When I was planning my trip I made a conscious decision that I wanted to travel a lot of the US by train. I'd journeyed around Europe the same way and enjoyed the mode of transport. Being able to sit by the window and watch the world pass on by, taking in what was around and able to get up and stretch the legs or grab a bite to eat whenever the will took me. Amtrak, Americas rail network had already presented some problems in that its actually a pretty limited service. Basically, it doesn't actually go to that many places and the ones it does go to you might be quicker walking.
Still, there were a good few parts of the route that would allow me to travel by train. I'd ventured from New York to Boston quite comfortably and quickly and was now about to embark on the 2nd such trip. This time, the much longer stretch from Boston to Chicago.
I had worked out prices before hand, using the Amtrak website to gauge how much my transport costs were going to be. What I failed to take into account is that the ticket price doubles (or there abouts) if buying your ticket a day or 2 in advance. So here I was, some $150 lighter and thinking it would have been cheaper to fly!
The thing with buying a seat on the train, especially going overnight, is that you buy one and pray you get two. You watch as the seats fill up, hoping the doors will close before someone asks those magic words "Is this seat taken?" and plonks themselves (and often their oversized, overly sweaty body) down next to you.
With no direct train to Chicago, the first leg was to Albany, New York State's Capital. O n my way to the station I had bumped into, yep, you guessed it, the 3 Scots, only this time they weren't heading to Chicago but dd have the change at Albany as well. As we boarded though we got split up and I was on my own, travelling to Albany with 2 seats to myself!
I wasn't so fortunate for the 2nd part of my journey. Just as the doors closed, two figures emerged into my cabin and with just a couple of seats left one of them dropped down into my spare seat. Damn it! As it turned out though they were both from Preston and doing similar to me although their primary aim was to get to New Zealand to go snowboarding. They were stopping off in Buffalo to go see Niagara Falls (I had made the decision to skip it as I wanted to spend more time elsewhere and the train scheduling meant it would be nearly a 4 day affair to spend a day at the falls). Part of me ,of course, wished I had decided to do it but I feel you have to be content with what you do as the trip will be full of incidents like this.
We sat, chatted, shared a few beers together before they departed the train around midnight and I seized the opportunity to spread out and act asleep before actually falling asleep!
I awoke at 7.30am, just 30 minutes before arriving in Chicago!
Thursday 28 June 2007
Wednesday 20 June 2007
Boston's Hidden Gems!
The girls last night had wanted to try and get out to Cape Cod today but with weather the way it had been I was far from convinced about going. We met in the morning anyway and it had transpired that their plans had changed anyway and instead they were going to head down to the Prudential Tower to go up to the viewing platform.
Now, I had my Top 10 Boston guidebook, and NOWHERE did it mention any such thing! Actually I hadn't heard it even mentioned before today. So, my conclusion (mostly jokingly ) was that if it wasn't in my Top 10 Boston then it clearly wasn't worth doing. So, of course, I went.
It was kinda nice not to have a plan of action, to just follow on in behind. I'd already become so used to thinking my day through , planning what I wanted to do, it was nice to have someone else lead the way and just go with the flow. The three girls (yes, there was an extra one who'd gone missing last night), Deg and I got on really well and I know I had a great deal of fun spending the day with them all.
The trip to the top of the prudential tower was very much worth it! I'd recommend that the next edition of Top Ten Boston include this most excellent tourist attraction! The views from the top gave you a nice overview of the City, it would have been an ideal starting point to do on the first day but as it is, its nearly my last and I still think its really worth while. Some excellent views of Fenway from up the top too!
I ended up going back over some old ground as the girls wanted to see some of the Freedom Trail and Emelie, the Swedish girl, wanted to go to the Cheers Bar. The others had no idea what we were talking about which made for some bizarre conversations but they all seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Back to Quincy market to sample some of the food and we got a glorious chance to listen to the man we dubbed "Mr Quincy Market" to sing some old kids classics in a Johnny Cash stylee! If he'd had a CD it would be in my collection by now! At the market Anja said he goodbyes and we were down to just 4 or us.
SO the remaining four headed off in search of the Boston Tea Party boat that, we found, after walking around for what seemed like hours, wasn't where we thought it would be and with time ticking we had a mad rush back to the train station so the girls could catch their Chinatown bus back to New York. It was a shame to say goodbye, friendships had developed and I hoped I'd stay in touch with Emelie.
Down to just 2 now, time for beer!! The streets around the centre of town and the bars seemed overly busy, it seemed Tool were in town and tonight's gig had attracted a decent crowd! We decided to try a few side streets before we headed to a bar that seemed to have some live music and a decent noise going on. Did we ever pick the best bar!!!
The Littlest Bar is not only the coolest spot in town, its without doubt the smallest too! Its named for a very good reason it would seem! Inside there was barely room for 50 people and teh place was jammed, a guy (Scott Damguard) was playing in the corner and the crowd were roaring along with him! With him, he had a book of over 500 songs you could ask him to play, and the song selection suited the place just perfectly!
We ended up chatting to a couple of guys who were down on a boat, "The Cat" from Nova Scotia and and between us, the music and the beer, we had an absolutely brilliant time! Unfortunately our hostel being where it is we decided not to risk having to get an expensive cab home and departed rather earlier than we would have liked.
On our way home we thought we'd try and get a few beers to take back with us. After all it was only 9pm. It seems that in Boston, trying to buy beer on a Sunday afternoon or evening is nearly impossible. We ended up asking if there was anywhere open and were taken to this homeless black guy who claimed to know of a place that was open but it was a subway trip away. His girlfriend meanwhile was on the phone asking around. This all seemed rather strange to me. Maybe they were desperate for a drink a thought we'd buy them one, my thoughts turned a lot more suspicious than this and in the e end all we wanted to do was leave! We would have liked another beer for sure, but not THAT badly! We saw our opportunity and ran like hell!
Back at the hostel we settled down to watch to watch the ballgame and play some poker, straws and sugar sachets as chips (you make do with what you can get!), just about getting a pizza in before time as well. The evening drifted on and with a train to Chicago to catch in the morning I retired to bed.
I'd liked Boston, not perhaps as much as I thought I might, but I had liked it. I'd met some great people again, had great fun and a few good stories to tell. I wished I'd been able to stay closer to town but thats life and I wouldn't have met the people I had if I'd been elsewhere, so maybe it worked out for the best. New place, new people tomorrow and a nice 24hr train journey ahead!
NB: Since I was there I believe that The Littlest Bar has been knocked down and being replaced by some development. Its a shame others wont get to experience this wonderful place and I'm sure those locals will miss it even more than me. In honour of a place that will be badly missed,I'd like to dedicate this post to The Littleast Bar.
Now, I had my Top 10 Boston guidebook, and NOWHERE did it mention any such thing! Actually I hadn't heard it even mentioned before today. So, my conclusion (mostly jokingly ) was that if it wasn't in my Top 10 Boston then it clearly wasn't worth doing. So, of course, I went.
It was kinda nice not to have a plan of action, to just follow on in behind. I'd already become so used to thinking my day through , planning what I wanted to do, it was nice to have someone else lead the way and just go with the flow. The three girls (yes, there was an extra one who'd gone missing last night), Deg and I got on really well and I know I had a great deal of fun spending the day with them all.
The trip to the top of the prudential tower was very much worth it! I'd recommend that the next edition of Top Ten Boston include this most excellent tourist attraction! The views from the top gave you a nice overview of the City, it would have been an ideal starting point to do on the first day but as it is, its nearly my last and I still think its really worth while. Some excellent views of Fenway from up the top too!
I ended up going back over some old ground as the girls wanted to see some of the Freedom Trail and Emelie, the Swedish girl, wanted to go to the Cheers Bar. The others had no idea what we were talking about which made for some bizarre conversations but they all seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Back to Quincy market to sample some of the food and we got a glorious chance to listen to the man we dubbed "Mr Quincy Market" to sing some old kids classics in a Johnny Cash stylee! If he'd had a CD it would be in my collection by now! At the market Anja said he goodbyes and we were down to just 4 or us.
SO the remaining four headed off in search of the Boston Tea Party boat that, we found, after walking around for what seemed like hours, wasn't where we thought it would be and with time ticking we had a mad rush back to the train station so the girls could catch their Chinatown bus back to New York. It was a shame to say goodbye, friendships had developed and I hoped I'd stay in touch with Emelie.
Down to just 2 now, time for beer!! The streets around the centre of town and the bars seemed overly busy, it seemed Tool were in town and tonight's gig had attracted a decent crowd! We decided to try a few side streets before we headed to a bar that seemed to have some live music and a decent noise going on. Did we ever pick the best bar!!!
The Littlest Bar is not only the coolest spot in town, its without doubt the smallest too! Its named for a very good reason it would seem! Inside there was barely room for 50 people and teh place was jammed, a guy (Scott Damguard) was playing in the corner and the crowd were roaring along with him! With him, he had a book of over 500 songs you could ask him to play, and the song selection suited the place just perfectly!
We ended up chatting to a couple of guys who were down on a boat, "The Cat" from Nova Scotia and and between us, the music and the beer, we had an absolutely brilliant time! Unfortunately our hostel being where it is we decided not to risk having to get an expensive cab home and departed rather earlier than we would have liked.
On our way home we thought we'd try and get a few beers to take back with us. After all it was only 9pm. It seems that in Boston, trying to buy beer on a Sunday afternoon or evening is nearly impossible. We ended up asking if there was anywhere open and were taken to this homeless black guy who claimed to know of a place that was open but it was a subway trip away. His girlfriend meanwhile was on the phone asking around. This all seemed rather strange to me. Maybe they were desperate for a drink a thought we'd buy them one, my thoughts turned a lot more suspicious than this and in the e end all we wanted to do was leave! We would have liked another beer for sure, but not THAT badly! We saw our opportunity and ran like hell!
Back at the hostel we settled down to watch to watch the ballgame and play some poker, straws and sugar sachets as chips (you make do with what you can get!), just about getting a pizza in before time as well. The evening drifted on and with a train to Chicago to catch in the morning I retired to bed.
I'd liked Boston, not perhaps as much as I thought I might, but I had liked it. I'd met some great people again, had great fun and a few good stories to tell. I wished I'd been able to stay closer to town but thats life and I wouldn't have met the people I had if I'd been elsewhere, so maybe it worked out for the best. New place, new people tomorrow and a nice 24hr train journey ahead!
NB: Since I was there I believe that The Littlest Bar has been knocked down and being replaced by some development. Its a shame others wont get to experience this wonderful place and I'm sure those locals will miss it even more than me. In honour of a place that will be badly missed,I'd like to dedicate this post to The Littleast Bar.
Th Green Monster and the Finns
Back in England the Boston Red Sox are probably the 2nd most known (and supported) team in Major League Baseball, teh Yankees probably edge them out of the top spot. So today I got my chance to See the famous Fenway Park. Home of Boston's finest and, of course, of the famous Green Monster, the giant 37 foot wall in left field, famed for keeping some big hits going for home runs.
Unfortunately the BoSox weren't playing at home during my stay and the upcoming series against the Yankees had been a complete sell out weeks ago so no point sticking around waiting to see a game. Instead I ventured down under my own steam to go check the place out.
I had been hoping to take a tour of the stadium but after locating the stadium, no one seemed to be around and no tours seemed to be being sold. I had to settle for a mooch around the outside. The Green Monster certainly dominates the stadium, and you cant help but get the feeling that this really is the pride and joy of Boston, something in the air around the place, I'm not sure but there is something special about it.
I was disappointed that I didn't get to see more but satisfied that I had at least seen the place and taken a few quick piccies outside (including a nice little sign that seemed to amuse me for a while - "Beer Works", something I've often said!
My baseball fix catered for it was off to see more of Bostons attractions. A walk down Newbery Street was pleasant if uninspiring (thanks mainly to not being able to afford virtually anything on offer!).
A walk back through the common via the vastly overpriced swan boats was I guessed an essential part of Bostonia and, again, a nice enough walk to lead me back to the subway and ready for the lengthy trip back to the hostel.
Wondering what to do for the evening I happened to meet two Finns who had just moved into my dorm. I definitely took a shine to the girl I have to say but figured she was with the guy. Apparently not, as she was quick to point out later on when she accepted my invitation to go for a few drinks. Meanwhile I'd met a Geordie called Deg who was going to come along as well. The more the merrier as far as I was concerned!
There was, of course, only really one place to go, back to our restaurant/bar and we settled down to a few beers and I got the chance to have a good chat with Nea, who, it seemed was pretty impressed with my knowledge of their Ice Hockey team and that I could speak a couple of words of Finnish (thanks Pilvi!).
We wound up back at the hostel and her travelling companion, seemingly a tad drunk was challenging people to an arm wrestle. I guessed he liked her and was feeling somewhat jealous but it had the opposite effect of its intended one and soon he was in bed while the two of us were getting comfy in the common room.
Eventually we said our goodbyes, she was leaving in the morning, a shame but that's life on the road. People drift in and out of your life quick as can be, some you get on well with, others you dont, some you'll probably stay in touch with but whatever it is, its often a day or 2, maybe as long as a week and then its on to meet the new.
As the clocked started ticking well into the night I was still up and meeting new people already. Deg had met a couple of girls while I was with Nea and was now introducing me. I, apparently was married to one of them. A story created to get a creep who'd been pestering them off their backs. It seemed to work and in the mean time the 4 of us got on well enough to half arrange doing something the following day.
Unfortunately the BoSox weren't playing at home during my stay and the upcoming series against the Yankees had been a complete sell out weeks ago so no point sticking around waiting to see a game. Instead I ventured down under my own steam to go check the place out.
I had been hoping to take a tour of the stadium but after locating the stadium, no one seemed to be around and no tours seemed to be being sold. I had to settle for a mooch around the outside. The Green Monster certainly dominates the stadium, and you cant help but get the feeling that this really is the pride and joy of Boston, something in the air around the place, I'm not sure but there is something special about it.
I was disappointed that I didn't get to see more but satisfied that I had at least seen the place and taken a few quick piccies outside (including a nice little sign that seemed to amuse me for a while - "Beer Works", something I've often said!
My baseball fix catered for it was off to see more of Bostons attractions. A walk down Newbery Street was pleasant if uninspiring (thanks mainly to not being able to afford virtually anything on offer!).
A walk back through the common via the vastly overpriced swan boats was I guessed an essential part of Bostonia and, again, a nice enough walk to lead me back to the subway and ready for the lengthy trip back to the hostel.
Wondering what to do for the evening I happened to meet two Finns who had just moved into my dorm. I definitely took a shine to the girl I have to say but figured she was with the guy. Apparently not, as she was quick to point out later on when she accepted my invitation to go for a few drinks. Meanwhile I'd met a Geordie called Deg who was going to come along as well. The more the merrier as far as I was concerned!
There was, of course, only really one place to go, back to our restaurant/bar and we settled down to a few beers and I got the chance to have a good chat with Nea, who, it seemed was pretty impressed with my knowledge of their Ice Hockey team and that I could speak a couple of words of Finnish (thanks Pilvi!).
We wound up back at the hostel and her travelling companion, seemingly a tad drunk was challenging people to an arm wrestle. I guessed he liked her and was feeling somewhat jealous but it had the opposite effect of its intended one and soon he was in bed while the two of us were getting comfy in the common room.
Eventually we said our goodbyes, she was leaving in the morning, a shame but that's life on the road. People drift in and out of your life quick as can be, some you get on well with, others you dont, some you'll probably stay in touch with but whatever it is, its often a day or 2, maybe as long as a week and then its on to meet the new.
As the clocked started ticking well into the night I was still up and meeting new people already. Deg had met a couple of girls while I was with Nea and was now introducing me. I, apparently was married to one of them. A story created to get a creep who'd been pestering them off their backs. It seemed to work and in the mean time the 4 of us got on well enough to half arrange doing something the following day.
Tuesday 12 June 2007
The Bootie, The Beer and The Bouncer
Tracy arrived at the hostel around 7.45pm and we sped off into town taking a few scenic routes along the way. Some of the views of Boston were pretty impressive but unfortunately it wasn't possible to just stop in the middle of the road to take a photo! Still, I had my little guided tour before we pulled up (struggling to find somewhere to park) and walked to the bar she'd chosen.
Normally making a beer drinking decision is pretty easy, however this was not the case here. Sat at the bar, to my right I noticed a wall full of beer taps giving you the option of some 60 plus beers on tap and a further 100 or so by the bottle. I didn't even know where to begin. At home its normally a choice or 2 or 3 lagers or a selection of 2-3 ales and that's it. I honestly didn't have a clue so turned to Tracy and the barman for a little pointer.
I wound up with a pint of blueberry beer which I think sounds far worse than it actually tasted. Bot so much blueberry coloured or particularly strong in the fruity flavour department it was a lager with blueberries floating up and down inside it. Quite bizarre but actually pretty tasty.
Blueberry beer drinking experienced and food now eaten it was time to liven things up a bit. Tracy had a friend DJing at a club across the street so we agreed to go spend the rest of the night in there. Our plans however we scuppered by an annoying bouncer and some ludicrous Mass. State laws. I was denied entry to the club for not having correct ID. Now here in Massachusetts they will only accept an instate drivers licence or passport. Now, I'm not a lo9cal so that means its passport or nothing and be blowed if I'm carrying the single most important document I have around with me on a drunken night out!! I had many other forms of ID including my picture drivers licence but the bouncer who could clearly see I wasn't under 21 denied me entry even though he knew Tracy. Not saying its the bouncers fault but it was one of those moments that makes me think how idiotic some of the laws are in the US. They're so self centred its untrue! LIFE DOES EXIST OUTSIDE OF YOUR COUNTRY YOU KNOW!!
I could sense Tracy wasn't too happy but maybe that was half due to the amount of alcohol that she'd consumed through the night. I wont say how much, just that I thought it was somewhat excessive for someone who was driving! It seems the drink drive thing isn't played up in any where near the same manner as it home. Somehow here it seems accepted and part of life whereas back in the UK its something that is driven into you from a young age.
We decided to try our luck at another place out in Cambridge where Tracy new the bouncer and gave him a quick call to see if he would let us in. Unfortunately it wasn't him on the door when we got there and I fully expected to be rejected, at 28, from a bar for the 2nd time that night. However things went our way and my drivers licence was enough to secure ourselves a spot inside.
The club was typically cheesy with some songs you wouldn't even dare play at home now but the crowd here seemed to lap it up and Tracy not wanting to be outdone by Kathryn and Rachel and the babies bottle in New York had me up dancing on the tables! Brilliant fun!
Maybe in the end it worked out for the best. I was comfortable in a club like this, not too big, bit of cheesy music, some good indie tunes as well, good company, some nice beer and a whole lot of singing and dancing! Tracy dropped me back at the hostel which must have been a bit out of her way but was hugely appreciated and I knew the morning wouldn't exactly bring the earliest of starts!
Normally making a beer drinking decision is pretty easy, however this was not the case here. Sat at the bar, to my right I noticed a wall full of beer taps giving you the option of some 60 plus beers on tap and a further 100 or so by the bottle. I didn't even know where to begin. At home its normally a choice or 2 or 3 lagers or a selection of 2-3 ales and that's it. I honestly didn't have a clue so turned to Tracy and the barman for a little pointer.
I wound up with a pint of blueberry beer which I think sounds far worse than it actually tasted. Bot so much blueberry coloured or particularly strong in the fruity flavour department it was a lager with blueberries floating up and down inside it. Quite bizarre but actually pretty tasty.
Blueberry beer drinking experienced and food now eaten it was time to liven things up a bit. Tracy had a friend DJing at a club across the street so we agreed to go spend the rest of the night in there. Our plans however we scuppered by an annoying bouncer and some ludicrous Mass. State laws. I was denied entry to the club for not having correct ID. Now here in Massachusetts they will only accept an instate drivers licence or passport. Now, I'm not a lo9cal so that means its passport or nothing and be blowed if I'm carrying the single most important document I have around with me on a drunken night out!! I had many other forms of ID including my picture drivers licence but the bouncer who could clearly see I wasn't under 21 denied me entry even though he knew Tracy. Not saying its the bouncers fault but it was one of those moments that makes me think how idiotic some of the laws are in the US. They're so self centred its untrue! LIFE DOES EXIST OUTSIDE OF YOUR COUNTRY YOU KNOW!!
I could sense Tracy wasn't too happy but maybe that was half due to the amount of alcohol that she'd consumed through the night. I wont say how much, just that I thought it was somewhat excessive for someone who was driving! It seems the drink drive thing isn't played up in any where near the same manner as it home. Somehow here it seems accepted and part of life whereas back in the UK its something that is driven into you from a young age.
We decided to try our luck at another place out in Cambridge where Tracy new the bouncer and gave him a quick call to see if he would let us in. Unfortunately it wasn't him on the door when we got there and I fully expected to be rejected, at 28, from a bar for the 2nd time that night. However things went our way and my drivers licence was enough to secure ourselves a spot inside.
The club was typically cheesy with some songs you wouldn't even dare play at home now but the crowd here seemed to lap it up and Tracy not wanting to be outdone by Kathryn and Rachel and the babies bottle in New York had me up dancing on the tables! Brilliant fun!
Maybe in the end it worked out for the best. I was comfortable in a club like this, not too big, bit of cheesy music, some good indie tunes as well, good company, some nice beer and a whole lot of singing and dancing! Tracy dropped me back at the hostel which must have been a bit out of her way but was hugely appreciated and I knew the morning wouldn't exactly bring the earliest of starts!
Friday 8 June 2007
Buying a Brolly in Boston!
I'd been told whilst I was in New York that up Boston way they'd been experiencing some of the worst rains in years.. Was I worried about this? No, of course not! I mean, I'm English, we're used to the rain. This it seems was not ample preparation for what was about to hit me.
I'd arrived in the centre of town after navigating my way on the bus and subway before guessing my way from Haymarket station to where I ended up in Quincy Market. One of Boston's most famous landmarks was in reality, nothing more than a big food hall. Disappointed probably didn't cover it! Outside Quincy Market was where I first locked eyes on the red brick line of the Freedom Trail, marked out as route that takes in several of the important buildings around independence time. I was beginning to realise that without a map or guidebook of any description I had no idea which way to follow the red line or indeed what any of the buildings actually were! A quick stop in Borders fixed that, I had become the proud owner of the cheapest guide book in the world "Top 10 Boston".
So as I stepped out of Borders, guidebook in hand the skies just emptied! Within a few seconds I was soaked. Scrabbling to try and work out my best course of action I almost bumped into a man selling brollies. Now I'm not a bug umbrella fan, they're annoying, get in the way of others and always get ruined within about 5 minutes, still needs must so I shelled out the $5 an went on my merry way taking cover in Mass. State House.
After going through the various security checks I found myself alone and free to wonder. It was a strange feeling, there were so few tourists around, I bumped into more people that actually seemed to be working there that I had to question if I was really supposed to be here or in certain parts of the building. No one told me to leave so I continued walking and snapping until boredom and an urge to see if the rains had abated got the better of me.
The rain had abated enough for me to continue walking down Beacon Street to go grab a beer in the Original Cheers bar. Inside its completely different of course but I still had to stop off an enjoy a pint of Sam Adams (what else?!) before continuing on my way.
Rain had turned to sun as the afternoon crept on and the new beams of warmth had given me the desire to walk the freedom trail. Now with guidebook in hand, things were a lot easier. I'd found my way to the starting point and managed the first 8 of the 11 suggested places along the way. Not too bad I say, and I feel now far more educated in the Boston Tea Party and such like than I ever was before.
Culture done it was time for a good night out! Fortunately for me a friend who lives here in Boston had got hold of me in the afternoon, saying she'd come and pick me up at the hostel later. Brilliant, time to get back, shower and relax a little before the night ahead!
I'd arrived in the centre of town after navigating my way on the bus and subway before guessing my way from Haymarket station to where I ended up in Quincy Market. One of Boston's most famous landmarks was in reality, nothing more than a big food hall. Disappointed probably didn't cover it! Outside Quincy Market was where I first locked eyes on the red brick line of the Freedom Trail, marked out as route that takes in several of the important buildings around independence time. I was beginning to realise that without a map or guidebook of any description I had no idea which way to follow the red line or indeed what any of the buildings actually were! A quick stop in Borders fixed that, I had become the proud owner of the cheapest guide book in the world "Top 10 Boston".
So as I stepped out of Borders, guidebook in hand the skies just emptied! Within a few seconds I was soaked. Scrabbling to try and work out my best course of action I almost bumped into a man selling brollies. Now I'm not a bug umbrella fan, they're annoying, get in the way of others and always get ruined within about 5 minutes, still needs must so I shelled out the $5 an went on my merry way taking cover in Mass. State House.
After going through the various security checks I found myself alone and free to wonder. It was a strange feeling, there were so few tourists around, I bumped into more people that actually seemed to be working there that I had to question if I was really supposed to be here or in certain parts of the building. No one told me to leave so I continued walking and snapping until boredom and an urge to see if the rains had abated got the better of me.
The rain had abated enough for me to continue walking down Beacon Street to go grab a beer in the Original Cheers bar. Inside its completely different of course but I still had to stop off an enjoy a pint of Sam Adams (what else?!) before continuing on my way.
Rain had turned to sun as the afternoon crept on and the new beams of warmth had given me the desire to walk the freedom trail. Now with guidebook in hand, things were a lot easier. I'd found my way to the starting point and managed the first 8 of the 11 suggested places along the way. Not too bad I say, and I feel now far more educated in the Boston Tea Party and such like than I ever was before.
Culture done it was time for a good night out! Fortunately for me a friend who lives here in Boston had got hold of me in the afternoon, saying she'd come and pick me up at the hostel later. Brilliant, time to get back, shower and relax a little before the night ahead!
Thursday 7 June 2007
The "Local"
The Prescott was a funny ol' hostel. Located way out of town in what appeared to be a quintessential slice of American suburbia know as Everett it was the oddest place to have a hostel. American hostels are unlike anywhere else I've been. They're few and far between, Major cities having just a splattering (for example, Boston and Chicago both have a grand total of 3 each), compared to somewhere like Barcelona where the choices number over 70 and unlike their European counterparts, tend to be well away from the action.
The hostel itself was actually pretty nice, decent bathroom, free Internet, a comfy TV area and so on but its poor location really let it down. The "5 minute bus journey" that we'd had to take from the station to the hostel had been more like 20 minutes and those buses would stop running at midnight making a proper night out on the town almost impossible.
After grabbing some pizza with the 3 Scots we went in search of a bar. The man running the hostel had told us there was a bar next door, "it looks like a church but just knock on the door and they'll let you in". Ok, seemed reasonable enough, right. Only problem, it WAS a church! We knocked and poked our head round the door only to find 4 old men sat round what looked like an old school dinner table drinking beer from cans. This, we decided, wasn't for us! It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and something I really never wanted to see again!
Apparently Everett is rather lacking in the bar department. After walking around the streets, one end to the other for about 15 minutes we eventually came across a Chinese restaurant...with a bar attached! There were a few people scattered around the tables and some spare seats at the bar which we took up. A couple of beers later and they were already calling time, the bar eventually closing at the ungodly hour of 10.30pm. An early night was probably needed anyway!
The hostel itself was actually pretty nice, decent bathroom, free Internet, a comfy TV area and so on but its poor location really let it down. The "5 minute bus journey" that we'd had to take from the station to the hostel had been more like 20 minutes and those buses would stop running at midnight making a proper night out on the town almost impossible.
After grabbing some pizza with the 3 Scots we went in search of a bar. The man running the hostel had told us there was a bar next door, "it looks like a church but just knock on the door and they'll let you in". Ok, seemed reasonable enough, right. Only problem, it WAS a church! We knocked and poked our head round the door only to find 4 old men sat round what looked like an old school dinner table drinking beer from cans. This, we decided, wasn't for us! It was like nothing I'd ever seen before, and something I really never wanted to see again!
Apparently Everett is rather lacking in the bar department. After walking around the streets, one end to the other for about 15 minutes we eventually came across a Chinese restaurant...with a bar attached! There were a few people scattered around the tables and some spare seats at the bar which we took up. A couple of beers later and they were already calling time, the bar eventually closing at the ungodly hour of 10.30pm. An early night was probably needed anyway!
Wednesday 6 June 2007
Goodbye New York, Hello Boston!
Leaving New York behind was in a sense leaving behind the last piece of familiarity. Now it was all uncharted territory for me. The adventure was about to get going for real.
My nervousness about missing my transport had kicked in as usual this morning and arriving at Penn Station I had over an hour to spare. This had been the moment I had dreamt of since departing New York back in 2003. I lost count of the number of times I would sit and think about just getting to the train station and going on somewhere else, anywhere else, just going, moving from place to place at my own free will. This was that moment. It felt as good as I'd always hoped it would be!
Maybe I was daydreaming about being here or maybe I just missed the announcement but in the end I made my train with just 4 minutes spare. Settled into a window seat, music plugged into my ears I was ready for the 4 or so hour trip to Beantown. The magic of New York just slaps you round the face as you leave, the skyline in all its glittering beauty! Its a sight that just reminds you what an incredible City New York is.
When I first came to New York I remember vividly the scene of seeing the City, seeing Manhattan for the first time as we were in the taxi from JFK to our hotel. I recall that moment in all its glory as I looked down upon a dazzling display of high rises, an immense City. The Big Apple.
Now here I was looking again, from a different angle, at the majesty of Manhattan. The sheer scale of it is something to behold. Once you're in it that feeling goes away. You're immersed within and cant gain the same perspective on it. I knew of course that New York is a one of a kind, that other places in the US are going to be different. Heck, it would be kind of dull if they were all the same, but still, it was a sad goodbye.
The journey upto Boston took us through Connecticut and Rhode Island before arriving in Massachusetts. The scenery along the way reminded me of Dawsons Creek. Little harbours, quaint towns set on the waterside. I wished I could have got out to see some of these places. I decided I'd love to drive up here and onto Maine one day but that would be a trip in itself!
Arriving in Boston I set about the arduous task of figuring out the Subway system. Should be easy you would think. I mean I lived in London for 6 years, I used the tube every day, how hard can it be? Lets just say that before you even Begin you have to figure out if you need a token or a paper ticket or both. They couldn't make it all the same could they!
Whilst I was busy at the machine trying to work it all out I bumped into non other than the Famous Scots. They, it seemed, had planned to go to Washington but couldn't find accommodation so instead were now in Boston. Where were they planning to stay? Oh yeah, the Prescott International Hostel, that'll be the same one as me then.
Only upon finding our way there did we realise just how far the place was away from town. I had originally planned on staying in the HI but they were fully booked so with a choice of just 2 other hostels left in Boston, that's why I was here. The place is a couple of subway lines and a bus journey away, only by chance did we actually get the right stop on the bus as well! That could have been a LOT worse as I would later find out!
My nervousness about missing my transport had kicked in as usual this morning and arriving at Penn Station I had over an hour to spare. This had been the moment I had dreamt of since departing New York back in 2003. I lost count of the number of times I would sit and think about just getting to the train station and going on somewhere else, anywhere else, just going, moving from place to place at my own free will. This was that moment. It felt as good as I'd always hoped it would be!
Maybe I was daydreaming about being here or maybe I just missed the announcement but in the end I made my train with just 4 minutes spare. Settled into a window seat, music plugged into my ears I was ready for the 4 or so hour trip to Beantown. The magic of New York just slaps you round the face as you leave, the skyline in all its glittering beauty! Its a sight that just reminds you what an incredible City New York is.
When I first came to New York I remember vividly the scene of seeing the City, seeing Manhattan for the first time as we were in the taxi from JFK to our hotel. I recall that moment in all its glory as I looked down upon a dazzling display of high rises, an immense City. The Big Apple.
Now here I was looking again, from a different angle, at the majesty of Manhattan. The sheer scale of it is something to behold. Once you're in it that feeling goes away. You're immersed within and cant gain the same perspective on it. I knew of course that New York is a one of a kind, that other places in the US are going to be different. Heck, it would be kind of dull if they were all the same, but still, it was a sad goodbye.
The journey upto Boston took us through Connecticut and Rhode Island before arriving in Massachusetts. The scenery along the way reminded me of Dawsons Creek. Little harbours, quaint towns set on the waterside. I wished I could have got out to see some of these places. I decided I'd love to drive up here and onto Maine one day but that would be a trip in itself!
Arriving in Boston I set about the arduous task of figuring out the Subway system. Should be easy you would think. I mean I lived in London for 6 years, I used the tube every day, how hard can it be? Lets just say that before you even Begin you have to figure out if you need a token or a paper ticket or both. They couldn't make it all the same could they!
Whilst I was busy at the machine trying to work it all out I bumped into non other than the Famous Scots. They, it seemed, had planned to go to Washington but couldn't find accommodation so instead were now in Boston. Where were they planning to stay? Oh yeah, the Prescott International Hostel, that'll be the same one as me then.
Only upon finding our way there did we realise just how far the place was away from town. I had originally planned on staying in the HI but they were fully booked so with a choice of just 2 other hostels left in Boston, that's why I was here. The place is a couple of subway lines and a bus journey away, only by chance did we actually get the right stop on the bus as well! That could have been a LOT worse as I would later find out!
Every Picture Tells A Story
My time in New York was flying past, I was having a great time, met some top people and had already seen a decent amount of what I'd wanted. Following a lazy day, hiding from the miserable weather, it was time to have another go at a museum. My first experience hadn't been the greatest but now at least I was going to where I had originally planned - The Metropolitan Museum of Art. Known generally as the Met, its possibly the single biggest indoor attraction in New York!
I wouldn't be going alone this time either. A night spent down the Irish Bar around the corner from the hostel had found me chatting to a very beautiful Finnish girl called Pilvi. I might have had trouble pronouncing her name but it didn't stop us getting on well. Consequently we had arranged to meet in the morning to go visit the Met together. Good as her word she was there on time and we set about finding the place.
Located up on 82nd and 5th it was a good subway trip away but boy was it worth it! Unlike the MOMA its a recommended admission so we both payed the student price of $10 instead of the full $20. Its worth every last dime as well! The place reminded me a lot of the British Museum in London. An eclectic mix of art and history. Together we spent a good few hours wondering around taking in some priceless works of art, names familiar (Rembrandts, Van Goghs, Monets) and not.
As we continued around, becoming dazzled and somewhat dazed with the amazing collection a source of amusement was growing between the two of us in the form of the painting titles. Childish and immature humour was ruling the roost as we began trying to name the pictures. Strange you may be thinking, and you'd be right but when you see a picture of a woman with a basket and the pictures is called "Woman with basket" you'll get the idea of the game. Somehow I don't think the place would have been the same without the company I had though.
We wound up walking back to the hostel. Yes, you heard me right the first time, its on 82nd and 5th. Some 60 blocks from where we were staying. Still a walk down through Central Park and back through Times Square, stopping for a slice or 2 of fine New York Pizza along the way and we were back home ready for a well earned rest!
That evening I'd put aside for an early one. I had a train to catch to Boston in the morning and had been a busy man for the last few days. This IS New York though and no one is going to let you get away with things THAT easily. I ended up being almost forcibly dragged to the bar that night. It was late, I was tired and I was honestly having trouble keeping my eyes open. I stayed for the one drink, then bolted for bed as fast as I could!
I wouldn't be going alone this time either. A night spent down the Irish Bar around the corner from the hostel had found me chatting to a very beautiful Finnish girl called Pilvi. I might have had trouble pronouncing her name but it didn't stop us getting on well. Consequently we had arranged to meet in the morning to go visit the Met together. Good as her word she was there on time and we set about finding the place.
Located up on 82nd and 5th it was a good subway trip away but boy was it worth it! Unlike the MOMA its a recommended admission so we both payed the student price of $10 instead of the full $20. Its worth every last dime as well! The place reminded me a lot of the British Museum in London. An eclectic mix of art and history. Together we spent a good few hours wondering around taking in some priceless works of art, names familiar (Rembrandts, Van Goghs, Monets) and not.
As we continued around, becoming dazzled and somewhat dazed with the amazing collection a source of amusement was growing between the two of us in the form of the painting titles. Childish and immature humour was ruling the roost as we began trying to name the pictures. Strange you may be thinking, and you'd be right but when you see a picture of a woman with a basket and the pictures is called "Woman with basket" you'll get the idea of the game. Somehow I don't think the place would have been the same without the company I had though.
We wound up walking back to the hostel. Yes, you heard me right the first time, its on 82nd and 5th. Some 60 blocks from where we were staying. Still a walk down through Central Park and back through Times Square, stopping for a slice or 2 of fine New York Pizza along the way and we were back home ready for a well earned rest!
That evening I'd put aside for an early one. I had a train to catch to Boston in the morning and had been a busy man for the last few days. This IS New York though and no one is going to let you get away with things THAT easily. I ended up being almost forcibly dragged to the bar that night. It was late, I was tired and I was honestly having trouble keeping my eyes open. I stayed for the one drink, then bolted for bed as fast as I could!
Tuesday 5 June 2007
The Sunburnt Cow
A bar with no name. Its the sort of thing you see in the movies or read about in books but you never imagine yourself in one of these joints. It had actually happened to me once before in London, when one night crawling around Soho looking for a place to get a drink at 3am we were invited into a building that you would never imagine was a bar and would never be able to find again even if someone gave you a map! That night we wound up in a cool jazz club, tonight was different.
I'd met up with Kathryn and Rachel again as planned and shared a few drinks down in the East Village before they decided to take me on a little trip to Alphabet City. Once one of New York's most dangerous areas (and still is east of D according to the girls) the area has transformed itself into a trendy bar area, vibrant and full of odd characters, haunting and mesmerizing all at the same time.
We wound up at a bar somewhere around 9th and C, no name was apparent anywhere outside or in although it was hardly hidden in the depths. On our arrival we were greeted with a free shot, served rather bizarrely from a babies bottle. For a moment we all stood there in amazement, wondering if what we were seeing was indeed real. Rachel, getting a sneaky look on her face proceeded to call the barman over. "My friend here, he's from London and he needs a story for when he gets home, can he drink from the bottle?"
Moments later, unbelievably, the barman was filling up one of these bottles (we noticed several in the fridge) with whatever shot type mixture it was, proceeded to put a hole in the top and chucked it down the bar at me. How could I say no?!
It was cool to sit there, relaxing and chatting after a hard days sightseeing. I'd wanted to get to the Met but they were closed so I ended up at the Moma, any attempt to avoid the pouring rain really. New York's Museum of Modern Art is exactly what it says. If you don't like the ultra modern stuff then there really isn't a lot here for you. I think Van Goghs's "Starry Night" was about the only thing in there actually worth a mention. For the excessive $20 entrance I was more than just a little disappointed.
I'd gone on from there to catch up on another of those things I didn't get round to doing first time here; Strawberry Fields. I'd made a brief appearance at Central Park back in 2003 but hadn't delved into it at all. This time round I made sure to go for a good walk around, making the most of the drier state of affairs that the afternoon had become. At the Lennon memorial, the light strumming of a guitar coupled with the steady rustle of people coming up to pay their respects gave the place an ambiance kept for only a given few. I could have sat there all day, just drifting in an out of thought.
The busy day was now far behind as the beers rolled by one after another, interspersed with a blast on the babies bottle. During the course of the evening we had been noticing a rather Bobine theme to the place and eventually had to ask what it was all about. According to the barman, the place is actually called the Sunburnt Cow after an incident involving the owner and his 4 legged friend. I guess sucking on the teat made a little more sense now (not much, just a little).
The evening was finished off in style at the chippy. No ordinary chippy though. More gourmet chips. A choice of over 100 sauces could accompany your potato chunks in several different way. My layered curry chips hit the spot perfectly! New York's not all about Pizza and Pastrami you know!
I'd met up with Kathryn and Rachel again as planned and shared a few drinks down in the East Village before they decided to take me on a little trip to Alphabet City. Once one of New York's most dangerous areas (and still is east of D according to the girls) the area has transformed itself into a trendy bar area, vibrant and full of odd characters, haunting and mesmerizing all at the same time.
We wound up at a bar somewhere around 9th and C, no name was apparent anywhere outside or in although it was hardly hidden in the depths. On our arrival we were greeted with a free shot, served rather bizarrely from a babies bottle. For a moment we all stood there in amazement, wondering if what we were seeing was indeed real. Rachel, getting a sneaky look on her face proceeded to call the barman over. "My friend here, he's from London and he needs a story for when he gets home, can he drink from the bottle?"
Moments later, unbelievably, the barman was filling up one of these bottles (we noticed several in the fridge) with whatever shot type mixture it was, proceeded to put a hole in the top and chucked it down the bar at me. How could I say no?!
It was cool to sit there, relaxing and chatting after a hard days sightseeing. I'd wanted to get to the Met but they were closed so I ended up at the Moma, any attempt to avoid the pouring rain really. New York's Museum of Modern Art is exactly what it says. If you don't like the ultra modern stuff then there really isn't a lot here for you. I think Van Goghs's "Starry Night" was about the only thing in there actually worth a mention. For the excessive $20 entrance I was more than just a little disappointed.
I'd gone on from there to catch up on another of those things I didn't get round to doing first time here; Strawberry Fields. I'd made a brief appearance at Central Park back in 2003 but hadn't delved into it at all. This time round I made sure to go for a good walk around, making the most of the drier state of affairs that the afternoon had become. At the Lennon memorial, the light strumming of a guitar coupled with the steady rustle of people coming up to pay their respects gave the place an ambiance kept for only a given few. I could have sat there all day, just drifting in an out of thought.
The busy day was now far behind as the beers rolled by one after another, interspersed with a blast on the babies bottle. During the course of the evening we had been noticing a rather Bobine theme to the place and eventually had to ask what it was all about. According to the barman, the place is actually called the Sunburnt Cow after an incident involving the owner and his 4 legged friend. I guess sucking on the teat made a little more sense now (not much, just a little).
The evening was finished off in style at the chippy. No ordinary chippy though. More gourmet chips. A choice of over 100 sauces could accompany your potato chunks in several different way. My layered curry chips hit the spot perfectly! New York's not all about Pizza and Pastrami you know!
Take Me Out To The Ballgame
I came here for a game in 2003 and saw Roger Clemens win his 300th game and collect his 4000 strikeout in the same game against my beloved Cardinals. Quite the game for my first ever! Now I was back! Back in 2003 I have felt that the game I was watching might just be the only time i ever got to see a live MLB game. I savoured every moment, was amongst the last to leave the stadium that day and wished i was going to see more. It might not be the same series, or even the same year but I was back!
A big part of this trip for me was about watching baseball. The US portion of things had more or less been defined with when the Cardinals were playing at home and tickets for 3 games at Busch stadium had been purchased before I'd even left home. I wasn't just about watching the Redbirds though. I wanted to go and visit some of the great stadiums, let the history of the places surround me as I was there.
I was getting my first chance to take it all that in now. The House that Ruth Built, where Jo D played, Where Mantle would have strolled on a daily basis and now, where ARod and Jeter were ruling their own roost. I'd seen Clemens pitch last time I was here, now I was getting teh chance to watch another future Hall of Famer in the Big Unit, Randy Johnson. To top it all off, he would be facing the man I had been collecting cards of since his young days as a Cardinals, Dan Haren.
I had gone along to the game with 3 others from the hostel and found out as we arrived there that we could only get tickets together in the bleachers. a little disappointed we accepted it all and payed our money. Following a near death experience with a stadium hotdog we found ourselves in the pre-game bar just outside the stadium. Enjoy a Bud a woman caught our attention. She had 4 tickets to the game that she couldn't use. They were ours if we wanted them. "How much?" we asked. "Oh, nothing. I cant sell them, they're yours, take them." she replied. That'll be The story of how we ended up NOT in the bleachers but with tickets behind home plate!
I remember so little about the actual game. Haren outpitched The Big Unit and Oakland took it 6-1. I couldn't tell you who hit the rbi, who scored the runs or anything like that now. I can tell you that I had a thoroughly great time though. After all its about the event, the atmosphere, the just "being" at a ball game that makes it so cherished.
A big part of this trip for me was about watching baseball. The US portion of things had more or less been defined with when the Cardinals were playing at home and tickets for 3 games at Busch stadium had been purchased before I'd even left home. I wasn't just about watching the Redbirds though. I wanted to go and visit some of the great stadiums, let the history of the places surround me as I was there.
I was getting my first chance to take it all that in now. The House that Ruth Built, where Jo D played, Where Mantle would have strolled on a daily basis and now, where ARod and Jeter were ruling their own roost. I'd seen Clemens pitch last time I was here, now I was getting teh chance to watch another future Hall of Famer in the Big Unit, Randy Johnson. To top it all off, he would be facing the man I had been collecting cards of since his young days as a Cardinals, Dan Haren.
I had gone along to the game with 3 others from the hostel and found out as we arrived there that we could only get tickets together in the bleachers. a little disappointed we accepted it all and payed our money. Following a near death experience with a stadium hotdog we found ourselves in the pre-game bar just outside the stadium. Enjoy a Bud a woman caught our attention. She had 4 tickets to the game that she couldn't use. They were ours if we wanted them. "How much?" we asked. "Oh, nothing. I cant sell them, they're yours, take them." she replied. That'll be The story of how we ended up NOT in the bleachers but with tickets behind home plate!
I remember so little about the actual game. Haren outpitched The Big Unit and Oakland took it 6-1. I couldn't tell you who hit the rbi, who scored the runs or anything like that now. I can tell you that I had a thoroughly great time though. After all its about the event, the atmosphere, the just "being" at a ball game that makes it so cherished.
Monday 4 June 2007
The Famous Incident of The Three Scots
The evening had been spent meeting my first Booties of the trip in a place called the Peculiar Pub down in Greenwich Village. Kathryn and Rachel, both of whom call New York City home, were absolutely lovely. Typical Booties in every way, full of conversation and very welcoming.
Between us we sampled several of the 100+ beers on the menu at the Peculiar. Initially being issued with a list of countries. Under each country, a selection of their finest! Who could resist a round the world beer night! I forget some of the beers I tried that night, although I know I sampled Dos Equis, a Mexican favourite here in the US, for the first time.
We agreed to meet again before I headed off to Boston and with them both having work in the morning we departed at a decent hour. I wound up back at the hostel and joined a bunch back there for a few more beers and in doing so wound up agreeing to go catch the Yankees game tomorrow! I was positively buzzing when I went to bed!
My satisfying sleep was broken however by the return to my dorm of the 3 Scottish guys staying there. Now, its a hostel, a dorm room in the heart of Manhattan, you EXPECT there to be some noise. That kinda comes with the territory. What you DON'T expect is to witness Chelsea International Hostel's first ever Pukeathon.
Around 4am the three lads returned, unknown to me at the time was that they were celebrating a birthday, so a few minutes later there's a fair bit of crashing going on, someone walking into a wall, crashing on the floor and then someone letting loose the nights beer in the bathroom. Within a couple of minutes I can hear the oh so pleasant sound of yakking coming from just outside our front door. 2 of them, in tandem now.
Moments later and there's a third puking noise joining the other 2. But, hold on, so this one isn't coming from outside, it isn't coming from the bathroom but it IS coming from nearby. Yep, Scotsmen number 3 is giving the bedsheets a beautiful coating of carrots and peas. In unison then the 3 set about their pukathon leaving me trying not to join them as I'm struggling to push away the stench that's now circulating!
I did fall to sleep in the end of course, the puking did stop and the boys were busy cleaning when I awoke. The story though would NOT die. That would live on, already doing the rounds in the hostel before I had even surfaced. I hope one day I'll go back and someone will tell me about the famous incident of the three Scots!
Between us we sampled several of the 100+ beers on the menu at the Peculiar. Initially being issued with a list of countries. Under each country, a selection of their finest! Who could resist a round the world beer night! I forget some of the beers I tried that night, although I know I sampled Dos Equis, a Mexican favourite here in the US, for the first time.
We agreed to meet again before I headed off to Boston and with them both having work in the morning we departed at a decent hour. I wound up back at the hostel and joined a bunch back there for a few more beers and in doing so wound up agreeing to go catch the Yankees game tomorrow! I was positively buzzing when I went to bed!
My satisfying sleep was broken however by the return to my dorm of the 3 Scottish guys staying there. Now, its a hostel, a dorm room in the heart of Manhattan, you EXPECT there to be some noise. That kinda comes with the territory. What you DON'T expect is to witness Chelsea International Hostel's first ever Pukeathon.
Around 4am the three lads returned, unknown to me at the time was that they were celebrating a birthday, so a few minutes later there's a fair bit of crashing going on, someone walking into a wall, crashing on the floor and then someone letting loose the nights beer in the bathroom. Within a couple of minutes I can hear the oh so pleasant sound of yakking coming from just outside our front door. 2 of them, in tandem now.
Moments later and there's a third puking noise joining the other 2. But, hold on, so this one isn't coming from outside, it isn't coming from the bathroom but it IS coming from nearby. Yep, Scotsmen number 3 is giving the bedsheets a beautiful coating of carrots and peas. In unison then the 3 set about their pukathon leaving me trying not to join them as I'm struggling to push away the stench that's now circulating!
I did fall to sleep in the end of course, the puking did stop and the boys were busy cleaning when I awoke. The story though would NOT die. That would live on, already doing the rounds in the hostel before I had even surfaced. I hope one day I'll go back and someone will tell me about the famous incident of the three Scots!
Friday 1 June 2007
The Cup Final!
Amongst last nights festivities I had found myself agreeing to go and watch the FA Cup Final with a bunch of people from the hostel first thing in the morning. This of course meant a bright and breezy start at around 9am. not too bad you may be thinking, but I'd only crossed the Atlantic yesterday, been awake for over 24 hours and had a fair few beers to boot. Still, energised by the trip and eager to get my hands on one of New York's finest bagels I was up and ready and out the door at 9.30am.
The plan was simple, go down to Greenwich Village, find one of the many bars showing the football, plant ourselves there and enjoy a nice morning Budweiser. Things, as were to often be the case, didn't quite go according to plan.
We found the bar one of the girls had said would have the footy on. It did, and it was ours to watch for a measly $20 each. We refused,m and quite rightly so I think, to pay what would combine to be $120 between the 6 of us just to plant our arses down. There would be other places showing it we'd just go find one of those.
We found plenty of bars, the ones not showing it couldn't and wouldn't get it (as it was a pay per view event) and every single one we found that was showing it wanted $20 a piece. Bargain! We walked around Greenwich Village, ended up in Times Square, even ESPNs Sports Bar were blissfully unaware of it even going on. Whilst we walked we kept in touch with the scoreline thanks to my mobile phone, witnessing what was one of THE games of the season from something worse than teletext!
With 5 minutes of the game remaining and Liverpool trailing by 3-2 we found an Irish Bar willing to let us in for free to see the remaining few minutes. It was straight to the bar for a round of Buds and sit back and soak it up for all of a few minutes. Except of course where there's a Steven Gerrard there's always hope. And so it came to pass that we got to watch extra time free of charge and never had footy and beer gone down so well together!
I split from the group for the afternoon and set about some sight seeing. I had done a lot of the major sights last time I was here so the pressure was largely off to get and see things as quickly as possible. I wanted to take my time and enjoy just perusing neighbourhoods and seeing some of the things I had missed out on in 2003.
I had planned a little sight seeing tour whilst at home that I set about that afternoon. It was down to Greenwich Village to try and located some of the significant buildings and bars associated wit Bob Dylan and on a different note, the beat poets I had become so fond of over the last few years. The tour largely centered on McDougal Street where many of the bars and such like were located. Some were easier to find than others. The Gaslight Cafe and Kettle of Fish seemed to have been turned into something else or were at least keeping their identities close to their chest. I had trouble locating the Fat Black Pussycat but maybe the same was true about it as well Cafe Wha? Where Bob Dylan first played when he arrived in New York was still there. On E13th ST I found where Allen Ginsburg once lived but didn't get down to the Cedar Street Tavern which once would have played host to Ginsburg and Kerouac.
The buildings may not have looked like much but just strolling around, taking in the the little nooks and crannies around the area and losing myself for a little while you could easily imagine the beat essence thriving in this place.
The remainder of the afternoon brought me back to more conventional sightseeing in the form of the Brooklyn Bridge. It seemed amazing to me over the past 3 years that I didn't do this last time and I sure as hell wasn't going to miss out this time round! New York's Subway system was doing its best too try and keep the two of us apart. From subway station to subway station I walked only finding the "Uptown" entrances! Seriously ,If they're that far apart, just a simple signpost would help! Eventually I did manage to get on the Subway and wound up at the Brooklyn Bridge stop (The first time it had assisted me all day!).
The views as you cross the Bridge are stunning. I don't think any picture I took can do it justice. I made sure to walk all the way over and into Brooklyn, although just stepping foot on the other side was enough for me. I had already done my share of walking for the day!
The plan was simple, go down to Greenwich Village, find one of the many bars showing the football, plant ourselves there and enjoy a nice morning Budweiser. Things, as were to often be the case, didn't quite go according to plan.
We found the bar one of the girls had said would have the footy on. It did, and it was ours to watch for a measly $20 each. We refused,m and quite rightly so I think, to pay what would combine to be $120 between the 6 of us just to plant our arses down. There would be other places showing it we'd just go find one of those.
We found plenty of bars, the ones not showing it couldn't and wouldn't get it (as it was a pay per view event) and every single one we found that was showing it wanted $20 a piece. Bargain! We walked around Greenwich Village, ended up in Times Square, even ESPNs Sports Bar were blissfully unaware of it even going on. Whilst we walked we kept in touch with the scoreline thanks to my mobile phone, witnessing what was one of THE games of the season from something worse than teletext!
With 5 minutes of the game remaining and Liverpool trailing by 3-2 we found an Irish Bar willing to let us in for free to see the remaining few minutes. It was straight to the bar for a round of Buds and sit back and soak it up for all of a few minutes. Except of course where there's a Steven Gerrard there's always hope. And so it came to pass that we got to watch extra time free of charge and never had footy and beer gone down so well together!
I split from the group for the afternoon and set about some sight seeing. I had done a lot of the major sights last time I was here so the pressure was largely off to get and see things as quickly as possible. I wanted to take my time and enjoy just perusing neighbourhoods and seeing some of the things I had missed out on in 2003.
I had planned a little sight seeing tour whilst at home that I set about that afternoon. It was down to Greenwich Village to try and located some of the significant buildings and bars associated wit Bob Dylan and on a different note, the beat poets I had become so fond of over the last few years. The tour largely centered on McDougal Street where many of the bars and such like were located. Some were easier to find than others. The Gaslight Cafe and Kettle of Fish seemed to have been turned into something else or were at least keeping their identities close to their chest. I had trouble locating the Fat Black Pussycat but maybe the same was true about it as well Cafe Wha? Where Bob Dylan first played when he arrived in New York was still there. On E13th ST I found where Allen Ginsburg once lived but didn't get down to the Cedar Street Tavern which once would have played host to Ginsburg and Kerouac.
The buildings may not have looked like much but just strolling around, taking in the the little nooks and crannies around the area and losing myself for a little while you could easily imagine the beat essence thriving in this place.
The remainder of the afternoon brought me back to more conventional sightseeing in the form of the Brooklyn Bridge. It seemed amazing to me over the past 3 years that I didn't do this last time and I sure as hell wasn't going to miss out this time round! New York's Subway system was doing its best too try and keep the two of us apart. From subway station to subway station I walked only finding the "Uptown" entrances! Seriously ,If they're that far apart, just a simple signpost would help! Eventually I did manage to get on the Subway and wound up at the Brooklyn Bridge stop (The first time it had assisted me all day!).
The views as you cross the Bridge are stunning. I don't think any picture I took can do it justice. I made sure to walk all the way over and into Brooklyn, although just stepping foot on the other side was enough for me. I had already done my share of walking for the day!
Beer and Baseball!
The Hostel turned out to be ideal in the end. A comfortable enough dorm room, nice communal areas and a great location on 20th between 7th and 8th. I had taken quite some time back at home deciding which hostel would be best for me in New York. With it being my first stop I wanted somewhere that would be good to meet people and a decent location which going by reviews the Chelsea International Hostel seemed ideal and, of course, it was.
Having arrived in the City early afternoon I couldn't resist the urge to get out there and re- familiarise myself with this great City. A walk up to the New Yorker (scene of my last visit here) and off around the Empire State Building vicinity brought everything flooding back. I knew already that I was going to have a great time here again, it just felt so right almost straight away
As the evening wore on I had decided to head out and find a quiet bar to have a beer or 2 in and catch up with some writing. With it being a Friday this sounds easier than it actually was! I'm not entirely sure how long I walked for but suffice to say I had gone at least as far as 14th Street and wound up back on 23rd at an Irish bar where I was able to grab a table, a beer and watch the Yankees take on the Athletics. This was the life!
Although it wasn't late, sometime around 9.30pm the day was starting to catch up with me. I decided to head back to the hostel and try and get a decent sleep so I wouldn't feel the jet lag come the morning. Things didn't quite go according to plan! I was, shall we say, sidetracked, by fellow inhabitants of the Chelsea and copious amounts of beer stacked on the outside tables. Needless to say, I couldn't resist the urge to chat to a few people and drink a few more beers!
I finally caved in at around 1.30am local time, essentially 6.30am back in England and had been up for over 24 hours now! Sleep was of paramount importance and I went to bed praying that the next week wouldn't be screwed up by me ignoring my own advice of an early night!
Having arrived in the City early afternoon I couldn't resist the urge to get out there and re- familiarise myself with this great City. A walk up to the New Yorker (scene of my last visit here) and off around the Empire State Building vicinity brought everything flooding back. I knew already that I was going to have a great time here again, it just felt so right almost straight away
As the evening wore on I had decided to head out and find a quiet bar to have a beer or 2 in and catch up with some writing. With it being a Friday this sounds easier than it actually was! I'm not entirely sure how long I walked for but suffice to say I had gone at least as far as 14th Street and wound up back on 23rd at an Irish bar where I was able to grab a table, a beer and watch the Yankees take on the Athletics. This was the life!
Although it wasn't late, sometime around 9.30pm the day was starting to catch up with me. I decided to head back to the hostel and try and get a decent sleep so I wouldn't feel the jet lag come the morning. Things didn't quite go according to plan! I was, shall we say, sidetracked, by fellow inhabitants of the Chelsea and copious amounts of beer stacked on the outside tables. Needless to say, I couldn't resist the urge to chat to a few people and drink a few more beers!
I finally caved in at around 1.30am local time, essentially 6.30am back in England and had been up for over 24 hours now! Sleep was of paramount importance and I went to bed praying that the next week wouldn't be screwed up by me ignoring my own advice of an early night!
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