Las Vegas - Day 4

The alarm performed admirably and awoke me at 4:15. I refrained from smashing it to bits as it isn’t mine!

I was up, showered, dressed and out in time to have a light breakfast before getting to Circus Circus and waiting for my pick up.

This was actually ten minutes early, so good job I was there twenty minutes before. Having picked up everyone from various locations down the Strip we headed out of Vegas and into the suburbs. Apparently LV now has two million residents and one can see where they are going. There are huge slabs of houses out in the desert with more being built. They look like large Lego constructs in big squares just side-by-side-by-side.

We got to cross the state border between Nevada and Arizona as we crossed the Hoover Dam – there is a time difference here but our tour guide asked us not to adjust our watches as we would be using Nevada time for all our time checks and rendezvous.

The first stop we had was in the Joshua tree forest. This is an amazing place as it is only one of two in the world where these Joshua trees grow, and, as the name implies, there is a forest of them! It was spectacular to see.

We changed coaches into a slightly more industrial one as we were taking a dirt road to the canyon. This was fun as it was like being on a roller coaster with suspension.

Our next stop was the Hualapai Nation passenger terminal. In other word a small airfield in the middle of nowhere from which all the helicopter and plane rides emanate. We were divided into groups of six – that’s how many the helicopter holds – and went out to wait by the pads. This is a very efficient operation as there are several helicopters running backwards & forwards either to the bottom of the canyon or flying people around it. Before long I was in one, strapped in and we were airborne. It has been many years since I was in a helicopter and I was surprised we weren’t issued with ear defenders, but then I discovered we didn’t need them as it was a damn sight quieter than I remembered (ah modern technology eh?) and I was easily able to have a raised voice conversation with the woman beside me.

The real exhilarating part of the journey was dropping over the edge and looking down! “Shit, that’s deep!” was my initial thought as I saw the ribbon of brown water below. This ribbon was the Colorado river and is a reddish brown from all the rock sediment in it. We descended into the canyon slowly and the pilot actually hovered alongside some of the more spectacular rock formations jutting out of the side. I was thrilled and grinning like an idiot (something I seem to be doing a lot of lately) as we got to the bottom and disembarked.

A short hike down a dort and rock path took us to a jetty and the boat. The boat ride was only about twenty minutes but gave one a stunning view of the canyon from the very bottom. Looking up at the sides made one feel very small – as most large natural wonders tend to do!
The return was just as exhilarating as the pilot took us out a different way and we got to see more different rock formations. It made me wish I’d taken a geology course at some point so I could better understand what I was seeing.

Having returned to the passenger terminal we boarded the coach to return to the rest of the group who hadn’t opted for the helicopter ride and to head for our lunch stop. We picked the remainder up at the Skywalk where we had a chance to get out and have a look but didn’t have enough time to go on it. I was not terribly sad at this and having spoken to people who went on it this has not changed. The Skywalk – which resembles a small building site jutting over the canyon – doesn’t seem to be as impressive as it sounds, and having seen it, and it doesn’t protrude over the canyon vary far at all – 75 feet I was told. The thing costs $45 for which one gets one pass over the arc, only the very tip part is actually glass one can see through. Patrons are not allowed to take: water, mobile ‘phones (always a good idea in my book) and cameras. One must wear protective overshoes (makes sense) and keep moving – no stopping, loitering or changing direction. All in all I didn’t feel I’d missed very much so I wasn’t upset that we didn’t have the time to do it as we’d had the helicopter ride.

Our lunch stop was at Hwal Bay Nyu Wa – the home of the Hualapai. This offered some wonderful views of the canyon, which after having eaten I then explored. I let Spank out of his bag in order to enjoy the view and he was most unimpressed by the lack of trees – he wanted to go back to the Joshua tree forest and play.

We all re-boarded the coach for the return journey which gave us a stop at the Hoover Dam and Lake Mead – that is the lake created by the dam. It was very poignant to note the calcium line behind the dam which represented the drop in water level over the last 15 years and measured 150 feet (they still use old money measurements here as I’ve said before) so it is not hard to “do the math” on that one. This drop has been caused by global warming and consumption. Vegas has cleaned up its act a little in that it uses all its grey water for all its water displays – of which there are hundreds. The other problem is the lack of rain and snow melt – most of which comes from the Rockies - feeding the Colorado.

Having returned to Las Vegas we were all dropped off at our respective pickup points at about 17:30.

As it had been rather a long day for me I grabbed something to eat on the way back to the hotel and headed for bed to dream of being a helicopter pilot.

Las Vegas - Day 3

I decided to have a day of resting my feet today and also get some of the blog entries posted as I had fallen behind rather a lot.

I finished all the blog updates for New York and posted them – a handy thing about having a good Internet connection.

I also did some research into the Grand Canyon trips on offer and settled for a coach-helicopter-boat trip. This entails a coach taking one to an airfield, a helicopter flying one into the canyon and landing at the bottom where one gets in a boat for a trip up the Colorado river and back again (not its whole length) and then the helicopter picks one up and takes you back to the airfield. Having decided on this I then made use of the free local calls the hotel offers to book it. The shock came – not in the price because I knew that – in the pickup time at Circus Circus of 5:45. Right, I’ll set the alarm and ensure an early night. Circus Circus is only ten minutes dawdle or five minutes walk from where I am staying so no problem.

As I had spent most of the day closeted with my laptop I decided I would go out and make sure I have the right entrance for the morning pickup. There was no chance of getting that wrong because the entrance to Circus Circus is a huge canopy of lights – you can actually feel the heat from them – with a fake set of balloons in the middle of it looking like they might drop from above.

Whilst there I decided to partake of their buffet. Whilst it might not have been as wide ranging as Bellagio’s it was rather immense and, yet again, I was surprised at the quality of the food. The vegetables were obviously steamed and had to be cut or chewed, a mercy for me as I hate vegetables boiled to a pulp. The meat selection was just about everything and I opted for some roast beef from the carvery. This too was superb as it just melted in the mouth.

Mummy will be proud of me as I actually cleared my plate! This seemed to take the little clear-up man by surprise as he asked me if I was going back for more. “No thanks” I said, “I’ve had enough”. This is not the norm in these places as it seems the done thing is to take far too much and leave at least half a plate of food behind – more Vegas wasteful extravagance. I did select a lemon meringue for sweet which was so light I finished it and went back for blueberry pie and ice cream, which I finished too.

Now I can make some observations of the average American and their eating experience. I have observed during my travels, and especially in Vegas, that the tendency is to excess and beyond especially when given a free choice like a “eat all you want” buffet. Plates were mounded so high I expected to see a little flashing red light on top to warn off low flying aircraft, and two fat ugly lard arsed women actually selected two deserts each – and then went back for another two! There were times when I had to concentrate on my own plate for fear of being sick at other’s gluttony.

Another observation is the Americans inability to use two items of cutlery at the same time. I am not sure if this is a motor deficiency or hand/eye coordination problem but the idea is to just use a fork, rip lumps of food from the main pile and scoop them into a gaping maw. The fork is really just a tined shovel. If two items of cutlery are used then the fork is a spear, used to hold down whatever half an animal is being eaten, whilst the knife is used to slash it into lumps. When the slashing is finished the knife is discarded and the “fork shovelling” can then commence. This can be done whilst having a conversation either with real live companions or on a cancer ‘phone. I still cannot understand – nor shall I even try – why someone wants to make a ‘phone call whilst one is eating. I just find the practice quite revolting and get those Judge Dredd feelings again; whereby I want to pass summary trial and execution of the perpetrator.

Having eaten my fill and left nothing behind I had a gentle waddle back to my hotel and fell into bed.

Las Veas - 2

Today was bright and sunny when I awoke so I thought I’d better get out there and hide from it. I treated myself to a haircut – battery clippers worked fine – and went in search of breakfast. There is a diner just round the corner from the motel, right on the Strip in fact, but it was full by the time I got there at 9:30 and people were queuing up to get in. Bugger that for a game of soldiers I wanted to get on with my day, so I walked a bit further down the road to another restaurant/diner. As there is only one of me, and I didn’t mind sitting at the bar, I got to sit down straight away. I had steak & eggs for breakfast along with toast, coffee and orange juice – lovely – and the whole lot came to less than $20. Suitably fuelled I was back on the street.
I retraced my steps back past the motel and down to The Hilton – scene of the Elvis residency – home of The Star Trek Experience!

I am unashamedly “a Trekkie”. I fell in love with Star Trek because I have an imagination and felt I could see a vision and an ethic in it. I am also a big Gene Roddenberry fan. The man was simply a genius and a very clever one. Having seen interviews with him I can also prove myself right; there is an ethic and a vision in it and Gene Roddenberry was the one to give it light and air. Simply put the idea is of humans living and working together. My belief is that the next proper and progressive revolution will be when people begin to think of themselves as humans first before polluting themselves with national, political, ethnical or religious dogma. When that happens a lot of problems will go away – because we are all human.

I digress. Getting back to the genius of Gene Roddenberry; he managed to create a “wagon train to the stars” as he put it containing a representation of humankind including Russian, Japanese, Scottish, American (of course), and African people and actually had the temerity to make the African a woman! This might sound rather boring but one has to remember and put into context the time he was doing this – mid 1960s – and the conditions which prevailed in “The Home of the Brave and Land of the Free” where he was doing it. I explained the same to Doug and Jonah back in Seattle and they both expressed enlightenment as they were too young to know what it was like in 1960s America (because they hadn’t been born) – and they obviously don’t teach that with pride in grade school.

1960's America was probably one of, if not the, most repressive societies on Earth. Freedom of speech was only allowed if you were saying what the government wanted or allowed one to say and certainly not if one was black. The country still practiced segregation and McCarthyism was still alive and persecuting people. This was the time of very hot Cold War and the Cuban missile crisis was barely over. On this cesspool Gene Roddenberry dared to float a boat of hope, and did it very cleverly in my opinion. Oh, I forgot to mention the high degree of censorship being exercised in all the US media at the time – GR managed to circumnavigate this too!

He very cleverly made the man in charge; the Captain – James T Kirk of legend – an American (of course) and got a big tick in the box for that. To deflect any follow up to that one he made the First Officer an alien – the Vulcan Mr Spock – thus distancing or insulating the rest of the bridge crew from the American man in charge. (I keep pointing out the “man in charge” because women, even white ones, where very much “kitchen items” and didn’t have the same rights as men. They couldn’t have bank accounts in those days – their husbands had them instead.) The rest of the bridge crew were made up of a Japanese man (remember Pearl Harbour), a Russian man (remember Cuba and the fact they are “god dam Commies”), a Scotsman (that was safe as an engineer), another American as the doctor (that was ok because he was a good ol’ southern farm boy) and... wait for it... a black woman! Bloody hell the last was a bit hard to swallow but GR sold it to the censors as a representation of humankind in space, the United Federation of Planets was what it said on the tin – a federation of planets, not nations because people where thinking beyond nationhood. I think GR shamed the censors into looking at a far bigger picture than their tiny minds were capable of – so all they saw was an American (white man – tick box) in charge with an alien (does not compute, do not understand) as second in command – who was cleverly described as the science officer – a good old home boy doctor (white man – tick another box) and “the rest of the crew” who were predominantly white men (tick a few more boxes – but query the Russkie & the Jap) - oh alright we’ll let it pass, but we’re still not too sure about a black woman, but at least the man in charge is a man, white and American. [If the last sentence seems disjointed – good! I was trying to convey that very effect as being my interpretation of how a dysfunctional censors mind might work.]

So in all this oppression and repression GR dared to create a ship of hope called Enterprise. This was the flagship of what became the Star Trek legacy and that has continued to examine the human condition through all its manifestations from The Original Series, The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, Voyager and Enterprise.

Another person who deserves an honourable mention is a former Vegas resident with the foresight and vision, not to mention faith, to actually come up with the money - Lucille Ball. The original series of Star Trek was made at the Desilu Studios and first aired in September 1966 – just after the one and only time (ever) England won the FIFA World Cup!

Now that I’ve sent everyone to sleep with a condensed philosophical history lesson, I’ll tell you about my day.

I spent the whole day in the Star Trek Experience reading every dot and comma, studying all the Trek artefacts, and going through the “Borg Invasion” and “Klingon Uprising” experiences several times each. I was happy as a pig in poo!

I also took the behind the scenes tour which showed how they generate all the special effects one goes through and that was fascinating. The actors playing the parts are all actors (as in real ones) who work up their own back stories to their characters. The people not only play parts in the scenarios they also stroll around “Quark’s Bar” which is the restaurant/bar just outside the main exhibition. I had very interesting conversations with a Klingon and a Ferengi whilst I was eating there.

Having exhausted myself and the exhibition I made my way back to my quarters on Hotel Enterprise and signed off for the day.
[This is proof that not all sad bastards cause people harm!]

Las Vegas - Day 1

Although I didn’t mean to I spent the whole day “walking the Strip”. I will explain.

The day was bright and sunny when I arose and I was on the streets by 10:00. I took my “super coat”, just in case, and whilst I was strolling about thought I might have overdone it on the coat front. I am in the desert though – although Vegas doesn’t give one that impression whilst you are in it – and if I am wandering about after sunset it will get cold.

My hotel is located near the north end of the Strip and as I’d already walked up to Stratosphere last night I headed south to take in the rest of the “resorts”. They are called such because not only are they huge hotels – I think the smallest has 600 rooms – they also house casinos (of course) and at least one theatre and/or auditorium (where all the paying shows are performed) a buffet restaurant, a fine dining restaurant and a snack/fast food restaurant (there may be multiples of any or all of these). In addition to these one will find a stack of shite shops (selling designer rubbish to made in China souvenir rubbish) a pool, spa, and an assortment of “tart up places” where one can top up the Botox if one’s face isn’t totally paralysed.

I can also confirm all the other things one has heard about these places. They do not have windows, clocks or exit signs – if you want to find the way out head for “Main Lobby” or “Las Vegas Blvd” and don’t forget to take a compass and make a map as you go! If one is at a table and playing virtually all drinks are “complimentary”. (I put the term in inverted commas because, of course, one is paying for them whilst playing!) The slot machines do have slots – BUT, they only accept “gaming cards” the ones victims get for staying in the hotel which have $50-100 credit on them (note: “credits must be played and cannot be cashed” – the signs tell one that if you read them), credit cards or notes – any from $1-100 bills are accepted. Don’t bother trying to find a coin slot – they don’t exist! The slot games can range from 1 cent to $5 a spin – how lucky do you feel, punk?

I have to confess I was fascinated by the whole thing – it was a revolted, morbid fascination, but I did find it fascinating. As people who know me will already know, I love people watching. This is an old hobby of mine and I can now say I have “discovered” a new breed of people – moronis totalus spasticus, with a sub-species of cretinous gambalus. It was the best anthropological study I have ever experienced. It also gave me a wonderful pot-pouri of emotions: fascination, intrigue, amusement, revulsion and disgust. I was trying to think of a drug which might induce all these sensations at once, but I have never encountered it, so I will just have to call it LV. [Hey man, wanna score some wicked LV? It will keep you intrigued all day!]

All the “resorts” are decorated in lavish opulent style – all fake and plastic mostly – with the emphasis on “over the top”. Everything in Vegas is over the top. Gaudy, flash, excessive, ludicrous, wasteful, illusional, false would also do. But I still have to say I was amazed and fascinated by it at the same time.

As I was on my way down the Strip I did walk through the “Miracle Mile”. This might be a mile long (I neither know nor care) and the miracle was I got through it without killing, maiming or otherwise harming any of the vacuous fools flocking to it – I count myself a vacuous fool for bothering to have a look. It is full of all the shite I deplore and empty-headed women and vain pretentious men all love, yes it is the home of designer rip-off houses. Things like GAP (in the cerebral hemispheres required), Armani (and Legani is what it will cost you), Lacoste (is very overinflated), FCUK (will make you appear a total CNUT – thanks to Andy Hamilton for that one), Tommy Hilfiger (I’ll just stitch letters spelling my name on an ordinary garment and quadruple the price), Victoria’s Secret (is it is just ordinary made in China stuff with a silly price tag on), and I could go on but it is a waste of typing and wear and tear on my fingertips.
Needless to say the whole place is a 24 hour front geared to sham, illusion and entertainment (oh by the way, it will alos be taking money off you at the same time!

I could go into a blow by blow account of every resort I visited, but I won’t because without seeing it one cannot appreciate the scale and excess of the place without seeing it. One example; Paris Las Vegas actually bought a pavement (sidewalk) from the city of Paris in France (where it really is for those geographically challenged) and shipped it to their resort so they can claim to have “a bit of real Paris” for visitors to enjoy! Oh and the Hilton, or Trump Tower or one of those with gold windows actually has the windows plated with 18 carat gold leaf!

The free shows which these resorts put on every night are quite amazing and, of course, totally over the top. The Treasure Island show was temporarily shut for maintenance so I didn’t get to see the pirate ship sink, but the one which really impressed me was the dancing fountains outside Bellagio’s. These were superb as accompaniment was from a sound system which Pink Floyd wouldn’t have refused to use and the fountains (huge geysers of water) were lit from beneath and the sides so they did appear to dance. The tallest of them was shooting water 30 metres into the air and the crack the water made when it hit the surface again was both timed to punctuate the music and sounded like a battery of fireworks going off. I was very impressed with the show but couldn’t help wondering at the waste of energy and resources which went into making it. Having said that it is the one I went back and saw three times – score 10 hypocrite points for Phil.

I did avail myself of the buffet at Bellagio’s which was superb and had a choice of... just about everything!

When I returned to my hotel I thought my feet must be bleeding in my socks because they hurt so much! They weren’t, but they did appreciate me sticking them under a cold shower.
As I was knackered by this time I just switched on the TV for some mindless entertainment and got some news. (Remember “news” in America is American News – if you want “rest of world” watch BBC News 24) I heard the announcement that Evel Knievel had died and felt a pang of sadness at the passing of another icon – mad bastard though he may have been. Apparently he tried to jump the statues at Caesar’s Palace in Vegas (why?) but failed when he clipped one of them.

Having now reached a state of total exhaustion I fell into bed wondering what Vegas would bring me tomorrow.

Washington D.C. to Las Vegas

I awoke just before the trusty alarm clock made any noise so I didn’t disturb anyone. I had set the alarm for 4:45 and as it was 4:30 I thought it best to get up than try and steal the extra fifteen minutes. I showered and dressed and packed the last few remaining bits (being an ex-Boy Scout I was already prepared) and headed for the door. On the way to it Steve stirred and sat up, “Have a good and safe trip mate” he said sticking out his hand “it was a pleasure meeting you.” We shook hands and I told him likewise, he’s a good bloke, and I wished him all the best for his settlement in America and hoped he didn’t have to hack through too much more red tape. I left quietly and silently wished Eric all the best with his studies and a safe journey back to Mexico City.

I was checked out and on the street by 5:10 heading for Metro Center in order to catch the orange line train for L’Enfant Plaza where I would pick up the bus to Dulles airport.
The train journey was no problem and neither was the bus journey – eventually!

I exited the station and found the bus stop for the 5A Express to Dulles Airport and I was in time for the 6:10 bus – which was what I planned. I waited. 6:20 came and I was getting rather perturbed. Two other buses indicated on the board had come and gone – twice each – and a small degree of trepidation was beginning to form. No matter I can get a cab if all else fails, although I didn’t want to spend $30 when I could spend $3! Another guy with a case joined me at the bus stop. A driver got off of one of the many commuter shuttle buses, which queued up at the stop and took away lots of people getting off the trains, and asked us if we wanted the Dulles Express. We did, and it transpired we were waiting in the wrong place as the busses ran from just down the road past the next set of lights – about 300 metres. We thanked him very much and set of down the road to the indicated stop. When we got there we started chatting about sharing a cab if we had missed the next bus – which was 6:50 – and both agreed it as a backup plan. The bus arrived; we got on, paid our $3 each and sat down. On the way, it is about a 45 minute journey, we chatted about all sorts of current affairs mainly centred on the economic rise of China and its consumption of resources to the point of causing world shortages elsewhere.

We got to the airport, in enough time, and headed for our respective check-ins and wishing each other pleasant and uneventful journeys.

In order to get to Vegas I have two flights; 1) DC to Dallas, Fort Worth and then 2) Dallas to Las Vegas, McCarran with a sixty-five minute wait between flights. Our flight was delayed by half an hour – not a lot we could do as we were all sitting on the plane – and I was hoping that the flight time on my connecting ticket was local or I’d be stuffed.

The flight was uneventful and most people, the ones with connecting flights, hurried off the plane, me amongst them. Fortunately the departure time was local and I only had a twenty minute wait before boarding. I double checked with the check-in staff that my luggage had been transferred – my ticket said it was checked thru (more child spelling) but I wasn’t taking any chances – they assured me it was.

The departure gate I had to use at Fort Worth was rather novel. One enters a large room with seats around the edge and poles and rails to hold on to – like a wide train carriage – and then a guy comes along climbs into a cab and drives the thing across the airport apron to the departure lounge proper. These things are big Portakabin type things on wheels, it was quite fascinating to watch others driving back full of people who had just disembarked.

I was able to relax a bit when I got seated and the plane began its taxi-off.

I couldn’t see much of Vegas as we approached because it was covered in cloud and it was raining. Welcome to the desert! Apparently they had been experiencing a freak downpour for the last two days as the result of a storm off the coast of California. It is meant to be better tomorrow though. I knew I was definitely in Vegas as there were slot machines in the arrivals lounge!

I located the bus shuttle stand and got the shuttle to Villa Roma Motel. The place was quite alright, clean, tidy and about to undergo a major renovation. I dumped my bags and headed out for something to eat.

As it was still raining and the cloud was hanging low over Vegas the whole sky was alight with reflected light, I have to admit it looked quite spectacular.

I hit the strip in search of food. Bloody hell, who pays the electricity bill here? This place is lit up like a forest of Christmas trees!

I found a diner slightly out of the way of the main drag and ate in comfort as I was only one of ten people in the place.

Now full and feeling the time I had been up – another time zone change had thrown its spanner into the works – I returned to my hotel and crawled into a big comfortable bed. Aahhh, bliss. I will go exploring properly tomorrow.

D.C. - Day 4

I eventually surfaced at 9:00 this morning and then after showering & getting ready spent the next two hours talking to Stephen about driver and vehicle licensing in the US, UK and New Zealand. We eventually realised the time and that fact we should be doing something as the morning was virtually gone.

I decided brunch was a good idea to fuel me for the afternoon.
Having eaten I headed for the International Spy Museum. I figured with the FBI in town and the CIA just up the road it should be quite good.

I was not disappointed. On first arriving one is given the choice of a cover identity and then after a short introductory & set the scenes film one is invited to test the memory of the cover you adopted.
There were all manner of tips and tricks detailed and explained and some of the equipment which had been manufactured for use in espionage was quite astounding. Not only were these on display – often as they appeared and deployed – some of the stuff was “recovered” in operations. The displays and background stories behind these things was very well balanced as I expected it to be a very biased “we are the best and never suffered any losses” affair on the part of the US. It was not, and detailed several catastrophic failures on the part of the CIA and NIS. It also had a very good section on “the famous five”; Blunt, Burgess, McClean, Philby and Cairncross. I deliberately put John Cairncross out of alphabetical order as it was never proved (or admitted by the KGB) that he was “the fifth man” but suspicion was enough to tar him with the same brush as he was one of the “Cambridge Apostles” with the rest of them.

There was an intriguing (for a saddo anorak like me) section on cryptography and a detailed example of the workings of the Enigma machine (bloody clever and very fascinating) and a huge mention and whole sub-section on Bletchley Park – one of the best kept secrets ever!
There was a whole section on the use of espionage during wars, especially communication and the importance of double agents feeding disinformation back to the enemy. This ran from Sun Su right through to Gulf War 1 where the extensive use of camera drones was instrumental in locating mobile scud missile launchers.

There is a whole article on the building of new Russian and American embassies in their relative countries. Because these buildings were bugged to hell in the building process (both of them) they both took five years longer than planned or scheduled to build. The yanks actually tore down their embassy from the second floor up and rebuilt it with materials shipped to Russia under diplomatic immunity from scrutiny. This consisted of concrete, steel and glass used in its construction.

There was a lovely paperweight the head of the CIA had on his desk for many years (don’t ask me which one) which was made from a section of the embassy wall when it was torn down and clearly showed two electronic bugs embedded in the concrete.

I just managed to get round the whole place before they threw everyone out at closing time.
I headed back to the hostel and stopped in a curry house on the way for food – very nice.
When I got back I headed for the lounge area as I had some planning and booking to do for my stay in Las Vegas.

Having trawled through multiple options I booked a few nights in a motel just off the strip. This actually worked out cheaper than the hostel because the hostel had no dorm rooms, they were all private, and I would have been stung with a single supplement (rip off in other words) which made the room $108 per night! [Their wonderful advertisement quoting $21 per night was for four people sharing a “quad room”!] As the motel worked out only $50 per night I decided I would have my own space for a while. Having booked that I then checked my flight was all according to schedule (it was) and then headed for bed as I would have a very early start in the morning.

D.C. - Day 3

Today was bright and sunny with clear blue skies – just perfect for the walking tour today.
I met our guide Larry, and all the other people who had signed up for the tour, down in the lobby and we set off at 9:00.

We stopped at a few local places on the way and a few statues – mostly War of Independence people – and Larry explained why there were no high-rise b buildings in downtown Washington; there is a legal limit of twelve stories to any new building so as not to encroach on Capitol’s overseeing of the city. The next stop, or Rather pausing place, was the south side of the White House – this is the one with the large portico and huge lantern. There were a few protesters about, one protest being very noisy by playing some pretty good rock music over a PA system. It was also quite healthy to see they hadn’t been shot by the snipers on the White House roof – they will probably get their doors kicked in at 3:00 by the FBI instead! Obviously the White House isn’t big enough to hold all the bullshit a government requires so the West Wing is where the majority of the offices are and this is linked by a “big corridor” through which all the maggots can scuttle. [I don’t think maggots actually scuttle do they? The cockroaches do though, the maggots just crawl.]

We continued around the complex until we were facing the South side of the White House – this is the one with the big bay window. The chance of getting a photograph staged to appear as if I was crapping on the White House lawn was just not possible, one can’t get near enough or exclude the high double fence around the place (certainly not without the extensive use of Photoshop or some such image manipulation software.

We walked past the big Christmas tree (which the moron and his wife will switch on next week) up to the Washington Monument. Larry recommended we get tickets now if we want to go up it (admission is by ticket only, but they are free) and if any of us were going to accompany him on the Arlington Cemetery tour after lunch go for a 16:00 ticket. I got my ticket for 16:00.

The next pause was at the Jefferson Memorial. We all took a few photographs and Larry told us lots of things about Thomas Jefferson which I have since forgotten, but can be easily retrieved from Wikipedia or some such information source, and then we moved on to the Roosevelt Memorial.
This is a most interesting Memorial as it is divided into four sections – one for each of his terms of office. As one probably knows, Franklin Delano Roosevelt was the only President to be elected for four terms – he didn’t get to serve them all because he died shortly into his fourth. This was an exception because FDR started his tenure during the depression of the 1930’s and then the Yanks actually decided to join in the war and win it for everybody – so FDR got another two terms. The last term was effectively going to be a “mopping up” term. After this it was made a constitutional law that no one person can serve more than two terms – thank the deities for this before the present cretinous incumbent takes us into World War 3. (I suppose being really early for the third one might make up for being late for the previous two!)

Our next monument was the Korean War Memorial. This was a very clever and symbolic thing. It shows nineteen soldiers of various skills and ethnicities reflected in a marble wall – the war was basically fought over the 38th parallel.

Following this we visited “The Wall” as it is called. This is the Vietnam Memorial and when one seeds the scale of it – the whole wall is covered in names – it makes one wonder just how many more of its own children this nation will throw away over a senseless political struggle they need not have got involved in. I hope the photograph conveys some idea of the size of this thing which was modelled as a cut in the ground leaving an open wound. It was quite chilling to behold.
Our next stop was the Lincoln Memorial – the place where Martin Luther King gave his “I have a dream” speech.

We had a lunch stop at a little cafe – where I actually got a decent cup of coffee – and then those of us who wanted to, which was most, started the trek to the Arlington Cemetery. To do this we had to cross the bridge over the Potomac River and enter the state of Virginia. The cemetery is huge and nearly full but contingencies have already been made for this and some extra land acquired. With this warmongering turkey they have in the White House they had better be quick in getting it ready.

We toured some of the famous graves like; John & Jackie Kennedy, the memorial stones for the Challenger and Columbia crews, plus Joe Louis and Lee Marvin. (The latter two were soldiers and therefore entitled to be buried in the National Cemetery.)
We had a look round the mansion at the top of the hill – used to belong to the Lee family – which is in the process of being renovated, so was rather empty – well very empty actually.
We then stopped at the amphitheatre, which is used to give some address each year, behind which is the tomb of the unknown warrior. This has a guard parading up and down on a carpet in front of three plaques – representing the Air Force, Army and Navy – and the guard is changed regularly. We were going to be in time to see it! This is very serious, especially for the poor fools doing it, but like all “military bullshit” it is full of unnecessary heel clicking – reminiscent of Nazi salutes – and a theatrical inspection of an empty rifle with a bayonet on top. I did refrain from laughing whilst all this was going on, but only just. After it was over I was sniggering gently and I caught the eye of Jacko (an Aussie guy in our party), we took one look at each other and had to run around a corner before we pissed ourselves laughing.

We walked back the way we came – across the bridge over the Potomac and back into DC – and finished up visiting the World War 2 memorial. This was a bit hard for me to swallow as it depicts four eagles bestowing the garland of victory on the nation – thanks for turning up in time! I didn’t bother taking any photographs of this.

Having come full circle we arrived at the Washington Monument where Larry took his leave of us. We entered the security tent and then proceeded to the elevator.

At the top the views are quite superb and well worth making the effort to see. Having took several pictures in all directions I headed back down – just before the thing shuts for the night.
I had a gentle stroll back to the hostel as my feet were telling me I had reached the days walking quota, and they were very grateful to be set free.

I decided to have my Chinese remains for supper, so I placed them in one of the nuclear ovens and exposed it to radiation for three minutes. It was hot when I got it out and I didn’t hear of any Russian dissidents dying so it must have been semi-safe radiation.
I took my plate out to the dining area and Stephen was sitting there reading a paper. “Sit there if you like” he said indicating a vacant chair at his table. “Thanks” I said and joined him. We had a chat about things – he is sorting out a driving licence and needs to take a US test to get his US licence.

We were waxing lyrical about the hoops one has to jump through to get a driving licence (it is the same with foreign nationals in the UK – they need to take a test) but one advantage here is that one can get a driving test the same day as one applies – that is very different from the UK. We were joined by a young lady Stephen had obviously been chatting to before. He made the introductions and it turns out Ruth that is her name, comes from the UK and is a paediatric nurse who used to nurse in Ilford, so she knew where Southend-On-Sea is! Small world. She had spent the last six months in Australia travelling around it (that was why she had a tinge of accent and I initially thought she was an Aussie). We were joined by a lovely mad old lady from England – she was a roommate of Ruth’s. This is a little disingenuous as perhaps eccentric would be a better word.

We all waxed lyrical on the rampant scam which is the tipping culture in the States and roundly condemned it. We carried on chatting for another couple of hours before all heading off to our respective resting places.

D.C. - Day 2

Having had a lovely relaxing sleep I awoke recharged and ready to tackle The Smithsonian – well part of it at least.

I got up at 8:00 and headed for the shower, relishing the fact that I would get one without having to wait three hours. As it happened it took me about an hour to get in it because I was chatting to Stephen about his battles with The Red Tape of America – which would obviously be bigger redder and “tapier” than anywhere else in the world! He is trying to get a driver’s licence sorted out before his temporary tags expire on his car – he doesn’t seem too hopeful. In the USA the tags (or plates) stay with the driver as opposed to in the UK – or New Zealand – where they stay with the vehicle. After commiserating with him on his plight I had a shave and a shower and returned to the dorm. This was when I re-met Eric, a nice guy from Mexico City, as we had met in the shower earlier whilst I was talking to Stephen.

We were both heading for The Smithsonian so we agreed to walk there together. Eric was heading for the Natural History Museum and I was aiming for the Space and Flight Museum. We were chatting happily away and in sight of the Natural History Museum (The Smithsonian consists of several museums – all free to enter) when I suddenly had a thought that I had forgotten something and, on checking all my pockets, realised I had forgotten my wallet. Bugger! I apologised to Eric, wished him a good day and set off back to the hostel. Damn!
Having retrieved my wallet I then retraced my steps back to Pennsylvania Avenue.

The Smithsonian consists of about five (or maybe more) museums. One was shut for renovation, so that narrowed my choice a little, and I opted for the National Air & Space Museum.

When I got there, as one can imagine, I was in my element – that’s it for the day (until closing time). The place is vast, as it would have to be to house whole aircraft – and quite a few of them, so I was made up just walking through the door when I saw what was in the entrance gallery – the Apollo 11 Command Module! Either side of it were Mercury and Gemini capsules – all of these were enclosed in plastic cases which afforded an excellent view for the naked eye but was a bitch to try and photograph even with flash turned off as the interiors were not terribly well lit. Not all that surprising really seeing as how bloody small they were. I am sure any feeling of claustrophobia would be amply offset by the feeling of agoraphobia when looking out of the window into open space! I tried to imagine what it would be like to sit in (well be strapped into) a chair for a week and not being able to get up or move very much at all! At least the moon walkers got a chance to get out and stretch their legs for a while. Mind you when I got to see the suiting up procedure for the flight – let alone moon walking which was even more intense – I will never complain about specialist clothing again.

I could bore everyone with loads of details about what I saw but I will just give a few highlights and let you know I left when the museum closed.

There was an interesting exhibit on Space Ship One – the first privately produced space vehicle – which is effectively made of epoxy coated fabric and folds itself in half for re-entry! Ingenious. There was a section of moon rock mounted in a stand and one can touch it, so I can now say I have touched the moon with my own hands (as opposed to just in my dreams)! I was very thrilled anyway.

One of the star attractions they have is the original Wright Flyer; yes, that is the Wright brother’s plane which made the first flight. It had been recovered (part of the original covering was in a display case) and one of the propellers had been replaced (the original broken one was in a display case too – it broke when the plane crash landed after its flight) but the structure was all there and intact. Needless to say I was enthralled with it – we seem to have come a very long way in 100 years.

I have tried to keep the photo examples down to a minimum as I could have included pictures of; Skylab, Hubble Telescope, Breitling Orbiter 3, the Mars Lander, Voyager (the first aircraft to fly around the world without stopping or refuelling – designed by Burt Rutan who designed Space Ship One), and LM2.
LM2 is the Lunar Module used for drop testing on Earth, LM’s 3 & 4 where sent into orbit unmanned and used for docking & deployment practice and LM5 actually landed on the moon – so it obviously isn’t on display!

Also on display is a cutaway model of Skylab – the one they used underwater for training – which one can walk through and see just what it was like in the living quarters, including the space toilet and the space shower – very clever things in zero gravity!

If one likes, or is interested in, flight and space flight then this is a must visit place. If not stay away, although you won’t waste your money because all the Smithsonian museums are free to enter. The only thing I found disappointing about it was a McMurders (but I avoided it like the plague it is so I was alright).

I returned to the now dark streets of DC and it was only when I started walking down the road that I realised how much my feet ached.
I headed off for something to eat but did stop to get a rather good picture of the Washington Monument at sunset (even if I do say so myself).

When I got back to the hostel I ran into Eric and we exchanged observations on the Smithsonian. Well, I should say I found out what he was really going there for – I assumed to visit, but I was wrong – and that is measuring specimens of Mexican woodpeckers for his dissertation. Apparently the Smithsonian has the largest collection in the world, so where better to go? He was fascinated with my run down on the things I had seen and was really taken with some of my photographs. He put the Space & Flight Museum on his “must do” list before returning to Mexico City.

We both set off to check emails, etc. before turning in for the night. I had received another email from Masa, who is trying to readjust to life in Japan after “travelling and being free” as he put it. Hmmm, it stirred a few reservations in my mind too. I wonder how I will feel when/if I return to the UK. I put aside any further thought about that, I am not going to let it taint my experiences. I replied to his email and wished him well.

Having caught up with everything “Interweb” I went to bed. I wanted to be rested for the monument walking tour tomorrow.

D.C. - Day 1

It was grey and rainy today when I got up so I dedicated my morning to catching up on my blog entries. When I looked back I hadn’t finished a single one for New York so I had to put some effort in remembering exactly what I did.

As it was now afternoon I thought I had better have a proper wander around in daylight – somewhat curtailed by the thick overcast as it was. I set off down 11th Street and got to Pennsylvania Avenue. I am sure most of you have heard of this at one end lives an idiot warmongering arsehole that is very unpopular in this country, and at the other end a bunch of “bought and paid for” politicians. The last bit sounds a bit like home if the recent news stories are to be believed. (I am just secretly hoping some scumbag like McCarthy has made a donation to the “Pink Tories” in my name and I’ll get the money back. I could certainly put it to better use!)

I walked quickly past the FBI building (in case) and had a chuckle at the IRS (Internal Revenue Service) building as they were the only ones who could get Al Capone. I have to say that this area of DC does look very “classical” and rather like some of London – lots of Doric & Classical columns.

It started to rain with a vengeance whilst I was strolling up Pennsylvania Avenue so I thought I would go in search of somewhere to eat, as I hadn’t eaten anything so far and was hungry. (Very logical.)

I turned up E Street and lo and behold found the Hard Rock Cafe. In I went.

I have to say this is the quietest HRC I have been in. I suppose in fairness it was only 5:00 and probably hadn’t kicked off yet, however, it was also the sparsest populated with super hard rock goodies. It did have one of Alvin Lee’s guitars in it and a signed photograph of Lord John, but other than that no Holy Relics and not an awful lot that interested me. Never mind, the food was good and I left stuffed.

When I got back to the hostel I had a nasty headache so I decided to lie down and rest for a while. Needless to say I dropped off and when I woke up it was 7:30 and I had some new roommates. I have to compliment them on their thoughtfulness as they turned the light off as soon as they saw me lying on my bed and proceeded to sort out their stuff very quietly and leave the dorm – without slamming the door behind them. This was a marked improvement on the last place I stayed in New York.

I got up and proceeded to update some more of my blog entries – that is on my laptop, as I haven’t posted them yet – and ended up crawling into bed at 12:30.

I returned the compliment by not undoing and re-locking my locker three times and zipping and unzipping my bag at least as many times and made sure I didn’t crash into any of their beds – after all it doesn’t take much to be considerate. I gathered by the undisturbed snoring coming from one of them that I had succeeded in my mission and fell into a righteous sleep.

New York to Washington

Today started very much like yesterday – waiting for a shower. I gave up on that in exchange for breakfast at the diner round the corner. At least I would start off well fed and perhaps any smell I might generate might keep away the nutters on the bus. The other thing which annoyed me was that most people seemed to get up early and I didn’t get time to disturb or annoy them with my alarm clock. Damn!

I checked out of the hostel – can’t wait for the feedback request – and walked down the road to 96th Street Subway station. On the #2 express it is only two stops to Times Square/42nd Street and from there one can walk through to the Port Authority Bus Depot.

As I said before I had gone there the previous evening to make sure I had got the right place. However, yesterday I had entered from the street level and there was an electronic information board right inside the doors – there are lots of doors! This time I entered from the Subway station and realised the place was a fucking aircraft hanger with signs pointing to Gate 200 and beyond! Where the hell was I to start heading? As it was Sunday all the information booths were shut but I did manage to find one which had a disinterested attendant in it (a true New Yorker?) who looked up from her newspaper, briefly, said “Yeah” in a most unhelpful way and looked back to her newspaper. I put on my best behaved English accent (whatever that might be) and asked “Excuse me, I am travelling by Greyhound to DC. Can you tell me which gate I need to head for please?” I had also held my ticket up to the booth window. She looked up glanced at the ticket and said “Gate 27, straight on and down the stairs” and promptly returned to her newspaper. I couldn’t resist, I had to say “Thank you so much for your kind and attentive help ma’am. Have a nice day”. I think the sarcasm passed harmlessly over the roof of the booth, but I felt better at having got it in.

Needless to say, true to the sour bitch’s word straight on and down the escalator pointed to Gates 20-29, or 20-50 or something – all I knew was that 27 was in its range. Having found out I needed to execute a U-turn at the bottom of the escalator – this was due to a surge of panic at facing a dead end and gates numbered 20-25 – I then located Gate 27 with a huge queue emanating from it. I joined the queue and in true British fashion waited patiently and queued properly until I arrived at the gate.

The e-ticket worked and I trundled towards the indicated bus. I was greeted by a baggage loader who hefted my bag made some comment about a bad back, it being overweight and basically hinting for a tip for doing his job. I said “no problem mate” picked my bag up and loaded it into the luggage bay. As he started to protest I just turned my back on him and boarded the bus. The words of the Professor came back to me “One can tire of America” and I was certainly getting tired of everyone trying to extract American Dreams from me. One thing America is: capitalist, exploitative... oh sorry that’s two! Two things America is; capitalist, exploitative, commercial... oh that’s three things! Among the diverse things America is, are; capitalist, exploitative, commercial, shallow, green (Yankee Dollar colour), materialistic ...dare I go on?

The bus was full, and as soon as it was we left – some 15 minutes ahead of schedule. It was also an express, which means it doesn’t stop (well, until it gets to its destination) so I was quite pleased at that. I had my bottle of water, MP3 player and noise reducing headphones – I was set.

I started off quite well as I stayed awake until we cleared New York City proper. After that my broken and reduced sleep of the night before took over and I slept for most of the journey.
I did wake up in time to witness us crossing an elevated stretch of highway over a large expanse of water. I realised I hadn’t slept long enough for us to have reached Key West but had no idea where I was – I left that to the bus driver.

I believe I must have nodded off again because when I next awoke I saw a sign saying Washington DC 25. Well it looked like the journey might pass off painlessly.

It did – and the baggage guy in New York had left my bag on the bus!

I headed out of the door with the sign pointing me towards the Metro station and hit the streets. Union Station is just down the road from the Greyhound station and a very helpful attendant instructed me in how to buy my ticket from the machine and which platform I needed for the train to Metro Center.

Having got to Metro Center I had no problem in finding my way to the hostel as DC uses a similar grid system to New York; Streets 1-whatever, bisected by streets A-whatever.

I got checked in, found my dorm and encountered Stephen one of my roommates. Stephen is a Kiwi who has recently got a job in Virginia – literally just down the road – and is staying in the hostel until he can find somewhere to live. [Note Washington DC is its own area and is not part of Virginia or Maryland.] He had spent five years working in the UK and then applied for a job here, not really expecting to be successful – but he was. Anyway we chatted for about 45 minutes about all sorts of things before he had to catch up with someone who was helping him sort out his social security card.

I headed for the shower and was able to walk straight into one! Hooray! Feeling much cleaner and much refreshed I got into my last clean shirt and trousers and headed for the laundry.

Having completed all my laundry I then headed out for something to eat. I thought I would head for Chinatown as it was only about six blocks away – so I did. This was more like it a large Chinese style gateway over the road – I will get a picture of it in daylight – and loads of restaurants & shops the other side of it.

I picked a Chinese restaurant and went in.

I had a lovely meal, but, as I had opted for a starter (spare ribs get me every time) I couldn’t finish it all. This is no problem because any restaurant or diner will always put it in a “take out” bag. That was another meal sorted out for me and I could even heat it up in the hostel’s radiation oven.

Satisfied and full I had a gentle stroll beck to the hostel, stashed my goodie bag in the fridge and headed for bed.

I fell asleep almost immediately and was not woken up by anyone or anything!

New York - Day 6

My last full day in New York. Oh well, it will be an unwashed one unless I want to wait until 11:00 to get in the bathroom! The set up with this dorm is quite ridiculous and now I have seen it in action – it did conform to my suspicions.

I went to the diner just round the corner and had a lovely breakfast.

I returned to the dorm to see how bathroom access was going. I reckon my estimate of 11:00 was about right. I couldn’t afford to waste any more of my day so I headed back out again. I’ll have a shower when I get back.

I had a short walk down the road to the Subway station and caught the red line #2 express downtown. I got off at 34th/Penn Station. This gave me an opportunity to walk through Pennsylvania Station – which as one might have guessed, is huge. My intended destination was Madison Square Garden or “The Garden” as it is known in the vernacular. This is the scene of many famous gigs and events but none more so in my eyes than the Rock Gods themselves – Led Zeppelin. Unfortunately I could not complete my pilgrimage properly because the “Access All Areas” tour was not running due to the New York Knicks home game that day. (They are the local basketball team if anyone’s interested.) The ticket office – well ticket concourse, as there are about a hundred ticket offices – was jammed with people queuing, milling about or just gazing about (like me).

I got a coffee and then headed back onto the Subway where I took the #1 local service to Rector Street.

I made the short walk to Battery Park with the intention of getting to the Statue of Liberty. That plan made a rapid exit when I saw the queue was the same length as yesterday. (I have to admit I did not check to see if the same people were still in it!) Oh well, it looks like Lady Liberty will have to make do without a visit from me this time.

I decided I had better at least see the UN building before I left New York, so I decided to walk there. I have made several mistakes on my journey so far, and this was another one. I did not realise how bloody far it was from Battery Park to United Nations Plaza. I walked the length of Park Avenue South and turned off into East 42nd Street before it became just Park Avenue. It is only three blocks down 42nd Street but by this time my feet knew every one of them.
Nevertheless I got to the UN Headquarters and joined the queue to get in. As I was here I thought I’d better take the tour. I also had to get a picture of the sculpture outside as I liked it.

After clearing security screening I entered the building proper and got a ticket for the next tour. I took the opportunity to have a look around and then sat down to wait the rest of the time. In looking around I viewed the paintings on display for the International Children’s Painting Competition and was most pleased to see that the winner was 11 year old Charlotte Sullivan – it made me quite proud to be British.

The tour was most interesting and took us through all the chambers of the UN. I have included a photograph of the Security Council Chamber – you can all speculate on why – because it also gives a superb example of a total prick! The cretin in the light jacket with the baseball hat was a prime example of “photographus spasticus”. Every room we went in and every point we stopped at for the guide to explain something this dork had to be photographed in front of it. The reason I found the bastard so annoying was that we usually had to wait for him to catch up because the little turd was being photographed in front of everything which remained still long enough.

At the conclusion of the tour I returned to the streets, which were now dark and cold. I made my way back to 96th Street station and hit the diner for some food.

Nicely full and warm I returned to the dorm and found it blissfully empty. I had a refreshing luke-warm shower, sorted out everything I would need for tomorrow with a contingency that I might or might not get a wash, put my MP3 player on to charge (I would need it for the bus) and crawled into bed.

Tonight and tomorrow morning was almost an exact copy of last night and this morning, but with the addition of two more Spanish speaking blokes who rattled and banged locker doors several times and a Japanese girl who was occupying the bunk above me and appeared to go through a short Olympic trampoline winning routine before settling down to sleep.

I thanked the deities that this was my last night here, ensured that my alarm was set (I would let it go off for quite a while before stopping it I thought) and settled down to get as much sleep as I might be allowed.

New York - Day 5

I have to change hostels today as the one I’m in is full up and I couldn’t extend my stay. I had already made contingencies for this and had booked two nights at Jazz on the City which is only eight blocks up the street.

I got there easily and dropped off my bags so I could travel light – sorry that should be travel – lite. (Yes I am taking the piss.) Check-in time wasn’t until 15:00 and I wasn’t going to waste my day waiting around, so I completed all the check-in formalities and headed downtown.

I tried the Museum of Modern Art again as Fridays it has free admission. This was another major mistake as the people joining the queue – like me – were being told there was a two to three hour wait for admission. OK, I will try again later. In the meantime I headed up the street for the Rockefeller Center.

Having got there I thought I would do “The Top of the Rock” as the trip to the observation deck is called. I remembered that my “Smartsave Map” I had picked up from the hostel entitled me to a 20% discount – so I used it.

There is a little introductory film before taking the elevator (told you I’m learning the language) up to the observation deck. The lift is quite fun because the ceiling is actually clear, but when one gets into it the lights are on and it looks opaque. When the lift starts its ascent the lights in the ceiling go off – there are lights in the walls so it isn’t completely dark – and one can see all the way up the lift shaft – which has lovely electric blue lights all the way up it at every floor. The effect is quite stunning as one shoots up this shaft past all these lights towards the red ones at the very top.

The observation deck itself is actually on three levels and all of them are exposed to the elements – wish I’d brought my gloves with me! The views are awesome, and Central Park in all its fall glory looked rather superb – I have included a picture of it.

Having wandered around every level several times and got my hands very cold, I returned to the shelter of the lower level and looked at the crystal displays they have there. They were done by the same people who fashioned the huge chandelier in the main entrance way – that is something to see in itself. I haven’t included a photo of it because I could not get a good enough angle on it to do it justice or to encompass enough of it to give a proper impression of just how huge it is – about six metres in length!

After getting to the top of the rock and back down again I decided to check on the state of admission to MOMA. It was the same so I headed out down Sixth Avenue. Boy, have I made a mistake. Today, being the day after Thanksgiving is the traditional day of shopping. The streets were crammed with people going in every direction. The queue for Radio City tailed round the corner and half-way up West 58th Street! As I fought my way down the road – actually that is a little misleading as I didn’t fight. I found the easy way to cross streets – just stand behind some big fat lump heading in the same direction and follow in their wake! If one could slow down enough to match the forward speed of the waddling lard bucket then it was pretty plain sailing. (How many metaphors would you like mixed people?)

As it was cold and I had ingested a few coffees during the morning I was in need of a pee. (The reason I give this much information is that “rest rooms”, as toilets are called here, are not easy to find unless one wants to buy something and public ones are like rocking horse poo.) I did however have a brainwave, especially as it came into view in all its bedecked humbug glory – I would go into Macys. Being a large department store (I’m sure everyone’s heard of them) they would be bound to have some.

If I believed in the children’s stories of going to heaven or hell after death then this would be my hell! Total purgatory! The place was full of brainless morons just wandering about like friendly fire rockets with no guidance systems! It was packed out and must have violated the fire and safety regulations of even the Indians flocking to the Ganges. It was a lesson in the insanity of sad people dangled the carrot of saving an American Dream on something already stupidly overpriced and then reduced to a semi-sensible price – a study in gullibility if ever there was one.

Anyway I managed to fight (almost literally) my way to the seventh floor, by use of the escalators, in order to reach “the men’s room” – for which I had to queue! The “women’s rooms” queues were the cause of several blockages in aisles.

On my egress I then had to face the daunting task of trying to get out of this melee. I stopped on level five and got some Ben & Jerry’s ice cream because; it is nice, and I could sit down and eat it. This was a great spot for some people watching. I watched gaggles of females struggling through the crowd with bags bulging from their sides. I saw a similar number with bulging sides and bags in their hands. I saw vain idiot males checking their reflection in every reflective surface (most of these seemed to be Latinos – I don’t know why) to make sure they still looked like well groomed pimps or homosexuals “on the pull”. If one can bastardise a Sherlock Holmes story title – A Study in Vacuous!
Having finished my ice cream I bit the bullet (obviously not literally as I would have used the bullet to slaughter as many people as I could with one shot) and headed for the exit. I didn’t even attempt the elevators – there were four of them and a large queue of bag laden cattle in front of each – I stuck with the escalators as these at least moved. As I approached the ground floor I wish in hindsight that I had taken a photograph of the crowd below. I have to complement the staff on their crowd control methods – I would have resorted to tear gas and live ammunition long ago – which were very good. The centre aisle was for incoming only and they had set up a set of barriers to channel people onto escalators. The side aisles were for exit only. Like a trapped wild animal sensing freedom I made for the exit!

As Macys is situated at the junction of Broadway and Sixth I thought I would head up Broadway to Times Square – in for a cent in for a thousand dollars – and get a Subway back to freedom, well the hostel at least. As I was hungry now I decided to go into Planet Hollywood on Times Square. I hadn’t been in one of these places before so I thought I would have a look. It was full of movie memorabilia, some of which actually interested me. The other thing I found wonderful about it was that it was only half full and I had plenty of room to move about and getting a table to myself with no one (or no two hundred) to crowd me was a wonderful bonus. I ate well and emerged full and ready for a sit down.

I got to the hostel and checked in. My first impressions were unimpressive as I was on the fourth floor and had to heft my luggage up some steep and narrow stairs (no lift in this place). I got to my dorm and had further suspicions. It was a twelve bedded dorm with “en suite” which may sound good on paper but is shite in practice, especially in this case. The “en suite” consisted of one toilet and one bath/shower in the same room. This was fine whilst no one else was around but I wondered what it might be like when the place was full up.

I stowed my stuff, made up my bed, had a shower (no hot water) and went up to the lounge. My misgivings about this place got another boost when I saw the lounge. It contained four PCs on desks, for Internet access, a large plasma screen TV on the wall, about four bar tables and if ten people were in it it was full – there were and it was! Thoughts of sitting down and reading my book went straight out of the window as the TV was on, the PCs were in use (all of them) people were sitting about talking (loudly because they had to overcome the drivel from the TV) and all the chairs were taken. I surveyed the scene, executed a perfect U turn and returned to my dorm. I lay on my bed and listened to some sounds until I dropped off.

I was awoken a few hours later by the arrival of two couples jabbering in Spanish and crashing about with their luggage. Oh double bugger, it is a mixed dorm. This in itself doesn’t bother me at all, it was the thought of one bathroom and women taking three times as long as even the most effeminate ponce bloke in the bathroom.

I decided not to worry about it, got undressed and into bed properly and went to sleep.

I was awoken about 2:30 by a bunch of drunken Dutchmen who proceeded to stagger about, laugh, giggle and talk in loud voices. They eventually settled down after a while.

I was awoken at 4:00 by the Spanish speaking couples who came in speaking Spanish – loudly – and then proceeded to go through all their bags and then spend about half an hour wishing each other good night. I was just beginning to give serious thought as to how I might murder them all silently when they got to sleep (I had two pillows and I could probably use my belt as a garrotte – the blade on my multi-tool was long enough to sever a major artery but that would be messy – but the wire on one of my chargers would probably be better as it was much thinner and made of copper wire...) but they did eventually settle down and I fell asleep again before I could become a murderer.

We shall see what the morning brings – well later on this morning...

New York - Day 4

Happy Thanksgiving to you all.

Yes today is Thanksgiving Day when New York goes quiet for a morning whilst the Thanksgiving Parade takes place.

I made my way down to the parade – well part of it, down by Central Park West. I didn’t get to see much of the parade at all – apart from the balloons in the air, some of the people on the floats and the odd glimpse of something between a sea of heads and children perched on parents shoulders.

After I had enough of trying to peer through a wall of people twenty to thirty deep; I donned my MP3 player, selected that superb album New York by Lou Reed and headed for Battery Park. I had this notion of seeing the Statue of Bigotry (thanks Lou) on Thanksgiving Day.

I got the Subway to Rector Street and walked down Wall Street and Broadway to the park. As soon as I got there I realised my mistake – the world, its wife, brother, cousins, and illegitimate children had all got the same idea! The queue stretched from the ticket booths in Clinton Castle to the entrance to the park and according to the staff keeping the line orderly (it didn’t take any effort) there was a two to three hour wait for anyone joining the queue. I decided to pass on this and had a stroll around the park instead. There were plenty of American Dreams being made today by the vendors and people dressed as Liberty! I viewed “The Sphere” – a sculpture by Fritz Koenig which stood in the plaza outside the World Trade Center – and the eternal flame. It was rather battered, as you can see from the photograph and made quite a poignant reminder.
I thought I would go and view the remains of what used to be the World Trade Center as it was just up the road – West Street to be precise. I will not moralise on the destruction of the WTC, I have opinions on it, like everyone else, and it was a tragic loss of life. I just get very annoyed when “the average American” believes they are the only ones this has happened to and adopt an air of righteous indignation. To put it in perspective; thanks to their great McMurders corporation donation to NorAid the people of London, Birmingham, Manchester, Liverpool and Brighton could all feel the same.

The WTC site is basically a building site surrounded by high fencing and smelling of concrete with not a lot to see apart from the cranes sticking out of it. I refrained from poking my camera through any of the gaps in the shroud on the grounds of good taste and respect for the dead. I couldn’t help wondering about the lack of damage or devastation to the surrounding high-rise buildings though, either that or the repair work was indistinguishable from the original.
I walked around the perimeter of the site and then moved on.

I wandered over to City Hall, around it and viewed the approach to the Brooklyn Bridge. This was an amazing clumsy waltz of traffic negotiating its way onto and off the bridge. I was quite mesmerised by the volume of traffic constantly flowing over it – like metal water.

From here I then walked up to Chinatown – this one was very different from Seattle – which was just thronged with oriental people – I won’t say just Chinese as there were Korean, Vietnamese, Thai, Japanese, Cambodian, Hong Kong (some still feel it is independent from China, obviously) and some places just labelled with pictograms and no English on them – so I have no idea what they are.

After this I headed for Little Italy and then through to Greenwich Village. This sacred site has long since been desecrated as Cafe Wah has been pulled down and built on. I had to go there anyway.

I got to Washington Square and by this time my feet were telling me to stop using them. I found the nearest Subway and got the A train uptown to 42nd Street where I changed onto a #1 train to 103rd Street. I chose the local #1 train over the express #2 and changing again because the local train is less full and I could get a seat – my feet thanked me for that decision.

I grabbed some food at the diner over the road from the hostel and then crossed the road and removed my shoes! Aaah, blessed relief.

I had a chat with Rich and an Aussie guy who was on the tour yesterday. He had managed to see more of the parade than I did because; he got there earlier, and is much taller than I am! However, he said he didn’t get a very good view as it was packed and also encountered the children on shoulders problem – we both agreed it would have been churlish to either request their removal or just push them off their parent’s shoulders.

After writing up some of this I then limped off to bed in order to leave my legs straight for a few hours.

New York - Day 3

I had signed up for two guided tours from the hostel today.

The first covered historic Harlem with our guide Ed. It was most informative and very interesting. We took the subway uptown to 125th Street and then walked from there.
I didn’t take terribly much notice of the street names, so you’ll have to forgive me for not listing them all – it would probably be rather boring anyway – but we got to Sugar Hill and viewed the difference between the Dutch style and English style town houses. Basically the Dutch style have high stoops – because they always had flooding in mind, wherever they were – and the English style did not. Sugar Hill got its name from the fact that a lot of moneyed people lived on it – “there be a lot of sugar on that hill” – and the same is true today as New York prices are just like London prices, ludicrously high. We walked up to Hamilton Heights – where Alexander Hamilton lived (although the house has been moved once and will be moved again soon) – and along Edgecombe Avenue – where Duke Ellington lived. (“...take the A train to Sugar Hill” – sound familiar?) In a side road off of Edgecombe is a lovely dead-end street where all the original workers houses have been restored to their former glory and declared a heritage site. I have included a picture as it looked so quaint.

We continued up to University Heights which officially took us into The Bronx. The university seemed to have been modelled on a cross between the Tower of London and the spires of Oxford; it was quite impressive to see this spring out of New York, but then New York is full of surprises.
It was at this time that Ed gave us the option to either go off exploring or return to the hostel with him. We all opted to return to the hostel as most of us were going on the tour this afternoon.

The next guided tour was to Staten Island with our guide Don. This was also great fun as there were twenty-six people on the tour from nine different countries. We got the Subway #1 train to Columbus Circus, changed to the A train to Fulton Street, changed to the #4 train to Bowling Green and then walked to the Staten Island Ferry Terminal. This is a nice big shiny modern building with easy access for the passengers it carries – about 70,000 a day – and it is free.
We sailed out of the dock and had some wonderful views of the Manhattan skyline. Our journey took us across the Hudson River past Ellis Island – home of the Statue of Liberty – and over The Narrows to Staten Island.

When we got to the island Larry had arranged for us to all have pizza at a little pizza house up the hill from the ferry terminal. This was very nice of him as it didn’t cost us anything, unless one wanted drinks. We all relaxed and had a chat over pizza and then set off for the Staten Island Memorial. This is the only permanent memorial to the people who lived on the island and died in the destruction of the World Trade Center. As one can see from the picture it is shaped like two wings and faces the point where the twin towers were visible. On each of the sides are a list of all the Staten Islanders who perished along with a profile of them and a brief list of details. I thought it was a very subtle memorial.

We returned to the ferry terminal and having disembarked the other side we got a Subway to Times Square. I got another fix of it and it was interesting to watch the people who hadn’t been there before. From there Larry gave us the option to go and explore or return to the hostel with him. I opted for returning to the hostel.

Upon my return I was greeted by one of my roommates, another Brit, Rich from Gloucester. We had a chat about all sorts of things and exchanged views and observations on New York and USA.

After we had finished our long chat I went off in search of food and then settled down to write up some more of this. I got a reasonably early night as I want to get up earlyish to go and have a look at the Thanksgiving Parade.