Building the American Dream Part 1: Why I Loved BOSTON

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Ah, Boston. The rebel born child of independence. The strong firstborn that once raised it’s fist to it’s hated colonialist parents. It’s the city that wore a scowling “screw you” on it’s face while it turned it’s back on everything safe and familiar that it once knew. It’s a place built on leadership; a place built on sheer grit. That’s the way it was in times past, and you can still pick up on that vibe when walking the streets today. The people of Boston are strong. They stick together; and they don’t need you to make it on their own.

I’d like to begin by saying that I’m really excited about this share. Boston was one of my later stops on a road trip from Louisiana to Montreal, Canada. In all, we drove a grand total of about 4,100 miles, from the southern tip of the country, all the way to the northernmost part. One of the most surprising aspects of the trip was feeling like the United States, this huge idea of a place in my mind, in fact seemed so small. Boston is only about 24 hours away from my house, a journey split easily into two days in the car. The people, the ideas, the bustle of Boston are entirely their own subculture, part of which is the very foundation that the U.S. was built on.

Now, I won’t use this post to toot my patriotic horn. The States is a great place to live, but I’ll admit we’ve made some stupid globalist decisions in years past. We’re no longer the new, hip, kid on the block from 200 years ago. Somehow we’ve managed to turn into the very colonial controlists parents that we used to hate. We’re the new England. That being said, here are my top reasons to love Boston, the place where that old, deep rooted, rebellious spirit caught aflame.

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For those of you who have been with me for a while, you know that I am a history lover. I usually design most of my adventures (and sometimes misadventures) around the significant available historical sights that are around. I’ve always been more of a world history kind of girl, that is, ahem, until I visited Boston. Boston is all things American History. The lives of patriots Samuel Adams & John Hancock, as well as the enslaved writer Phillis Wheatley come alive in the Granary Burying Ground, a cemetery right in the middle of a plethora of skyscrapers. In no other place but Rome have I had a sense of juxtaposed things so old and so new, so close to one another. Seemingly sacred ground, there lays the remains of people who fought for what they believed in. Never before had I felt so close to the American spirit, that tenacity that won’t take no for an answer.
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As far as tourism goes, Boston really has a nice little setup going for it. In the center of town you start on the Freedom Trail. It’s a short walk on a bright red brick pathway. It makes stops along the sight of the Boston Massacre, the Paul Revere House and The Old North Church. You’ll walk right by the oldest eatery in America. During my stay, I didn’t do any sightseeing involving the Boston Tea Party– meaning, that I didn’t do a tour or anything. I simply went out to the harbor for a good look. All I can say is, I wonder how much of that water was actually brewed into tea that night? It’s a shame that no one tipped over a shipment of sugar to go with it. It’s a rather large abyss of a body of water. Coincidentally, we still hate taxes to this day. They must have been really motivated to go about sinking a whole shipment of tea.
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As I sit here and type, I’m craving a cannoli from Mike’s Pastries. You can read about my delightful experience at Mike’s here at: A Foodie’s Guide to the Northeast

Did I mention the fantastic cityscape? Interesting Architecture?
The question for me is: can Boston rival New York? I guess we will have to see. I’ve been to NYC before, but didn’t get to truly enjoy my stay because I was sick. I’ll get the chance to re-do my stay in NYC in January, I’ll let you know what I think.
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