We (a co-worker and I) flew in late Thursday. A quick, aggressive cab ride from Logan Airport to the Copley Square Hotel didn't leave me with much in the way of initial impressions. Freeways and traffic, the scourges of every American city. At least the Bostonians are trying to hide theirs with the "Big Dig" -- a ten-billion-dollar project to bury all the expressways under the city.

The Copley Square hotel is small and pleasant -- nice, but not quite charming enough to be called quaint. The rooms are functional but the hotel is definitely lacking some of the amenities of its larger brethren. $160 wasn't exactly a bargain -- but then again, it wasn't too bad. But then again (again), the company was picking up the tab for this one.

After checking in we met downstairs to find a late dinner. The doorman directed us towards Skipjack's, a few blocks down the street. The weather was warm -- a typically humid East Coast evening. Great for seeing the late-night sites, but not so good for sleeping.

The entrance to Skipjack's is framed in blue neon that is nearly painful to look at. Inside, however, is a nice upscale seafood restaurant. We shared a grilled sashimi tuna appetizer (I'm not sure if something can be grilled and still be considered sashimi...) and then hit the main course. I went for a nice light seafood salad. My coworker went for the lobster. I guess I have a thing or two to learn about dining on the company's credit card. Anyway, the food was decent but not spectacular. A true feast of Bostonian proportions would come later.

* * *

I had grand plans for the next morning. I would wake up very early, before 5, and snap photos of the slowly awakening city before getting back to business at 8. Early morning is a special time for me -- probably because, more often than not, I sleep right through it. I set the alarm for 5, and, true to form, slept right through it.

Well, actually, I turned the alarm off around 4:30 after sleeping fitfully in the muggy room. Apparently I should have left the air conditioner on through the night but, being a longtime resident of the northwest coast, I had no experience with such strange devices. I finally managed to drag myself out of bed at 7 to take a short stroll.

A block east of the hotel is the Trinity Church, a gorgeous old building. It's a famous Boston landmark and is, officially, one of the 10 greatest public buildings in the US. It somehow manages to combine delicacy with oppression: light spires sit on heavy foundations; sombre stained glass lurks amid earthy stones.

My walk took me around the church and I took lots of photos, admiring every angle of it in the silvery morning light. I then headed down a side street before returning to the hotel. I noticed an interesting vista of some garbage piled in front of a political campaign office and stopped to take a picture from across the narrow street. A security guard from a nearby garage noticed and came over to talk.

"Excuse me," she said. "What are you doing?"

Whoops. Less than 12 hours in the city and I'm already in trouble. I mumbled something about taking pictures -- just for fun.

"Of garbage?" She asked.

"Well, don't you think it makes an interesting picture?" I said, pointing at the democrat's office. I wondered what her political affiliation was.

"Wow," she said. "You've got a pretty good eye."

Huh? I've got a good eye? Cool! I've received compliments about my photography before but that was the first time anyone had noted my ability to find the unobvious picture. With my head swelled about two sizes too big I mumbled something about practicing a lot and continued on my way.

Back at the hotel, I had about 20 minutes to spare before meeting my co-worker for the day's meetings. I went into the hotel's coffee shop (called Speeder and Earl's) for tea and a bagel. I had a very delicious genmai-cha (green tea with toasted rice and popcorn), but I probably should have gone for something with more caffeine to kick the jet lag.

With my coworker urging me on from the entrance I gulped down the last of my tea and we set off in search of the Four Season's Hotel to meet with another of our colleagues. We thought we had some vague notion of where it should be, but in reality we had no idea. We asked for directions several times and eventually by averaging them all together we managed to find the hotel. Not surprisingly it was much fancier than the one we were staying at. We wondered how our colleague had managed to get the company to spring for such posh accommodations. At the hotel we climbed into the big rental Pathfinder and drove out to the suburbs for several hours' worth of meetings.