In which Layla and Roz go to the gay seaside by way of Layla's Harvard past

I'd been back from a work trip for under 48 hours when I found myself leaving work on Friday night and boarding yet another plane, but this one was with Roz and our plan: a Boston/Provincetown minibreak! Or in fact, at five nights, perhaps not so mini... We arrived in Boston and settled in to the Copley Square Hotel before dashing out for dinner in a nearby and lovely Italian restaurant where I reminisced about my 2002 summer at Harvard, and we ate some very tasty butternut squash pasta... 

The next day, up bright and early, Roz coerced me out for a run, along the beautiful Charles River. Then she located a breakfast place in South Boston. Amid my scepticism we walked there - bizarre that in the 10 intervening years since I spent the summer in Boston, this area has gentrified beyond recognition. We had a posh granola/egg thing before walking up to the Park and commencing the Freedom Trail. Well, one must! It was a beautiful sunny day for it and we wove our way cheerily along the trail past various sights of historical interest and lots of cool neighbourhoods, and across the river to Charleston.  

The beautiful sunny day was getting sunnier by the minute and with our skin growing pinker, we decided to retreat to the cinema. And what better cinema than the lovely old Coolidge Corner Theater. Coolidge Corner was an area a couple of stops on the train from where I lived when I was here and at that time I was convinced that it would be the best place to live in the world. While pleased to find that my current area is actually preferable to this Nirvana, it was still lovely to amble in the lovely Brookline Booksellers, and have a pleasant slice of pizza, and lament the demise of the area's Barnes and Noble bookshop. And the film - Moonrise Kingdom - was really rather good. Afterwards I persuaded Roz to come and look at where I lived, in a lovely block on a quiet, pretty street. As we ambled through it, we overheard a girl on her phone telling her friend (presumably) that Boston didn't really suit her because she was a "suburbs" girl and didn't like living somewhere with a metro and cabs.  We mused on this afterwards, unable to (a) think of any advantages that the suburbs have over the city and (b) astonished that this quiet corner of Boston could be described as anything other than a suburb itself.  And then we had drinks at a fancy new cafe there, before returning to our hotel to beautify. 

 As you know, Roz and I have a penchant for a tasting menu, and L'Espalier was therefore the place for us! Located near our hotel in Back Bay, this was a really fancy, excellent effort, with about 10 courses which were all brilliant. It came to a disappointingly snappy end though, after just one dessert. Perhaps they thought we'd had more than enough! We rolled home, with an initial plan to stop at the hotel bar for a drink, but we realized it was full of young people, and retired to bed instead, thus designated official grannies. 

 The next day we set off on an expedition to Cragie on Main, officially designated Boston's best brunch. Technically it was in Cambridge, but after a 40 minute walk over the river and past fancy houses and MIT, we found ourselves in agreement; in fact Roz says she had the best pancakes of her life. A fitting start to the day. After we'd eaten our fill, we hopped on a train to Harvard Square and pottered around the shops and atmosphere before finding ourselves in the very lovely Harvard Coop bookstore luxuriating in the air conditioning and stocking up on a new pile of books.  After that we picked up our bags from the hotel and headed to the ICA, aka Institute of Contemporary Art. We had a late lunch (having forgotten about the pancakes...) and looked at some art which was okay but not unmissable... Lovely views of the harbour and tall ships though. Later, whiling away half an hour before our ferry to Provincetown, I realized I'd left my bank card at the ICA - cue 15 minutes of drama and angst before, hooray, we recovered it, and set sail. An hour and a half, and a beautifully scenic boat ride later, we found ourselves in a very different world - essentially a gay-themed seaside resort at the very tip of Cape Cod. 

We pulled our bags through the rainbow-bedecked main street while whale watching trip vendors competed for our attention with scantily clad boys promoting nightclubs, or naked symphonies. Our B&B was owned by a lesbian couple and was basic but fine (and very expensive - Provincetown is extremely popular). We headed out for a wander and a nice meal at Devon's, before heading home to bed. 

 The next day we made a beeline to a bike rental place and acquired bikes for the day. There's a lovely 8 mile loop, mostly on cycle paths, that goes through beaches, sand dunes and forest. Exceptionally scenic and idyllic, we zipped along in the sunshine, congratulating ourselves on an excellent plan... Til suddenly Roz's handlebars broke. They swung limply, uselessly, dangerously, and we contemplated our predicament of being several miles from anywhere... Helplessly we asked a passing cyclist or two if they could help us - they couldn't. And then the event happened that will go down in history as my moment of glory. As I heard Roz ask for an Allen key, something clicked in my head. I reached into my very city girl handbag and, incongruously, produced the very Allen key we needed to fix Roz's bike. Duly sorted, we cycled on in some delight, me with a very smug face indeed.  We had a picnic lunch on the beach and tried to swim but the Atlantic was too chilly, so we settled for reading our books. Then more cycling, culminating in a return to town and mohitos by the sea.  

 That night we had an early pasta dinner and headed off to the cinema to see My Sister's Sister, which was appallingly bad, but nice to go to the local cinema. Afterwards, we found a lovely bar on the water, and had further mohitos to salvage the evening. Very pleasant. The next day was Roz's birthday, which meant it started with a showering of presents. Then we headed off on a whalewatching trip - something we had no vision whether would excite us, but was at worst a lovely 3 hour cruise. Sure enough, we saw several humpback whales, cavorting around in the ocean, including lots of the quintessential whale viewing pose of the tail up in the air. Impressive enough... if you like that sort of thing. Back on dry land, we had tasty tofu tacos and guacamole outside at the pretty bar overlooking the water (Aqua Bar, aptly enough). And we soaked in the beachy atmosphere and cool, breezy weather, before getting on the ferry back to Boston. 

Back in Boston, I spent a while arguing with the Copley Square Hotel who had lost a dress we accidentally left in their closet, despite our calling them about it the same day. After much futile fuming, I joined Roz at the Lenox Hotel for our final night in Boston. A birthday cocktail in the hotel bar soothed some of our wrath, so it was in jolly spirits that we taxied to Oleana in Cambridge for Roz's birthday meal. Delicious Lebanese cuisine, with some really excellent dishes in a lovely ambience. Nice. We had fancied their desserts, but too full of halloumi and fattoush, we staggered back to our hotel and had a little drink and dessert in their bar. A lovely end to a lovely birthday.

And so we couldn't help our sorrow when we awoke this morning to our last day in Boston. We got up grudgingly and headed to Trident bookstore for a very satisfactory Eggs Benedict with avocado. Delicious. Then Roz succumbed to my pleading eyes and took me on one of the traditional swan boats, powered by someone pedalling at the back, around the duck pond in Boston's very pretty public gardens. It was delightful. And helped to soothe the angst that only a quick frappucino lay between us and Logan Airport and the trip back home to Washington.