To Boston and beyond...to brave the heat, the crowds, the closed in spaces, and my own innate clumsiness (Part 2)

Hyped as a historic mall food court, Quincy Market calls to me, for some unfathomable reason, like a siren's song. And why not? Who wouldn't want to battle teeming crowds of overly-seasoned tourists in July through narrow passageways to bellow your order to dismissive employees who view their clients as cattle for you to then fight to the death for the rights to a sticky table?

This girl.

Who is claustrophobic, agoraphobic, enochlophobic, and menopausal? 

This girl.

All for lobster bisque in a bread bowl.

Lisa was understandably baffled. Savannah was heroically determined.

Survived it. Was worth it. Would do it again (in another five years).

In addition to the Swan Boats, my other request on this trip (besides torturing myself with Quincy Market) was to tour the U.S.S. Constitution, famously named "Old Ironsides." Up to this point, I had only viewed this famous vessel through the smudged windows of a tour bus or a quick "fly by" on a Duck. A key player in the War of 1812, this frigate is the oldest Navy warship still in service. She never lost a battle....unlike me who began wilting under the unrelenting rays of the scorching sun the minute we got dropped off at the harbor. The journey across the parking lot had me ready to wave the white flag of surrender.

To put it quite simply, she is splendid. The woodwork gleamed, ropes were woven magically into tight spirals and tucked to the side. She rocked gently as I walked, in awe, across her deck...a history book brought to life. The U.S.S. Constitution is the equivalent of a four-story building and I braved the ladder down to her second level, fighting my anxiety as I stood, stooped, before a gallery of long cannons. A patient and knowledgeable young man gave a brief presentation about the vessel, blowing my mind by dispelling the long-held myth that the warship was nicknamed "Old Ironsides" because enemy cannonballs would bounce off her hull which were constructed of resiliently sturdy live oak. "Bounce would not have been an adequate verb to describe how The U.S.S. Constitution withstood the bombardment," the sailor explained. He had me at "verb." Any member of the armed services who effortlessly whips out their parts of speech is a credit to our great nation. "Simple physics can explain the phenomenon," he continued while I swooned, either from the heat, the closed quarters, or his academic prose. He then dropped the phrase "kinetic energy" and my knees buckled. Apparently, the live oak had the ability to absorb the impact of the incoming cannon balls, creating a ripple effect that dissipated the destructive force of the armament. How I wished for an accordion fan. Oh my beating heart.

Lisa and Savannah braved the decks below while I returned topside to fry in the afternoon sun. Savannah returned and, alarmed, rushed me into the museum. Best air conditioning EVER. Highly recommend. 

Our Uber driver arrived soon after. We were separated from her by a low chain fence which Savannah and Lisa skipped nimbly over. Not to be out-done, I followed...immediately tripping and performing an awkward and near-catastrophic stumble dance that was mere seconds from a painful face-plant (had I not been so graceful and dexterous). Applauding my success, the driver waited until I got settled into her backseat before commenting on the hot weather. "Maybe next time," she said, winking at me in the rear view mirror, "you should skip the Constitution."