Boy, I wish I still lived here...

I'm in the Boston area for a conference on women's health this week. The conference is at the Sheraton, right at the foot of the Prudential center, but today I took the train in all the way to South Station, then hoofed it up through Downtown Crossing, up past Beacon Hill where I used to work, through the common and the public garden of swan boat fame (and saw the first robin of spring, perched in a crabapple tree), and all the way down Newbury Street -- got to my conference just 5 minutes late.

On my lunch break I headed west out of the Back Bay into the Fenway -- I wanted to check out the Isabella Stewart Gardner museum, since I'd never managed to get there while I lived here. I almost didn't go back to the conference. Forget the art, I could have just spent the whole time sitting by the courtyard. But I went exploring, up to the second floor, around a corner, and found myself face-to-face with the 23 year-old Rembrandt. I was floored.

And they had a Bellini exhibit, with some really cool pen and ink drawings. And Mrs. Gardner apparently had a typical victorian fascination with the far east. Lots of lovely Japanese panels and screens to see.

At the end of the day, I was dragging my now pretty sore feet to the train station when someone passing by asked me for directions! Ha ha, I still look like I know my way around the place.