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Just a two-mile jaunt we could see on the map. We both agreed, why hire a cab for a 2 mile jaunt? The luggage has wheels, we always  wear our backpacks hiking and we would see a bit of Boston on our way to the cruise ship.
9:00 AM We leave the hotel under overcast skies. Take this from a seasoned traveler, if your umbrella is in working order and convenient it will not rain. With umbrellas strapped cleverly to the luggage we depart looking crisp and adventuresome.

9:05 AM It begins to rain. Someone in the party refers to it as a drizzle. Umbrellas lifted high we continue. One of us is less happy.

9:08 AM Who packed this luggage?

9:10 AM It is 'drizzling' in earnest now. Heavy drizzle pounds on the umbrella and my eye glasses fog. The once-charming cobblestone pathway is getting really irritating. Black-top may not be charming but it does not jar you teeth and threaten your ankles as you drag wheeled luggage across it.
9: 12 AM Which enemy packed this bag? Wheeled bag? Nonsense. There is a dead pig at the end of this handle.

9:15 AM Beginning to understand why the pioneers threw furniture off the wagons and considering what can I toss.

       "Leave me for dead Jed."        "Aww maw I told yee not not to pack the pea-annie."        "I couldn't help mesself, Jed, I hoped yee'd a started a band out yonder."        "Awww Maw, how many times I got to tell yee, ah am a bass player?"

9:17 AM What drug was I on when I packed extra thick cotton socks?

9:20 AM The pounding drizzle has slowed to an actual drizzle so with umbrellas stored and glasses dried we survey our environs. The tea party museum is behind us now and we can no longer hear the re-enactors hawking their "Hear ye hear yee's" declaring war on Britain. The darling children's museum is behind us as well. So are the cobblestones now replaced with broken and heaving sidewalks. But the dead pig remains and has apparently had a  growth spurt.

 I miss the cobblestones and picture myself on the journey across the Antarctic ice with Shakelton hauling lifeboats over mammoth  ice jams. Whose idea was it to bring extra clothes at all? Shakelton wore the same clothes for two years on his cruise.

9:25 AM We drag on as does the increasingly long-short 2 mile jaunt. We no longer look like snappy tourists. We look as if we are adrift and homeless. Wet hair sticks to my face from sweat and humidity. Passersby avoid eye contact and cling to their parcels just a little tighter as we haul past.

9:30 AM I think we are getting close to the pier. This is not the Boston of the glossy brochures. Sagging chain link fencing surrounds empty lots.  Corners harbor litter. Shoes, books and dapper cruise wear are strewn about. Ah yes, we are getting close and others have had the same idea as the pioneers and me.

9:35 AM Dead blackbird on the sidewalk. I avert my glance but not before I notice she  still clings to her tiny wheeled luggage and backpack. No more singing in the dead of night for her. Sleep well, my dear, sleep well and in your next life take the cab.

9:40 AM We are grateful for the cabbie who slowed down and lowered his window. Others had stopped along the way but we refused their offer of a ride. This one informs us with his distinct Boston twang that we are veering off in the wrong direction. How he recognized us as cruise passengers is a mystery as I look like a well dressed vagrant. Perhaps it was the dapper cruise wear I had just picked up and tucked under my arm. He will forever be a hero. We veer quickly in the other direction and behold: the line of people already waiting to board the ship. The sun peeks through the clouds.

9:45 AM We straighten our posture and step lively, wiping the sweat of our brow onto our once-white shorts. One must arrive looking crisp for a cruise no matter what. We park our pigs next to the others and board. Just a 2 mile jaunt, and somehow nothing got tossed from the wagon after all.

Good Ideas once brought to fruition can sour quickly.