Saved in Boston

So the plan was to hop in the car and drive off to the Ayers / Nashua bike trail. The morning was, um, quite cold, but crystal clear. The previous night had not been restful due to an exuberant wedding party that just would not quit. We did manage to get free breakfasts and 10,000 extra Marriott points for our bleary-eyed complaints, so that was OK.

After a few false turns we found ourselves in the middle of Ayers, Massachusetts. A pretty depressing post-industrial place with a Subway, a Mobil station and a Dunkin' Donuts. The trail nonetheless, presented itself, along with a fully outfitted couple of young cyclists with East European accents. Dressed in skin-tight black cycling pants they sped off ahead of us onto a leaf covered trail. We darted around several downed branches and ducked under several dangling branches before we encountered the yellow police tape and "Do Not Enter" sign across the trail. The young couple picked up their bikes and went around the tape. What could we do? Of course, we followed them. But it got worse and worse, and more and more dangerous. When we finally encountered an entire enormous oak tree across our path we turned around. Arriving back at the car, we realized our friends had followed us out. Now what? Our mood had rapidly changed from cheery to cranky. It was a beautiful day. We couldn't ride our bikes. It was futile to find another trail, especially since it would be getting dark early on this first day back in EST. So...Boston!

We set the GPS and headed southeast. After briefly discussing parking strategies, we decided to drive directly to Newbury Street and take our chances. We crossed the Mass Ave Bridge (does it have another name?) from Cambridge and immediately found a parking place on the street! A good omen! We could not ride our bikes because we didn't have our helmets and they are rightly pretty strict about it in Boston. We don't always use them on trails because we are not that fast, and I often get splitting headaches from mine. Also, the wind blowing through my hair makes me feel like a ten year-old! But we are (ok, I am) fairly law-abiding so another day of urban-hiking was in order.

We headed up Newbury Street, across the Common and noted the bizarrely green grass and trees that had not yet lost their leaves. We had just gone through a treacherous winter week but it looked and felt, like late September. Strolling up Charles Street we thought first of brunch at the Beacon Hill Bistro, but there would be an hour wait, so we continued to Toscano Restaurant. I remembered having a delicious pasta lunch there years ago with Margaret and Sheila (both together or separately I'm not sure). It did not disappoint! I had a delicious butternut squash soup that had tomatoes and Parmesan croutons with a tricolore salad, and Ray had a seafood stew. After lunch we crossed over to the park along the river and walked back to our car. Boston is so beautiful! We debated the virtues of a pied-à-terre there or in Providence. I love Providence, but as long as this is all imaginary, I vote for Boston.

Once back in Tolland, we commiserated with the neighbors, got some more underwear and headed over to the Meegans, who had graciously accepted to feed us and lodge us for the night. We watched the Patriots lose, ate a wonderful spaghetti dinner and learned that our power was back on. Briefly, as it turned out, but long enough to drain the septic system. We were highly skeptical about the return of power without any work having been done. Had they simply flipped a switch that could have been flipped a week ago? Were they just trying to pump up their numbers for the evening news? Awfully transparent, its seems to me.