Bostons Pizza Deli – Bremerton, Washington

Mary is no longer available for RV traveling, but we remain good friends.
Because we have 4,000+ postings, I’ve invited her to continue posting entries on this blog.

I’m currently in my 21st year of full-time RVing and my lifestyle is changing, For more info click Here

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The motorhome is parked at Thousand Trails Mount Vernon RV Resort in Bow, Washington. I’ll depart here August 9th. I’ve been here a number of times in past years.

 

I’ll be hanging out in this general area until about the beginning of October, taking maximum advantage of my Thousand Trails membership and very agreeable weather.

 

(Note: I’m currently a little discombobulated right now. My normal mode is to blog what I experienced yesterday. Right now, I’m a number of blogs behind my experiences. I expect to be back in my normal mode in about a month.)

 

Today’s subject…

A couple of weeks ago I was in Bremerton, Washington. I had just finished a pleasant walk along the waterfront. It was about 1PM and I was feeling hungry when I stumbled upon Bostons Pizza & Deli. Hmmmmmmmmmm, I wondered, could it be?

 

I spent the first 40 years of my life not all that far from Boston. I remain a quasi Boston Red Sox fan since my now 18-year-old grandson Eric has had four showcases (show your stuff) with the Boston Red Sox. The Boston Red Sox play in the 104 year old Fenway Park. I went there a number of times as a youngster.

 

Anyways, back to my question. Ask any transplanted person from the east coast and they will all tell you the same thing… You cannot find a good pizza on the west coast!

 

I just had to go in to inquire. The clerk told me the owner (not currently there) grew up in Boston and was an avid fan and hence the decor of the place. Asking if he brought the Boston recipe  for the pizza with him, the clerk replied… There’s only one way to find out!

 

After giving it the taste test, Yup! It would have been better had my one slice come directly from the oven instead of sitting under a heat lamp. Sure beats the heck out of all the franchise pizza places on the west coast!

 

The below photos show the decor of the place…

 

As always you may left click upon an image to see an enlarged view and then click once again to see an even larger view…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You can see their website by clicking this link…

http://bostonsdeliandpizza.com/

 

You can read all about Fenway Park by clicking this link…

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fenway_Park

 

You can read all about Bremerton, Washington by clicking the below link…

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bremerton,_Washington

 

 

I hope you enjoyed the photos!

Yesterday was sunny and 75 degrees. Forecast for today is cloudy/sunny and 75 degrees.

Enjoying nice weather is another joy in the life of a full-time RVer!

The red dot on the below map shows my approximate location in the State of Washington. You may double left-click the map to make it larger…

Enjoying 65-75 degree temperatures with low humidity most of the year is a primary joy in the RVing lifestyle!

“Life is like riding a bicycle. To keep your balance you must keep moving”…Albert Einstein

My current travel rig is a 2006 Fleetwood 26′ Class A Motorhome and a towed 1986 Ford Bronco II, Eddie Bauer Model. This photo was taken in the desert at Slab City near Niland, California…

On October 27, 2012, I created a two-minute video titled America The Beautiful. The music America The Beautiful is by Christopher W. French. The photos, which I randomly selected, are from the states of Arizona, California, Colorado, Florida, Georgia, Louisiana, Massachusetts, Mississippi, Montana, New Mexico, North Carolina, Oklahoma, Oregon, Pennsylvania, Texas, Tennessee, Washington and West Virginia (not shown in that order)…are mine. Yup, That’s me standing in front of the Post Office in Luckenbach, Texas…Y’all!

Click this link to start the video. Make sure you have your speakers turned on and go to full screen asap.
http://youtu.be/FfZUzEB4rM8

If you would like to see my YouTube videos, click this link… http://www.youtube.com/user/JimJ1579/videos

There are more than 700 photo albums in my Picasa Web Albums File. To gain access, you simply have to click this link… https://picasaweb.google.com/jimjrver

If you have not checked out my Ramblin Man’s Photos Blog, you can do so by clicking this link…http://ramblinmanphotos.wordpress.com/

For more information about my books, click this link:
http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/panamaorbust

All original works copyrighted – Jim Jaillet 2016

SETTING SAIL, LAST NIGHT, PORT FETHIYUE

2014-Turkey-4-27, Greek Ghost Twn,Soguk Su Cove

 

Last night, I saved our visit to the ghost town to an album, above, if you would like to see all of my pictures in a slide show.

It was my plan to take a Sunday off, but here I am, enjoying all over again, setting the sails, and moving on to our disembarkation city of Fethiyue, pronounced fet-hah-yay.

The weather has taken a turn, with clouds and wind building up a storm.

Our captain decides it is time to set the sail, which they do once on every tour. The sea is roiling which gives a bit of rock and roll, called Poseidon’s horses-ancient vernacular.

Mehnehten climbs the mast and must somehow make sense of the multiple ropes that govern the sails.

The foresail is first to flare.

Wait a minute. If all three men are tackling the sails, who is steering the boat?

OWEN?

Of course, his pal, Usla put him up to it. And, truth be told, the ship is anchored.

The mainsail fills. And we are officially a sailboat. It’s beautiful and complicated to watch the process.

Then its time to take the sails down and pack them away in those built-in green canvas sacks.

Mehnehten walks the boom, tucking every bit of canvas away. Mainsail first.

Foresail last. A fascinating show for we land lubbers.

We have American pizza before dinner as a treat. Usla warns us, “Please, don’t tell any other OAT traveler that you had pizza on the gulet or they will all expect pizza.  A tour leader from another company ordered the cheese and special ingredients and then his cruise was aborted and the ingredients left behind.”  I’m sure they won’t be reading my blog but Usla knew we had bumped into people from another OAT tour group and had visited and conferred with them.

The wind was really blowing hard as we sailed on to Fethiyue where the ship takes on provisions for the next cruise and we disembark.

Fethiyue is a big port town that is at the moment very political with problems between the Kurdish and the Turkish moslems, who have a small difference in religion and language. Kurds number 20 million and hold much of the oil in Turkey and unrest here is increasing as the problem goes unresolved. The Kurds want a country of their own. For that reason, OAT does not bring tourist to visit the city. We get to view it from afar.

Our last night on the gulet, through the porthole window, the lights of Fethiyue burn brightly farewell.

 

 

RECORDING THE WORST.

My brother, Bill, was mediflighted to Mark Twain St. Josephs hospital for open heart surgery. Millions of them are done every year, nothing to it, right?  Omigod. Not unless it is you or someone you know who has the surgery.

He looked wretched and probably will not be happy that I posted his picture strapped to his new buddy, the machine that keeps him heavily monitored. I won’t see him again until March.

His daughter, Rena and granddaughter, Amber drove up from Southern California to be with him.

Practically the only thing not hooked to cords was his feet. Rena gave him a foot massage.

Time in the ICU is limited, so we went out for brunch after our visit. The women will return later in the day before heading back to Southern California.

And, my prankster son, Doug, brought him an All Meat Pizza, a bottle of booze, and an appointment with one of those women who hang out on Wilson St. wearing net stockings, commonly called a Ho. Bill was a bit out of it to think it was very funny, not to mention it hurts to laugh. the staff thought it was a gas. We wait until the worst moments and use humor to downplay our anxiety.  And, we are grateful to share what little time we can sneak in, even recording the worst.

 

LUNCH WITH JOAN.

I met my friend, Joan Higgins, of Mi-Wuk Village for lunch. In the past, we would go to Diamond Jim’s, but alas, the restaurant is closed, the economy has leveled so many things. Mi-Wuk is about 18 miles above Sonora and while the restaurant is closed, the scenery isn’t. I meandered along enjoying the passing pine forest, the smells of cedar, cones rolling about the roadside, passing  glimpses of yellow aspen and bursts of vermillion and burnt umber in a bush peeping out of the green. Mi-Wuk elevation is 4,000 feet.

People who move to mountain “retreats” like their privacy and getting away from city traffic. Joan and her husband retired among the quiet and beauty many years ago. Now, winter has driven her off the mountain until warm weather returns. But, home is still where the heart is and October has stretched out the good weather this year. During the rim fire, she had to leave the area because of the smoke.

Joan drove to Sonora and picked up a bake your own pizza and made a salad for lunch.  Fresh out of the oven and delicious. We laughed. We could just as well have met in Sonora,  there are a number of restaurants along the way besides Diamond Jim’s. But truth to tell, we both prefer to sit for an hour or two and yak. I hadn’t seen Joan in two years. The last time, we met at her winter escape in Arizona. Like me, she is widowed. Our husband’s were life-long friends.

Jim and I visit small places often as we travel and for years I ignored the history in my own back yard. The Mi-Wuks, who now prefer to spell their tribal name Me-Wuk settled this area hundreds of years ago. They built cedar shelters like the the one in this picture and also tee-pee shaped, moveable dwellings as well. Their habit was to grind acorns into flour to make a flat Indian bread, fish the rivers and hunt small game. They traveled over Sonora Pass and traded with the Eastern Sierra Paiute Indians, camping along the way. Archeologists have found their acorn grinding holes and the obsidian arrow heads the Paiute traded with them. In fact, Sonora was founded along a Me-Wuk Indian trail.

We said our goodbyes, and promised to meet again. We have a lot in common; both of us were raised strong Catholics, we both are one of seven siblings and we have many friends in common. The Me-Wuks now run the only Indian Casino within our three counties, Alpine, Toulomne, and Calaveras. I have Mi-Wuk Indian grinding holes on my property in Murphys. I’m glad the Me-Wuk have better resources than they used to, but neither of us care to frequent their casino, and we both treasure the Motherlode.

NORWALK, OH. TO GROSSE ILE, MI.

From Norwalk, we skirted Lake Erie for an hour or more and this beauty of a bridge carried us over the Erie channel between Toledo, OH. and Michigan.

About 35 miles later we were crossing the little bridge to Grosse Ile where live Jim’s longtime friends, Sue and Art Lambart.

The little harbor is filled with small boats. The island has a population of around 13,000 people, a partly volunteer fire department and a five man police department. It is very woodsy with a strong population of wild deer, raccoon, squirrels, possum and rabbits to remind people this island still belongs to the earliest residents.

The weather was beautiful and Jim spent three hours working on an electrical connection between the motor home and the Bronco, but could not fix the problem. I read my book on Lambart’s sunny driveway until Sue came home from work. We spent the afternoon visiting. We looked at pictures of the new grand kids since we last saw them in 2010, and Art’s parents who just celebrated their 70th wedding anniversary 6 months ago.

Jim and Art met in 1974. They both worked for the most remote power companies, Calvert Cliffs Nuclear Power Station in Maryland, and Pennsylvania Power and Light in Pennsylvania. Then Art went on to another undesirable power station in Mississippi where the schools were horrible.  Jim went to the West Coast. Art got out of the industry eventually and went to work for Ford Motor Company. He retired several years ago and recently decided to go back to work.

We went to dinner at a terrific Italian restaurant, Vitale’s where we shared a huge antipasto salad.

Art and I chose the eggplant parmesan with steamed vegetables. It was very good. Art is a great story-teller.

Jim and Sue both had pizza; vegetarian for Sue and  Jim’s was prosciutto and arugula, a very different but tasty combination.  We only had time for a short visit, but it is always nice to enjoy a glass of Pinch, and listen to Art’s stories.

Today we have to stop and get the electric connector fixed at a garage and an oil change at the same time.  Then, we head for Fraser, MI.

FROM BOSTON TO REVERE TO DARTMOUTH.

I flew to Boston, arrived about peak commute time which is why we decided to get a hotel instead of crawling our way to our destination. As it was, it took over an hour to drive the seven miles from the airport to our hotel.

That last-minute decision landed us in the “Motel From Hell” from a supposedly decent chain, Econo Lodge. We had a great laugh about how horrible it was, the front door to the lobby handle came off in Jim’s hand when he opened the door and the problems piled up after that. A friend of mine once got drunk and slept all night in a hotel in Vegas with a dead body under his mattress. That was in the 1960’s.  I was reminded of that incident because of the smell. Well, we survived. I was tired and slept well even so.

In the morning, we met Jim’s high school friends, Bill and Loretta Gallagher. Bill and Jim like to tour their old neighborhood and remind themselves of all their teenage exploits.

Jim is pointing at Bill and telling Loretta how he had the hot date with Perry Como’s niece so Bill was tailgating Jim and following him so they couldn’t get to the favorite necking spot without witnesses. So Jim tries to shake him with a quick  U turn in the middle of the road and Bill T boned his car.

And then there was the time they got stopped by the DMV guys, who always hung out on this one corner and stopped cars to check for their licenses and registration. Bill was driving his Henry J.  Out piled 13 kids before Bill could get his registration out of the glove box.

And then, another time, they were headed for a “rumble” with their chains and chocks when the clutch burned out in the old Henry J and probably saved their lives.  Oh, yeah. These guys lived the life of Fonzie.

We cruised the old neighborhood, with the guys marveling that the old trailer park where Jim lived was still there. Jim lived in a 12 foot trailer from age 10 to 14 with his parents and younger brother.

When he was in Jr. High, he crawled under the fence to Suffolk Downs, lied his age, and got a job grooming horses.

We visited the track but the place was empty. The track was being groomed and no horses in sight.

We stopped at the oldest Cemetery in the area. Bill pointed out where there was a building from the 1600’s on this site, an old house.  The City of Revere didn’t have the money to fix it up, a fact that still annoys him that they would tear down this historic building instead of finding a way to preserve it through alternative financing.

The gates were closed and we couldn’t enter.

Then we met Dolly and Arthur at Demaino’s restaurant, where everyone went for Pizza in the 1950’s.  Arthur is 85 and didn’t attend high school with the rest of them.

Amazingly, Loretta and Dolly have known each other since they were three years old.

The only one missing is their other partner in crime, Al Penta who lives in the state of Washington. But, they always hoist a glass and remember him when they get together.

Our time was short and sweet and then we drove to Dartmouth to Jim’s cousin’s house, Donna and Bob Parker.  Donna and I are both foodies and she immediately brought us some home-made Portuguese cookies and zucchini bread.

Then we had dinner at one of their favorite restaurants, Antonio’s. There was a sign on the wall, Martha Stewart was here, with her picture. I guess they took over the whole restaurant with their entourage. Anyway, the food is well-known to everyone in the area. Jim and I shared what is supposed to be a single entree, the Chicken Algarvia with chicken breast, shrimp and little neck clams.

Bob and Donna shared their entree of Pork Ribatejana, with pork, shrimp, little neck clams in a broth with fried potatoes.

And, like the entrees, the beers are huge. Bob chugs down the last swallow.  We’ll be staying here for five days. I dieted before arriving. You can guess why.