A warm welcome in Salem from women and witches
Pulling up at Marblehead’s Harbor Light Inn, my oldest friend and I wasted no time securing two counter seats at the Tavern tucked inside. A Christmas tree twinkled incongruously as we planned the hallowed pilgrimage most travelers reserve for spooky season: the next day we’d make the twenty-minute drive to Salem, the scene of the infamous witch trials of 1692. Peeling ourselves away from this glorious little seaside B&B, replete with canopy beds and resplendent fireplaces, would be harder than expected. “Excuse the smell! We’ve been baking all day,” said general manager Carolyn as we caught a waft of banana bread.
