Boston. You think you’re going for the history — the cobblestones, the colonies, the powdered wig energy — but what really sticks with you?
The people.
I don’t say this lightly, but Bostonians might be the nicest Americans you’ll ever meet. Maybe it’s that salt-in-the-air attitude, maybe it’s all the walking they do, or maybe it’s because — just like Aussies — they love a good laugh, a strong pint, and calling BS when they see it.
They’re upfront, warm, and more than willing to chat your ear off about the Red Sox, where to find the best cannoli, or which Irish pub has the best pour of Guinness (spoiler: I tried them all).
Let’s talk pubs — Boston’s Irish pub game is elite. You’ll wander into places that feel like they’ve been lifted straight out of Dublin, complete with live fiddles, thick accents, and bartenders who somehow remember everyone’s name and drink order. My favorite? The Black Rose. Right near Faneuil Hall, this place serves clam chowder that could raise the dead and a lobster roll that should have its own zip code. Order both. Trust me.
On the sports front — I lucked out. The Celtics were deep in the playoffs, and Boston does not mess around with basketball. I ended up in a local sports bar where the entire room stood every time someone hit a three-pointer. Picture a packed pub, green jerseys everywhere, beers flying, and a sense of community so strong it gave me goosebumps. Didn’t matter that I didn’t know the players and wasn't wearing green — they were just stoked I was there cheering with them.
It’s that kind of city.
Rough around the edges, but full of heart. Where strangers become mates over seafood and sports, and where you leave with a full belly and a bunch of recommendations for your next beer / meal / visit.
If you like Aussies, you’ll love Bostonians. Same dry humour. Same “don’t take yourself too seriously” vibe. Same love of a proper pub night.
Cheers, Boston — you’ve got me hooked.
