The moment I stepped off the MAX at the Portland airport, I finally began to feel the excitement of my new lifestyle. Everything that could be done before I left had been done. All that remained now was for me to get on a plane and head to Boston.
MAX red line train to the airport, leaving from Beaverton transit center. photo credit: wikimedia.org
For those of you not in the know, a bit of back story: After my boyfriend graduated with his PhD in Medical Informatics in June of 2013, he accepted a post-doctoral position at Northeastern University.
He moved to Boston Boston (or, more accurately, North Billerica) in March, and it seemed only fitting that I spend about a week with him before jetting off to Wales. Plus, it would give me a few days to adjust to being homeless before I left the country.
The great thing that happened during my Boston week is that the flight I was on to Boston was overbooked. In volunteering to give up my seat for a slightly later flight, not only was I upgraded from middle-seat economy to window-seat in economy plus (actual leg room!), but I also received a $250 voucher from United. That’s a third of a trip to Europe, or half a domestic ticket!
(And, by the way, I highly recommend economy plus seating if you fly on United. I actually had enough room to cross my legs without smacking into the seat in front of me).
The downside to this volunteerism means that although I arrived in Boston at 12:45 am, my bags had only gotten as far as Houston. But no worries – United delivered them to me the next day.
The Boston skyline at night, as seen from Cambridge. (Not as seen from my airplane, which came in from over the bay). photo credit: wikimedia.org
The first couple of days we were in Boston, I mainly stayed in the house and worked. That’s the thing about this nomadic lifestyle – it sounds glamorous (and parts of it definitely are!), but you still have to work if you want to keep making money. So I curled up on the couch with Hagrid, the house dog, and the two cats who came to visit from time to time.
And, when I got bored with their company, I could always get up and go see the lovebird in the bathroom, or Cinder the beautiful black rabbit in the back door entryway. Did I mention that my boyfriend’s roommates are a veterinarian and a vet tech? 🙂
Plus, Zeph’s own cat stays in his bedroom, so there’s always Beeze to hang out with.
Meet Beeze – a delightful long-haired male cat who can never get enough human love, but hates his fellow felines.
My boyfriend and I had rented a studio through Airbnb for Thursday – Sunday night, so on Thursday afternoon I took the commuter train into North Station. It was an actual train, awfully beaten up, and with a real live conductor! Two of them, actually.
It took me about three stops to realize that the conductor was actually announcing the names of the stations as we went by. But even after I realized that, I had no idea what he was actually saying. I’ve never been as far north as Boston before, and his accent was pretty strong.
It was that experience, along with walking to Dave’s Fresh Pasta later for groceries, that made me realize I was actually in Boston.
Dave’s makes fresh home-made pasta, like the chicken ravioli we got for dinner. Photo credit: businessinsider.com
The houses are just like what I’ve always seen on TV, but not in real life – I think they’re called colonial?
Anyway, they weren’t like the houses you’d see in downtown Portland, or anywhere else I’ve traveled. In retrospect, I think that 30 minute walk to the grocery store, and 30 minutes back again, was the most pleasant part of the weekend.
I love exploring cities, and just taking what they look like, how they feel, what the traffic is like (terrible, just as my boyfriend says), and what’s in the parks. It was warm and sunny, so that was great. And it was nice to come “home” to a place with just the two of us (no cats, dogs, rabbits, or birds), and make dinner.
Zephy cooking pasta at the Airbnb studio apartment
Unfortunately, that was the last bit of sight-seeing we did. My boyfriend woke up early on Friday morning with horrible intestinal pains. And while we were pretty sure they were just that, I didn’t want to take any chances. What if it was appendicitis? What if it was something worse?
Being in an unfamiliar part of town, without a car, and without a primary care physician (his insurance had just come through the week before), we called an ambulance and headed to the emergency room. Which, as it turned out, was a mere half a mile up the street.
They kept us there for several hours, but in the end it turned out to be exactly what we had imagined it to be: severe intestinal pains caused by gas. They released us with the usual “rest and drink plenty of water” recommendations and sent us home.
Back from the Emergency Room
We stayed pretty close to home over the weekend. One of his roommates drove into town to play board games with us on Saturday, and we went out to brunch with the roommates again on Sunday.
And in between, he and I played games, and talked, and slept. And while I’m a little bit sad that we didn’t get out to explore more of Boston, I really enjoyed the weekend. After the craziness of chorus contest and packing, packing, packing, it felt good to just relax and be lazy. Plus, the weather was cold and wet (though not always raining), and I know I’ll be back in Boston several times over the next two years.
I did get to see a bit of his office on Monday, since it was sort of on the way to the airport. Being back on a campus, even one as urban as Northeastern, felt very comfortable to me. I don’t know if it’s an atmosphere, a smell, or what, but I am very sensitive to places, and Northeastern felt like home right away. And the cafeteria smelled like college cafeterias everywhere, and the burger tasted like cafeteria burgers. It was delightful. 🙂
photo credit: mondoweiss.net
All in all, Boston was a lovely interlude between packing and leaving for vacation. The emergency room adventure is one that we could have done without, but hey – as far as emergency room visits go, it had the best possible ending we could have hoped for. And my first Airbnb experience went really well, so I’d definitely do that again.
Coming up next: Dublin and Wales!
Until next time,
~ Felicity
Boston — you returned to your “middle namesakes” ancestor’s home, be it about 250 years later. The “accents” should have told you that you weren’t in Portland anymore!
Memories — in 10-20 years, this might turn into “The Boston visit when you forced Zephy to go to the hospital” rather than an unfortunate event.
I didn’t know I had roots in Boston! That’s cool. I didn’t actually hear too many atrocious accents until the train, but I guess people who work at the airport are probably a bit less accented than the rest of Boston.
I hope this is a funny memory years from now. It’s pretty funny in the re-telling, and that picture of all the lead/sticker things attached to his body is pretty great all on its own.
Several familial roots, the Sergeant line being the most notable. One of your multiple great-grandfathers actually drowned in Boston harbor (Samuel, around the beginning of the American revolution).
The only remaining “legacy” is now “Sargent’s Wharf” (previously Sergeant’s). It’s now a parking lot, along Boston’s Harborwalk, but was once owned by family…