Day 4: The Esplanade Saga
I'm Adam Sell and I have two months left before I leave Boston. My challenge? Do something in the city every day. Have ideas for my adventure? Send me an email.
In hindsight, a tent might have been the best idea.
Going to the Esplanade for the Fourth of July celebration was high on my list of "things to do someday." I'd seen the television coverage in the past, and with this project occupying my summer, I thought, why not?
We fought with obnoxious latecomers who claimed the three-foot strip of grass in front of us as their own turf, we did our best to ignore the passing showers that dripped on us, and we swam through the seas of humanity to escape after the POPS portion of the concert to catch the fireworks someplace else.
Overall, it was a fun experience, but I doubt I'll be repeating it in the near future.
7:45 a.m. worked as an arrival time — we got in about half an hour after the gates opened at 9, and we staked out a primo spot by the left sidewalk. Only half an hour later did we realize that this "not having chairs" thing was going to pose a serious problem. And an hour after that, when the rain began to fall, we began to envy those who had brought full tents or canopies as shelter.
Most of all, though, we made do. Hoodies sufficed as pillows, iPods as white noise, and crossword puzzles as entertainment. After all, we had 11 hours to kill between laying out the blankets and hearing the musicians warm up.
Our most dramatic moment came when a group arrived between 4 and 4:30 and laid claim to the three-foot strip of land separating us from the group in front of us. That strip was a walkway for most other folks, but these latecomers (7 hours after we sat down!) decided to just set up camp. We protested their little flag-raising, but couldn't evict them. In response, we chose to harass the group at every opportunity. Couldn't run them off, though. Shame.
After applying bug spray (apparently contraband, they just never took it from us on the way in), we settled in for the concert and sang along with whatever we knew. Once the orchestra cleared the way for Rascal Flats, we bolted. The Esplanade is a terrible vantage point for the fireworks, and we weren't all that interested in the country portion of the evening anyway. We found a spot by the Mass. Ave. bridge and finished our night humming along with Nessun Dorma.
Still classy. That's right.
Contributors
Nicole Cammorata is a Mass. native who is keen on antique hunting, musical theater, and the great outdoors.
Milva DiDomizio is a New England native who's fond of cooking, singing, and Boston's arts and culture scene.
Emily Sweeney is a Boston native who goes out all over, from Irish pubs in Southie to the roller rink in Dorchester.
