Today is my last full day in Boston/Cambridge, and tomorrow evening I’ll be back in Chicago.

The other day my friends Andrew and Naomi took me to Oliveiros’s a Brazilian steakhouse in Somerville. If you haven’t been to one, they all work the same way. There’s a big salad bar with stuff you largely want to avoid so you can eat more meat, and then the servers bring skewers of freshly-cooked meats to your table, and you indicate which ones you want. It’s mostly beef (sirloin, flank steak, etc.), but also lamb and sausages. They slice a long, thin piece from the skewer and you grab it with your tongs. This can go on forever, or until you’re sated.  If you like meat, it’s a great experience, assuming you pick the right steakhouse—like this one.

Below: a famous pre-drink cocktail, the Brazililian caipirinha. It’s delicious, and here’s Wikipedia’s take:

Caipirinha (Portuguese pronunciation: [kajpiˈɾĩɲɐ]) is a Brazilian cocktail made with cachaça, sugar, lime, and ice.  The drink is prepared by mixing the fruit and the sugar together, then adding the liquor. Known and consumed nationally and internationally, caipirinha is one of the most famous components of Brazilian cuisine, being the most popular national recipe worldwide and often considered the best drink in the country^[3] and one of the best cocktails/drinks in the world, having reached third place in 2024, according to the specialized website TasteAtlas.

Cachaça is distilled sugarcane liquor. It differs from rum by being made from freshly squeezed juice of sugarcane, while rum is made from fermented molasses. Cachaça also is not aged as long as is rum.

Doesn’t this look good? It was.

The buffet (aka “salad bar”). In the second photo, my friend Andrew is trying to rile me up by taking all the platanos, or fried ripe plantains. We both agree that that is the only item you should get at the salad bar (I also got a bit of potato salad).  I can eat many, many fried plantains.

Andrew trying to deprive me of platanos. Look at that evil expression!

Where’s the beef?  Here it is, and skewers of various meats keep coming:

A visit to Dorchester the next day, where my hosts Tim and Betsy used to live. (We all lived together on Beacon Street in Boston for my first two years in graduate school, inhabiting the tiny basement of the man who founded the New Balance Shoe company. I then moved to Cambridge and Tim and Betsy to Dorchester.)

Tim needed a pastry cutter to make real Southern biscuits, and we found a lovely, crowded kitchen store in Dorchester. It also sold cat clocks. I used to have one of these, black and looking like Felix the Cat. The tails wag back and forth with the seconds:

Lunch at the Steel and Rye Restaurant in Milton, right across the small Neponset river from Dorchester (Dorchester is formally part of Boston, while Milton is its own town). I had the Italian sandwich: “coppa, salami, mortadella, provolone, shredded lettuce, chili vinaigrette, ciabatta.” Quite tasty.

The restaurant was right by the Dorchester-Milton Lower Mills Industrial District, The old factory buildings remain, especially the one where they made the famous Baker’s Chocolate. They’re now apartment or office buildings, but are still lovely. The area as described in Wikipedia:

The Dorchester-Milton Lower Mills Industrial District is a historic district on both sides of the Neponset River in the Dorchester area of Boston and in the town of Milton, Massachusetts. It encompasses an industrial factory complex, most of which was historically associated with the Walter Baker & Company, the first major maker of chocolate products in the United States. The industrial buildings of the district were built between about 1868 and 1947. They were listed as part of the district on the National Register of Historic Places in 1980, with a slight enlargement in 2001. The buildings have been adapted for mixed industrial/retail/residential use.

Here’s one pair of buildings from 1905 with a nice metal bridge connecting the parts:

Back in Cambridge, you see this sign towering over Porter Square. I’ve not seen the likes of it before. It’s not far from Harvard.

My big doings yesterday consisted of going to the Japanese restaurant Yume Wo Katare in Porter Square. Although the link says “This is not a ramen shop,” it certainly is. (It’s the equivalent to Magritte’s “This is not a pipe.”) In fact, the only thing they serve is ramen.  You get a very large bowl in a delicious, rich, porky and garlicky broth with bean sprouts and pieces of pork (choose two or five big pieces). Your only other choice is whether you want extra garlic (you don’t need it; the broth is plenty garlicky) or a more spicy broth.  It’s delicious, with plenty of hand-pulled noodles and big pieces of juicy pork.  But the restaurant is also known for something else (see below, noting the “dream workshop” on the window):

The inside. I was heartened by the almost exclusively Japanese clientele, which testified to the quality of the ramen. There are no tables—only benches.

Below: my bowl. It was HUGE (I chose the five pieces of pork). I was able to finish everything except a cup or two of broth, but my stomach was absolutely distended: full of noodles sloshing around in broth. I had to take the bus home though it was only a 20-minute walk, simply because I was too full to walk. Needless to say, I had no dinner.

Each customer gets judge by the staff when they’ve finished, rated on how much food is left. I got a “good job!”, but I think everybody gets that.

My giant portion. This was the first time in my life I did not completely empty a bowl of ramen. But I ate all the solids!

The aspect of this restaurant that has made it especially well known is that customers are asked at some point in their meal to tell everyone in the restaurant their Big Dream. (They ask you if you want to recite one when you enter, and if you do they put a placard saying “Dreamer” at your place. ) Three people recited their dreams during my lunch: one woman wanted to visit all of America’s National Parks (there are 63), and a guy said his dream was to participate in an Ironman Triathlon, which includes a full marathon, a 2.4-mile swim, and a 112-mile bike ride. I can’t remember the other dream.

When they asked me as I entered the restaurant if I wanted to recite a dream, I said I was too old to have dreams, but of course that was not true. I still have them, but I am too shy to recite them.

Later today: a visit to Christina’s Homemade Ice Cream in Cambridge, the best place to get ice cream in America.

I really should describe trips as they happen, but this wasn’t possible on my trip to the Arctic as there was no Internet most of the time. Also, for me the impetus to post wanes after the trip is over. So I apologize for not being able to post in real time, but I’ll put up at least one post a week, and promise to cover the whole trip.

I’ve already posted part 1, recounting our arrival in Svalbard  and a tour of the rather anodyne town of Longyearbyen, the capital of the archipelago, here.  Today I’ll talk about about life aboard the ship, and then onto the landings, glaciers, iceberg, birds, walruses (walrii?), polar bears, and so on. The routine was to get up, eat breakfast at about 7:30 or 8, have a landing or a Zodiac cruise immediately thereafter, go back to the ship to shower and rest a bit, eat lunch, and then have another landing or Zodiac (rubber inflatable boat) cruise thereafter.  There were then a few hours before dinner. After dinner you could stay up as late as you wanted, but, given my insomnia (which largely disappears on trips), I read until about 9:30 pm or so before retiring. I thus missed much of the evening frivolity, which included quizzes, competition, and non-frivolous lectures about the Arctic.  Most lectures were in the breaks during the day, and I attended about half of them.

So on to the ship, the Quark vessel Ultramarine, designed specifically for polar voyages. The preceding link gives you plenty of photos of the ship and its features, and here are the specs:

Although it holds 199 passengers, I think there were about 140 on this trip, matching the number of staff and crew, including crew you never see—those dealing with the engines and other technical stuff.

Here’s the Ultramarine. It’s a lovely ship and I had no complaints about the voyage. I had a spiffy cabin (half price, which is why I took this trip), the food was great, and the staff and crew were uber-friendly.

The first thing one has to do after boarding is find one’s cabin. Mine is below. It was not fancy compared to other cabins, but it was plenty fine for me.  After that I explored the ship before people got settled.

Below: my cabin—spacious, comfortable, and with the essential porthole to see outside. It was light nearly 24 hours a day, and I checked that by waking up around 2 a.m. and looking outside. It wasn’t much different from how it looked at noon.

This cabin is meant for two people sharing a queen-sized bed, and on cruises each person sharing the cabin pays the same (substantial) fare, but I got this to myself for the price of a single person. What a deal!

Looking toward the other end with the essential porthole. There was also a t.v., but I turned it on only once and watched a bit of Cleopatra, which I’d recently read about (Burton and Taylor version).

The bathroom was compact but had all the essentials, including that nice hot shower—essential for washing off the cold and grime after a landing. I am visible, too. The shower is not visible, but to the right:

One of the great pleasures of such a trip is waking up and seeing what the view is outside. (The curtains are tightly drawn at night because it’s light outside.)

Two views as we approached Jan Mayen Island, part of Norway. As I said, it’s usually off limits to tourists but our head naturalist, Sarah, knew one of the military guys who, with meteorologists, are the sole occupants of the island, so we got to have a two-hour landing. More on that later:

The island is dominated by the world’s northernmost active volcano, the Beerenberg, which you can see here. It last erupted (a fissure eruption) in 1985.

The peak of the volcano, to the right (again through my porthole) has a snow plume blowing from it. (More pictures of the island in a later post.)

Iceberg Day! I was excited to see this one morning, and later that morning we got in Zodiacs anc cruised for an hour among a number of weird bergs carved off a nearby glacier.

There are four lifeboats, two on each side, and each is huge, provisioned with clothing, food, and other requisites. Lifeboat drill and issuing of lifejackets is one of the first things you do after you settle in. Note the crane used to lower the boats, which are on deck 4.

The bridge, with the captain in the front. It’s not like you’d expect; there is no wheel to steer the ship, but a knob. And when the ship is at sea, it’s often on autopilot. On this ship, unlike others I’ve traveled and lectured on, you are encouraged to visit the bridge at nearly all times.

Things get busy when there’s manual steering, as when we’re going through sea ice. Sarah, the head naturalist/guide, is at the right, with the captain to her left:

And the knobs that steer the ship. I believe they are duplicates for redundancy.  THERE IS NO WHEEL, MATEY!

The bridge is full of electronics that display course, depth, surroundings, and so on. Here’s the course display (click all photos to enlarge them).

And here’s the captain, who seemed very young! But I’m sure they wouldn’t put him in charge if he hadn’t proved his mettle. This is taken on the last night of the trip when they have the “Captain’s Farewell”, and all the ship’s personnel parade across the auditorium.  No staff are allowed to drink on the ship, at least not that I saw, so the Captain toasted us with a flute of water.

Part of the parade: the people who make the food: very important people!

The two photos above are in the auditorium, where there are several lectures per day (none by me this time; I was a passenger), as well as the nightly recap and the highly-awaited plans for the next day, which depend on ice, weather, wind, and other factors. Sarah, in charge of the planning, would always have two or three alternatives if we couldn’t do what we wanted. Fortunately, no plans were canceled on this trip: the weather cooperated greatly.

Besides the auditorium, there’s a lovely lounge on Deck 7, with a coffee machine, goodies like cookies and cinnamon rolls set out 24 hours per day, and, when the bar is open, free drinks. I find that i lose my appetite for alcohol when I travel, so I didn’t take full advantage of the booze. I think I had two beers the whole 11-day trip!  There is also a cozy library nook with tons of books about the Arctic and Antarctic (the ship goes south during our winter, when it’s summer in the Antarctic and not much ice to impede traveling). Having been to both areas now, I suppose you could consider me bipolar.

There are screens in the lounge in the front so you can see where we are and the ice and weather conditions.  In slack times, I’d often make my way here, have a cup of hot cocoa and a couple of cookies, and dig into one of the books about the Arctic. And I’d often go on deck to marvel at the scenery or take photos.

Again, you can see many of the ship’s amenities at the Ultramarine link at the top. They also include a sauna, spa, and gym, which I assiduously avoided.

Now on to the feature second in importance only to the scenery and landings, the FOOD.  There are three meals a day, all served in two places: the fancy “Balena” restaurant upstairs, which has buffet service for breakfast and lunch and individual-course service at dinner. There’s also the “Bistro 487,” a few floors up, which serves almost exactly what the Balena serves, but it’s laid out buffet style, three meals a day. I found the Bistro cozier and with better views (fewer tables, all by windows), and a place that was easier to meet people.

So, the menus.  First the Balena’s breakfast menu, displayed outside the restaurant:

Lunch (one menu, two pages):

Lunch, page 2. You can always get a burger if you want

And dinner (two pages):

Desserts are always of great interest to me, and this ship excelled in their quality and variety (see below):

And the Bistro. As I said, the food is pretty much the same as served upstairs, which is expected, but you can serve yourself at all meals. The guy at the end is the Omelet Man who will make you an omelet of your choice at breakfast. One day I asked for my version of a Barney Greenglass special: omelet with eggs, onions, and lox (yes! they had lox!)

Breakfast at the Bistro. Omelet man:

And his wares. In a failed attempt to eat healthy, I had a spinach omelet with vegetables. But there are always freshly scrambled eggs on tap as well. And since there are many Brits, Aussies, and Kiwis aboard, there are sausages, baked beans, blood pudding, and grilled tomatoes, as well as everything else you’d expect for breakfast. I fancied the plain rolls with local butter, which I’d slather with delicious strawberry or lingonberry preserves, which I think were homemade.

Another iteration of my breakfast with fruit, grapefruit juice, a chocolate croissant, a roll, scrambled eggs, and hash browns. So much for eating healthy! But I emphasize that I don’t eat like this at home, where I usually have one meal a day (dinner), along with a latte for breakfast and a light lunch like a grapefruit.

The all-important coffee machine, which grinds the beans on top. I always had two cappuccinos for breakfast. You can see there are eight hot drinks to be had, including cocoa. A waiter was constantly circulating with American-style coffee, but I eschewed it.

LUNCH!  My attempt to create lox and bagel with a schmear:

Most of this is in the Balena restaurant, where I’d often have lunch since it was buffet style. I don’t think I have any photos of dinner, but you can see the Balena’s layout at the Ultramarine link.

Cheese, and lots of it (with crackers). My theory, which is mine, is that Scandinavians like cheese:

The salad bar (only a part of it). There must have been about 20 items you could put on your salad, and always three dressings:

I always started lunch with a salad in my futile attempt to eat healthy. Note the CARBS at the top and some lox that found its way onto my plate:

Salad was followed by another plate, usually light to allow me room for dessert. Here we have some chicken, an unknown food (cottage pie?) at 3 o’clock, a few fries, and spanakopita to the left.

They also offered these luscious stuffed peppers, but I saw them too late—after I’d loaded my plate:

Finally, the crown jewel of the comestibles: desserts. There was always a tray of different fancy desserts, as well as three kinds of ice cream. You need that sugar after a spell among the icebergs! Photos are from both restaurants and from different days.

There is fruit for the timid, but I had my fruit at breakfast:

Bread-and-butter pudding with vanilla sauce. I could not resist!

And the requisite three ice creams, one of them vegan (sorbet, I guess). Here you get a choice of chocolate, pistachio, and apple (vegan) frozen desserts:

I always had at least two desserts, but more often three. Hey, they were small!

Now I didn’t spend all my time eating, nor did I expect this much food, and of such high quality. But it’s vacation, and that means it’s a Free Zone for Gluttony.  In the next photos, I’ll show our landings, glacier cruises on the Zodiac, and animals.

I do recommend the ship highly, and perhaps may take it again. I have a big hankering to go to South Georgia Island, where Shackleton and a few mates went to rescue their crew. But it’s a long haul at sea with nothing in between.  But it has the largest colony of king penguins in the world: 450,000 breeding pairs, or half the world’s population. I need to see that!  They also have many seals and birds, and there Shackleton is laid to rest as well. It’s traditional to have a tot of whiskey by his grave.