Martha and Moby, Boston and Bud – a marvellous meander around Massachusetts

I AM writing this feeling slightly fuzzy headed and a bit ‘other worldly’. Not from any kind of alcohol excess, before you give me a wry, knowing smile, no, I am jet-lagged to use the accepted parlance.

I’ve just travelled home from a wonderful holiday that involved a few nights in Boston then Cape Cod, that beautiful jut of land famous for clapboard cottages, Moby Dick and Martha’s Vineyard – playground of Jaws and according to local news and t-shirt sellers on the island, the Obama family.

I was chuffed that my parents could come too and it’s been a truly special holiday with sights and experiences that will stay with me after my sleep pattern returns to normal and the pile of washing and ironing is waded through.

Boston was a revelation. New York has always felt like the epicentre of buzz and vibrancy for me, but Boston felt like it had similar confidence and cool but with a slightly more chilled out vibe.

I said to my friend Sue who kindly did a spot of guinea-pig sitting, that it sort of reminded me of Cardiff – a pretty harbour area, creative feel, green parks and great places to eat. I saw just one heated exchange between two drivers that instantly made me feel like I was in a film.

I scanned the sidewalks for Matt Damon, he being a Boston native. Thankfully the argument cooled but alas no movie star appeared.

Besides this, overwhelmingly it was incredibly friendly. Cape Cod too and here was all pretty clapboard cottages, lighthouses, beaches and whale watching, oh those whales. I caught my breath and could’ve cried seeing the first one pop up.

A massive, American breakfast size thank you must go to Claire in Penarth’s Tailor Made Travel. I popped in there recently with a vague plan that I would like to explore this area of the USA and Claire set to work on itineries and nothing was too much trouble as I swopped and changed bits and worried about occasional details, as I do.

Molly at Blu hairdressers tinted and tousled my tresses the evening before I flew so I felt holiday ready when we parked up at Cardiff airport, yes indeed, Cardiff via Dublin for US customs pre-clearance then straight through Logan airport – a fab Claire suggestion.

Over a Budweiser on the last night, I asked my dad what his favourite part of the holiday had been and he replied without a heartbeat, for him it was every time his grandchildren had laughed and smiled. Being with them, sharing these experiences with them, this was the most important thing to him and I know my ,um would concur.

They didn’t go to the USA until middle-age, my children have been fortunate to travel widely and neither of them is yet aged in double figures, but seeing the two generations laughing and sharing, I have no doubt, that young and old have built memories to last and last.