In keeping with our usual way of doing things during the Fall of Travel, Friday afternoon I headed from work to the train while Matt drove to the airport. Since we were leaving from the Humphrey Terminal this time, he realized it was actually cheaper to park there for three days than to take a cab either way. We met in the lobby, checked in, got some food, and boarded our Sun Country flight to Boston. It was really strange to not be flying Delta for once.

Sun Country served hot dogs on the flight, so it was basically a huge sausage party. (No, they didn’t have a vegetarian version. Also the entire plane smelled like hot dogs. Eesh.)

We landed in Boston and headed to the rental car center where we met up with Matt’s awesome coworker, Paul, who was riding with us to Worcester. We got on the road there, and ended up at the Hampton Inn (the same place we’d stayed before, and had forgotten about) a little over an hour later. We checked in, then headed out on foot with Paul to get some dinner.

It had been about a week since a huge early snowstorm had been through the area, so there were remnants of it around Worcester. It’s unusual to come from a snowless Minneapolis and see that somewhere else first!

We walked the half mile or so to Armsby Abby, a place that Yelp seemed to think was pretty great. And it was! Though it was after 9pm, the restaurant was packed. We got a table, picked beers from their massive list, and ordered food. Everything was excellent, so I’m glad I had done some research this time… on our last visit, the place we ended up at was basically Applebee’s.

After another round of beers, we headed back to the hotel and went to bed. Matt had to be up very early, as usual.

Bright and early Saturday morning, I hauled our bags out to the car while Matt finished getting ready. In the elevator, I met an old couple from Connecticut who were staying there because they hadn’t had power for a week. (Holy crap.) We met Paul again at the breakfast buffet, then I drove them to the college where their seminar would be. It was a ways out of town, and shared the grounds with a monastery. On the way there, we noticed the huge number of trees down along the road. They were all piled very neatly in stacks lining the highway, waiting to be picked up.

After dropping them off, I consulted my very confusing Google phone-map of Worcester and tried to find my way to the interstate. I ended up lost in downtown, but finally found where I was supposed to be. I headed off in a northeasterly direction, because I was on my way to visit my last two states!

To my annoyance, our stupid green Corolla (which I nicknamed Adam, of course) didn’t have cruise control. (Satellite radio was also out, obviously.) I was able to pick up a vast array of hiphop and metal stations from Boston, though, so at least I had entertaining music along the way.

I reached New Hampshire by 9:30am, and stopped to use the rest area and grab some local maps. I’m glad I checked out the brochures, because I noticed that Stonewall Kitchen‘s headquarters were very nearby. I’ve always liked that place a lot.

As for New Hampshire, the only noteworthy thing along the way is that they have gigantic state-run liquor stores at their own highway exits. It was kind of amazing.

I decided to exit I-95 before the border and take Highway 1 into Maine instead, since I’d recently visited the opposite end of it in Key West. The border crossing happened much sooner than I expected, and I noticed that the sign read “Welcome to Maine: The Way Life Should Be.” I got a little choked up at the idea of being in state #50.

To get the business stuff out of the way first, I stopped in at the Kittery Trading Post. I’d been seeing their billboards for 40 miles, so I was aware that they would have all my tacky Maine souvenirs covered: stuffed lobster, Christmas ornament, snacks for Matt, Maine magnet. I noticed while I was there that everyone looked like a fisherman, which is exactly how I was hoping Maine would be. The accent was fantastic, too.

Following my illustrated Maine-and-Portsmouth-NH tourist map, I headed through Kittery toward the coast. I stopped at the first sight of the ocean:

I then drove up the coast and gasped as I came over a hill and saw Lobster Cove. It was a huge beach lined with cute little vacation cottages and restaurants. Most of it was closed for the season, obviously, but it was still really appealing. As I stood there taking photos, a couple of surfers walked by and said good morning. (It was 35 degrees – they’re hardcore.)

I continued up the tiny winding coastal road until I found my way to Nubble Lighthouse. I loved all the vacation cottages (some of them WAY more than cottages), and noticed that a lot of them were still occupied. I could definitely handle the off-season there. Everything about Maine was incredibly charming.

The seagulls hanging out by the lighthouse were gigantic and bossy. When I took Bally out for a picture, I was worried they were going to fly away with him.

I found my way back to highway 1, and headed over to see the Stonewall Kitchen HQ. It was completely packed with people, and in full swing for the Christmas season. I managed to do quite a bit of holiday and souvenir shopping there, though I wasn’t quite sure how I’d fit it all in our bag for the return trip. Post-shopping, I went to their restaurant and got myself a caprese sandwich for the road.

I wandered back through Kittery (which was indeed the land of outlet shopping, as one of Matt’s coworkers had mentioned). I wanted to take the little bridge across between Kittery and Portsmouth, but it appeared to be under construction. Instead I had to take the I-95 bridge back to New Hampshire. I wanted to stop in and see the Red Hook Brewery, which I’d also noticed on my tourist map. Note: if you have one of those cutesy illustrated maps, do not rely on them for actual directions. Use Google Maps instead.

After making about 10 U-turns, I finally found the brewery. I didn’t have time to take the tour, but I went in and wandered around, used their bathroom, picked up a 6-pack and souvenirs at the shop, and talked to the Santa-looking guy at the counter for a while. Then I crossed the highway and went to drive around Portsmouth, which was super-cute. It reminded me of Annapolis, with the narrow cobblestone streets and awesome shopping.

It was then time to make my way back to Worcester, so I wouldn’t be late picking Matt up. I actually made it faster than I expected, so I stopped for coffee and gas in Worcester, then drove back to the college (noting how to get back to the freeway this time) and hung out in the car reading a book. He showed up at 4pm, and it was time to head to Boston!

The drive was quick, and we spent much of it debating why the directions to our hotel were so confusing. We were staying a block from Fenway, but Google had us exiting way before that and driving all over the place. Apparently that was the correct route, though, because that’s where all the Fenway signs pointed. We got lost once and ended up circling the actual fen, then found our hotel but missed where we were supposed to park. After a lot of swearing, I finally made it into the parking lot. A man directed us to park downstairs, so we descended the ramp and were immediately greeted with a pair of rats fighting behind a dumpster. We dubbed the parking lot ‘the octagon’, and hurried the hell out of there as fast as possible.

We were staying at Hotel Buckminster, which was a cute old building in a really convenient location. Though we had a car, we figured we would have the option of taking the green line at night if we were out late. We’d also intentionally picked it because of its nearness to Eastern Standard, an awesome restaurant and cocktail bar we wanted to revisit.

The guys at the front desk were awesome, and our room was small but clean. We celebrated our arrival with a couple of beers, which took a while to enjoy since we didn’t actually have an opener with us. Matt managed it with a coat hanger instead!

We headed out to get dinner, and decided to try Eastern Standard. We ended up on the patio, which was enclosed and heated with gigantic heat lamps. (I really want to know why nobody does that in Minneapolis. It’s so awesome.) Our dinner and cocktails were excellent. Afterward, we decided to check out what was around the neighborhood. We’d seen a listing for a whiskey bar called the Citizen that also had Fernet on tap, so obviously we had to check that out.

On the way to the Citizen, walking next to Fenway, we passed two guys obviously from Minnesota: one in a Wild jersey, and one in a Gophers shirt. Funny.

The Citizen was packed. We made our way to the far side of the bar where it was standing room only, and managed to get a couple of spots there. In addition to a massive whiskey list, they had a great beer selection. We ordered drinks and shots of Fernet, which instantly earned us the bartender’s approval. Also, they arrived in skull shotglasses.

After a couple of old fashioneds, we decided to move on. (Particularly after they brought out an ENTIRE roast pig to the table behind us. Matt was excited; I was not.) We walked back toward the hotel and stopped into Cask and Flagon, mostly because we kept joking about going there. It was exactly what you expect of a sports bar across the street from Fenway. We got a couple drinks and sat down to watch the extraordinarily terrible LSU-Bama game. We were also keeping track of the Gophers hockey game on our phones, and were thrilled when they swept the Sioux. After the round of drinks, we decided we’d done our time at Cask and Flagon, and crossed over to Boston Beer Works instead.

The front of the bar seemed to already be shutting down, which was strange (it was close to midnight). We headed to the back and I ordered their blueberry beer, which had blueberries floating in it (and was extremely delicious). We sat around watching more of the terrible football game and celebrating the Gophers win. Then we decided we’d had enough of beer, and went back to visit the bar at Eastern Standard instead. We ended up having a long conversation about god-knows-what with a guy in an Iowa hoodie, and by that point it was time to sleep. After a stop for snacks at the 7-11, of course.

The next morning, we headed into downtown. It was Sunday, which made getting around slightly easier (though not much). We parked the car in a ramp in the middle of town, and walked over to Woodward for brunch. We stood at the server stand for at least five minutes before someone came over. We sat at our table without water or being acknowledged by a server for another ten. Then we got up and left for a place that didn’t suck.

We ended up at Scholars Boston Bistro instead. They were serving brunch and happened to have Kona Pipeline Porter on tap, so I was thrilled. We ate, then walked down to the harbor to wait for the ferry to the U.S.S. Constitution. While we’d visited the national park before, we’d been there too late to take the tour of the ship. It was time to fix that.

I love the ferry service. It costs only $1.70 a person to ride across Boston Harbor, and the view is excellent.

We got in line at the Constitution with a ton of students, just in time for the last tour. The ship was pretty amazing, and in great condition.

They took us belowdecks and explained how the sailors lived. That’s where we learned about the origin of the word ‘scuttlebutt’, because it was a place where the sailors gathered to get their water and rum rations, and therefore had a chance to gossip.

After the tour, we stopped in at the museum and gift shop(s) for souvenirs, then went back to the ferry just in time for sunset.

We walked through Faneuil Marketplace, and the hall full of food vendors was like torture. (I’m not sure why we didn’t stop to eat anything, we just didn’t.)

We headed over to the Omni Parker House hotel to go to their awesome bar (where we’d had martinis and warm nuts last time), but it was apparently closed on Sundays. We stood around trying to figure out where to go, and then remembered the existence of Marliave. We’d had a marginal time there on our previous visit (mostly due to a bartender who really cared what glass water was served in), but this time was way better.

After a couple of drinks there, we decided we’d go to dinner in Cambridge. Matt really wanted to visit Craigie on Main, another well-regarded cocktail bar, so we headed that direction. The place was really busy, but we only had to wait 10 minutes or so for seats at the bar. I’m glad we did, because everything there was fantastic. We had a couple of small plates (his involved squid ink, which I tried without realizing it – I guess it’s technically vegetarian, like eggs, right?) and drinks.

We ended up talking to the bartender about where we were staying, and he told us we should visit Eastern Standard. We were of course very familiar with that place, and he pointed out a guy sitting down the bar, saying that he’d designed the cocktail program there. (Cocktail nerd alert!! Very exciting!) We asked him where he was working now, and he told us to stop into Island Creek Oyster Bar, which was conveniently located right next to Eastern Standard. We made a note to stop in later.

We decided to go elsewhere for a full meal, because we’d be broke dining at Craigie. I searched in Foursquare for nearby restaurants, and we decided on Cambridge Brewing Company, less than a mile away. It took us forever to find it because it was tucked inside the courtyard of a building, but it was worth it: it’s a giant brewpub with a good beer selection and delicious pizza. We were also seated next to a table of MIT students drinking from the beer tower of power. Awesome.

After dinner, we went back to the hotel, left the car in the octagon, and walked over to Island Creek. It was a very stylish place that was surprisingly empty at that time of night. We got seats at the bar and ordered drinks. After a round, we were pretty sleepy, so we asked the bartender for our check. Before we left, he made us another sample cocktail containing our good old friend Fernet. Seriously, there is no getting away from it. (The other bartenders were doing shots of it behind the bar, of course.)

We got up Monday morning, checked out of the hotel, and drove over to Prudential Center. It’s a massive complex a couple miles away from Fenway, and has an observatory at the very top. We found our way there, and the view was totally worth it with the perfect weather.

From there, we drove over to the seaport, where the docks and the cruise ship terminals are. It’s a fascinating and kind of confusing part of town: it was really busy over the lunch hour, but we couldn’t quite figure out where all the people were coming from. We drove around looking for parking, and finally realized it wasn’t going to happen on the street: we’d have to take one of the really expensive ramps. We did that, then went out onto Northern Avenue to look for some lunch. We saw a Mexican place across the street called Temazcal Cantina, so that was our decision.

We got seats at the bar and were handed iPad menus, which was a pretty great novelty. Their food was surprisingly good, too… I was expecting something a lot more chain-y. We liked that it looked out on the harbor, too.

After lunch, we walked down to the Marine Industrial Park to the Harpoon Brewery. Bally met a lobster along the way.

They didn’t have tours on Mondays, but they did have an hour-long tasting. Having toured many breweries before, we were totally fine with that.

We sampled many many beers, and the girls working there were great. We of course picked up some souvenirs to go, and then it was finally time to head to the airport.

Our return flight on AirTran took us through Milwaukee. (Silly, but ridiculously cheap.) We hadn’t had any issues with the Boston-Milwaukee leg, but the second one was not great. They decided to leave early, but didn’t make any announcements about it. When we got to the gate half an hour before the flight, they bitched at us because we weren’t there the prescribed 40 minutes early. (You know who boards 40 minutes early? First class, and only rarely when the flight is on time.) The flight attendants were miserable, and the plane looked like it was built in 1960. We decided right then that we will never fly AirTran again.

After some struggling with Delta.com (HATE), Matt and I finally managed to get seats together in the very back row of the plane. We arrived in Boston around 7pm, got our rental car (which we promptly named Disposo 2), and headed off to Worcester. He had a presentation there in the morning.

Arriving in Massachusetts meant I’d now been to my 45th state!!

The drive was surprisingly quick. We checked into the hotel and began researching options for dinner. We finally decided on the place we could see from the window in our room, called 99 Restaurant and Pub. It ended up being an east-coast version of TGI Fridays, but we didn’t care. I got the two things on the menu without meat: a salad and french onion soup. They also had cheap margaritas. You can’t really go wrong with that.

We drove around town for a while afterwards looking for somewhere awesome to go, but that place was not apparent. After circling for a while, we decided to just go back to the hotel. It was late, and we had to get up far too early.

Very early Saturday morning, we got up and headed over to the College of the Holy Cross. If you know anything about Gopher hockey history, you’ll understand why this was special torture. I dropped Matt off for his presentation, and headed for the freeway. I had two new states to visit!

I exited just north of the Connecticut border and headed over to state route 169. I wished I had my car instead of the rental, because I’d have had the best time ever on that empty, winding road.

It looked much like I expected of New England: very picturesque and oldtimey. And of course there were a million prep schools.

I made it down to the southern end of Connecticut in surprisingly little time. Having always lived in states that take several hours to traverse, that was an absolute novelty. I headed east to Mystic, and arrived at Mystic Seaport just as it was opening.

I toured a whaling ship first, then wandered around to see the shipyards.

These ladies were working on building miniatures for the town replica. They were extremely amused that I wanted to take their picture, instead of the model’s.

I don’t usually have much interest in attractions that involve docents and historical recreations, but I enjoyed Mystic Seaport quite a bit. I’d love for Matt to go back there with me. I stopped at the store to pick up the requisite souvenirs, then took a spin through the cute little town. I had to cross the Highway 1 bridge, too; I’ve spend plenty of time on that road along other parts of the coast.

From Mystic, I drove back up to the interstate and headed into Rhode Island. State #47!! I only have three left to go: Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire. It was torture to know they were so close, too.

I got to Providence with a specific restaurant in mind. After driving around the very confusing downtown for a while and realizing I’d never find it on my own, I pulled over and got out my phone. I’d recently purchased a Motorola Cliq, and was absolutely thrilled with the travel-related features. I switched on GPS, and it led me right to the restaurant. But of course it wasn’t open til 5pm.

I did more touring of the town, but didn’t find anyplace particularly interesting. I decided to head back towards Worcester, since it was after 1pm and Matt was supposed to be done in a couple of hours.

I really loved driving in New England. Everything is so close! And it was Saturday, so there was no traffic! I stopped to see a couple little towns (including Woonsocket, just because I thought it was a funny name), then found my way back to downtown Worcester. I drove around and took a few more pictures, then stopped for gas and a delicious Dunkin’ Donuts grilled cheese. Seriously, fast food should not be that good. It’s usually not.

I had to use GPS again to find Holy Cross (it’s on top of a huge hill, but for some reason that didn’t make it any easier), but made it just before Matt and his coworker emerged from their conference. Here’s a view of Worcester from the college:

We headed back to Boston, this time with Matt driving. We made it there very quickly, dropped his coworker off at the airport, and went to our hotel to check in around 4pm. Conveniently, the least expensive hotel happened to be right on the airport property, and was also the Embassy Suites. SCORE. Our room was fantastic.

There were complicated logistics involved in the whole process, the order of which we kept forgetting: park at the hotel, check in, return the car (the rental place was almost next door), take the rental shuttle to the airport, take the airport shuttle to the T, and take the T into Boston. We were happy to learn that the Embassy Suites shuttle was able to pick us up and drop us off at the T stop, too; we didn’t have to ride the airport shuttle to a terminal.

We were in Boston by 5pm, which was much earlier than I was expecting. We got off the train and went to transfer, but the one that arrived heading to TD Garden was so packed we decided to try walking. It didn’t look far on the map, but you never really know til you’ve done it.

It turned out that it was very close. Everything in Boston seemed to be within easy walking distance. We passed Faneuil Hall on the way:

We passed a bunch of overcrowded, douchey-seeming bars (including Hurricane O’Reilly’s, which we kept referring to as Pedro O’Horny’s) and went around the corner to what turned out to be the very best bar in the neighborhood: The Penalty Box. The few reviews I’d seen mentioned the possibility of stabbing and being afraid of the bikers; it was nothing like that at all. It was just an old dive full of guys who had been going there for 40 years. They weren’t exactly welcoming, but they weren’t hostile either. We loved it.

Around gametime, we herded into the Garden (which is also a giant T stop… confusing) and pushed our way into the packed shop. Matt got a Blake Wheeler (former Gopher, who is also responsible for the greatest goal I’ve ever seen in person) tshirt, and we headed upstairs. We got surprisingly good pizza and beer, then found our seats and got ready for the game.

The Bruins were playing the Buffalo Sabres, which almost meant we got to see former Gopher Thomas Vanek as well. It was so exciting. The Bruins won handily, and Wheeler got an assist.

Oh, and there were Star Wars characters at intermission. Stormtroopers guarded the exit while Darth Vader and Chewbacca rode the zambonis. I have no idea.

After the game, Matt and I headed off in the direction of one of the best bars in Boston, according to Drinkboston.com. We used this as our guide for the whole trip, and it did not lead us astray.

Our first stop was Marliave, hidden in an alley near (what was at that moment) a burning 7-11. The place was maybe 1/3 full at 10:30pm, in keeping with all good bars. The cocktail menu was fantastic, and it was hard to choose. Luckily, we had plenty of time to look; the bartender took his time getting to us. When I asked for a glass of water, he told me he’d try to get one when he had water glasses. They were currently out.

Um, ok.

I got about halfway through my cocktail before I became fully miserable over my lack of water. I hadn’t had anything to drink since the beer at the hockey game, and we’d walked quite a bit. I was ready to leave, when they finally rounded one up. But I was so unimpressed with that bartender that we vowed to head out anyway unless we got lucky enough to be served by the other lady there, who was awesome. We wanted to try more of the menu, but not from that guy.

We got lucky, so we stayed for another round. (I appreciated the water refills, too.) While we sat there, a table ordered three long islands. The crabby bartender tried to explain that they would be very different since they didn’t have sour mix (totally understandable at an upscale cocktail bar that makes everything in-house), but they wanted them anyway. We watched as two of the long islands were returned and dumped out shortly thereafter. Haha!

We also discovered that High Life was the PBR of Boston. Every guy with a moustache and scarf there was drinking one. Strange.

Our next stop was the Last Hurrah, inside the Omni Parker House. We immediately fell in love and wanted to stay all night. They had an oldschool bar, with couches and armchairs scattered around the room. We grabbed a couch and examined their very classic menu. Sadly, our plan to stay all night was foiled by our awesome server’s announcement that at shortly past midnight, it was last call. At least we got one round in (a martini and manhattan), and a bowl of warm nuts.

Do you have any idea how much two tipsy people can be excited over a bowl of warm nuts? You might not want to know.

We decided to head next door to a bar called the Beantown Pub, just because the bouncer assured us they were still serving food. We found out shortly after grabbing a table that the kitchen had just closed. Not terribly put off by that announcement, though, we moved up to spots at the bar instead. Any good drinker knows that you should always sit at the bar if possible.

I ended up in a conversation with a guy next to us, who appeared to have been rooted to that bar stool. Grady told us his life story. The details are a little fuzzy, but they involved him living in Maine and going to school in Boston, which meant he stayed in a hotel during the week and then drove home over the weekends. He was pretty entertaining, and we were only slightly weirded out at his continued insistence that we come back to his room to drink with him. I’m pretty sure it was just the fact that drinking there was free, and nothing more creepy, but we of course did not go with him. We settled on shots instead.

Then there was the girl we named ‘Nachos’ because she kept asking us to order her nachos, not understanding the part about the kitchen being closed. And then there the sailors who wandered in and instantly had girls hanging all over them. The Beantown Pub was pretty damn entertaining.

Round about closing time, we all teetered outside and hailed cabs. The stupid T stops running at 1am. Oh, and some girl called us hicks because we got the cab instead of her. That rules.

Sunday morning, we got up… well, not so early. Which was fine, because Kingston Station didn’t start serving brunch til 11am. We got there right on time, and it was delicious.

After brunch, we started off on the Freedom Trail. I’m not usually much for that kind of historical pursuit (I prefer people and nature), but it was pretty great. It was the perfect day for it, too: almost 70 degrees!

Near the Central Cemetery in Boston Common, there were a bunch of students playing Quidditch. Seriously, people are that nerdy.

I climbed through some bushes to take a picture of the Cheers bar. That’s as close as we needed to get.

Then we went to lay on the grass in Boston Common. It was really hard to want to ever leave.

After much difficulty finding an ATM, we were able to get some cash to buy water and a map of the Freedom Trail. It’s marked with a red brick line that winds through Boston, but we wanted the descriptions of the places we were seeing. We set off toward the Granary Burying Ground, where we thanked Sam Adams for his beer. And for being such a patriot. You know.

Both Mother Goose and Paul Revere’s headstones had offerings for Charon on them.  There were also pebbles, mixing in an old Jewish tradition.

We made our way past many old buildings and churches to Faneuil Hall and the various marketplaces there. We bought a few souvenirs, but didn’t want to hang around long; we had a lot of ground to cover if I wanted to be able to photograph all the history before sunset at 4pm.

We saw Paul Revere’s house and went inside the Old North Church. The North End is really cute; I want to get back to see that area sometime.

Then we crossed the bridge over to see the USS Constitution. I think the bridge makes up a huge portion of the 2.5 mile walk, actually. Everything else is pretty nearby.

We got to Old Ironsides just as it was closing, but we did get to go into the museum. In the gift shop, we were approached by the manager. He was either really bored or really wanted to sell us expensive things; in the next 15 minutes or so, we learned all about the art of scrimshaw. Did you know that a person who works with scrimshaw is called a scrimshander? If you didn’t, I hope that you, too, spend the next 2 days laughing about it.

When the manager started telling us the history of the Jolly Roger, because “roger” is also a term for “doin’ it” (not his words), we knew it was time to go. We backed slowly to the register and paid up.

We got to the water taxi station and watched the sunset.

For a mere $1.70, a boat will come take you from the Constitution to a wharf very near Faneuil Hall. You will also get a fantastic view of Boston. I would highly recommend it.

We hopped on the T and headed out towards Allston. The green line is a trolley more than a subway, and is above ground once it leaves the city. When we later saw a tshirt reading “I hate the Green Line”, we kind of understood. It goes through multiple universities, and takes forever.

Via the wonder of our new phones, we found our way to Deep Ellum, another drinkboston.com recommendation. Between the truffle fries, homemade seitan burger, and very classic cocktails, I kind of wanted to live there. It was excellent. We decided we probably needed to move on after a couple of rounds, though, because there was a lot more to see.

Our next stop, after another long train ride, was Drink. We decided to go there partly because it was on the silver line, which could take us directly back to the airport and our hotel. It’s in the lower level of a fairly unnoteworthy building, in the kind of neighborhood you really don’t expect to find one of the most awesome bars ever.

We walked in and managed to find a couple seats next to a group of people sitting in front of the largest tiki glasses I’d ever seen in my life. There were also several bottles of liquor sitting in front of them. Matt noticed a particular rum and asked the bartender about it; she told us that they belonged to the guys there at the bar. They brought their own. How awesome is that?

Matt ended up talking to one of them for a while, and he told us they were a group of local bartenders and mixologists who are all about spreading the love. He was making a series of videos on how to do infusions and such, and discussed the insane amount of experimenting he went through to get them perfect (like waking up every hour to taste them). We ended up with his name, phone number, and email address, and a request to add him on Facebook.

We’d managed to wander into what they told us was their last ‘tiki Sunday’, so of course we partook.

After a while, the mixology group started packing up and heading out. I watched one of the guys roll all the giant tiki glasses into towels and shove them into a bag. I really want to start hauling my own barware around.

They were replaced by another group who we got talking to after one of the girls asked about my tattoos. They were celebrating a guy named Charles’ birthday (we later came to know him as “Charles from Haiti”). The celebration included a round of shots for the entire bar (purchased by the birthday boy) that included green chartreuse and god knows what else. Definitely the most expensive shots we’ve ever had.

We ended up talking to Charles for a very long time about our plan to own a bar in the tropics. This resulted in an even better idea: a barge that island-hopped around the Caribbean. Charles was so into planning it, I’m pretty sure he was about to go out and make it happen. It was hilarious.

By the time we were ready to go, it was again after the 1am train cutoff. The bar called a cab for us, and we said goodbye. On the way, the cabbie got detoured by road construction, and then got pulled over for speeding in a tunnel. We felt really bad for him, and were highly amused at the most stereotypical Boston cop ever, who apologized to us twice for the delay. We didn’t mind at all, because Boston is awesome.

We checked out Monday morning, left our bags with the porter, and headed off to brunch at Eastern Standard. This one was easy to find, as it was across the street from the T station nearest Fenway.

First of all, why isn’t the mint julep considered a brunch drink? It’s perfect! And refreshing! Second (Matt wants to know), why doesn’t all brunch have strips of bacon laying on it?

Their food was amazing, and so was their cocktail list. We’ll need to stop back there at night sometime. Oh, and credit again to drinkboston.com for the recommendation!

We walked over to Fenway and bought tickets for the tour. I hate the Red Sox almost as much as I hate the Yankees, but it’s still an amazing stadium.

Because it was the offseason, we even got to sit in the press box!

We still had a few hours left before we had to be at the airport, so we decided to ride over to Harvard Square and look around. We saw Harvard, and it was exactly as expected.

Then we stopped into Charlie’s Kitchen and had a beer. Then, sadly, it was time to go get our bags and head to the airport.

Upon check-in, we noticed that we no longer had seat assignments. It appeared that Delta had switched planes or something, because they were reissuing a ton of boarding passes at the gate. We put in our request to sit together (since we’d purchased tickets separately), and crossed our fingers. Oh, and I swore a lot. Me and Delta, we have issues.

The plane was almost completely boarded before they called our names, but it was all for the good: they put us in row 5, right behind first class. For right that moment, Delta was forgiven.

But not for long!