American wheels

I'd had a plan when I set out on this trip to spend a few days driving around Florida. I thought it would be a good way to see different places, and it would give me a little more freedom than my Greyhound-heavy schedule had previously afforded me.

But as my journey south continued, the doubts began to creep in.

I'd heard nothing but negative comments about renting a car in the USA. No website I researched would give me a clear price for the rental, or made it so confusing that I wasn't sure what I'd be signing up for.

Even then, if I made it through the rental process, I'd then be left to fend for myself amongst the crazy drivers, often taking no notice of the rules, on these giant, reversed roads.

I ummed and I ahhhhed as I tend to do; considered the alternatives, and in the end threw caution to the wind. I managed to find a good pricing system on the STA website and just went for it. After all, how many times will I get to cruise the open highway heading up the Atlantic coast in the Sunshine State?

In actuality the car didn't quite fit the free spirit image.

It was a Ford Focus.

But a bloody good one! Just over 500 miles on the clock, new car smell, very lovely to drive.

And drive it I did! When I first got to the garage and the employee of the year waved his hand at three cars, said "One of them." and walked off, I was about to call the whole thing off! But I persevered, found a nicer attendant to show me the buttons and such, and then I was on the road. 

My initial experience wasn't so fun; the roads and roadworks around Fort Lauderdale were just messy, for a lack of a better adjective. The closure of the main road I'd planned to take threw another spanner in the works. But every cloud has a silver lining; it gave me the chance to visit Denny's for sustenance and to re-work my route. 

After my eggs and pancakes I hit the road and never looked back. The automatic aspect proved a doddle (after a few phantom gear stick grabbing). And to be honest, it provided some of my most enjoyable times cruising along listening to classic rocks stations, watching the changing lagoon landscape of Florida accompany me on my journey. Admittedly it also provided me with one of the most stressful experiences too; never try to follow a GPS to Hollywood Beach hostel. Roundabouts do NOT work in America! 

Yet all of it made up a great chapter in my trip, and have given me skills, experiences and memories I never had before. I can't wait to get back on the road! 

Good ol' Southern hospitality

It was with a warm glow I stepped off the plane in Myrtle Beach. In both ways. It was a bit of a shock to feel the comforting, enveloping warm air of South Carolina, even at ten in the evening. 

I'd had a lovely conversation during the flight with a local lady from Myrtle Beach who spent her time flying to different schools across the USA, advising schools on improving literacy, so we tried to set the world to rights (see Cantell folks, I'm still on the case over here!). 

My warm physical feelings were accompanied by warm anticipation of the South Carolina coast. After a few weeks in cities I was really looking forward to some time by the beach. And the few people I met arriving in Myrtle Beach confirmed the Southern stereotype. They were friendly, helpful and almost made me suspicious! 

Friday morning I woke up to the sunshine and walked one minute to the beach. The warm sun on my face was just what I needed. When I headed back to the motel I met the owner and the handyman. Both were lovely and couldn't help me enough. Dan, the handyman, even practically begged me to borrow his bike to go for a cycle. 

By heck I'm glad I took him up on his offer. I spent possibly my favourite afternoon so far cycling up through the hotel area, along the boardwalk and past the sights. Everyone I passed smiled or said hello. I stopped to take photos, watch the sea, browse in tat shops, look at the fairground and generally people watch. I treated myself to a late lunch then went for the return leg. 

I cannot explain how pleasant this was. I must've been smiling to myself the whole few hours I was cycling. Maybe that's why people kept smiling at me; maybe I was spreading smiles (or looking like a simpleton!). 

As I got to the Southern end, the sun began to set and that quieter area could possibly have been even more beautiful. What a day. My sweet Carolina! I definitely will return to you somewhen. 

Washington D.C ...with the big guys!

It was quite exciting to leave the bright lights of NYC and arrive in Washington D.C. This was for a number of reasons...

1) I was meeting up with Emma who I'd met in Boston (yes, I made a friend!), which was nice as it meant seeing a familiar face.
2) I was getting to a quality hostel with laundry facilities (Woohoo! Clean clothes!)
3) Emma had booked me on a night time tour of the major Washington monuments.

This meant that I would save time, and I would have a knowledgeable brain to pick over questions that I have found inevitably arise for me around US political areas. My curiosity and interest has constantly been piqued by their legal / political system that continues to both baffle and amaze me.

The tour was pretty good. It started off worryingly with many more people than who had signed up (there's a process people!). This proved a problem logistically getting the whole group to cross the roads at once. (As a side note, the countdown on pedestrian crossings is starting to stress me out.... QUICK! I only have 55 seconds to cross the street!)

Fortuitously, we lost people along the way. Don't worry, they're not still wandering; dinner reservations took priority. So we could ask our lovely guide lots of questions as we walked the Mall, saw the Washington monument, the war memorials, The White House and countless other white, pillared buildings.

The best part was coming face-to-toe with the big guy. Good 'ol Abe. It was very cool to see him and the guides were full of interesting stories such as the two sides of Lincoln. My only qualm was that he didn't have any great wisdom to bestow upon me.

The next day I met some other big guys who were more animated (only slightly). We visited D.C zoo, which, because it's part of the Smithsonian was free to visit! It was a great collection of animals, gorillas, otters, elephants and I even saw a panda!

The best guys though were the giant tortoises and a weird, prehistoric looking, giant turtle thing. Nature is weird, but totally amazing. At the risk of turning this blog into a shell-athon, check out these big fellas!

Night at the Museum

During my time in New York, I probably didn´t do nearly as much cultural / artistic / worthwhile activities as I should've done. I left the MOMA unvisited, the MET was not high enough on my hitlist and the Guggenheim didn´t get me too interested. I almost made it to the David Zwirner Gallery (based on a recommendation by a charming art student on the bus into New York), but the queue was all the way round the block, and I´ve made a promise to myself to limit my time in lines as I´m getting older (life is too short to spend it queing).

Museum wise, I did get to the Museum of Native American History, only because I stumbled across it by Battery Park. It was a worthwhile visit though as it has an abundance of information and exhibits about the whole variety of indigenous people, from both North and South America.

Later that day I made my way up to Central Park to visit the Museum of Natural History. I had planned to get there later in the day as I´d heard that it was free for the last hour. Now I´m not a cheapskate (well, maybe sometimes), but as a sense of British pride, I begrudge paying to visit a museum where its counterpart in London is always free. So ten minutes before the witching hour of 4.45 I arrived at the mighty building. I was excited before I even got in as they had dinosaur shaped Christmas trees outside (what would Ross make of those?). And then as the clock ticked to the free time, I was let loose!

It really gives you a sense of urgency with a strict time frame. I think there´s a gap in the market for speed-museuming. You bypass all the bits you´re not really interested in and get to the good stuff!

And what some good stuff they have. My personal favourite was the car-sized skeleton of a giant tortoise. If Doug ends up like this, we´re all in trouble!

The museum also gave me a chance to see some of the wildlife I´d missed out on in Canada. Finally saw a Moose, Buffalo and a few varieties of Bear. The North American displays were possibly the most interesting as they gave an insight into the wildlife habitats that I hadn´t really learnt much about previously. I shall be on the look out for cougars and such like as we cross the desert in the New Year.

Although I only had a limited time, I thoroughly enjoyed my night at the museum. The limited time made me concentrate my plan of action on the areas that really interested me. Also, I didn´t leave with the usual museum-leg fatigue. As the security guards ushered me out (I really used every minute) I left smiling, especially as night had fallen and on exiting I was gifted with the most glorious view of the Manhattan skyline across Central Park.

I headed down towards the bright lights, but a little part of me wondered what was about to happen behind the locked doors of the museum.

Dizzy Brooklyn Heights

During my time in New York City I most enjoyed my time in Brooklyn. A young man on the bus in had recommended a few sights to see in that borough. I spent a very lovely afternoon browsing antique shops, book stores and the new Rough Trade music store (with free instore performances and ping-pong...heaven).

I think the magic started on the first morning I was there. It was a bitterly cold, eye-stinging, gloriously sunny Thanksgiving morning. I took the subway to Brooklyn in order to walk across the Brooklyn Bridge.

All the times you've seen this bridge, or heard about it in movies or TV, it's just a bridge with a name. Then you step onto it, make your way under the looming, industrial beams and wires, and it takes on a life of its own.

It may sound strange, but I was overwhelmed walking over this bridge. It is such a classic icon of New York, and to be part of the life that surrounds it was a great moment. The glorious view of Manhattan changes ever so slightly with each step you take. The skyline that is so ingrained in our pop-culture looked absolutely beautiful that morning against the perfect rich, blue of the sky. The weather-beaten, rusted pillars provide a heavy duty frame for the changing pictures. 

There are no bad photos to be taken from The Brooklyn Bridge. 

I think I enjoyed being part of the community taking in the wonder of the surroundings that day. Yes, there were swarms of us tourists gaping at this new sight, but we weren't alone. There were families, older couples, young kids, cyclists out training, daily joggers... Each person had their own story to be on the bridge that day. Being Thanksgiving I could spot the extended families spending a few hours together in the fresh air before the turkey would be done. 

I don't think the smile left my face the whole time I was on the bridge. Or maybe that was just because it had been frozen into place by the bone-chilling wind. 

The Christmas spirit

Just a side note to my adventures in New York. Although it was Thanksgiving whilst I was there, Christmas was on its way in. The gigantic tree was up at Rockefeller Centre (although it wasn't being lit until after I left), the ice-skating was in full flow both there and in Central Park and Macy's were revelling in their Christmas decor as if they invented it.

I entered the big store as a cynical, non-shopper just wanting to get a taste of what everyone bangs on about. Being the retail novice I am I got lost (twice), and almost gave up before I reached Santa Land.

But I made it.

I caught a glimpse of the huge, colourful steam train engine that sits in front of the grotto and rolled my eyes at the overblown ridiculousness of it all. My English reserve took hold and I watched the action from afar. Then I tried to move closer only to be ambushed by the most enthusiastic elves in the world. Will Ferrell had nothing on these guys.

"Merry Christmas!" They chorused to everyone and anyone. I was caught like a deer in the headlights. I must've politely mumbled something back because they latched onto me. "Would you like to see Santa?" One offered.
I politely declined, pffted and self-consciously hiding my eyes, tried to escape.

Then this happened.

I think they could sense a chink in the armour, or they saw the tourist holding the camera, but they got me. On second asking if I wanted to see Santa I broke into a smile and gave in.

Why not eh? When in Macy's...

So, with a juvenile wonder I worked my way round the grotto, following the little train round the animatronic scenes of joy and stereotypical cute cuddlies. I sniggered at the cheesiness of it, but still the Christmas spirit can't be dampened.

Eventually I found myself meeting the big guy (although I think he may have franchised this gig out, I have serious concerns over the authenticity of the beard... Really Macy's?!)

I had a little chat to him, but I couldn't possibly tell you what about. That would ruin the spirit of Christmas wouldn't it?

How'd ya like them apples?

Well, I made it to Boston. Or 'Borston' as I'm trying to perfect my accent. My trip to Boston was well and truly made within two minutes of arriving at the hostel when the lady on the desk informed me that the movie they were showing that night was 'Good Will Hunting'! Now, my inner film geek stirred and I knew my activity for that evening. And it was as brilliant as it usually is, but it really took on an extra meaning to watch it in a cinema (kinda) setting with others, including a girl I met who'd never seen it before. Lucky girl to discover this gem in its cultural home.


Anyway, onto the real culture. Sort of. The first morning was a bright, crisp day and I took a walking tour to get my bearings. Boston was the beauty, history and stories I'd expected and more. The statue of Washington in the Common had apparently had a celebration of his own to celebrate the recent Red Sox victory.

It really is a beautiful city, and the people, both Bostonians and fellow travellers, were so friendly. The hostel had one of the most inclusive, welcoming and active 'environments' I've visited. (James, imagine the accent!)

I've been able to tick off a few must-dos here.
1) Visited the real 'Cheers' bar
2) Spent an evening in a 'real' Cheers style bar. $1 beers were wasted on me, but I almost exploded when The Dropkick Murphys came on the sound system
3) Went to Harvard (if anyone asks I just won't say for how long)
4) Walked the Freedom Trail
5) Visited the iconic gold-domed State House.

Which, incidentally, was the best guided tour I've been on so far. The lady was so knowledgeable and friendly, and told us interesting, funny stories. It also gave me a chance to better understand the US government system.

Which bodes well to give me a base knowledge to take to Washington DC on my next stop...

Water, water everywhere... (Part 2)

So, I couldn't go to Buffalo without visiting Niagara Falls.

Turns out there's a lot of water there too.

The forecast was for snow on the Saturday afternoon, so I decided to get up early and get there and back before the blizzard hit. Back to the bus station, $2 paid for a 50 minute bus ride (very reasonable  bus services I've found), and I was in the National Park.

I could write a long, descriptive account of the Falls and my experience of them. To be honest though, they didn't blow me away.

Yes they were vast in height, width and sheer volume of water and spray, but it's what you expect. Maybe I've been spoilt by seeing them on television and films, but it's exactly what you expect to see.  It was nowhere near as beautiful as some of the falls I'd seen in The Rockies.

Maybe it was because it was a freezing, damp day.
Maybe it was because I was surrounded on all sides by tourists.
But I was definitely underwhelmed.

There may be a heck of a lot of water, and it may be a wonder of the world, but it wasn't top of my wonder list. It was so cold I had to break open the handwarmers I'd had since Vancouver. But I've been there and can store my own memories of it.

Buffalo Broadway

Most people I spoke to about Buffalo were confused as to why I would go there. I thought it looked interesting, and I had to stop somewhere en route to Boston. This way I could get to see Niagara Falls as well. And when I realised I could time it to go to the Frank Turner show, I was sold on Buffalo.

I see why people have a negative impression of the city. A lot of the businesses have closed, and it's pretty deserted in the evening. But I thought it had a certain charm. Maybe it's because I have a soft spot for an underdog and everyone I spoke to had been running it down, but I could really see the treasure shining through the dirt.

The staff at the hostel were especially friendly. I have a feeling it was verging on a commune. One fella was going to install a fair trade co op supermarket in the back. Another guy invited me to a Ukrainian dance festival.

Buffalo is an old theatre town. The Town Ballroom still retains the old show time splendour in patches. I enjoyed talking to a couple in the queue for the gig whose parents had both met ballroom dancing there many moons ago.

The shining beacon on the deserted high street was Shea's theatre. It literally guides you to a warm glow of entertainment of years gone by.

It was a beautiful looking theatre, and by peeping into the foyer, it looked like they had returned the decor to the glory days of music hall. It was these little gems that endeared an otherwise dying, industrial town to me. 

My only disappointment was that I was unable to have a tour of the theatre as they had a Bryan Adams show that evening. Definitely next time I'm in Buffalo....

Water, water everywhere... (Part 1)

For a few days last week, I saw a heck of a lot of water.

I arrived in Toronto in the pouring rain. As I was only there a day, I had to assume the British stiff upper lip, don the waterproofs and get out to see the sights.

I was pleasantly surprised by the ease of my journey from the hotel to the city centre. The pessimistic gentleman on the hotel reception tried to warn me it would take over two hours to get to the town centre by public transport; a different story from the information gleaned from the night porter the previous evening. The negative receptionist tried to convince me to take a taxi, get the shuttle back to the airport...anything to avoid the bus from the stop outside. Having been stung by a fixed-rate taxi fare the night before, I ignored his 'advice' and plumped for the bus.

Within five minutes I was on the bus. My $2.50 fare carried me 45 minutes to the metro station and then a further short ride on the train (I hope for the same ticket; no one stopped me, there was nowhere else to buy a ticket and I was a confused foreigner in a strange land!). So I arrived in Toronto city centre ready for exploration.

Toronto is a big city. There's not much more I can personally say. I had a walk round in the rain, saw some impressive buildings including the CN Tower and indulged myself in a Tim Horton's.

I'm sure there's a lot more to see in Toronto than just the many tall buildings in the rain that I experienced, but I'll have to return another time to see the rest. I don't think my impression of it was helped by the fact that the persistent rain had caused major traffic issues in the city centre. This meant my bus journey was extended by an hour and a half on our departure route.

Bloody rain.