On Saturday Alissa and I rode our broomsticks to Salem, Mass., for a good old-fashioned witch-hunt.
What did we find? Mostly rain, some witch-themed hen parties, and a handful of old men with thick Massachusetts accents (“chowda!”). Our first stop in Salem wasn’t actually in Salem at all but in the neighboring town of Beverly, which happens to house the Anchor Pub & Grille. During my extensive (internet) research last week, I discovered that the Anchor makes one of the best clam chowders in the area. The pub also has the distinction of refusing to accept any out-of-state IDs, which sort of made me feel like a criminal.
After chowing down on tha chowda and other bay-food, Alissa and I drove into Salem proper and let the witch-hunting commence. That basically means that we wandered from site to site snapping photos of anything vaguely witch- or warlock-related, while making horrendous puns along the way (“Witch You Were Here”).
Being as it was the first day of October, we delighted in the multitude of horrendous Halloween-inspired decorations on almost everything. From two-headed babies to sexy fangs to hex candles and done-up tarot card readers, Salem was a veritable cornucopia of SCARE.
I’ll be good to wait another ten years for my fourth return.
Our trusted steed.
Quick stop for coffee and then we were off.
Just inside Lexington, MA.
Crazy gourds at the House of Seven Gables.
I’ve been here three times now.
We agreed to purchase only one item.
Alissa was a turtle, I was a cordial.
Then we went to the place with the best clam chowder in Salem.
…And they wouldn’t accept our out-of-state IDs.
I assume all of these people were from Massachusetts, then?
We still got the clam chowder, even though we could drink.
Totally delicious. Even inspired a drawing from yours truly. (That’s a witch, not a man in a sombrero.)
This is what a real witch looks like.
Science has proven, no human being would stack books like this.
Witch you were there!