Boston & Salem

I’m writing this 2 years too late.

In 2022, I took myself on a trip. This wasn’t just any trip; it was a really important one. It was a solo trip to Boston Massachusetts, incorporating day trips to Salem, the Halloween capital of the world. A secular pilgrimage of sorts. This was an amalgamation of all the self-knowledge I had amassed in my life until then; I knew exactly I wanted to see, experience, taste, feel - and all of this has been carefully considered and incorporated.

The trip itself was incredible, but when I returned, it never crossed my mind to write anything about it. Perplexing, really. I’ve given this a lot of thought, and I think my problem was feeling discouraged by having nowhere to post it. In February 2020, I closed down my scare attraction/horror review website, HorrorBox. It was a solemn acceptance of just how time-poor I had become. Post closure, I didn’t continue writing in any real or significant way, which was stupid of me. I didn't need to carve out an online space to house my words. Instead, the simple act of documenting the things that matter most to me, in the medium that matters most to me, should have been enough.

Funnily enough, if you're reading this now, it means I've found a new online home. But at the time of writing this, I’m writing it just for me, which feels like a long overdue act of self-love. So here we go - let’s scrape together those [now] rose-tinted memories and bash out a Boston blog.

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When I was booking my trip, a lot of people asked me why I chose accommodation in Boston as opposed to Salem. It was a hard one to answer at the time, because my reasoning was based entirely on an assumption that Boston would be more suitable for a solo traveller. Actually scrap that - it would be more suitable for me as a solo traveller. One of the great benefits of self-knowledge is knowing how to push yourself out of your comfort zone without pushing too far. Salem appeared to me - albeit someone who had never visited - as a smaller location lacking in the big city conveniences that compliment my solo travelling habits. For example, dining alone in a restaurant doesn’t bother me, but when I’m feeling jetlagged and anxious, I want multiple delicious to-go options (all within a few minutes’ walk of my hotel), which I can messily devour in the cosy solitude of my room, lit by the glow of the TV. On reflection, I definitely made the right decision. Boston was an ideal base for the trip.

Things didn’t get off to the best start; a gnarly 6 hour delay ate away at both my spirits and the first day of the holiday. Public transport from the airport to the Seaport district, where I was staying, looked very straightforward; I promised myself I’d use it rather than splashing cash on a rideshare straightaway. However, when a 3pm arrival became a 9pm arrival, my exhausted body and mind had other ideas. After being dropped at my hotel and receiving no less than seven welcomes at the front desk (I counted), I flopped onto the bed and descended into a jetlagged haze that cruelly resembled sleep, but with none of the benefits. Adrenaline jabbed away at my fractured circadian rhythm as I tossed and turned, I sensing the onset of a sore throat. Nevertheless, I was very happy. My room was cute as fuck, with fully customisable ambient lighting (I immediately chose purple) which made me feel cocooned. It was outrageously small, but that added to the vibe.

I don’t remember what activities I did on what days, but I vividly remember the morning of day one. I’d set it aside for getting my bearings; I wanted to familiarise myself with the subway system and explore my immediate surroundings. Breakfast that first morning was a knockout. I went to an Italian deli which was a short walk from my hotel, and ordered what turned out to be the greatest breakfast sandwich I’ve ever eaten. The self-serve coffee was hot, delicious, and irresistibly strong. I sat listening to the conversations of local construction workers who’d come in on a morning break, becoming more obsessed with the Bostonian accent with every word uttered.

Afterwards I wandered over to Fan Pier Park, the smell of the harbour stirring a sense of nostalgia from bygone seaside holidays. The skyline rising from the water’s edge looked unequvioocally cool. I sat gazing at it while I munched my snacks from Trader Joe’s, contemplating my excellent decision-making skills in relation to choosing this trip.

On my first visit to Salem, I could barely contain my excitement. I took the subway to North Station where I promptly ordered seasonal treats from Dunkin and snaffled them while waiting for my train. I noticed a number of people arriving on the platform in Halloween/witchy/gothic garb - predictably (and much to my delight), we all boarded the train to Salem (the Commuter Rail, which took about 25 minutes). Upon arrival, the sun was shining and the streets were relatively quiet. I assumed this was the calm before the storm; an assumption that turned out to be largely correct. I made my way to the Bewitched statue and along Essex street to begin my exploration of the town.

I visited Salem a total of three times during my trip, and I don’t remember precisely which activities I did on which days, so I’ll describe each activity in no particular order:

The Satanic Temple HQ

I had just ordered my 100th maple bourbon iced latte from an adorable coffee shop called Brew Box on Essex, and I was feeling rather fragile. The town had started to fill up with fellow Halloween enthusiasts, and I was seriously tired.

As I walked down Howard Street on my way to The Satanic Temple HQ, the hustle and bustle of the crowds began to quieten, and I was able to gather my thoughts. By the time I reached the cemetery, I promptly burst into tears. I was overwhelmed by the sight of the gorgeous little houses, each adorned with spooky fall decorations. It was everything I was hoping for. I reflected on how proud of myself I was for making the trip happen, and simultaneously how self-indulgent it was to even be there at all. It popped into my head that self-indulgence is a hallmark of LaVeyan Satanism, and even though The Satanic Temple (TST) stands alone from the LaVeyan school of thought, I couldn’t help but make the connection.

After about a 20 minute walk, I arrived at The Satanic Temple HQ. It’s a small building housing art pieces and exhibits pertaining to witch-hunts, Satanism, and moral panics. I mostly had the place to myself, so I took my time enjoying the beautiful interior design, and trying to snap the perfect selfie with the remarkable Baphomet Monument. The Satanic Panic room was my favourite, and of course I hit the gift shop pretty hard.

Count Orlok’s Nightmare Gallery

I LOVED this place. It’s a monster museum honouring the greatest actors, characters, FX artists, and directors in the history of horror cinema. Life-sized figures lurk in every corner and the themed sets are gorgeously detailed. As a genre film fan, it was an amazing experience. I was glad to have booked ahead as there seemed to be a constant queue of walk-ins. The gift shop was also a delight, with loads of unique horror merch and some real bargains to be had.

Witch Mansion

The Witch Mansion claims to be Salem's scariest haunted attraction, but I didn’t require any convincing as this was one of the first things on my itinerary. It’s a charming walkthrough haunt filled with creepy characters (all animatronic) and special FX. I absolutely loved it. I already knew not to expect scareactors (perhaps I’d have been disappointed had I not known) so I appreciated it for what it was. I remember having butterflies in my stomach as I lifted the curtain to enter, as this was my very first USA haunted house, and therefore an important moment for me despite how small it was.

Halloween Museum of Salem

An absolute must for any Halloween fan in Salem (and surely everyone in Salem is a Halloween fan!)

This place is filled with adorable exhibits celebrating the history of Halloween, as well as nostalgic memorabilia and spooky dioramas. I loved the whimsical vibe and colourful aesthetic; it exuded that special Halloween magic that makes my heart happy.

Lighthouse and foliage cruise (Mahi Cruises)

I discovered Mahi Cruises on the Haunted Happenings online listings (Haunted Happenings being the umbrella event name for all offerings in Salem during the spooky season). The company was running two cruise options during Haunted Happenings: the lighthouse and foliage cruise, and the haunted happenings harbour cruise. I chose the former as it seemingly offered more opportunities for sightseeing.

The boat, named the Hannah Glover, was an impressive a double decker with an open air top deck and heated main cabin. Much to my delight, there was a bar on our top deck, serving local craft beers, cocktails and spiked hot apple cider (though of course, to us in the UK, alcoholic cider is just called cider). There was also food available, including New England’s favourite: clam chowder (sorry, chowda). The boat also had a resident dog.

The cruise itself was perfect. We explored 14-miles of beautiful coastlines and islands, including the shorelines of Salem, Beverly, Marblehead, Manchester-by-the-Sea and the Misery Islands. The scenery was stunning, and although the foliage was unseasonably late that year, there was still a good amount of colour. Everyone was super friendly, we chatted away while drinking our hot cider and peacefully taking in the views. It was everything I wanted it to be. And yes, I cried then too – couldn’t even blame the jet lag at that point.

Shopping, shopping, and more shopping

Ah yes, that feeling when you’ve saved up for months so you can really splurge, then Liz Truss’ mini budget sends the pound tumbling as soon as you’re on American soil. My money didn’t go particularly far, but I didn’t let that hold me back. After a bit of light reconnaissance, I already knew which shops I wanted to hit. Blackcraft and Die With Your Boots On left my bank account sufficiently drained, and the smaller touristy gift shops yielded some super cute trinkets and affordable souvenirs. The candles at Witch City Wicks were some of best things I bought on the whole trip, and my favourite shop overall was Black Veil Shoppe of Drear & Wonder. My jaw hit the floor when I saw the décor in there; it was like stepping into an autumnal gothic fairytale.

The Witch House

Salem 101: get a photo in front of The Witch House. It’s one of Salem’s most recognisable historic structures, and one of the few remaining properties with direct ties to the witch trials. I didn’t visit the museum inside, but many were visiting the day I went. I know this because the front door seemingly serves as the exit, so anyone who poses for a photo in front of the house must awkwardly contend with random people periodically appearing in shot. There was a small queue for photos when I arrived mid-morning; this may just be an October thing. Being a solo visitor, I had to put my faith in complete strangers to take a decent photo for me. This didn’t happen on my first attempt, but rather than hold up the line, I scuttled off for a short walk and returned later for another try, which fortunately came out great. Thank you to the person who took it!

Frankenstein's Castle at Salem Wax Museum

In October, the street where Salem Wax Museum is located transforms into ‘The Haunted Neighbourhood’, with up to seven attractions on offer depending on which day you visit. I only managed one: Frankenstein's Castle. Housed in the wax museum’s ‘dungeon’, this haunt featured both live scareactors and animatronics, so I was eager to experience it. It was fine. Theming was pretty scant and I don’t recall getting many good scares, but it’s a fond memory nonetheless.

Gallows Hill

Gallows Hill Museum & Theatre is a multi-attraction space that offers a variety of experiences. I went for what they call their ‘main show’, which is an immersive theatrical experience centred around the Salem Witch Trials. Somewhat adorably, the website describes the main show as having “Disney style special effects”. I do recall the effects being quite good, but that’s not my biggest takeaway from this. I just loved the vibe of it. A tiny little theatre with bench-style seating and atmospheric lighting, and that cosy tingly feeling of settling in for a chilling ghost story.

Witch Trials Memorial

A simple green space with trees and a stone wall, I found the memorial to be a quiet, contemplative environment. Inscribed in the stone at the entrance to the memorial are the victims’ protests of innocence, and benches around the perimeter bear their names and the execution dates. A walking tour was passing through here so I lingered nearby to hear some of the information, but was soon distracted and lost in my own thoughts. As I approached the benches, I saw that they had small items laid on them – mostly flowers, coins, notes and candles. A poignant reminder of the past, and a chance to reflect on the part we can all play in fighting present-day injustice.

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The rest of my time in Boston was spent exploring while periodically stopping for lobster rolls. It was wonderful. Beacon Hill was a highlight, and as far as autumnal vibes go, it was off the charts. I loved the cobblestoned, gas-lamp lined streets, with leaves dancing in the wind and bright orange pumpkins piled on stoops. From there I wandered down to Boston Common and took photos of the trees like every other tourist. I explored The North End, Boston’s Little Italy, where I devoured delicious cannoli. I bought tat in Quincy Market and wandered for hours until I stumbled on the Greenway Carousel, the only carousel of its kind, featuring beautiful hand-carved animals. I wandered around Boston Public Library. I cosied up in my bed with bags of fast food and watched appallingly bad TV. I drank a lot of coffee. I became insufferably attached to the area, absorbing every aspect of it into my personality, and vowed to return.

By the end of the trip, I had the usual mix of emotions- sad to be leaving, excited to get home, anxious about fitting all my new purchases inside my second suitcase. I also had one more treat to look forward to. My travel agent had managed to bag me a premium economy seat at a bargain price. I’d never travelling in anything other than economy at the time, so I was beyond thrilled. The seat was super comfortable - I quickly cosied up and began excitedly pouring over the menu and amenity kit. After dinner, I commenced my bedtime routine, giddy over the lingering possibility that I might actually get some sleep on the plane (a first for me). After exasperatedly arranging and rearranging my blanket & pillow, I was thrilled to discover that Good Will Hunting was available on to watch on the in-flight entertainment system. The comforting hues and Bostonian accents were the perfect way to say goodbye to Massachusetts, and I slowly drifted into waves of sleep, emotion, and nausea from the gentle but persistent turbulence.

After returning home, I reflected on the trip and how proud I was for creating a meaningful experience for myself. Self-knowledge, and taking the time to cultivate it, had enabled me to shape that experience in a way that maximised joy. I'd always viewed self-knowledge as a tool of empowerment, but I think that amounts to taking myself a little too seriously. After all, analysing oneself in perpetuity is a kind of narcissism. There’s strength to having an unknowable self, to thinking about ourselves less. But there's a valuable asset that I sometimes conflate with self-knowledge, and that's self-love, and while I’ll proudly declare to have mostly conquered the former, I shy away from even contemplating the latter. I think this trip has proven to myself that I’m further along in that journey than I thought ❤︎