07-04-2026 Departing Boston on the Fourth of July

Escaping from the hotel lobby into the heat of Boston

After an all-day drive to Portland and our red-eye flight to Boston, I found myself in a nightmare of unending exhaustion.

Viking representatives appeared almost immediately at the baggage carousel and whisked away every piece of our luggage. A very nice gentleman in a bright red suit and Viking hat walked us to a large black SUV, and within minutes we arrived at at the InterContinental Boston, a beautiful waterfront hotel overlooking Boston Harbor.

A lovely hotel,  but no breakfast photos, I was too tired

We were escorted to a beautiful restaurant serving an extensive breakfast buffet in cool air-conditioned comfort, with anything you could possibly want to eat. I was so tired I could barely decide what I wanted for breakfast.

After we ate, we were told to settle into the sofas and chairs in the large lobby and wait for Group 3 to be called for the bus to the ship. The problem was that we had arrived in Boston at 7:00 a.m., and Viking Neptune would not be ready for boarding for at least another four hours.

Three hours in a hotel lobby, with muzak droning softly in the background and exhaustion so deep that every minute felt impossible to remain upright, seemed like an eternity. Once we got on the ship, I didn't care what else happened. I was going to put on my nightgown and crawl into bed.

Boston was hot. Eighty-five degrees felt much warmer than we were used to because of the East Coast humidity. Inside the hotel it was freezing, so we wandered outdoors for a short walk. There wasn't a speck of shade anywhere, and yes, it really was that humid.

Back inside we put our jackets on and resumed waiting. People were mingling, chatting, and introducing themselves. Mo and I could barely carry on a conversation with each other, much less socialize with the seemingly energetic strangers around us.

Too tired to take a decent photo and the video didn't even record!

Then, suddenly, an incredible banging and ringing echoed through the lobby as a wildly colorful group of Indian wedding guests marched past with drums and bells. It turned out they were arriving for a wedding reception. The brilliant saris floated through the lobby like a flock of butterflies in a fairy tale garden. Family members gathered for endless combinations of photographs with the bride and groom, laughter filling the room.

The entire experience was absolutely delightful and a wonderful respite from our exhaustion. I looked at Mo and laughed. "I guess we aren't in small-town Grants Pass anymore." Soon the colorful procession disappeared into the banquet room, the joyous music faded away, and once again the hotel muzak reclaimed the lobby.

At last, sometime around eleven o'clock, our group was called. We boarded the bus for the short ride to the cruise terminal. Neptune isn't a huge ship, but seeing her for the first time from the dock, she seemed impossibly tall, and so very, very white. She was spotless and absolutely beautiful.

Embarkation was simple and efficient. We passed through document checks, were directed to another waiting area, and then, one group at a time, stepped aboard.

We were finally on the ship! Well... almost.

Being on the ship didn't mean we could actually go to our stateroom yet. With our stateroom category, we were allowed access at 2:00 p.m., not the first guests aboard, but certainly not the last.

When we booked, we had discovered what felt like the sweet spot. I could see almost no difference between the Veranda Stateroom and the Deluxe Veranda Stateroom except for a handful of worthwhile perks: entering our room an hour earlier, earlier access to excursion reservations, and earlier specialty restaurant bookings. For roughly two hundred dollars more, it was money well spent.

The bed was exceptionally comfortable, especially after I requested an extra foam pad

At two o'clock we finally reached our stateroom. It wasn't particularly spacious, but it immediately felt welcoming. Perhaps it only seemed small because we were so completely exhausted.

Two surprisingly comfy chairs for sitting and a nook for the walker on the left

My suitcase had already arrived, but Mo's was nowhere to be found. That was a little unsettling. Then someone delivered a suitcase that wasn't even hers, which didn't exactly inspire confidence. We knew her luggage had made it onto the Viking bus, so we kept telling ourselves it would eventually appear. It was still a bit stressful.

I didn't realize that we had begun sailing when I took this photo

After settling in, we headed up to the pool deck for sailaway. Boston Harbor was beautiful. Huge clouds hung over the city while cool breezes drifted through the partially opened glass roof above the pool deck.

The Pool Grill became a fav spot for lunches

Then came our first of many unforgettable meals. The Fourth of July buffet was everything you could imagine for an American barbecue, barbecued ribs and chicken, enormous lobsters, crab legs, every kind of salad imaginable, and of course potato salad. 

I messaged the girls in our family WhatsApp chat to reassure them that I was, in fact, eating potato salad on the Fourth of July.

The Viking musicians were performing as well, and every one of them was remarkably talented. The singer effortlessly worked through classic rock favorites, including Bruce Springsteen songs that sounded uncannily like The Boss himself. We were equally impressed by the pianist and guitarist.

As we slowly sailed away from Boston, the clouds grew darker and more ominous. Suddenly the enormous glass roof overhead, riding on massive tracks, began to slide shut. Its timing was perfect. 

Within minutes the storm engulfed the ship. Rain pounded against the glass roof overhead, bouncing and cascading across it while we remained warm and dry beneath. I couldn't imagine how they had known exactly when to close it.

And then there was this!

When we finally returned to our room, we were relieved to find Mo's missing suitcase waiting patiently outside our door. It didn't take long to unpack. Before long we slipped into bed, almost too exhausted to sleep.

Outside our open balcony door, the storm continued to rage. Boston slowly disappeared behind us, and the gentle swells of the Atlantic carried us quietly toward whatever adventures lay ahead.

Finally. We were here. We were on our way.