Last Day in Boston: A Walk, History and Meals in the North End.

My last day in the city began, as all good days should, at my now-favorite Modern Pastry shop, with cannoli and a huge café latte.

Afterward, I visited the very nicely done Holocaust Memorial:

These are the numbers that were burned into people killed in the Holocaust:

Then I took the T southward, to U Mass, where I caught a shuttle bus to the JFK Museum:

This museum is beautifully done, situated right next to the bay:

The museum hit the perfect balance of simplicity and being informative, starting with Kennedy’s selection in the primary:

and continuing with his victory over Nixon, with this map bringing back memories of a certain election in 2000, and thoughts about how to make the map look like this again:

I enjoyed seeing pictures from Jacquelyn Kennedy’s past:

For me, one of the most moving aspects of the museum was seeing the military veterans . . . a number of them were there, helping each other get around:

I have always loved this photo of JFK with Bobby . . . one of the vets liked it, too:

I even found one of the old veteran men standing in deep thought while looking at this display of Jacquelyn Kennedy’s baby things:

This room near the end of the museum tour was simply done, and predictably sad, with bare walls and a loop of Walter Cronkite's moving report of the President's death. The room opened into this more comforting space, with some of the tributes to JFK found around the world:

As if in an attempt to cheer a person up after that sadness, the enclosed rooms open into a large and airy space with this view of the bay:

With this inspiring quote to take with you, particularly appropriate in the current political climate:

Tucking another long and interesting ride on the Boston T under my belt, I arrived at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum, feeling grateful not to have been rained on:

Ms. Gardner must have been an interesting person. Visitors named “Isabel” may enter without paying admission. Also, Ms. Gardner willed that the displays must never be altered. This has resulted in the display of empty frames on the wall in one room, from which the original paintings were stolen in 1990 in one of the largest museum heists ever.

This courtyard was my favorite part of the museum, with its nooks all around, gorgeous flowers and ancient Egyptian sculpture inside . . . it reminded me of the Alhambra in Spain:

I beat the rain and fulfilled my mission to see the Public Garden, which was not quite what I expected, but still atmospheric in the misty weather. I loved the pond:

and this bird on the bridge:

and this string of swan boats:

My day ended with the most lovely Italian dinner at a hole in the wall in the North End (no, NOT Modern Pastry, as I could by this time distinguish cannoli from canneloni) . . . I had the special and adored it. Not quite ready to call it a day, I stepped into a local bar for a drink, and met an interesting man named either Larry or Robby (he introduced himself as the latter, but I could have sworn the hostess called him by the former). He was quite a gentleman, giving me the last stool in the place. We had a nice chat about his artwork he was carrying with him, his jobs and even a bit of political talk. It is always nice to find someone with whom you can have a casual chat over a drink.