Ye Olde Crappe

May 27, 2008

Screw the trolleys and duck boats, bicycle tours are the way to go. Urban Adventours puts on a kick ass show of Beantown, complete with a ride past Fenway (Hi Ted Williams!), the Back Bay (Hi Swamp Fill!), through the Common (Hi Protesters!), downtown (Hi Drunk Guy!), around the wharf (Hi Big Dig!), the North End (Hi Cannoli!), up Beacon Hill (Hi John Kerry!) and down back through town (Hi Earthfest jerks!). Highly, HIGHLY recommended. If you are going to the Cradle of Liberty, DO THIS TOUR. While booking online, I googled for a coupon code, and saved 15%. Once the tour was over, we happily gave our guides this back and then some in the form of a tip. You will be THAT pleased.


Trinity Church: I don’t care if it floats, just get the hell out of my way

We are quite a few Benjamins lighter, seemingly due to the price of Martinis, but when you consider the sheer amount of fruit infused swank in the Hub, it’s amazing these didn’t set us back more. The best crab cake ever in the history of crab cakes eaten by me is found at Oceanaire, which spoiled us immensely. For a lobster town, they sure give crab its due.


It’s not on Milk St, but they named it after YOU, Shorty!

As for you, Portsmouth, New Hampshire, you are a cute granola twinged town that those boomer knick-knack ladies must simply adore. Props to the Portsmouth Brewery for the most flavorful Hefewiezen I’ve tasted in a while.


Portsmouth’s very own ‘Man’s Inhumanity to Man’

Onward to Kennebunkport… whilst driving past the Walker’s Point compound, in a snarky moment of well-timed fortune on our part, a dude in a Volvo drives past, rolls down his window and shrieks, “Your son’s an asshole!” Poor H-Dubya. Now that he knows this nugget of information about his Li’l Bush, he will most surely be crushed.


Jenna is the asshole. I would NOT have turned down this spread for my wedding.


Above: The New England Patriots; we probably would have owned Britain’s ass much more quickly if we would have videotaped their warm-ups.

Below: Cambridge pipers on Memorial Day; men in skirts are feckin hawt

Oh, and btw, Boston, if that really is your name… If something was established in 1826 CE, it cannot possibly be the oldest in America. I don’t care how creamy and delish the chowder is. Were you really too busy shunning Hester Prynne to keep anything going before 1826? And here I thought you were a bunch of brainy go-getters. Hrumph.


Stickball in Harvard Yard: No, Will Hunting, we’re not sending this picture to your groundskeeping supervisor. Play on, good sir.

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One Response to “Ye Olde Crappe”

  1. Britta Says:

    This makes me want to travel to Boston! Good photos and recap.


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