebread roll which gave me a chance to tell Allie about Howard Johnson’s, how Grandmom loved their food (especially clam chowder, fried clams and mint chocolate chip ice cream), how we often stopped at their various roadside incarnations, and also how Jacques Pepin was their head chef for a while (but I couldn’t remember Jacques’ name at that moment and Allie didn’t know who I was talking about). We had a nice little interlude, downing our food and protecting it from seagulls. But really, I’d like to go back and try some of their seafood and maybe some onion rings. Maybe with Barb…if we can do something about the seagulls.
After our snack we embarked on a walk, first by the fort which was a bit of a mystery. There was no signage or indications of its history that we could find. The main doors were locked shut. I’ve now learned that it is Fort Independence with an interesting history dating back to 1634, close to the founding of Boston. It was the headquarters of British operations in Boston during the Revolutionary War, has been rebuilt many times, and may have inspired Edgar Allan Poe (who was stationed at the fort in 1827) to write The Cask of Amontillado. There are limited tours of the fort, and evidently the only way to get into the fort is with a tour. Maybe someday.
We walked the circular path along the breakwater around the optimistically named Pleasure Bay (also designed by Olmstead as part of the Emerald Necklace but never connected). We got a fine view of south Boston harbor, lots of planes taking off from Logan Airport, and many, many people walking dogs. It was a pleasant stroll: not too hot, not too cold, and not too long. Rather than make a full circuit, we took a left along the shore of South Boston and made it as far as L Street (or Carson) Beach before we petered out and got another Uber back to Allie’s apartment.
We had a 2pm reservation for brunch with Allie’s friend Catherine at Buttermilk & Bourbon, a Southern/New Orleans influenced restaurant on Commonwealth Avenue. We were ushered inside to a rather noisy room where we met Catherine who used to live in Allie’s building and watched Perri but who has now moved to a house in Southie. Her boyfriend was away for the Labor Day weekend so she was available to spend a little time with us. Unfortunately, the noise level in the restaurant made it a little difficult to have an easy conversation. The food, advertised as shareable, wasn’t really — at least for their brunch menu; it may be more true on their dinner menu. Both Catherine and I ordered a shrimp and grits dish while Allie got a sort of southern hash. Mine was tasty but nothing all that special. Honey glazed biscuits were promoted as a signature item but they were too sweet for me, even with accompanying pimento cheese spread. We shared beignets for dessert but they were also too sweet and doughy for my taste. On the plus side, their Bloody Mary was quite good. It wasn’t a bad meal by any means, but I wouldn’t go back there for brunch. Maybe dinner.
Afterward, we walked a block over to Newbury Street which was made pedestrian-only for this and six other Sundays in the summer: Open Newbury Street. We strolled amid the throng of people, window shopping and people watching. It was a nice concept and quasi-European but a little too crowded and warm in the bright sun for our tastes, plus after a while Catherine had to leave to meet her boyfriend. Allie and I ducked into the world’s fanciest Restoration Hardware store, their Boston flagship located in an 1863 neoclassical building that used to house the Museum of Natural History. It’s an ostentatious and somewhat ridiculous display of consumerism, dressed in all colors of beige and grey…but it was cool and uncrowded, good for a few minutes of wandering around.
We headed back to Allie’s apartment for a rest and some more US Open before it was time for dinner. We didn’t really want a full meal but Allie had a gift certificate (from Catherine) for a nearby speakeasy bar/restaurant called Yvonne’s. We found seats at one of the two full bars and pondered their menus of food and drinks. I had a fancy gin and tonic while Allie got a Snapdragon. While I would have been happy with most anything on their menu of sharable items and didn’t really want a whole lot, we couldn’t resist trying three dishes: steak tartare toast (Allie’s favorite), Thai corn salad, and “Lazy Lobster Dumplings” which were chunks of lobster over ricotta dumplings with a lot of tasty toppings including onion crunchies and black truffle butter. It was all very elegant and tasty — not the bar fare I was expecting. I had no idea this restaurant existed, much less only a couple of blocks from Allie’s place. Allie said she’d been coming there since she was in college. Why weren’t we informed? I’ll be happy to go back sometime.
Monday, September 5
Having had two relatively ambitious days of touring, eating and walking, we set our sights lower for this cloudy, drizzly Labor Day. We started with breakfast at the nearby Tatte Bakery, a staple we’ve visited many times. This time, I tried the Meze Breakfast while Allie went with a tomato and goat cheese scrambled egg plate. Mine was OK but I think next time I’ll try the spinach, corn and egg plate.
We went back to the apartment and watched several episodes of Welcome to Wrexham, a new “real life” series in which two Hollywood stars buy a bottom-dwelling Welsh football team and document its presumed rise. Allie and I started watching it this weekend and we’re fairly well hooked on the implausible premise and the flagrantly adorable fans of the club.
We wiled away a few more hours with Baz Luhrmann’s Elvis movie which Allie hadn’t seen. Seeing it for my second time didn’t yield any further insight, other than a growing resentment over Tom Hanks’ needless distortion of Col. Tom Parker’s character.
Allie felt inclined toward a hot pot dinner on this rainy day so we went to a place a couple of blocks away that she wanted to try. It was actually a Japanese shabu-shabu restaurant, Shabu Zen. We sat at the long counter and got individual pots of broth, basic pork for Allie and Sichuan Spicy for me. We ordered lamb and seafood platters to share and promptly started shabu-shabuing. They gave us each a basic little bowl of soy sauce with spring onions and garlic on the side as well. It was all quite good but I think we missed out by not requesting more dipping sauces and condiments to build our own sauce. I’m still a fan of proper Mongolian hot pot and very happy that we have Hot Pot Hero with its full fixings bar of condiments near our house. We’ve yet to find its equal in Boston…just about the only type of cuisine where Howard County wins, so far.
While at dinner we were able to see some of the exciting match between Frances Tiafoe and Rafael Nadal. We went back to Allie’s apartment to see our fellow Marylander Tiafoe pull off his biggest win to date. He later lost in the semifinals to the 19-year old phenom and eventual winner Carlos Alcaraz, but it was a great run while it lasted.
Tuesday, September 6
I bid adieu to Allie and Perri at the civilized hour of 8am to catch my flight back home. I got my own Lyft to the airport, which cost slightly more than the taxi did to Allie’s. There was a small delay for my flight which gave me time to eat an expensive and mediocre frittata breakfast at the airport. The flight itself was uneventful other than I luckily got an exit row window seat with extra leg room and no one sat next to me…like first class for Southwest.
I had a very nice weekend and I hope Allie did as well. Cheering her up was, after all, the point of the trip. I think it worked, at least for the short term. We had some time to talk about her work, career and touched lightly on her personal life which is not my area of expertise. I tried to let her know that she is loved, she’s doing very well compared to the vast majority of the rest of the world, she lives in a cool city in nice circumstances. And she’s got Perri who is only a demon for short bursts of time. If she feels a little down about her circle of friends and the pressures they put on her, maybe it’s a good time to focus on work or some other interests for a while, but to be patient. Most of all, we love her dearly and will support whatever directions she chooses to find her happiness. And we’ll be back up in a month to celebrate birthdays and find more places to eat.
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