First of all, it rained most of the trip. Including during the Saturday afternoon game at Fenway, which we had awesome seats for. But around the fifth inning when I was soaked to the bone and the score was 12-2 (not really a nail biter, no matter which team you're rooting for), we decided to call it quits.
Most disappointing, however, was the hotel.
We decided to switch it up this time. Normally we go for the modern luxury of the Westin Copley. This time I decided I wanted a more historical, New England feel. So we booked the Omni Parker House, the oldest running hotel in the country. And the Kennedys used to stay there!
A week before the trip, Hubs laughingly informs me the hotel is haunted, sending me a link. I think he thought this would upset me, because I'm a total weenie when it comes to horror movies and the idea of things lurking around in the dark.
To his surprise, I was psyched. Perfect! I thought. This will be great research for my WIP--the main character grew up in a family of ghost hunters. What better way to come up with material than to investigate the supernatural, first-hand?
Among factoids about the hotel were these promising nuggets:
- Elevators are always called to the third floor (the floor Charles Dickens--CHARLES DICKENS OMG OMG!--occupied) without a button being pushed or a guest waiting for the elevator.
- In a room on the 10th floor, guests have reported the sound of a rocking chair that kept them up all night. There are no rocking chairs in the hotel.
- Bellman have reported bright "orbs" of light floating down the corridor on the 10th floor then disappearing
Alas--whether it's because we were put on the plebeian 5th floor, away from all the supernatural action, or the ghosts were simply feeling not up to snuff that evening, the only unlexplained mysteries we were faced with were:
- How a 4-star hotel could have such tiny, dingy rooms.
- How a hotel in BOSTON could not include NESN in their TV channel listings (that is the Boston Red Sox channel, for all of you non-New England folk. We were trying to catch Friday's night game on TV after we got back from a hearty, sleep-inducing pasta dinner in the North End)
- And finally, if the lobby manager's name was actually Seamus for real, or if that was just another one of the hotel's tall tales they propagate to make visitors feel like they are getting the full Boston experience. And if he was really that jolly of an Irishman. Or even actually Irish.
So sorry, no ghostly insights to report. Although I did squeeze a few pages in, as you'll see in my updated word count on the sidebar.
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