4th October. "Boston's Best Slept Secret".

After a four hour hike through the varying Downtown landscape of the financial, the high couture, and select seafood bars, the evidence began to mount...
The idea that accomodation existed in Boston for under $400 U.S. a night was begining to look like a complete fantasy. As darkness fell I was getting a little frayed, and in the balmy night air was all for lying down on the nearest park bench and taking our chances with any would-be muggers. It was either that or taking the next bus back to Montreal.

Boston seems to have more hotels with uniformed doormen per square mile than most, and even these were full. Another doorman did his duty as Isabelle entered another splendid hotel. I hung around outside. Half an hour later she emerged triumphant, clutching a reservation in what had proved, up until then, highly elusive: a guest house.

After giving thanks for our final arrival at the Beacon Street Guest House, the reason for its low profile became clearer. It's "sign", just under the doorbell, measured roughly four inches by three, and was only readable,in my case especially, from a distance of about a twelve inches. This is to comply with some local historic preservation order of No Signs.

The souveneir mugs on sale at reception proclaim "Boston's Best Slept Secret". Exactement!