I'm flying from Ronald Reagan National Airport, which means I can take the subway there. I just need to change once.
There has, indeed, been 6 inches of snow overnight. But it isn't that cold, just about freezing. There's not a huge amount of disription and flights seem to be operating normally.
As I'm already checked in, I only need to drop off my bag. But the US Airways bag drop off is pretty chaotic. I end up queueing with everyone else. It's a bit crap, really. As I've plenty of time. - and my flight is delayed - I've plenty of time. Even the security check doesn't dishearten me too much.
I've time for a beer, and a whiskey, before my flight. So why not, eh? I've hardly drunk a drop the last couple of days. It's an odd feeling, knowing that the business part of the trip is over. There'a a strange void. What should I do?
Boston is a great town. I always have a good time here. It just has one tiny little fault: the taxis are crap. As we pootle along through various tunnels, I suspect we're not going the shortest. My suspicion is confirmed when we emerge into the light. We're down by a part of the bay not between the airport and my hotel. Cheating bastard. The driver doesn't get the usual tip.
Ensconced in my hotel room, I email Dann and Martha, asking if they fancy a beer or two this evening. They suggest Deep Ellum. I don't need any persuading. It's one of my favourite pubs, nit just in Boston but the whole USA.
Given my hatred of Boston taxis, I consider walking there. But it's just a little too far. Bugger. I'll have to take a cab.
The taxi driver just about speaks English, or something vaguely resembling it. He hasn't heard of Cambridge Street. It's only one of the city's main thoroughfares. He tries to set off in the wrong direction until I point him the right way. He guarantees me the fare won't come to more than $13. That's reassuring. Unlike his knowledge if the city.
True to his word, the journey costs less than $13.
Dann and Martha are already inside. I'm surprised how awake they look. They had an early start (a very early start) and have been brewing at Buzzards Bay all day. For once, the brewday went like clockwork.
We eat a little cheese and sausage. And chat about beery topics. I keep thinking that there's something I should be doing, somewhere I should be. The trip has been so busy, that's been the case most of the time. I've nothing to do but sip, talk and eat. So much leisure is disturbing.
I don't make Dann and Martha stay out late. I appreciate them making the effort to come out at all. Martha calls me an Uber cab. So much more pleasant than normal taxis. The drivers even seem to know their way around the city.
Just one day left. A totally free day in Boston. What will I do?
The Home Brewer's Guide to Vintage Beer
477 Cambridge St,
Boston, MA 02134.
Buzzard's Bay Brewing Inc
98 Horseneck Rd.,
Westport, MA 02790,
Tel: +1 508-636-2288
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