Political and economic upheaval around the world may serve as effective pest control for the travel bug, but it sure doesn’t alleviate cabin fever. Lucky for us that we already live in a vacation spot, where we can be tourists without leaving the comfort of our own hometown. It’s only a matter of calling in sick, grabbing your coat, and hitting the streets: no jet lag, no baggage claim, no traveler’s checks, no worries. Best of all, no guidebooks; let the Phoenix be your public escort, and no one will take you for anything other than the savvy Bostonian you truly are.
Here, then, is a grab bag of ideas you can mix ’n’ match for a custom-made tour.
History
The Freedom Trail (Visitor Center, 15 State Street, Boston, 617-242-5624). If you’ve never walked it, don’t knock it. Though it may be a pilgrimage for Constitution-thumpers getting up in arms (pun intended) about all things Revolutionary, it’s as much about peace as it is about war. Like all long walks, it invites tranquil reflection, leading you quietly through the Boston Common to such oddly charming, placid spots as the Granary Burial Ground, where among the slate tablets engraved with winged skulls lie not only various Founding Fathers but also Elizabeth — a/k/a Mother — Goose. If, while en route to Bunker Hill, you really want to play tourist, take a left at Paul Revere’s house and grab a cannoli at Mike’s Pastry.
The Old State House (206 Washington Street, Boston, 617-720-1713). If you’ve only got time for a Freedom step or two, however, this may be the place to take it. As the site of the Boston Massacre, the Old State House possesses a sort of morbid glamour reinforced by audio accompaniment — you can pick up a phone and " listen to the sounds of the massacre " at one interactive display — and by such exhibits as " A History of Boston through Fire. " But that’s what makes it fun; the voices of ghosts debating America’s future seem only just out of earshot.
Trinity Church (545 Boylston Street, Boston, 617-536-0944). America doesn’t, as a rule, have much on Europe when it comes to sacred architecture, but it just so happens that Boston houses an important exception: Trinity Church, whose " Richardsonian Romanesque " design, named for renowned 19th-century architect Henry Hobson Richardson, in fact caught on across the pond. The interior of the fanciful reddish-brown edifice that has long distinguished Copley Square is dramatic in scope but unusually subdued in palette: beyond the gilt-and-marble chancel and altar, all is shadowy and deep-hued, even the stained glass. The effect, particularly if perchance you walk in during organ practice, deliciously evokes The Phantom of the Opera.
McKim Building, Boston Public Library (700 Boylston Street, Boston, 617-536-5400). The old wing of the BPL isn’t just another vivid reminder that they don’t make ’em like they used to; its ambiance is too generous, too welcoming to brook much regret. Mosaics, murals, and marble, the three M’s of civilized settings, abound with three stories; the highlight, however, is surely John Singer Sargent’s rich mural sequence Triumph of Religion, with its ambitious, once-controversial attempt to depict the history of religious depiction itself — that is, to trace the evolution of iconography.
Faneuil Hall (617-523-1300). Though shamefully cookie-cutter as a shopping center, it remains an icon among Boston’s public spaces. Despite architectural modifications here and there, the Hall itself still retains the essence of the original 1742 structure, wherein revolutionaries declaimed and vendors hawked; and if Quincy Market has mostly McDonaldized, a few refreshingly creaky holdovers still stand. Durgin Park, for one, stubbornly continues to cultivate its down-home, sleeves-up image, what with the long communal tables covered with red-and-white-checked cloths, the chatter and clatter, the ploughman’s portions of cornbread and baked beans, and the hefty steaks. It all seems to say, " C’mon, be a sport " — which is what playing tourist for a day is all about, n’est-ce pas?
Art
Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum (280 The Fenway, Boston, 617-566-1401). Dreary winter afternoons were made for the Gardner and the rejuvenating glow of its courtyard. The three-story atrium, lush with flowers, decorative tiles, and sculpture, is in fact this museum’s true masterpiece. Though neither Sargent’s sultry flamenco dancer nor the few Rembrandts remaining after a never-solved burglary are to be missed, it’s the serene atmosphere that makes our own mini-Frick so special.
Museum of Fine Arts (465 Huntington Avenue, Boston, 617-267-9300). Really, when was the last time you went just to go, out-of-town guests or no? Exactly. You don’t have to cram culture down your own throat; just pick a gallery or two, and experience thoroughly. A satisfying choice: the collections of African and Oceanian art, peopled by dream-worldly, mesmerizing yet humorous figures and artifacts. And if you like that, you’ll be enchanted by the witty Japanese netsuke.
Grolier Poetry Book Shop (6 Plympton Street, Cambridge, 617-547-4648). In the ultimate college town, there are bookstores and then there are bookstores. Grolier, in the latter category, is a national treasure, on a par with Iowa City’s Prairie Lights and precious few others in terms of its dedication to poetry. Though tiny, every inch of wall space and then some is occupied by poetry, poetry, poetry; and if owner Louisa Solano hasn’t heard of it, it probably doesn’t exist. Leisurely browsing, while hardly discouraged, isn’t really the point here; the air is charged with the heat and vertigo of poetic discourse, and you just have to breathe it in for as long as you can stand it. Just watch out for the dog.
Fogg Art Museum (32 Quincy Street, Cambridge, 617-495-9400). This Harvard institution is the National Public Radio of Boston’s art museums: smaller in scale, sharper in detail than all the rest. It’s rare not to have the galleries, with their richly hued walls, practically to yourself; the quiet allows for real intimacy with the works themselves. And they, in turn, are suffused with the atmosphere’s warmth; from Ingres’s nudes to Picasso’s blues, even formidable masterpieces have an unusual air of accessibility.
Kid stuff
Harvard Museum of Natural History (26 Oxford Street, Cambridge, 617-495-3045). A two-minute trek from the Fogg will deposit you here, at the home of Leopold and Rudolph Blaschka’s celebrated Glass Flower garden. Whatever the scientific merits of these startlingly lifelike models of stamens, pistils, buds, and such, the fact is that in their trompe l’oeil intricacy they’re a joy to behold (seek out, especially, the cacti and the iris). Meanwhile, assuming your childhood appetite for size and sparkle hasn’t waned, you can indulge it with a gander at the 42-foot Kronosaurus skeleton or the amusingly, disturbingly huge ground sloth. Or, take a tour of the considerable mineral and gemstone display (including gorgeous Marimekko-esque chalcedony specimens).
Duck Tour (790, Boylston Street, Boston, 617-723-DUCK). If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. Enough said. The seasonal quacking resumes in April.
New England Aquarium (Central Wharf, Boston, 617-973-5200). Few are the crotchety who can resist the magic spell of the aquarium. While the big draws are the ever-circling occupants of the central four-story tank — including sharks and giant eels — and the adorable legions of penguins waddling atop their rocks, it’s really the sideshow creatures that’ll steal your heart, from the tilting seahorses to the shy octopuses. Whoever thought it was funny to open a Legal Sea Foods across the way should be (insert your favorite man-eating-shark joke here).
Luxe
Charles Street. By Boston standards, nothing is quite as picturesque as Charles Street, where, among the streetlamps and the red brick and the wooden shutters, feather-plumed ladies and top-hatted gents seem just around the corner. And they are, in their current incarnation as the doers of lunch — ducking here into the ubiquitous antique shops, there into one of the many boutiques bearing that hallmark of minimalist chic, the one-word name: Box, Wish, Good, etc. There’s much fun to be had pretending you can afford something at Koo de Kir (34 Charles Street, Boston, 617-723-8111), where the home accessories have a handpicked-by-Sade feel — sleek and geometric, ceramic and chrome, earth-toned. Even more fun: hanging around Fi Dough (103 Charles Street, Boston, 617-723-3266) to catch doggies (as opposed to foodies) in the act of procuring a few of this pet bakery’s carob-covered, bone-shaped cookies.
Newbury Street. It’s what puts the " new " in " Newbury " : the vibrant bustle, unceasing yet ever-changing; the luxury isn’t in the purchasing power but in the time you take to be a part of the crowd. Among the many shops displaying a flair for the global — Mayan, Himalayan, Persian — Kakadu (291 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-437-6666) stands out; from placemats and tea trays to mirrors and clocks, all its products, hand-painted with rainbow-bright fish and birds (not, apparently, cockatoos; the store’s name refers to an aboriginal Australian version of paradise), embody whimsy. And the Dali-does-Disney aesthetic at home furnisher Zoe (279 Newbury Street, Boston, 617-375-9135) is always worth a browse.
Top of the Hub (Prudential Center, 800 Boylston Street, Boston, 617-536-1775). The designers rightly took a hands-off approach to this restaurant’s décor; it’s the view from the Prudential’s 52nd floor that people come for. From the harbor to the downtown skyline to the trees and hills beyond, the scenery acts as a sort of visual love potion to accompany your pricey-but-usually-worthy meal. So bring your honey and drink it up.
Ruth Tobias can be reached at ruthiet@bu.edu
