Tuesday, March 26th
The minute we parked and tried to make our way to the hotel, confusion erupted. Having located the elevators, Big and I figured that it would be an easy shot to the hotel and eventual relaxation. That was not the case, for the elevator we chose led us to what looked like a shopping mall. This was not something we were expecting, so we went back down the elevators only to decide to ride them back up again. This time, we actually exited the elevators to see that yes, we were in a mall, and yes the hotel was in that general area. With our scads of bags, we made it through check in and to our room.
That evening, my main mission was to acquire my dancer ID card and the necessary wristbands, purchase and peruse the program, and buy my worlds t-shirt. This was easier said than done. Big and I had no clue how to get to the Hynes, so we adopted that age old strategy of following the people in the wigs and/or worlds-caliber outfits. After wandering past many shops, we made it to the Hynes, and most importantly the vendors section. I was given my ID card with a little patience, and purchased my program. After wandering around the vendors (so sparkly) and wondering where the competition halls were (not labeled), it was decided that my worlds shirt would have to be bought first thing the next morning simply because of the sheer volume of people.
Having exhausted our sense of adventure for the day somewhere between a long drive and crowded convention center, we decided to eat at the hotel's bar. That night, I had my first taste of New England Clam Chowda. The more I ate it, the more my mouth warmed up to the idea of liking clams, but that could have also been the Angry Orchard speaking. After that, It was most decidedly bedtime.
Wednesday, March 27th
After waking up (and now that we had the lay of the land under our belt), I made sure I was first in line at the t-shirt vendor. With the last of my I Need It checklist checked off, Big and I made our way off to the Boston Commons to start the Freedom Trail.
In all honesty, we made it less than halfway. Shortly before lunch, we arrived at Faneuil Hall, stocked to the brim with shopping. The Christmas store was our first stop, where I found an Irish dancer ornament that I got personalized to read "Boston 2013." Next stop was the Newbury comics store, chock full of comics and other pop culture items. (Doctor Who, anyone?) There, I purchased a tiny key chain sized version on Captain America's shield to accessorize my new purse to rep my Star Spangled Girl with the Curls attitude of course!
Lunchtime was held at the Union Oyster House, which is apparently Boston's oldest restaurant. There was much New England Clam Chowda to be had, followed by the most delicious lobster ravioli. We left stuffed and not looking forward to the long haul back to the Marriott. It was this moment that we realized that as Washingtonians and seasoned Metro riders, we could definitely handle the Boston T (which surprisingly leaves a little to be desired).
After our hour of afternoon relaxation, Big decided that she wanted to see if Marshall's had anything worthy of a going out outfit for the evening. On our way though, we got distracted by the huge (sexy) Boston Public Library. The best part of our aimless wander through this bibliophile's heaven was stumbling upon the Courtyard restaurant, who just happened to be serving afternoon tea. In the library. With all the fixin's. It was the best accidental discovery of the day.
The evening was spent at this wonderful joint called a piano bar. The set up is this: two pianists and other musicians there to entertain you with songs that are popular with the crowd (Don't Stop Believing) or requested (Baby Got Back). Howlin' at the Moon is one of those places where the more you drink, the more you sing, the more fun you have.
To be continued...
Goals: The troubling hornpipe rhythm
Days till NANs: 86