We landed in fog at Logan Airport, Boston, and took the taxi to Beacon Hill. Suspicious whether the African taxi driver actually knew where it was, but he did, and he went what was probably the direct route. The apartment is on the slightly less expensive, and less well-to-do north side of Beacon Hill, but still full of character. On the fourth and top floor of an older building with creaking stairs and creaking floor boards, nicely decorated, and antique, or nearly antique furniture. After a quick orientation tour of the immediate neighbourhood we have an early US, but late Irish Italian dinner at Antonio’s Cucina Italiano, then an early night. But disrupted sleep due to noisey couple rowing in the flat below, he swearing, and her quietly crying at his load abuse, and frequent and ominous crashes and bangs, followed by even more ominous silence. Finally at 5.30 am – silence; and time for us to get up after a respectable Irish lie-in, but a far too early US start.
Monday, March 30, 2009
Day Zero
28th March 2009
We landed in fog at Logan Airport, Boston, and took the taxi to Beacon Hill. Suspicious whether the African taxi driver actually knew where it was, but he did, and he went what was probably the direct route. The apartment is on the slightly less expensive, and less well-to-do north side of Beacon Hill, but still full of character. On the fourth and top floor of an older building with creaking stairs and creaking floor boards, nicely decorated, and antique, or nearly antique furniture. After a quick orientation tour of the immediate neighbourhood we have an early US, but late Irish Italian dinner at Antonio’s Cucina Italiano, then an early night. But disrupted sleep due to noisey couple rowing in the flat below, he swearing, and her quietly crying at his load abuse, and frequent and ominous crashes and bangs, followed by even more ominous silence. Finally at 5.30 am – silence; and time for us to get up after a respectable Irish lie-in, but a far too early US start.
We landed in fog at Logan Airport, Boston, and took the taxi to Beacon Hill. Suspicious whether the African taxi driver actually knew where it was, but he did, and he went what was probably the direct route. The apartment is on the slightly less expensive, and less well-to-do north side of Beacon Hill, but still full of character. On the fourth and top floor of an older building with creaking stairs and creaking floor boards, nicely decorated, and antique, or nearly antique furniture. After a quick orientation tour of the immediate neighbourhood we have an early US, but late Irish Italian dinner at Antonio’s Cucina Italiano, then an early night. But disrupted sleep due to noisey couple rowing in the flat below, he swearing, and her quietly crying at his load abuse, and frequent and ominous crashes and bangs, followed by even more ominous silence. Finally at 5.30 am – silence; and time for us to get up after a respectable Irish lie-in, but a far too early US start.
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