Tuesday, January 02, 2018

Welcome to the icebox... a nation shivers...

I’ve seen in the New Year in Boston, home of the American Revolution, where the temperature has been stuck below -10 degrees Centigrade since we arrived. Add, or more accurately subtract, the wind chill, and it has usually felt like -20 or worse. Going out requires multiple layers, face masks, hats, gloves etc etc., which does lead you to ask the question, “is my journey really necessary?”. And the answer is, often, “no”.

Apparently, Boston hasn’t experienced such a spell of weather since 1872, which isn’t much of a consolation, it must be said.

Today, however, it has been time to head north, to New Hampshire’s Seacoast Region, more specifically, Portsmouth, home of a Naval Shipyard (they handle nuclear submarines, apparently). We took the Amtrak train from Boston’s North Station, the Downeaster, which runs between Boston and Brunswick, Maine, via Portland.

The train is slow but comfortable, with heating and decent wi-fi, which allowed me to catch up on events at home.

Portsmouth, at first sight, appears to be one of those quintessential small New England towns, very pretty and ordered, but full of interesting shops, bars and restaurants, and so the prospect of the temperature getting close to freezing tomorrow is excellent news.

As for our hotel, the Hotel Portsmouth is utterly charming. And whilst I expect to run into Angela Lansbury in the lobby, visiting an old friend before solving a murder, I’ll at least have the benefit of a good night’s sleep first...

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