Travel: Don’t Duck out of this trip in brilliant Boston

BOSTON was the very first US city my wife and I visited.

It was 1996, we were on honeymoon and we’d left our wedding reception at 4am to catch a flight to Logan International via Amsterdam.

So you can imagine our memories of arriving in Massachusetts — and the few days we spent in Boston — are a bit hazy.

Not this time, though.

Almost 21 years later, and accompanied by our 15-year-old son, Euan, we touched down after flying at a very civilised hour via Dublin — seriously, if you have the chance to go through US Customs there, take it as you’ll save yourself hours of hassle Stateside.

Something else was different, too.

Two decades ago, we landed during some of the worst, wettest weather New England had seen for years and it continued to rain for the first couple of days.

This time, the weather was wonderful, so much so that we decided against the usual taxi or bus into town and instead headed for the water-taxi dock.

Logan is located across the harbour from downtown Boston and you can call up a boat to take you across.

It takes about 10 minutes and is brilliant, James Bond-y fun, especially in Boston as the alternative is a long road tunnel to the city.

This was another change. Boston was in the midst of the “Big Dig” when we were there last, demolishing the motorway that wound through downtown and burying it underground below a series of urban parks.

What hadn’t changed, however, was our hotel, as we’d opted to stay at the Parker House again, the oldest continuously-operating hotel in America.

It might be trading on past glories somewhat, but you can’t beat its location, slap bang in the heart of downtown “Beantown” and with the Freedom Trail running past its door.

The trail is a two-and-a-half-mile walk that takes you through the heart of historic Boston, visiting 16 locations that were key to the American Revolution.

And with Trump in the White House, kicking us out is a decision some Americans may now be regretting.

You’re guided by a red-brick line in the pavement past places such as the house of Paul Revere, the patriot who made his famous “Midnight Ride” to warn the colonial militia “The British are coming!”

It takes you to the Bunker Hill Monument which marks the location of the first battle of the War of Independence that, though technically a British victory, showed the colonialists could hold their own.

Close by is the USS Constitution, known as “Old Ironsides” which defeated a British frigate during the War of 1812, and its museum which gives a fascinating glimpse into life afloat in those days.

I tried to get into a hammock and was swiftly deposited on my face.

A more-modern warship, the destroyer USS Cassin Young which fought in the Second World War and Korea, is moored alongside and you can clamber about her, too.

I’d normally recommend a bus tour as a good way to get to grips with a city, but Boston offers a better alternative — the Boston Duck Tour.

You clamber aboard a replica Second World War amphibious truck and as well as seeing all the landmarks such as Boston Common and the excellent Museum of Science, you’ll splash down a ramp into the Charles River for a chug about with any kids on board offered the chance to drive the Duck.

No, I wasn’t allowed, which was probably for the best or I’d have been re-enacting the D-Day landings.

Speaking of the Charles, across the river is where you’ll find Cambridge, once a separate city and now home to the fabled seats of learning Harvard and MIT (the Massachusetts Institute of Technology).

My dad was offered a summer semester teaching at MIT in the early 80s, but didn’t realise it was a serious proposal so it never happened. I still haven’t forgiven him.

So we made up for lost time by taking the subway to Cambridge to spend the day mooching around Harvard.

The historic campus is gorgeous, incredibly impressive and you can see why so many movies have been set there.

We took a pic of our son outside the library touching the foot of founder John Harvard’s statue as undergraduates do for luck, and I was only half-joking when I said he’d be back here in three years’ time . . .

Best part of the visit was lunch at Mr Bartley’s hamburger joint, which offers sensational burgers such as the Trump Tower (“It’s yuuge, believe me”) though I had a Casey Affleck chilli burger, named after one of Boston’s favourite sons.

While we’re talking about food, you can’t go wrong in Boston’s North End. The city’s Italian neighbourhood, I’m still craving another pizza from Regina’s while the queues for cannoli from Mike’s Pastry shop are just as long.

The small, family-run restaurants along and just off Hanover Street are amazing, and as you’d expect from a port city, the seafood is sensational.

If you’re grabbing something “to go” then Quincy Market is your best bet as it’s home to a couple of dozen outlets serving every type of cuisine you can think of.

One even specialises in mac’n’cheese and I can recommend it, though I went for traditional, foregoing the option of having chunks of Maine lobster mixed in with my cheesy pasta.

Yes, you’re right, New Englanders are an odd bunch.

But I can’t fault their dedication to Union Square Donuts in Boston Public Market.

The orange creamsicle donut? One of the most-amazing things I’ve ever eaten.

One place you can’t miss is Fenway Park, home to the Boston Red Sox and the oldest baseball ground in America.

Unlike some of the modern enormo-domes, it’s the second-smallest ballpark in the country, but it’s a beaut.

Take a guided tour and learn all about “America’s pastime”, and see the lone red seat in the right-field bleachers that marks the longest home run ever hit at Fenway, Ted Williams’s 502-foot dinger from 1946.

Euan and I loved it, and I still regret not buying tickets for that night’s game (the cheapest left were 70 bucks a pop). If we ever go back to Beantown, we’re going to Fenway to sit on the famous “Green Monster” seats.

But if we’re sticking to our schedule, that won’t be until 2038, far too long to wait for a ballgame and another slice from Regina’s.