Durgin Park
May. 1st, 2008 07:12 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jayfurrTuesday evening I walked from my hotel in the Back Bay section of Boston over to the Quincy Market/Faneuil Hall area. It was drizzling and very very VERY windy; I can't tell you how many ruined, abandoned umbrellas I spotted lying around on sidewalks or dumped next to garbage cans. When I got to my destination, the Durgin Park restaurant at Quincy Market, it was CLOSED.
CLOSED I tell you.
Given that it was founded in 1827 and has been there through thick and thin, I didn't think they'd close for anything short of an ice age. But posted on their door was a sign informing one and all that they'd had to close due to a gas leak.
No kidding; I went around to the other side of the building and there was a huge hole in the sidewalk, a smell of rotten eggs like you wouldn't believe, and about a dozen police, fire, and utility vehicles all getting in one another's way as the workers around the hole tried to patch the leak.
I wound up walking from Quincy Market over to the North End and Little Italy and walked morosely around, pondering whether I felt like going in to one of the dozens of nice Italian restaurants in that part of town, but in the end, slightly damp and on my own with no one to eat with, I sighed, caught the subway at City Hall, and wound up getting soup and a sandwich at the Au Bon Pain in the Prudential Center, near my hotel. So much for my venture out into Boston culinary life.
CLOSED I tell you.
Given that it was founded in 1827 and has been there through thick and thin, I didn't think they'd close for anything short of an ice age. But posted on their door was a sign informing one and all that they'd had to close due to a gas leak.
No kidding; I went around to the other side of the building and there was a huge hole in the sidewalk, a smell of rotten eggs like you wouldn't believe, and about a dozen police, fire, and utility vehicles all getting in one another's way as the workers around the hole tried to patch the leak.
I wound up walking from Quincy Market over to the North End and Little Italy and walked morosely around, pondering whether I felt like going in to one of the dozens of nice Italian restaurants in that part of town, but in the end, slightly damp and on my own with no one to eat with, I sighed, caught the subway at City Hall, and wound up getting soup and a sandwich at the Au Bon Pain in the Prudential Center, near my hotel. So much for my venture out into Boston culinary life.
