Salem, MA
The hotel does not have the world’s fastest breakfast service, and forgetting to buy the local newspaper before entering the restaurant is not a very bright idea. But you ought not expect very many of those after a toubled and short night’s sleep. Yes, sports fans, Mr. Jetlag is back in business, and aside from very few very short catnaps I was wide awake at 3:30 am. The newspaper, by the way, is huge, in the NYT-weight class, and provides substantial reading. And a pound of adverts. If not even more.
The neverlost-equipped rental car took us to Salem, the town famous for its 1692 witch hysteria. Visited the Witch Museum, which had a shortish (but basically interesting) presentation about the trials, and fell for yet another t-shirt in the museum store. Missed the other two major attractions: House of Seven Gables and Witches Dungeon, but had probably got enough of the misguided puritanism already.
It was still wintry, and taking a long walk back to the car seemed like a good idea. Snapped a few pictures along the way, two of which enclosed in the entry. First one is of one scary Solomon Kane-clone, the other of a well-icicled flowerpot.
Had the world’s hottest tea in one of the many cafeterias downtown. Salem seemed to be a nice little New England town, but it was probably far sleepier on an early sunday morning than usually.
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