Day Twenty-Eight: A Lovely Drive, Welcome to Las Vegas, And The Strip At Night

Although the sleep was highly uncomfortable, I did manage to get a few hours of shut-eye before my bus to Las Vegas. For the first few hours of the journey I tried to catch up with some more sleep as the landscape was a little boring. Later on in the afternoon, we had a short 30 mile burst across the north-western corner of Arizona. As soon as we entered, the landscape changed dramatically. Huge dusty mountains with sheer cliff faces, and small canyons with winding rivers overtook the landscape. Whilst everyone else in the bus continued sleeping or talking, I was frantically taking photographs out of the windows (you can see these on Facebook) as it was one of the most beautiful landscapes I had ever seen. As soon as we crossed the border into Nevada, the scenery dulled down as dramatically as it had appeared.

After another hour or so on the bus, we pulled into Sin City. My hostel was perfectly located on Las Vegas Boulevard (The Strip), only a couple of miles from the main action. It was a lot different from the other hostels I had been in, as rather than being one central building, it was more like a series of separate chalets surrounded by a wall. Although perhaps not as aesthetically pleasing as previous hostels, the room rate was ridiculously cheap and the staff were superb.

Not wanting to miss out on any nightlife action, I purchased copious amounts of cheap beer and got ready for a hostel-organised pub crawl to The Strip that evening. It was here that the quality of the hostel came to the fore. Everyone staying in Vegas were there to go out to party and gamble, meaning that everyone went out every night, and all in the same hostel organised group. Straight away I was able to make many new acquaintances.

The first place we visited was a plush bar a couple of blacks away from The Strip. It was definitely classier and wealthier than any bar I had been in before. Our hostel guide Chandler had managed to get us BOGOF drinks deals at the bar, so I ordered two double vodka Cokes. The barmaid on the other hand thought I would prefer to have one quadruple shotted drink. So small was the amount of Coke in the drink, it still looked colourless. Lets just say that it was not appreciated and was not pleasant in the slightest.

The final stop on our night-out was to go to the club on the 64th floor of the Mandalay Bay hotel. Once inside I was fairly impressed as it was very classy but I failed to see why it was meant to be such a special place. I found out why that was the case however when I went around the corner and out onto the balcony. Below me was the entire of Vegas shining brightly. This made an immediate improvement. After many photos and a few more drinks, we got back to the hostel late (early) in the evening (morning).

Day Twenty-Seven: Amtrak, The Real Rockies, And An Uncomfortable Night

As I hadn't made it into the mountains during my days in Denver, I decided to alter my plans a little bit. Rather than travelling directly to Las Vegas by Greyhound, I was going to take the train up to Salt Lake City, and get the bus from there.  This was because I had read that this portion of railway wound slowly through the mountains and it was very picturesque. As the ticket only cost $75 I counted it as a small tour in itself.

I made it to the train with a little difficulty, as trains were departing from a temporary station as Union station (the main one in Denver) was having major rebuilding work. The train itself was worth the wait however. I had a huge seat with masses of leg room and some excellent reclining features. Nothing like what is on offer in the U.K. This may however be due part to the fact that the train travels from Chicago to San Francisco over 4 days so luxury is necessary.  The best part of the train though were the large observation carriages, offering large wall and ceiling windows, enabling you to take in the beauty of the journey.

The trip itself was as beautiful as they say. We spent hours winding slowly through mountain passes, over bridges, crossing rivers, under tunnels, and around woodland. I took many photos, which I have put on Facebook in the Colorado section.

After about 10 hours of this, we crossed over into Utah in which the scenery changed to a more dusty and earthy landscape, though still gorgeous. Eventually, after 15 hours in total on the train, we arrived at Salt Lake City station. Unfortunately, my greyhound to Vegas was not for another 10 hours meaning I had to spend the night at the Greyhound terminal. There wasn't even a chance to go to a bar and wait because... you know... It's Utah... Church of the Latter Day Saints and all that stuff. I did manage to get some sleep but it was a pretty uncomfortable night sleeping on a concrete floor with the lights on brightly and nothing for a blanket.

Day Twenty-Six: Capitol, Court, And The Rockies

As the Capitol building had been closed on the weekend, and it was so close to the hostel, I thought that i can't really not go inside.  Although it was a nice building, again similar to the Capitol in Washington, it lacked the size, interest, and importance of its original. The tour was interesting and I learned a fair bit about Coloradan politics, but that's because there was not much to learn.  Probably the most interstitial part was the visit to the old Supreme Court building inside the Capitol that had been the site of many controversial state laws, including the legalisation of same-sex marriages and the decrimilisation of marijuana.

After the tour finished, I went across the road to the new home of the Supreme Court and the local federal district courts. The whole building was completely empty and I had no idea whether I could go in to any of the court rooms. As no one stopped me, I did step inside one but I felt very out of place and after taking a quick photo, I hastily retreated.

I then moved through the city, visiting a few places I had not already got the chance to see. It was on this mini adventure, that I saw perhaps my favourite ever piece of modern sculpture art- The Big Blue Bear. This is pretty much the perfect description. It's a bear, that's blue, and 40ft high, looking into the Denver Convention Centre. Wonderful. Search for it on Google, you won't be disappointed, I promise.

As I had pretty much seen every film at the cinema, I thought it would be a great opportunity to go and see some Baseball. I got some great seats, on the 3rd storey, behind home plate to see the Colorado Rockies play the Arizona Diamondbacks. The game started very well for the Rockies, moving out to a 4-0 lead in the 7th innings, with the 'backs only getting one hitter. The 8th was a different matter however. After some shocking pitching, the scores were tied at 4-4. Luckily for the Rockies, the struck Arizona out while the bases were loaded. The game eventually went into overtime and after a scoreless innings by Arizona, and them deliberately walking the best Rockies hitter, a wonderful double led the Rockies to an enthralling victory. I was becoming good luck for the home team, with 2 wins in 2 baseball outings.

After some dinner, I headed back to the hostel as I had an early train to catch the next day.

Day Twenty-Five: Art, Michelangelo, And Mud

Just down the road from the hostel was the Denver art museum which I paid a visit to to try and get a little more culture. The gallery itself was very large, consisting of a four-story building connecting to a seven-story one. Although the gallery as a whole was not my complete cup of tea, there was a few very good sections. The English art exhibit included the very famous painting of Edward VI as a child (the one that whenever a history programme talks about him, they show).  The other piece I loved was an interactive one, in which you got to walk and play about in. It was essentially a bouncy castle but with bean bags instead of air. You could easily fall asleep in there as anywhere you fell became a comfy bed. After seeing some more great Asian art, I left the museum and headed back to my favourite haunt- 16th street. 

I managed a Skype chat with my parents and grandparents using the wifi in Starbucks, but it is what happened next which was the most exciting part. I was sitting listening to my NFL podcasts, when I turned around to see standing near me, 4 cops carrying a variety of weapons including an M4 Carbine, and a SPAZ assault shotgun. They confront a man sitting a few chairs away and arrest him. One of the officers goes to the guys jacket and pulls out a 5ft rusty steel sword. I didn't break sweat and just carried on listening to the podcast, knowing that if the guy did try anything, I would have just legged it through the exit next to me. Only in America I guess.

After the little excitement I headed down the road to what I thought was a Da Vinci museum. Although this turned out to be incorrect, what was there instead was probably even more interesting- it was the first day of a new Michelangelo exhibit. Inside the large warehouse were a number of sculptures by the great man.  What was special about these sculptures were that they were the official moulds made by the Florentine University which had until this point, never left Italy. They were identical copies of the original works, something that people normally have to travel to Florence and queue for hours to see. The first sculpture I saw was the first Pieta. Quite simply, it was the most impressive piece of art I have ever seen first-hand. The sculpture was so real that reality looked fake. It was beyond belief. I just stood there for about 20 minutes just looking at that one piece. If not quite as impressive, the other sculptures were also exceptional. There was also a chance to see some copies of his most famous paintings, including the Sistine Chapel. Despite his famous quote (along the lines of) "If you saw how much work I put in, you would not call it genius," if the world ever sees an artistic talent like his again soon, I would be very surprised.

I also managed to make a quick visit to one of the US Mints, where they print the paper money for much of America. I even got a souvenir of hundreds of shredded dollars in a bag.

Because I was again alone in the evening I decided to catch another movie- this time 'Mud', the story of two Arkansas boys helping out a runaway murderer, played by Matthew McConaughey.  It was an excellent, excellent film. The acting superb and the characters compelling. Its films like this that make me sorry that Matthew devoted a lot of his career to high-budget, low-quality films. I definitely advise you to go see it whilst you can.

Day Twenty-Four: A Close Shave, Denver, And Colorado History

We stopped for breakfast in the gorgeous Raton, New Mexico, high on the plains with hills and mountains in the distance. But I will remember Raton for a different reason. We were having a 30 minute rest-stop at a McDonald's to have breakfast. The queue was pretty long so it took a while to get served. Rather than go straight back to the coach I thought I would go to the end of the car park and have a look at the scenery. After about 5 mins my heart stopped. The bus was setting off without me. I threw down my coffee and sprinted after it. Luckily for me, rather than pulling straight away, the coach had to make a turn so it could leave the same way it cut in. I ran to head the coach off at the exit, arriving just in time and desperately flagging it down. I got on much to the amusement of my fellow passengers. If the bus didn't have to turn around, or I had not been looking, my bag with all my belongings would have left without me at 6am in the morning, still with another 6 hours of journey to go. Whenever I think about it now, I still feel physically sick. I would have really been in deep deep shit.

The ride through Colorado was extraordinary, passing valleys, rivers and mountains (and the Denver Broncos Stadium!). We eventually made it to Denver after 21 hours on the bus, and I walked down to my hostel on 11th Avenue. The city itself is beautiful, combining a number of skyscrapers with lots of restaurants and bars and public parks. To the West you can see the beginning of the Rockies, and the city is already situated at exactly one-mile above sea-level. Part of the reason I wanted to go to Denver was that: one, its perfect location next to the mountains; two, the writings of Jack Kerouac and his love of the city; and three, South Park is in Colorado (kind of).

The hostel was very nice and spacious although this also counted against it in some ways. It was set up almost like a hotel, so many of the guests staying there were far older than I. It lacked the atmosphere of the other hostels I had been at where it was easy to meet people and make friends. As such, I have spent all the time in Denver on my lonesome.  After a much needed shower I headed just 2 blocks up the street to the Colorado History Museum. Inside was a great exhibition on Jefferson's Bible, in which he cut and pasted what he thought were the important morals and lessons of Jesus. The rest of the museum focused on the establishment of the state, originally as a gold mining area,  Coloradans relationships with the Native Americans (nearly always negative) and then it's development into what it is today (winter sports featuring prominently).

With most of the museums closed, I went to the cinema and watched the new Star-Trek film. It was quite interesting although the sci-fi/action films are not really my cup of tea. Visually it was impressive but the ending (one bit in particular) bordered on film heresy. And anyway, I wanted Benedict Cumberbatch to be victorious. I grabbed a Philly Cheesesteak, went back to the hostel and watched a little TV before heading to bed.

Day Twenty-Three: Starbucks, Goodbye Texas, And A Long Greyhound Journey

Today was very unexciting as it was mostly spent travelling. I checked out of the hostel and spent a couple of hours in Starbucks, waiting for my departure time that afternoon. Although this wasn't too exciting, I did manage to get a few blog posts done, and I had a Skype chat with my family.

When the time came to leave, I got a bus uptown to the Greyhound station from where I left on my journey to Denver, Colorado. This was my worst journey so far on they Greyhound as all the seats were taken meaning I had very little legroom. We made stops in Dallas and Amarillo before eventually leaving Texas and crossing over into New Mexico where I eventually got some sleep.

Day Twenty-Two: Barton Springs, The Great Gatsby, And A Night in Austin

I said my goodbyes to Tim who was leaving for Las Vegas and decided to head down to Barton Springs, a natural spring outside of town. Looking at the map, the distance didn't seem to long so I didn't bother with public transport. Mistake. It was at least 35* and a good hours walk. At least the walk was picturesque, walking along Ladybird lake and passed the Congress Bridge underneath which millions of bats live. It is one thing I have noticed about America, that there is a lot more park space owing to the sheer size of the country. When I eventually did make it to the spring, several pounds lighter due to water loss, I was slightly disappointed. This was probably not entirely due to the spring, as it was pretty enough, but due to the fact that I didn't have any swimming trunks or towel. It probably would have been a good cure for my grumpiness.

I walked (I clearly hadn't learned my lesson) back towards town but I stopped off for lunch in the Shady Grove restaurant, recommended to me by Tim. I sat on a table directly facing the industrial-sized air conditioners and ordered a large ice-tea. The waitress told me it was the coldest table in the restaurant and that I could move if I wanted. I didn't. It wasn't cold enough. For my delicate rose skin, anything over 20* is unacceptable. I wouldn't be lying if I said i was either verbally or mentally complaining about the heat every 20 seconds for 2 weeks. To eat I ordered the days special, a chicken, bacon, avocado, salad and olive tapenade sandwich. When it comes to food in America, I have the same thought process. My favourite food are burgers so I always look towards ordering them, but then my traveller self says I should try different things, be adventurous, eat local food. However, I then think to myself, I am a connoisseur of burgers, what happens if this is the best burger in the world and I miss it! I never would forgive myself. So in always order the burger. And by god, was it worth it. I won't forget that one in a hurry.

After all the walking, I felt fairly tired so I decided to mentally relax a little, and I went to the cinema and caught a 3-D screening of The Great Gatsby. Overall I thought it was a good film, well worth a watch. The acting, particularly Leo and the stunning Carey Mulligan was outstanding. I did however feel that the party scenes were too extravagant, which made it more of a film about the visual, rather than the content. I do have to admit that it is a long time since I have read the book but I feel that the character development was lacking (although to be fair, that is hard to achieve in a medium as short as film). Despite this I did enjoy it and I look forward to reading the book again as soon as I have finished 'The Brothers Karamazov' by Fyodor Dostoevsky (if its anything like 'Crime and Punishment', one of my favourite books, I don't think I will be disappointed).

In the evening the hostel had organised a bar-crawl which I thought would be perfect to tag along to as I could meet more people from the hostel as well as getting the low-down of the best places to drink in Austin. In all there were about 12 of us, a mix of many nationalities (English, Australian, Danish, German, Turkish, Argentinian, and American). Over the course of the night I got chatting to a lot of them. Special mention to Erasmus, a Dane, for our conversations on tennis; Alistair, a Brit, for our mutual drink-buying (I had met him in New Orleans originally); and Charlie, another Brit, for her talks on ship-selling (and her looks). After some drinking and a few games of table-tennis we headed to a '60s club for some dancing to the Beatles. I tried to get the DJ to play some Velvet-Underground bunt apparently this isn't good dance music. I was angry at the time, but he was probably right. Eventually we ended up a bar called the 'White Horse' to listen to 'The Best Country Band In Texas'. After convincing a Texan girl to give me some dancing lessons (in which I thoroughly embarrassed not only myself, but the whole nation) I headed back to the hostel.

Day Twenty-One: Texas Politics, Texas History, And A Night Of Basketball

It was decided that today would be our tourist day. Tim and I set out to see many of the important sites in Austin, including the Texas Capitol building, the Texas State History Museum and the University of Texas campus uptown.

Our first stop was the Texas Capitol which was just a few blocks away from the hostel...

In design it is very similar to that of the Washington Capitol building except smaller by size, as there are far more Senators and Representatives in Washington than Austin.  Although the building is smaller the Texans don't like to second best, so they made sure that it is the biggest state capitol building, and that it is 13ft higher than the one in Washington.  Before heading into the building, we walked around the park outside taking in the beautiful (though hot) weather and a number of statues.  Most worryingly of all was the main monument in front of the capitol- what else but a memorial to the defeat of the Confederacy, complete with a huge statue of Jefferson Davis on top.  Call me hypersensitive but a monument to a 'state' that defined itself on its adherence to slavery is slightly distasteful.

The first stop on the tour of the building were a statue and painting depicting Sam Houston (one of the founders of Texas as a nation, and then a state) and his victory over the Mexican armies led by Santa Anna.  In the centre of the building, directly below the dome, was a wonderful mosaic showing the crests of those nations to which Texas drew lineage from: Spain, France, Mexico, Republic of Texas, and the United States of America.  On the walls around these mosaics were portraits of former governors, and yes, I did pose for a picture beside my hero, George W. Bush...

The inside of the building was very grand and filled with paintings and statues, marble and granite arches, all in the Greek style.  We were very fortunate, in that while we were visiting, both houses were in session, and we got to sit in for a few minutes whilst amendments and laws were being discussed (I can't be 100% sure but I think the bill being debated was on the compulsory issuing of grenade-launchers to the under 10s). As well as seeing the legislative branch, in the same building was the Texas Supreme Court, and the Governors office meaning that we got a good view of all things politics in Texas.

After braving the 200m walk down the street, we made it (drenched in sweat) to the Bob Bullock Museum of Texas History.  This museum held a special interest for me as although I have studied American history quite extensively, I have never researched the Westward expansions or the formation of Texas.  The museum was split into three sections- pre-Republic history; the fight for independence and the subsequent joining of the USA; and modern Texas.  As the State is so huge, and its population so large and diverse, it made for an interesting visit, discovering it's history and culture.  Before we left we even managed to watch an I-Max movie on 'Discovering Texas' heavily featuring the long horn cow, and rodeos!  As we were right next to the UT campus we decided to check it out. It was incredible, a town in itself. Even the smallest building, dedicated to the smallest subject, was larger than the entire library at York.  From only a brief tour you could see the difference that funding makes to American colleges (I am actually very surprised that British universities can still compete).  Most impressive of all was the college stadium- a mere 90,000 capacity (larger than Wembley).  This was a great example of how popular college sport is in America, often more than the professional leagues. I was even told that every single game was a complete sell-out.  My only disappointment was that I was not in the right season to see any college football.

After dinner, Tim and I split ways for the evening, as he had managed to purchase a ticket to the premiere of the new Star-Trek film. I instead headed back to the sports bar around the corner and sat down to watch the Grizzlies play the Thunder (I was cheering the Thunder so of course they lost).  By this time it was pretty late in the evening, and I retired to my hostel to get some sleep.

Day Twenty: A Fond Farewell, Austin, And A Reunion

...And that was exactly the case, I watched one more episode in the morning, but I was still one episode from completion!

Anyway, although I was excited to be continuing on my journey, I was definitely sad to be leaving the company of Tim and Cherie. They had taken me in at exactly the time I had most needed it, and I am very grateful.

Tim drove me to the Megabus departure point where I would be moving to Austin, further into Texas. I was looking forward to Austin as not only had it received glowing reviews from Tim and Cherie, but many of the people I had stayed with in New Orleans had been there and told me I had to go (Mitch, Josh, and Sidsel). The city itself was a large student town as it was home to the 60,000 strong University of Texas campus, although I arrived the day everyone was moving out.  Austin was also a centre for business and culture, with many office blocks, museums, parks, bars, theaters and boasting the reputation of the live music capital of the world.

The location of the hostel was perfect, right on 6th street, the entertainment centre of the town. The hostel used to be a firehouse which they had recently converted to cater for many young travellers. I straight away headed for the shower (shouldn't have taken the 20 block walk in full backpack in the 35* heat). Although I did not mind meeting new people, my friend Tim (he's back) was also staying in Houston, so we headed out to get a bite to eat in an upmarket restaurant before settling down in a sports bar around the corner from our hostel to watch some playoff basketball. Later on the evening, I joined Tim in meeting up with a friend he had made in Tasmania who was a student in Austin. We went out for drinks with her and the rest of her Ultimate Frisby team (huge deal in Austin) before heading back to the hostel to sleep.

Day Nineteen: Clay Whistles, The Blog, And More Vikings

Both Cherie and Tim were working today, but rather than waste the day napping, I took Cherie up on her offer to go with her to work at the art department of the local Community College.  The department was a large building with a mini kitchen on one side, tables in the middle, and an area set up for pottery spinning at the other end. The edges of the room was filled with completed and semi-completed artwork from this semester and from previous years. As the term had ended the day before, the department was not as busy as it would have been a few days before. Luckily for me, this meant that one of the staff allowed me to play with some clay and helped me to create a working whistle! It was a lot harder than it looked but in the end I was pretty happy with my work. I did actually create it for someone, and they may be a follower of this blog, so look out in the post in a couple of weeks time!

Although I completed the making of the whistle, it will not be ready for a while as it takes a few weeks to dry, and then to fire. I chose a glaze before I left for the day and left it in the hands of people far more capable than I am.

After Cherie took me on a tour around campus, I set myself up on a computer in the office and tried to catch up on my blog. Although I have enjoyed doing it, I often find it hard to find the time to write it. I managed to write about 5 posts, but I was still fairly behind (I am now as well. Currently writing this post in Denver, about a week in the future).

In the evening we went out for dinner at the local tavern, where I again got a burger (I think I see a culinary theme developing). The evening was not complete without watching more Vikings episodes. Although we had managed to watch 8, it seemed likely that I would be destined to leave without finishing the series...

Day Eighteen: Texas BBQ, The Best Steak, And The Vikings

It was on days like these where staying with locals is a real plus-point. Up until this point I had always stayed in large cities, and as great as that is, you do not get to see what things are like in Americans many small towns.

After a family Skype chat, we headed over to Cherie's parents for a BBQ, a real Texas BBQ. Along with the parents, Cherie's sister and brother-in-law also joined us. They could not have been more hospitable to me, feeding and watering me constantly, and talking to me in that wonderful Texan accent.  They were such an interesting couple as due to Billy's work (oil, what else!) they had travelled all over the world for many years. I certainly enjoyed their stories about London, a foreigners viewpoint can bring some interesting insight to which no local would pay attention to.

For lunch, I had a real treat. Billy was very well known for his steak cooking ability (and who knows better than Texans) and I was not let down. Hands down best steak I has ever had. To go along with this masterpiece were a series of salads and potatoes. Although I was eating so much it began to get uncomfortable, I didn't feel like I could stop, especially when Cherie's Nutella triple-layered chocolate cake made its appearance.

After a wonderful dinner and some great conversation, we headed back home and fell onto the sofas for a night of TV. The show we watched, I had not come across before- 'Vikings'. It was a recent release on History and I would be very surprised if it is not soon picked up by a British channel. It was a 10-part series based around a character, Ragnar, and his life in Denmark and his journey's West to make the first Viking invasions of North England at Lindisfarne in the 700s. A very gritty storyline with plenty of gore, a must-see for fans of historical drama. We ended up watching 4 episodes before we eventually called it a night!

Day Seventeen: Galveston, The Ferry, And A Family Meeting

I woke up refreshed and ready to explore Texas, the only thing I needed was a hearty breakfast. I would not be disappointed. Cherie made a beautiful breakfast frittata with sausage, onion, spinach, tomatoes and 'erbs (herbs). After a serving (or three) we prepared to visit Cherie's son Sloan, who was working in a chemical plant in Port Arthur, a couple of hours to the East. This was perfect for me as it gave to to see a lot more of Texas.

Before we set off, I briefly visited Tim's counsellors office in town. The building had some great original brickwork in the walls, and Tim's room had some wonderful artwork painted by Cherie and his father. In the same building I also got to see Cherie's office where she worked part time as a skin-care specialist (I am unaware of the technical term).

On our journey, our first stop-off point was in the town of Galveston, which used to be the largest and most important town in Texas before a great storm in 1900 destroyed the entire town. It was a very pretty place with lots of wonderful turn-of-the-century Southern architecture. On the outskirts of town we stopped for lunch in the Mosquito cafe. It was located off the beaten track but it was overflowing with customers, showing how popular it was with the locals. After sampling their turkey sandwich, I can see why. To say the sandwich was merely good would have been the biggest mistake since Neville Chamberlain came back from Germany in 1939 holding aloft a piece of paper signed by Hitler saying he would not expand German territory any further. In other words, the sandwich was tasty.

Rather then drive around a bay, it was decided we should take the car ferry. Our luck was clearly in as we drive straight onto the ferry and within a couple of minutes we cast off. The wind coming off the sea was very much appreciated as for all those who don't know, Texas is warm.

We continued on our journey, driving right beside the Gulf Coast. Although there were some nice buildings overlooking the Gulf, their residents were clearly taking their lives in their own hands as the area was very prone to hurricanes and storm surges. In fact, most houses were built on 20ft high stilts.

We arrived at Sloan's hotel just as he was pulling up. He worked as an environmental officer in a local chemical plant, after graduating from the University of Texas in Austin. The work seemed very tough as he would work 5-5 every day, getting a day off every 2 weeks. It was clearly evident to other people I spoke to that workers rights in the USA are nothing in comparison to those we get in Britain. Furthermore, after an incident in the plant the previous day, safety did not seem to be a high priority.

We went up to Sloan's hotel room and chatted for a while. He was a really nice guy, very funny and always had a smile on his face. After a while we headed out to dinner at a great Texas BBQ place and I had a wonderful speciality burger. Before we drove home, we grabbed some coffee, chatted some more, and said our goodbyes.

Day Sixteen: Thunderstorms, Texas, And A Warm Welcome

I had an early Greyhound bus booked to Houston so I quickly got ready and got a lift to the station.  It was sad to be leaving New Orleans. A wonderful city with some great people (Tim, Mitch, Josh, Jesse, Lily, and Sidsel). As nearly all of the were travelling East, I will not be likely to see them again. I did also manage to get some contact details so I could at least keep track of what they were doing on their travels. I could not get rid of Tim however, as he was also travelling to Houston!

For the first few hours of our trip we travelled through some tremendous thunderstorms. A few of the car parks we pulled into to take a break were well and truly flooded. After a few hours of crossing into the Lone Star state however, the storms were overtaken by beautiful weather and blue skies. We got into Houston at about 4pm and Tim and I said our goodbyes (it wasn't the last I would see him however) and I went to find the family who were kind enough to host me for my time in the city.

Back in 1979, my mother and father were living in London and shared an apartment with a number of other people. One of those people was Tim Gusey. He had recently got back in touch with my mother via Facebook and had heard I was in the Houston area and offered to take me in. The opportunity had come at a great time as I really needed some home comforts and I couldn't have been looked after better by Tim and his wife Cherie. After saying our hellos, they took me into the centre of town to a wonderful couple of bars.  The first was the Okra charity bar which was a non-profit bar where you would vote for the charity the money went to. With a great few local beers and some wonderful pickled and pickled-fried okra (served by an exceptionally vivacious and beautiful barmaid) we started to get to know each other. We hit it off immediately and straight away I felt like I was one of the family.  The next bar we headed to was staffed by a friend of Tim and Cherie's- Amada. She was a wonderful person and straight away offered me the number and address of her daughter in San Francisco who she assured me would love to show me around the city.  I was also fortunate to meet Amada's husband, Bill, who was a unique character- funny, witty, and with a demeanour that was very open and friendly but in an odd-reserved way (I know that is contradictory but he is hard to describe).

Just before we left I got the chance to see a 9/11 memorial funded for by the father of a woman who had died in the 4th plane in Shanksville, PA. it is hard not to feel the emotion, especially after the heroic acts of those on United 93.

Tim and Cherie live about 30 mins outside Houston in a small town called Alvin. I was very thankful for their ability to drive me around as Houston was most definitely not a walkers/public transport user friendly place. We stopped off at a lovely little Mexican restaurant where for the first time in a long time, I could not finish my whole meal! Great food, just a lot of it. We arrived at their home fairly late in the evening and after briefly meeting their two wonderful dogs, Black Dog, and Odie I retired to a huge double bed and settled down for an much needed rest.

Day Fifteen: The City, Post-Katrina, And The Brassaholics

In my eternal wisdom, I had scheduled a city bus tour for 9.30am. Luckily for me, although I did not feel great, I did not feel like death either. The tour was exactly what it said on the tin, taking you around the centre of the city and then into the outer city. What the tour lacked in the ability to experience things up close and on foot was made up for by the sheer amount of distance that could be covered and hence more could be seen. One of the main themes of the tour was also taking stock of the damage of Katrina, back in 2005.

I could not speak more highly of the tour guide for the trip (a common theme in the States). He was a local man who had lived all his life in the city. There was not a single detail he didn't know about every building and place in the city, famous or not. He spouted more dates, stories, personal anecdotes and facts than any person I had heard before. It made you feel like you really got to know the city.

At first he took us around the downtown area (passing the Superdome, home to the New Orleans Saints NFL team and the 2013 Superbowl), and then into the historic French Quarter and down into the wealthy Garden Quarter where the average property value was upwards of $3  million. In this area you are not allowed to demolish any home, you can only renovate what you have. This meant that many houses were covered in scaffolding, especially after Katrina as the water reached 10ft in this area (almost all of New Orleans is below sea-level).

After travelling further out of the city, we stopped off at one of the cities famous graveyards. Here we got out of the bus and got a tour around some of the crypts. Although some were pretty, the grandiose style is definitely not my cup of tea (and the fact a crypt would cost you upwards of $100,000).  The tour bus then took us to a beautiful park on the outside of the city to take a lunch break. As I was not hungry I headed into the park and managed to take a few photos of the scenery and a small sculpture garden I stumbled across.

The final part of the tour was the most interesting but in the most morbid sense. We travelled into the lower 9th ward, site of the worst flooding during Katrina (13ft of water). Although new houses were being built, there were still the wreak ages of hundreds of others as the people who owned them could not afford to rebuild them (shockingly, the insurance companies did not pay out on many claims as you needed several coverage packages depending on how high the flooding would reach) or even to knock them down (even if you could afford to rebuild, insurance costs about $20,000 per year). The guide explained the many complex rules guiding whose responsibility the houses were, either the individuals or the cities. On the doors of many of the houses were spray-painted signs written by different groups of the National Guard who would write the date they had checked the house, and the numbers of bodies were inside. Officially, about 1800 were reported to have died but many more people are missing and the city does not keep a record of missing persons.

The detestation caused over 100,000 people to permanently leave the city. The tour guide had explained how the population were told that the storm would miss them so when they did discover it was going to hit, it was too late to evacuate. He had managed to leave before the hurricane had made landfall but it took 18 months before he could move back onto his front lawn, and another few years for his house to be rebuilt. Infrastructural damage was so bad that it took the authorities 9 months just to get the street lights working again. I am definitely not doing justice to the events so I urge people to go to the city and to see for themselves. 

I was very tired after the tour so I had a nap in my room and waited for plans to emerge in the evening.  In the end, it was decided that a group of us (Tim, Mitch, Josh, Tom, and Emily) would head the opposite way from town down Magazine Street to check out a brass band playing in one of the bars. Before going into the bar we had a delicious dinner (I had a Cuban-style pulled pork po'boy). The band themselves were very talented but unfortunately I was not in the same mood as I had been the previous night and I had an early bus trip the next morning. When the band had finished we waited for a taxi outside. It was there we were joined by a young American man who began asking us questions of our views of gun control. After telling him every American was gun crazy and giving him the full spiel about the stupidity of the second amendment, he told us how he owned 23 guns. Think about that for a second. There must have been a time when he thought to himself that 22 guns were insufficient. He was completely vulnerable until the 23rd had been purchased. The reason he owned the guns was that he was scared of the government and he needed to have access to guns so he could start a militia revolution. The mind boggles, it really does. When there are people like this is the world, no wonder I have a serious superiority complex (Jokes! Well actually, only partly. In fact, not at all). It truly sickens me to the core of my being. Fortunately for me, Josh was as equally militantly, liberal as I, so we could share our outrage together. We managed to ditch the retard and get a lift back to the hostel.

Day Fourteen: The Bayou, LaFayette Funk, And A Bourbon Street Blowout

Since I had booked a swamp tour for the awkward time of 12.30pm, I could not really get up to much in the morning. I chatted to some of the hostel residents for a while and waited for the bus to pick me up.

The bus ride to the tour centre was a great chance to see some of the city as we passed through many sections picking up other tour participants. The location of the tour was the Bayou swamps about 30 mins outside the city. It was a perfect day to take the airboat out. I had booked the 16 person airboat tour but fortunately for me, there were only another 3 people on the airboat with me so we could pick up some decent speed. 

Our tour guide was a lovely young guy who had grown up in the area and knew a lot about the swamplands and the alligators inhabiting them. He had a good accent and spoke incredibly quickly but his enthusiasm and wit was plain to see.

The feeling when you got up some speed was fantastic. Although we only reached speeds of about 35mph, with the air fizzing in your hair and the deafening noise from the giant fan, it felt a lot faster. Also, when you turned the boat, it would skim and slide around the corner giving some wonderful drift cornering. Our guide took us to a secluded spot in the swamp and I managed to spot the first alligator. Here the guide spoke in a lot of detail about the animal and debunked many myths surrounding their reputation. Although they are dangerous and demand respect, they almost never attack humans and the attacks are very rarely fatal.  We wound our way around more swampland (mainly river channels with banks at each side) and settled in another area where we got to have a lot closer look at a number of other alligators. The tour guide threw in some marshmallows to attract the alligators, and as these few were small enough not to attack, the tour guide showed his mettle...

After some more cruising around, the guide went to the back of the airboat and brought out a little friend. As the girl behind me screamed, I knew it could only be one thing. I even got to hold the little biter...

With the informative part of the tour over, the guide took an exciting joyride back through the swamp to our home port. Although the tour was relatively expensive, it was well worth the money and i got to see a little more of the country than just the cities.

I got back to the hostel at about 5.30pm and almost immediately left again as one of the hostel workers took me, and a couple of others (Tim, Jesse and Lily) to a charity funk concert in town. Every Wednesday night in Lafayette park, the town would host a free open air concert. Food and beverages were available and all those profits would go to charity (I had a sensational beef brisket and slaw sandwich, 2 in fact). The musicians playing were a local funk group called 'Dumpstaphunk' who were really excellent, although in New Orleans, you should expect nothing less.

After a couple of hours of free music, we headed back to the hostel to prepare for a night out on the town. The group who eventually went out were the same as those who had gone to the concert (a really great bunch of people). Even though Bourbon street is a very touristy place taken over by bars and strip clubs, it is essential for all those new to NOLA to experience once.  I shall not go into too much detail about what happened later that night as  this is a family rated blog. A good amount of laughter and drinking however did take place (how much, I loathe to remember). Following a funny but embarrassing experience with a bartender girl (which Lily and Jesse, being the authors of the prank, of course videoed) we found our way into a karaoke bar. Although I had previously never imagined any situation where I would be convinced to perform at such a venue, I found myself a mere hour later on stage with Tim and Jesse singing 'Hey Ya!' by OutKast. Unfortunately, I had one of the microphones and the whole performance was caught on camera. Luckily however, Jesse's girlfriend Lily was mainly concentrating on Jesse's 'unique' dance moves. I may have looked and sounded horrendous, but I was outdone.

Being very late (early) we went back to hostel and I crashed out, shattered, by having had a great day.

Day Thirteen: New Orleans, WWII, And Crawfish

After the short layover at Mobile at 4am, I must have fallen soundly asleep as the next thing I knew I was already in New Orleans, 5 minutes away from the station.  You could already tell why the city captures the hearts and minds of so many: lovely weather, beautiful surroundings, and a lot of people walking the streets.

From the station I was fortunate enough to get a shuttle bus run by my hostel.  The two guys who picked me up also gave me a nice tour of the area I was staying (a 15 minute walk to the the French Quarter).  As I could not officially check in until later in the afternoon, I sat out in the backyard and started chatting to some really nice Australian and New Zealander travellers who gave me a good few tips on what areas to go to, both in New Orleans and beyond.

As I had only today and 2 more days to spend in New Orleans, I needed to utilise as much time as I could.  I had a shower and walked into the city to check out the World War II Museum, supposedly one of the best in the country.  The museum had a very good 4D film, directed and narrated by Tom Hanks describing the American experience in the War.  The two permanent exhibitions were very interesting- one was on D-Day and the second on the Pacific War.  My only problem with the museum was not one of their own creation.  I have studied this time period so thoroughly and watched hundreds of hours of documentaries on the subject so I found it difficult to read all the information presented. I tended to spend most of my time looking at pictures, safe, easy pictures.  One of the parts my interest did pique was a short film about Eisenhower having to make decision whether or not to go ahead with Operation Overlord.  It is hard to imagine how much pressure he was under: delay, and you lose the momentum, the surprise, and potentially an opportunity to land at all; go ahead and you run the risk of storms destroying your ships and crippling any landing attempts.  He said go: the rest, they say, is history.

I was a bit crowded for time so I did not get to visit the exhibit run by Boeing showing the aircraft of the war.  In the end though, museum fatigue was strong and so I was happy just to head home.

When I got back to the hostel I could officially check-in.  I was in a 12 bed room of which currently only 3 were being used.  I managed to get a good nap in before I wanted to taste some of the famous New Orleans food.  We got a good recommendation from one of the staff and set off with a good group (Sidsel, Mitch and Tim). At the restaurant (The Blind Pelican), we ordered oysters and the local speciality crawfish. Both were delicious and full of flavour. Unfortunately we weren't the best at picking the meat off the crawfish so it was a lot more difficult than it should have been. After dinner we went back to the hostel to wait for Mitch and Sid's friend, Josh to arrive from Austin. When he eventually arrived it was pretty late but we got the streetcar into town and walked down Bourbon street, the main touristy bar strip, to Frenchmen street, more for the locals. By this time it was already pretty late so we only had a few drinks before getting a gab back to the hostel.

Day Twelve: Discovery Place, Greyhounds, And The Deep South At Night

Today was a little awkward as my checkout time at the motel was 11am but my coach to New Orleans was not until 4pm.  My bag is not particularly big but it isn't the greatest thing to carry around a city.  My first stop was again Starbucks to Skype my parents.  The biggest difference with the day before however was that the weather was now beautiful.  The downtown area of Charlotte is definitely somewhere I could see myself working and living.

The final attraction that I visited in Charlotte was 'Discovery Place', a kind of science museum aimed at the younger generation with many interactive exhibits.  On the bottom floor was a pretty neat miniature aquarium, a learning classroom, and a small rainforest room.  I sat down behind the glass staring for ages into the rainforest trying to spot the animals.  The birds were fairly easy to spot but everything else seemed to be perfectly camouflaged.  It took me a full 10 minutes just to spot the 2 tortoises on the floor right in front of me.

After a quick Cesar salad lunch (healthy, right?) I watched a film about the Arctic on a huge domed IMAX screen.  The film was very good although I have seen so many Arctic documentaries that it is hard to cover new information.  The top floor was probably the most interesting as it contained many, for want of a better word, toys that explained and demonstrated scientific principles.  I got to lie on a bed of nails, fire an air cannon at targets, carry and centrifugally-charged briefcase, and crush cans with an industrial-sized machine.

Funtime was over however and I walked down to the Greyhound station, ready to travel on the 16 hour journey across the South to NOLA.  Although the journey was not as bad as the time would suggest, it was not very comfortable waiting for an hour in the Greyhound station in Atlanta surrounded by some questionable characters.  The biggest disappointment was that when driving through Georgia, Mississippi, Alabama and Louisiana, it was pitch-black outside and I could not take in that Deep South scenery.  For those of you who are aware of the works of Dylan will be excited to know that I was indeed 'Stuck (for an hour) Inside of Mobile'.

Day Eleven: Panthers, The New South, And Robert Downey Jr.

As I had only one full day in Charlotte, I wanted to make of good a use of it as I could.  To get the day off to a relatively poor start, the rain was heavy and it was a Sunday, meaning the museums had limited opening times.  My bad mood quickly dissipated however as soon as I entered the city.

The cabbie dropped me off in the south downtown area, right next to the Carolina Panthers stadium.  Although it was completely closed down, I managed to get some good photos of the exterior.  Slowly but surely, I was beginning to tick off a number of the NFL stadiums.

Charlotte is the second largest and most important financial centre in North America and located in it are many banks headquarters.  This wealth meant that the city was full of skyscrapers and the streets were immaculately clean with trees and fountains all the way down.  As everything was still shut down at this point I managed to find a Starbucks so I could Skype my parents.  By the time that had finished, the visitor centre had opened so I wandered over there to see how best to use my time in the city.  After some sage advice, I walked over to the Mint Museum which contained a number of artworks and objects throughout the history of North Carolina.  The favourites of mine were a number of wooden sculptures by a local artist and the saltworks by Motoi Yamamoto, a Japanese artist, who would create intricate patterns on floors and walls using sea salt.

The next museum I visited, the Levine Museum of the New South, was one of the best I had visited in America.  Although I had studied American history up until the Civil War and from WWII onwards, I had little understanding of the gap in between.  This was the topic that the museum covered.  What the museum lacked in funding, in comparison to the national museums, it made up for in rich detailed knowledge.  Of particular interest to me was the state of civil rights and the growth of the KKK in the Carolinas after the end of the civil war.  After some initial progress, African Americans and poor white farmers were again effectively denied voting rights due to their lack of wealth and property.  There was also a section on the success of busing (sending children of each race to other neighbourhoods to encourage integration in schools) in North Carolina which was eventually discontinued leading to the de facto school segregation of children from different races.

By this time, although I thoroughly enjoy them, I was getting tired of walking around museums, trying to absorb every little piece of information so I headed down to the entertainment capital of the city, the EPICentre.  I had an amazingly good burger in a sports bar whilst watching the NBA playoffs and flirting a little with the waitress (she loved the accent).  As there was still much of the evening to go I decided to visit the cinema.  With only 4 movies showing I had little choice so I went with the best available, Iron Man 3 (I know I said 'best' available) and went to the screen to take my seat.  On the way into the cinema I was handed a menu... a menu?!?!  I calmly enquired as to the purpose, to be told that you could order main meals in the cinema as people would walk around and take your order.  When I went to sit down, I was apparently the only person who was not opting for such a service.  Not only that but I had a double-sized seat all to myself... AND IT RECLINED (*simulates shooting myself in the head*).  The film itself could have been worse I guess but it is definitely not my kind of film.

Another semi-expensive cab ride back to the motel, some more baseball, and eventually- sleep.

Day Ten: Road Trip, Charlotte, And A King-Size Room

I managed to pack without waking too many people up and I walked down to Union Station to get the Megabus to Charlotte.  The journey itself was not too eventful as you couldn't get too good a view of the surrounding countryside (Virginia and North Carolina).

We eventually pulled into the outskirts of Charlotte at about 4pm from where I got a cab to my motel near the airport (my 20 minute cab cost more than the 9 hour coach!)  I had to stay in a motel because there were not any hostels in the Charlotte area.  Fortunately, the motel was pretty nice and I managed to get a king-sized room for the same price as a basic room.  After a few days in a hostel, it was nice to have your own room and double bed in which to spread out.  Being a little boring, I switched on the TV to watch some baseball before getting an early night.

Day Nine: Holocaust, Library again, And More Drinks

The only thing I now had a burning desire to see in Washington was the Holocaust Museum.  As Pete, Kory, and Amanda also wanted to see it, for the first time in my sightseeing, I had some company.

We arrived in good time to get tickets to the exhibition which were scheduled for an hours time.  To make the wait more interesting we thought that in the meantime we would walk the streets surrounding the museum.  Little did we know that as soon as we stepped outside, the queue had increased by about 100 times meaning that we had to join at the back immediately just to make sure we got back inside in time.

One of the side-exhibits perhaps intrigued me the most.  It had to do with collaboration and complicity of ordinary citizens.  To me this as impossible question to answer as although we all believe that in that situation we would risk our lives to save Jews, the fact that millions of people did not means that the matter was far more complicated.  It would be absurd to suggest that, by nature, Germans were inherently more 'evil' than those people who lived in other countries.  Anti-Semitism was (and is) by no means a Germany-only phenomenon.  In my opinion, it is a nigh on unobtainable goal to decide where the blame lies.  All you can do is open up an exhibit about the topic and expose people to many viewpoints.

The exhibition proper was just as distressing, depressing, and disturbing as one would imagine. It begins with the rise of the Nazis and ends with the aftermath of the 'Final Solution'.  To try and explain the exhibit in mere words would be doing it a disservice, and so I encourage everyone to visit it for themselves.

As I had done all the things I had set out to at the beginning of my trip to Washington, I decided to follow the others around to wherever they wanted to go.  Because of my strong recommendation of the Library of Congress, we headed there for my second visit.  Fortunately for me, I enjoyed it as much as the first as this tour guide talked about many different topics from my first tour guide.

In the evening we again went out into the city, this time to a bustling area known as Adams Morgan where again we visited a few more bars.

I had enjoyed my time in Washington very much, it remains one of my favourite cities, however time was running out and I needed to move on.  I set my alarm for early early morning (5.30am) to catch my bus to Charlotte, North Carolina.

Day Eight: Government, Learning, and Drinks in Georgetown

Having already spent a few days in Washington, and with time running out, I thought it was necessary to go to the 'Centre' of the city, the reason for its existence, the Capitol building.  Although I had not booked a tour, as I was by myself, it was quite easy to pick up spare tickets.  There were hundreds of young schoolchildren on field trips but fortunately I managed to get on a small tour with a good tour instructor.

After a short movie explaining the history of the building (including when the Brits burned down the city in the War of 1812) we headed into 'The Crypt'.  in the middle of this room was the central point in the city, directly under the dome.  Where the spot stood was supposed to be where George Washington would be buried.  However, by the time the building was complete, Washington has already been dead for 50 or so years and he in his will stated that he wanted to be buried at his own house in Mount Vernon, 20 miles from the city.  So instead of a piece of historical importance, all we got was a little plaque.

The next room however was a tad more interesting. We walked into a large circular hall, directly below the Capitol dome.  On all the walls around the hall were 12 amazing paintings of scenes throughout American history including Columbus 'discovering' America and the marriage of Pocahontas.  The dome itself was also very impressive and it was a shame that you could not go any higher to get a better look.  From this room we headed to the old meeting room of the House that was used before the numbers of representatives became too high.  In this space were a number of statues representing great figures from the individual states.  Each state gets to donate 2 such statues to the collection which they can change at any time.  After this, the tour was over which was a little disappointing seeing as we only saw a tiny section of the entire building.  I did however manage to get tickets to gain entrance to both chambers of the legislature.  After many security checks, you eventually got to sit in the chambers and absorb the history from such important places.  The only shame was that at the time of my visit, neither of the chambers was sitting for debate.  After the Capitol building was done, I grabbed a bite to eat and headed on the underground walkway to the Library of Congress.

The library provided perhaps the biggest surprise of the Washington visit.  Although I expected a nice building with some impressive architecture, I was not prepared for how beautiful it was.  Immediately upon my entrance, I managed to secure a tour of the building with the greatest tour guide in America.  He managed to bring the building to life and to impart the significance of the work the library does.  Effectively, the Library holds millions of copies of books, newspapers, magazines, CDs, DVDs, maps, comics etc so as to accumulate all human knowledge.  There is no subject of which the Library does not collect.  However, although they claim to have the most documents on the planet, the British Library actually has more as they also collect patents.  All over the main building are paintings, sculptures and mosaics symbolising the depth and breadth of knowledge contained.  All subjects, professions, nationalities, ages and races are allowed to study within the library.  Although I currently cannot put up pictures on the blog, I did take many of them and I hope to post them to Facebook as soon as I can.  In the centre of the hall were displayed some incredible documents- a 15th century handwritten copy of the Bible and opposite, an original first edition copy of the Gutenberg Bible.  To see with my own eyes one of the most important historical pieces of all time was quite a moment.  The last part of the tour allowed us to oversee one of the reading rooms, which put the the British Library to shame.

Also as part of the Library were 2 mini-exhibitions, one on historical maps (the centre-piece being the first map ever contain the word 'America' on), and the other on the American Civil War.  From this exhibit, my main attraction came in the form of the contents of Abraham Lincoln's pockets from the night he was assassinated, including, interestingly enough, a $5 Confederate banknote.  Also in this exhibit was Thomas Jefferson's original library, the one he sold to Congress to begin the library's collection.

After seeing what the Legislative side of American politics had to offer, I thought a visit to the home of American Justice was in order.  Fortunately for me, that meant only a 40 second walk. 

On the steps of the Supreme Court I had my first crisis of conscience.  A man was standing with a placard proclaiming some questionable viewpoints on the relationship between the Bible and abortion.  I stood around uneasily trying to think of the wittiest riposte when he asked me whether I wanted my picture taken in front of the building. I weighed up in my mind the outcome of such an undertaking and decided to sell my soul and let the man to take the photo, and you know what, it wasn't half-bad.

There was not too much to do within the Supreme Court but I did manage to tag along to the last talk of the day.  Unbeknownst to me, the talk took place within the courtroom proper, allowing me to reflect upon the tremendous highs, and shocking lows of the decisions made in that room (Brown Vs. Board of Education and Plessy Vs. Ferguson as cases in point).  For the rest of the time until the building closed, I walked the corridors, admiring (and detesting) the busts and paintings of previous justices.

When I got home to the hostel, I ate and showered, preparing myself for my first 'night out' in the States.  When the rest of the group (Jesse, Jessica, Kory, Konrad, Amanda, and Pete) had congregated we headed across to Georgetown (college area) to find a few good bars.  After some good American larger and onion rings, we ended up at a nice piano bar.  Most of the rest of the night was spent sitting around the piano trying to convince the musician to play some of my favourite songs.  Victory was finally achieved when at 1.30am, he played 'Like A Rolling Stone'.



Problems With Photos

Unfortunately I seem to be having some issues with getting some photographs onto my posts. Because of is, at this moment, and will just write the blog and hope to add the photos as soon as I get over there issues.

Day Seven: Newseum Again, Famous Art, and German Dominance

After a decent, much needed, sleep I tucked into a staff prepared pancake and maple syrup breakfast and planned out my day. As I got an unexpected amount done the day before, I felt less pressurised for time. My first destination of the day was a trip back to the Newseum to finish off the exhibits I missed.

One of the advantages of the location of my hostel was that to get to the attractions in the city, you would walk right past the Capitol building and right down The Mall. As today was a far more pleasant day than previously, I retook many photos, including some new ones in front of the Capitol fountain.

When I got back into the Newseum, the next exhibit I saw was about news coverage of the 9/11 attacks. The centrepiece of the exhibit was a portion of the television and radio mast that sat atop one of the towers. It was very mangled but mainly in tact...

Also displayed prominently (you can see in the picture above) were the newspaper headlines from around the world, proclaiming shock, anger, war, and just telling the news.  The most affecting part of the exhibit however, was a short video interviewing journalists who were on the scene right after the aeroplanes bit and during the collapse of the towers (unbelievably, only one journalist, a photographer, died- his recovered equipment and photographs were on display).

On the next level down, the question of press freedom and ethics were scrutinised. My two favourites of the exhibition was the world press freedom map, colour-coding the level of press freedom (surprisingly), and an interactive quiz on what you would do in ethically grey situations. The question that took my interest was about a 3 year old starving Sudanese child crawling on the ground to a UN food camp. A vulture flew onto the ground next to her and you, a photographer, was asked whether you would help the girl or take the photo and do nothing. I opted for helping the girl but the majority of press responses would have been the other option. There reasoning would be that far more impact would be made with the photo than helping the girl. In one way, they were right, the story was real, and the photographer (Kevin Carter) won a Pulitzer Prize and helped put the spotlight of famine in Africa.

                                            

It later emerged that Kevin had waited 20 minutes hoping that the vulture would open its wings. In defence of Kevin however, it should be noted that UN aid workers told people not to touch the children as they were likely diseased and this could spread the disease. He also regretted his decision for the rest of his life and he committed suicide several years later. As sad as the story is, it shows the difficulty of morals and ethics in journalism.

On the bottom floor they was an exhibit on Pulitzer Prize winning photographs including all the winners and many of the stories behind the photos. It is in these photos that the joy and sadness, cowardice and courage, and good and evil of life are clearly shown. Many of these photos are universally recognisable (raising the flagon Iwo Jima and the naked Vietnamese girl running from the napalm) and have played a huge part in contributing to public perception.

After the Newseum, I spent the next couple of hours in the National gallery across the street.  The fact I only had an hour or so meant that I couldn't enjoy the visit as much as I would have liked, especially since the gallery featured thousands of paintings. After walking briskly through the Pre-Renaissance art, stopping only to take photos of painters I had heard of, I spent a little more time in the 17th, 18th, and 19th century European works. Although I did not get a full 'experience', I did manage to see some Turner, Rembrandt, Monet, Constable, Holbein, Bosch, and Van Gogh. The temporary exhibit was on the Pre-Raphelite English painters which again, unfortunately I could not spend too much time around. I did however manage to see 'Ophelia', a favourite of mine.

With all this talk of running out of time, I should admit the reason that this was the case. Quite simply, it was the second leg of Bayern Munich v Barcelona, and at the time (and let's be honest, in hindsight as well) I thought this was a better use of time. I watched the game with a German guy from the hostel enjoying a good cheap pitcher of beer. Although the result was not as I wanted, seeing the One True Sport did give me a comfortable taste of home.

With everything closed after the match had finished I headed back to the hostel and spent a few hours catching up in my blog, and chatting with some new arrivals: Jesse, Amanda, and Peter from Australia, and Jessica from Wales. Tomorrow I would make my advance on Capitol Hill and see what delights American democracy had in store for me.

Day Six: Greyhound, Hostel, and Washington D.C.

Waking up at 6.00am is never the greatest start to the day but we managed to get away on time and get a bus to Port Authority in Manhattan. Here I said goodbye to my uncle after a few wonderful days with his family and I waited for my Greyhound bus to D.C. The bus journey itself was uneventful though quite comfortable. I managed to get a few more hours sleep and spent the rest of the 4 1/2 hour journey getting myself in the American mood by listening to New York and New Jersey classics- 'Illmatic' by Nas, and 'Born to Run' by Bruce Springsteen.

The journey also enabled me to tick off a few states on the map. I have travelled through New York, New Jersey, Maryland, the District of Columbia and one of my favourite states (Kate Wood Hill)...

After arriving at Union Station...

It was only a 15 minute walk to my hostel.  The hostel itself was pleasant if nothing too special. I am in a co-ed room with six bunks although at the time of writing this, I don't know who else is actually in my room. After dumping my bag I headed straight back out into the city as I did not want to waste any valuable time. I have already been to Washington before which helped as I knew which monuments and museums I most wanted to visit.

At first I headed to the Capitol building for a few photos, I walked down the Mall to the 'Newseum', a museum about news throughout history. Whereas most of the attractions in the city are free, unfortunately this one cost me $25 to get in. Fortunately though, it turned out to be a very good museum.

During my first day's visit, I managed to see a real section of the Berlin Wall, as well as one of the towers from near Checkpoint Charlie. The temporary exhibit on the top floor was about the assassination of JFK from the point of view of the media, including all the newspaper headlines from the next day as well as broadcasts covering the minutes and hours after the event. The highlight was watching the Walter Cronkite broadcast (very famous) announcing the President's death. A normally unshakeable Cronkite very clearly shaken. The next part of the museum was a history of front covers of newspapers featuring over 600 covers from across the world from the 1600s to the modern day including the Declaration of Independence, The Assassination of Jesse James, The death of Hitler, and man landing on the moon. At this time with museum closing, I moved onto the National Archive building just across the road on The Mall.

Although this building is famous for housing all the important documents of government, including the original Decleration of Independence, Constitution, and Bill of Rights, the real treat came in the queue for these pieces. Tucked away in the corner of the room housing the documents stood a far more important document in world history and politics... An original copy of the Magna Carta. The document itself was in staggeringly good condition considering its age (1215), and you could still translate enough of the Old English for it to be legible to the reader.

By this time the Museums had all closed, but the monuments had not. First stop was the White House...

Here I had some quick business to attend to. Unfortunately for Baz (Barack to all of you plebs), I told him I would have to stop drafting foreign policy as I needed to work my way down the Mall. After shaking the Secret Service agents I made it to the World War II  memorial which is a fitting tribute and powerful memorial to those who served and contributed to the effort. A short walk through a memorial garden stood a far more understated yet equally powerful monument, that to the Veterans of the Vietnam War. Cut into plain patch of grass, the memorial simply lists the names of those who died in Vietnam (over 100,000 American soldiers). What makes this memorial unique is the number of personal messages and bouquets laid at the floor of the marble walls. The reminder here that those lost are much closer to us historically than the other monuments.  Furthermore, whereas the other monuments seem to be boldly and proudly showing their messages of a great feat or individual, the Vietnam memorial quietly mourns a generation of men lost for a questionable cause. From here I crossed over to the highlight of the monument tour, the Lincoln memorial. Rising high in the skyline, in front of the Reflecting Pool and opposite the Capitol building, sits a great figure. Walking up the steps to the statue itself (housed in a Greek-style temple) you are overpowered by a sense of importance. This is only furthered when you see the plaque marking the spot from where Martin Luther King Jr. gave his 'I Have A Dream Speech'. Either side of the statue, who sits dominantly yet confidently over his viewers, stand the only things that can do a man such as him, justice, his words. In my mind 'The Gettysburg Address' is the most eloquently simple message, yet powerful speech ever to have been given. Further around stands the new Martin Luther King memorial that was being built at the time of my most recent visit to the city. Although the quotes on the walls surrounding the statue were wonderfully chosen, the statue itself does not do the man justice, and looks more like a caricature. The next monument, to great president FDR, is the most interesting, as it stretches out lengthways, featuring a number of different sections covering all his achievements and his three presidential terms. After visiting the George Mason memorial (don't worry, I hadn't heard of him either), and the more recognisable Jefferson memorial, I had completely tired myself out.

After such an early start and a comprehensive walking tour of Washington, I thought it best to head back to the Hostel and get a decent sleep. Tomorrow, I would try and see many more museums.