On The Auditory Road

After what seemed like forever on the last Greyhound bus I would get on the trip going through he hellhole that is the American Mid-West I finally arrived back in New York. I felt a huge sense of relief that I was in the last city before home and the next two days were nothing but me waiting for that plane to arrive to take me back.

The first thing I did after I arrived was walk from Port Authority Bus Terminal to Greenwich Village where I grabbed myself a copy of The Onion and sat in a little park. After 5 minutes a young black male came up to me and asked how I was, after the first few minutes he asked if I’d like it if he gave me a blow job. I politely declined but he asked again stating that “It’s not gay if you don’t do anything back, you’ll love it.” I declined again and asked if he would leave me to read my paper.

I soon made my way over to Brooklyn on the L train where a lovely middle ages man named Tom had offered me a place to stay. We spent the afternoon talking about Kerouac and Buddhism and for dinner he made me Sloppy Joes.

The next morning (after sleeping on a park bench he had in his studio) I said goodbye but Tom insisted I meet his friends upstairs, I had a few minutes spare so I agreed. After knocking on the door a nudist answered it in all his glory, Tom apologised for not warning me in advance and we parted.

I very quickly made my way to Newark airport via the train and hoped that I would get away on time. A volcano was playing havoc with the airspace over Europe and flights were being cancelled left, right and centre. I turned out to be one of the very fortunate ones who got away on my original plane.

It was all over, I’d gone from East to West and back with detours to both Mexico and Canada, I had traveled an entire continent and that was it, the season was over, it was time to go home to real life and to rest. 

I rode through to night past Tennessee and Kentucky to Illinois back to Chicago where I’d been offered a place to stay for a month in the Archer Ballroom where I’d stayed two months previously. I was pretty tired from everything that had happened and wanted somewhere more like home to rest my head.

After the first couple of days I met a wonderful girl named Emily near the Bean and we went for coffee. After coffee neither of us wanted to separate and I was invited back to her house where we spent the night watching The Big Lebowski and talking about my trip and how beautiful I thought she was.

From this time we were nigh-on inseparable and spent nearly all of our time together, this turned out to be the case for the last three weeks I was in Chicago. On the most part we just hung out like old friends and slowly became best friends and then lovers.

As a final treat Emily offered to drive me around Lake Michigan, go camping on the Upper Peninsula and quickly pop into Canada. It sounded perfect and so I agreed, the reality ended up being very different to what I had expected.

Everything started out fine driving through Wisconsin, going to charity shops and buying local cheeses and dried meat. Everything went wrong when we ended up having a huge argument about absolutely nothing and we both sulked all the way to the camping ground.

We begrudgingly built a fire together and put up the tent, both of which took far too long and it became dark well before completion. When we did, eventually, lie down in the tent together Emily begged me to hold her but I refused to unless she promised we could be together again, she decided this was a fine deal and we spent a freezing cold night together in the woods with Coyote’s howling in the background.

In the morning I woke up and took a walk along the beautiful sandy beach atop Lake Michigan and breathed in some of the freshest air I’ve ever experienced. After packing up Emily started us on our way to Canada, getting stopped 30 minutes down the road because she was driving 75 in a 55 zone and performing an illegal u-turn in front of a cop who then proceeded to confiscate her driving license; her only formal ID.

We did get into Canada eventually after much discussion between the two different border controls. It was just as cold and, as it was a Sunday nothing was open; we bought some Wendy’s hamburgers and drove back to Chicago.

We spent the last couple of days exclusively together and I was endlessly sad about leaving my new found love but extremely excited to be leaving the country. England was calling and only New York stood in its way.

Due to a tip from my old road dog Conan I decided to head to Asheville, North Carolina; he said that is was a lovely town where the people were very liberal and open minded and was certain I would enjoy myself there especially after such a long time traveling, he hadn’t done me wrong before so I remembered this and now was the time to go. I hoped it was as pretty and relaxing as he had made it sound.

So it was time for another greyhound adventure and it didn’t start well. I got to the bus terminal 45 minutes before my bus left so I had plenty of time to get a ticket apparently this isn’t really sufficient enough time as I had to run after the bus that had already part left and which, at first, the bus driven wouldn’t let me on but eventually I took my seat and wanted to do nothing else but sleep my time away getting out from the grottiness that is Atlanta as quickly as possible.

I awoke to change buses at Knoxville, Tennessee and buy myself some Cola before boarding the new bus and once aboard fell straight back to sleep.

I waited an hour for my couchsurfing host to come and pick me up and spent my time looking up at a small house perched in the hill opposite the tiny bus station I was dropped off at and wondering whether in a couple of years time with some erosion that house would just fall straight into the road. Zach finally arrived in an SUV (Which he was very excited about driving as it wasn’t actually his it was his girlfriend’s) and drove me back to his quaint little bungalow on the outskirts where he, his girlfriend Molly and house mate Andrea lived.

I explained that I really wasn’t that bothered as to what I did that day as I was pretty fed up of traveling by this point and it would be nice to just relax for a couple of days which they were fine with. The first thing we did was have a nice little walk with Molly’s dog Abby who is absolutely adorable and reminded me endlessly of my ex’s dog Bella who is now sadly gone from this world, I say nice walk, it was except for the fact my trashed canvas shoes (which by now had big holes in the soles) made it slightly painful to walk.

Zach then took Molly to school and drove me around town showing me a few different places of interest, we got coffee at Izzy’s (one of two, this one was in a converted (sort of) house and afterwards he took me to the park by the dirt coloured river where we frolicked for a while, made daisy chains and splashed each other with water while it snowed around us (I may have exaggerated here for personal giggles.)

Zach worked at Greenlife grocery store which seems to be a small version of Whole Foods, same good quality food and smug atmosphere to boot. It surely matched the atmosphere of the town. Zach had personal beef with a popular saying in the town “We Are All One” or something of a similar ilk and decided to ask many a person we met whether they agreed with this saying, the majority claiming that “yes, in some way, maybe, well, yes I guess so but also we’re different, you know?” which essentially translates as “I don’t know what it means but I agree ‘cus
I’m super cool and hip.” I think I’m being a bit mean now but either way, it was funny.

We picked Molly up from school and went for munchies (lunch) and bought some form of sandwich which was delicious (America truly make far superior sandwiches to England) and then returned back to the house (dropped Molly back at school on the way.)

After playing me some songs on the geetar (sic) Zach had to go to work and I stayed home and did, well, basically sod all, it was beautiful, I facebooked people, played online games, listened to music, dozed, talked to Andrea when she came in for a bit then dossed about some more, I seriously felt completely at home. All three members of the household had my sense of humour as well as being ridiculously hospitable.

When Molly and Zach had both returned home (he brought Indian food back from work which was delish (delicious) we all settled down to watch “Happy Go Lucky” which is an hilarious British film that I had not seen before but enjoyed tremendously and then went to beddy bies and fell asleep after realising Andrea’s cat was sleeping next to me.

I awoke the next day with great jubilation as I hadn’t been this well rested and happy for a long time and after Molly had gone to school Zach took me to a local cafe to get breakfast. I discovered on the walk that Zach didn’t care for rules, he was a rebel the likes I hadn’t seen in a long time, he didn’t care for pavements or walkways, he would just walk on the road, play chicken with cars, fuck the rules indeed. This was all fun until he nearly got run over, but it all ended okay so no lessons were learned.

I was so excited to look at the menu to see what culinary delights I could find, I bought a croissant with ham and cheese but more importantly I had both grits and collared greens and they were both delicious. Grits are actually amazing, they may sound and look repulsive but with enough butter, salt and pepper they are truly grand.

I spent the day doing not much all over again and it was just as amazing as the day before (Zach had to go to work as soon as breakfast was over.) We had made huge exciting plans for the evening though, we were going out to the new brewery/bar and were going to live it up large. When we arrived and sat down among all the needless neon we ordered some beer from the “bro” waiter, if you don’t know much about Bro culture don’t worry you’re not missing out on much. We then ordered some food and subtly mocked the waiter, Molly and I got fish and chips and Zach for chili cheese fries; I wish I’d got chili cheese fries as the fish and chips was three tiny bit size fillets of mountain trout and some crisps, I know Americans call crisps chips but I didn’t expect battered fish to be served on crisps… dicks. One drink was enough as all three of us were now completely wrecked (sarcasm) and we went home to talk and eventually fall asleep like a babe in his mother’s arms.

So it was my last day in Asheville and I didn’t really want to leave and it made it slightly worse that I was told I could stay longer if I so wish (sometimes decisions are so hard to make) but I had made up my mind that I would go back to Chicago to live in the Archer Ballroom where I had stayed previously, it is a beautiful space and I was so excited about the chance to actually stay there for an extended amount of time.

I said goodbye to Zach in the morning as he had (stupid) work again so I wouldn’t see him before my bus came and I spent the day with Molly around town, looking at her friends studio (some of her artwork was beautiful,) getting coffee at the other Izzy’s and finally buying myself a copy of William S. Burroughs “Naked Lunch” before getting dropped back at the greyhound station on my second to last bus journey of the entire trip, it was nearly time to go home and I had traveled many thousands of miles but there was still a little ways to go so I bought my ticket, took a seat in the waiting room, opened “Naked Lunch” and started to read…

So my ridiculously early alarm woke me up, way before my host was up, and I walked to the Amtrak station. I wanted to make sure I get there early as I still had to buy my ticket and there was no way I was going to miss this train as the one after wasn’t for another 12 hours.

After navigating my way there entirely by my natural sense of direction I realised I was a good hour early and the ticket desk wasn’t even open so I had to use one of those fandangled ticket machines which I spent at least 10 minutes trying to understand i then went to Subway and bought an omelette sandwich and missed Erica and our trips to ‘bway to get meatball subs for 2 quid.

Getting a train in American is significantly more hassle than it is in England, you have to show ID when you buy a ticket and your name gets printed on it. There also seems to be a complete excess of staff, after lining up at a gate for the train (yes, this is as ridiculous as it sounds) and having my ticket checked by two guards I meet about another 5 guards working on the same train as well as a driver, I have no idea what these people actually do other than wander up and down the carriages.

The train pulled away and I enjoyed all the beautiful views through Mississippi and Alabama, these are two of the prettiest states I’ve seen, extremely sparse and full of country; it really made me dream of the simple life and wondered whether my ingrained urbanite ways are truly the things I want.

The trains journey seemed to go on forever, passenger trains in the states are not the priority, freight is, so if a freight train wants to go past then it will and it will crawl pass at 40mph and Amtrak ill wait like a little bitch. I never thought I’d appreciate the train system in England quite so much, I won’t complain about it for at least 2 weeks after returning home.

At long last I got to Atlanta and was picked up by Brianna who I had stayed with in New York and we both decided we were hungry so we went to get some seafood; she bought a crabcake po-boy and I just went for some fried seafood and jalapenos, raw oysters are still nicer than deep fried ones though.

After returning to her loft she asked if I wanted to get drunk but given that she had turned over a new leaf and given up all kinds of intoxicating substances I declined and stayed sober (probably a good thing) and spent the evening in the only bar we could get into (She’s only 20) and played darts after some guys tried to con us into paying them money to play pool.

The next day there was going to be a party at her loft, we spent the day doing not much at all other than preparing the space. The party was an interesting one, there was live music as well as acrobatic artists (one of whom Brianna definitely developed a thing for after watching her change [which I accidentally walked in on.]) I paid a “donation” for a few beers and just enjoyed the show and hanging out with Brianna’s flat mate Sunny (Sp?) who is an electronic music DJ and producer (mainly dubstep from what I recall) and wants to move to London as he’s well aware that it’s the place to be (so why was I here in this hole of a city?)

The loft itself was a pretty big space especially for how few people lived there (4 but I only met 3) with artwork strewn over every wall, the point of the party was to show off the work made by local artists. My favourite was made by a man who took old paintings he’s acquired and painted dinosaurs on top the existing painting. there was a giant red painted steel sculpture for the centrepiece just inside the front door which was also pretty good.

The party finished and we were told of another one just starting at a nearby loft as a sort of after party, as Brianna wasn’t drinking she offered to drive us there, I really just wanted to go to bed but went along with it. We also gave a very strange man called Dennis (I don’t know his real name but Dennis fits) who just talked absolute shit and seemed to be constantly trying to cadge a place to stay at her loft, it is entirely possible that he was homeless.

When we arrived there was a mob of people attacking someone’s care (while they were trying to drive away) they were literally kicking, punching and spitting on this car and there was so many it took a while for the car to actually pull away. Brianna did the sensible thing and drove straight into the angry mob who reluctantly moved out the way (I suggested avoiding this situation but apparently I’m just a pussy.) The party was already over by the time we got there as some stuff had gone down (hence the crazy mob) so we all decided to climb on top off a stationary freight train which became fairly instantly a dumb idea as another train came at us on the other track.

I had already been told that at some point I would have to go to waffle house simply because it is ridiculously cheap and an American institution and so the next day we did. I bought a sausage biscuit and gravy as well as a steak and cheese sandwich. The food was cheap and pretty good though I have no idea where Americans get their idea of what gravy is supposed to be from.

Atlanta is an extremely strange place, there seem to be a huge amount of crack/meth heads and they’re not shy about being seen in public. At one point when we had to stop for gas around midnight we were basically harassed by a several outside the gas station, they put on some kind of weird good cop bad cop routine with one threatening us like “hey, HEY, what the fuck man you racist? you RACIST?” and the other saying things like “aww man, ignore him, I’m cool I’ll protect you man” seriously people, stop taking crack, really, just stop.

I spent the rest of the day mostly resting and bumming around the loft, I had a bus to catch around midnight and i didn’t have much money to do anything until then, it was nice to just spend some time relaxing and having a small smoke with sunny before being driven to the station for another adventure, this time going north.

The bus arrived as normal, I stepped on and was slightly frustrated by how many people were on there because when you’re taking such long bus journeys it’s always nice to be able to have two seats and live in your own little world for a while, not have to sit next to some random loon who wants to talk at you for God knows how many hours until they finally get off.

Somehow at the back of the bus there was a double seat free and I plonked my bum down on it and fell asleep until we got to Brenham, TX where a tall, skinny man with a baseball cap and teeth missing asked/said “anybody sitting here? cool man, cool, hey I’m Tony.” I shuffled up a little bit and let out a mumbled “Hey, I’m Adam.” For the next 30 minutes the predictable happened and my ear was talked off by this man who was just jabbering on about all and sundry until he finally stopped with “?Haha sorry man, I’m just so stoned,” to which I laughed and the whole situation made a lot more sense.

We actually had a proper two way conversation for the next couple of hours until we got to Houston where I had to change buses and he was getting off. He was a bails bondsman which means he loans money to people who need money for bail to get out of jail, he had lost one of his teeth because he had to chase someone who tried to get away with not paying, had to climb over a fence and when he got to the other side the man was waiting for him with a 2x4 and clocked him straight in the jaw, he never got his money.

Tony asked if I wanted to go for a smoke (not tobacco) and I did but my new bus was already boarding so I didn’t have time, he told me to wait one minute, he dug his hand into his band and pulled out a couple of buds and handed them to me in the middle of the terminal so there I was trying to board a bus with a handful of weed, smooth moves all round. I got on the bus (which was even more packed than the previous one!) and off we went.

The bus ride isn’t really worth talking about other than the amazing scenery, watching it change from endless Texan grass and fields to the more swampy, woody, wet, bayou lands of Louisiana. At a Popeye’s chicken store I ended up buying a meal for someone else (with there money they just wanted to queue jump) but I really couldn’t understand him or anybody else in the shop for that matter but I did the best I could.

On arriving in New Orleans I was absolutely shattered and it was about 8pm, not late exactly but it was pitch black and I didn’t know where I was going so I, having spent little money that day, treated myself to a taxi to take me to the address I had for the person I was staying with, I now wish I hadn’t bothered because it wasn’t there far or difficult to get to.

I had a brief conversation with my host (Jade) but she was going to a show that night and said it was ok for me to just stay in and sleep if that’s what I wanted. We smoked a bit of the tea I got from the Texan in Houston, she rode her bike to the punk show while I had an amazing sleep on the couch.

The next morning I hung around until Jade got up so we could discuss what was going to happen that day (St. Patrick’s Day) she had school but gave me a key to the house so I could do whatever I wanted. I had a shower and headed on down to the Irish Channel and at 11am bought a guiness and a pint of “green beer” which is basically just miller light with green food dye, what an adorable gimmick.

I spent the next 3 hours down there drinking to my hearts content and eating a big bucket of crawfish which was absolutely delicious! Such a hassle to eat but totally worth it. After filling my belly with 100 little crustaceans I headed down to the french quarter to see what further parties were happening.

I was trying to save some money so I bought some beer from an off license and walked around the streets; in New Orleans you are allowed to just drink anywhere on the streets, no open container laws or anything like that, you can simply drink what you want where you want and guess what? People do, lots of people do… I drank enough to feel sleep, headed on down to the Mississippi river and fell asleep on the rocks under the warming sun listening to the steam boats go by.

I was awoken by a girls voice saying “Is he okay? I think he’s wasting.” I didn’t respond to this but I was now awake, two girls climbed down the rocks to check if I was ok, which I was, they were significantly more drunk than I was! Nevertheless we talked for a good hour, hour and a half and there mum even came to say hello, they were 20 years old and in town for St. Patrick’s Day, their mum was happy to let them get as trashed as they wanted and smoke as much pot as they wanted (which she disagreed with but let them do anyway.)

I was given one of their numbers (Tayler’s [the other girl was called Danielle {the mum was called Tayler’s mum}]) and said we’d meet up later. I relaxed for a few more hours by the river side and they walked off.

After a couple of hours by myself another girl came to check if I was ok, her name was, well, I actually don’t remember her name or anybody’s name who was with her, I really wasn’t that interested. The group she was with were all about 16 and trying to get me to buy alcohol for them (subtly so I never had to actually say no.) I said my goodbyes to them pretty quickly and went to find the others again.

By about 8.30 pm I was back with the other girls and we were drinking Hand Grenades (some form of gimmicky cocktail) which was actually delicious. We wandered around for a little while, went to a gay bar and then were about to go back to their hotel room to smoke but the parade started. It was basically just a lot of “Irish” people giving beads and getting kisses on the cheek from any girl they thought was remotely attractive. The more confident of them gave out stickers but would only put them on girls breasts (smooooth) and yes, some girls are trampy and desperate enough to flash for beads, there really is no need though, I got a shit load from doing nothing.

We finally made it back to the hotel where the two girls tried to convince the mum to let them smoke in the bathroom, she was having none of it however so we had to go down to the carpark. We smoked for a little bit before getting interrupted by security, he didn’t actually do anything except move us on, he was probably jealous he didn’t have any weed.

This was pretty much the end of the day, I walked back the house I was staying at, a good couple of miles drunk and stoned, it was the end of a good day…

The next morning when I woke up Jade was busy again with work and so was her housemate so I went to enjoy myself in town again. I just want to make it clear both Jade and her house mate are lovely people they were just ridiculously busy with school and work and life in general. I went back to the french quarter and bought myself a “four loko” which is some kind of stupid canned alcoholic drink, it’s kind of Special Brew but stronger and mixed with fruit flavouring to hide the taste, it is actually ok and about 12% alcohol so one can which is a pint and a half is like drinking a bottle of wine.

After realising I was quite drunk at noon off this one can of drink I went into a restaurant/bar and bought myself gumbo, jumbalaya and a bloody mary. This was an amazing combination, I loved all three (I can’t believe I like bloody mary’s… and the gumbo was simply amazing, I am definitely going to cook gumbo when I return home.

I found one of the guys who was with the group I briefly hung around with the day before. He was a guy who lived in an abandoned building a couple of miles away and had been on the streets for the past 7 years. He was mildly insane, fairly dumb and a juggalo (not jiggalo, wiki it.) I spent a few hours with him, he bought some weed after selling a harmonica to a street musician. We smoked the weed together then went to watch another street musician who was also the guy he bought the weed from. He was a 35/40 year old black man who loved playing his guitar, I especially enjoyed his rendition of “family affair.” He had a sort of double act going on with some drunken man who i don’t think he really knew singing backing vocals but kept getting told to shut up because he was ruining his songs, ha, what a fool.

I returned back to the house fairly early that day, I was tired and had enough of all the days excitement (after smoking yet more weed with a semi-pro skateboarder who came to listen and a random passer by who tipped the musician with a blunt.) I talked to Jade and her boyfriend who a while and smoked yet more (damn, i sound like a pot head writing this.)

I had one more final sleep on that wonderfully comfortable couch (the arm rest was the perfect height as a pillow) and was excited about my 6.45am train to Atlanta, Georgia. I wasn’t, however, excited about my 5.30am alarm…

Self affection is no affection,

I crave affection, attention, noticeability;

this is the fuel my nigh destitute body runs on

Why must I, in my mind’s eye, try to justify such primitive longing?

It is in my natural state that I crave a soft touch from a silken skinned deep eyed angel of lust

At a price, even, I would gladly approve the advance of said creature; beautiful in sight but vile by nature,

Even if the price is beyond my means; a pearl of my pride or spritz of my love’s essence…

Ha!

Too naive is the harlot who is just as desperate for my acceptance as I am for her overused body.

Who wins this battle for dominance?

No one but the condom companies, lingerie shops, restauranteurs and mattress makers;

Peddlers of all sorts vying for my money because only with THEIR products will I get what I need, and…

Fuck the stupid girl who never learns that no matter how many times she puts her cunt on a plate I will always treat it as a once only disposable consumable.

I cannot come through on any promise of longevity regarding our being TOGETHER

I wouldn’t punish the most deplorable whore with that fate…

Self affection is no affection,

Maybe that’s my cure.

I arrived in Austin around 10pm after an extremely long journey back up from Mexico. Getting back into the USA was a lot easier than I had originally anticipated; as the immigration officer left my visa waiver form in my passport when I went into Mexico it was still technically valid for when I came back in and it took all of 2 minutes before I was given the green light and re-entry to the country.

The first thing on my mind was to try and make my way into town to either find some kind of internet cafe that was open so I could find someone to couch surf with or to simply get nearer the centre so I would feel safer sleeping on the streets for the night. Austin is not built for pedestrians, not even a little bit, it took me about an hour to get half a while down the road traversing over barriers and gravel, it was horrid.

I decided that I was never going to get to town that night and so I went to try and find a cheap motel for the night. I went into a super 8 and asked how much the cheapest room was that night (the sign said $39) and they said the cheapest was $120 to which I scoffed heartily at said “you’re alright thanks” and walked out. SXSW was already having a detrimental effect on my time in Austin.

I walked for a further mile down the road and came across a very small very dirty looking motel and thought I would try my luck again and this time a small Asian man came out and asked me what I wanted and then explained that my room would be $40 for the night, I happily accepted this price, gave him what seemed to be my entire life’s details and he gave me my room key.

The room was a usual grotty motel one, a shower that barely worked, a bed that barely gave support and a television with very little on except adverts and porn. I had myself a quick shower and went straight to sleep so I could get an early start the next morning and try and sort out what was going to happen.

I woke up and trekked all the way down town past a thousand fast food restaurants, parks and highways. I made a brief stop at the University of Texas, went into their library, get myself an ID (after blagging some rubbish about doing a collaborative course with the uni) and used their internet to try and find myself a couch. From there I went to capitol building (which is beautiful) and eventually down to sixth street where the majority of SXSW stuff was happening. It was ridiculously busy even though it was only the interactive part of the festival and not the music.

I spent most of the morning getting free food and drink from people who were trying to advertise their products at the festival and then found an interesting place called “Space” down one of the side roads. It was a place that was open just for 4/5 days payed for by some kind of social networking company. It was simply a place for people to come and relax and use the free wi-fi (as well as a marketing ploy of course.) I chilled there for a few hours enjoying the free beer and getting a little tipsy before wandering off into the evening air after still not finding a place to sleep.

I came across a traveling college street kid named Uma, she was playing a harp on a corner leaning up again a lamp post. I sat down to listen to her play and talked to her for a while about traveling and the right way to do so. She explained that she was living in the green belt of Austin while SXSW was on and then would go back to college when spring break was over. I asked her for directions to the green belt because I still had no place to stay and was sure as hell not walking back to the motel I stayed in previously. I gave her $20 for her music was truly beautiful and she thanked me and looked a bit astonished and we parted ways.

I walked south of the city for a while, came across the green belt (I think, to this day I’m still not sure) but for some reason kept on walking and walked all the way down S. Congress until i got to a suburban town called Penn Field which is apparently has a large Mexican community because I was the only white person and everything was in Spanish. I found another motel and the price was $35 and I gave up on my idea of being outside and had another trashy night inside.

The next day I FINALLY got myself a couch host called Berkay who was originally from Turkey but was in Austin studying, the only problem being that he live in the north part of town and I really don’t like paying for buses, another long walk awaited me. I decided to put it off for as long as was viable and spent my time eating Texas BBQ from a trailer attached to a different trailer.

After walking through sunny Austin for just over an hour I came across the apartment I would be staying in for the night and settled down to talking with my new host about England, Turkey and the many idiocies of the USA. After a while we decided we would go down town and drink and had a few shots of tequila each before to get in the mood, his room mate Yuri also came along. The night was a usual drunken one going to rock clubs and heckling the terrible bands that we heard play before retiring back to the apartment and falling into sweet inebriated sleep.

I had got another OK from a couch surfing host for a place to stay so decided to save being rude I would stay at his (Justin’s) house that night. He lived slightly further north still in a more suburban neighborhood and I walked yet more to his place where the back door was left open for me.

Justin and I got on like a house on fire straight away, we had the same sort of interests and sense of humour and as it turned out within the hour, beer. He showed me his kombucha making set-up and then went drinking at a couple of bars. The usual chit chat happened, we then met up with his friend and his friends friend ate Thai food, came home and watched south park for the next 2 1/2 hours.

I had one more day left in Austin mostly just because I really couldn’t be bothered to move on and needed to save up some money after getting so many long and slightly expensive bus tickets everywhere. Justin gave me some of his delicious kombucha and suggested I went down to the east village in Austin which I had and had yet more BBQ and this was even better, i ate a pound of the ribs which were amazing and chugged down a bottle of Big Red soda which, from what I can tell, is simply water, fructose syrup and colouring, it was the American dream.

After spending the day there and on 6th street (again) I had decided I’d drunk enough so I returned back to the house (this time by bus, i was definitely done with walking!) and entered the house to have another blissful sleep before having to wake up at 6am and (luckily) being driven to the bus station to get my next exciting bus to New Orleans.

I had a truly beautiful sleep that night in Mexico despite the sound of distant cries and gunshots and the fact my bed was covered in what I can only assume were blood and spunk stains. I handed my key into the reception and explained as best I could that I wouldn’t be needing another night there (I would find my couch surfing host tonight [at least that was the plan at the time])

I went and found the nearest metro stop and purchased a single ticket for 3 Peso/ 15p WTF?! How the hell this system made any money I’ve no idea but I liked how much it cost. The train came and I simply got off at a stop I thought would be vaguely in the centre of the city which actually worked pretty well.

I walked down a few roads, ate some beautiful street food and went off to see what I could find, I eventually came across a beautiful Catholic church or shrine, something of that ilk anyway which you enter by walking down some steps only to step inside and find that the building is huge and beautifully ornate. I sat down and contemplated life for a moment and tried to work out what it was that I really wanted from it. After 5 minutes mass started to my complete surprise, I hadn’t been to mass in a long time but decided to stay and see how it was. I had a wonderful revelation during the service, I didn’t need to be here, I didn’t need to keep traveling to find what I wanted because I already had pretty much everything, I would return home early to my family that love my and my friends who I love just as much (and I hope feel mutually.) I smiled inanely all the way through mass and left feeling totally content, I would enjoy my day in Mexico City and then head north that night on the bus back to the USA to continue my journey up the east coast.

After some more wandering I got to the main cathedral, government buildings and public square. I visited a photo/video exhibition set up for the countries bicentennial which was very well presented (and had extremely well produced sound) I clapped with all the others and made my way out.

I had a look round the cathedral and realised just how much time, effort and money went into building the place, everything was made of gold or else some other expensive material but the place was truly revered (unlike most holy places in the UK) and it was nice to see so many people with real faith. Faith of any kind is a huge comfort.

I was boiling hot by this point and went to buy some ice cream; I had chocolate in a home made waffle cone (she little made it in front of my eyes) with melted chocolate on top (which obviously went hard after hitting the ice cream) and sprinkles, it was the best ice cream I’ve ever had (that I can remember, I know I had good gelato in Italy but I was too young to remember properly.)

After some more aimless wandering I came across some sort of rally outside the city courts, I had no idea what I was supporting but I shouted angrily along with the rest of the crowd and then joined the street party that spontaneously broke out; singing and dancing with the locals. This was very welcoming and everybody acted like I was their neighbour or best friend.

After all this frivolity I decided I would start to head back towards the bus station. I did this, purchased my ticket to Austin and was all set to go, I had 3 hours to spend doing whatever I liked so I bought 1l of tequila for about 7 quid (and it was really good tequila as well!) sat down at a roadside food stand, ordered a chorizo Torta (which was the shit) talked to a few locals, they initially laughed when I put so much chili on my food but gave me great respect when I ate it with great enjoyment.

After short talks with two guys named Viktor and Julio and being asked for about the 100th time by the same woman something in Spanish which I didn’t understand and me for the 100th time replying “NO HABLO ESPANOL” I was finally ready to get the long bus trip back up to Monterrey and from there into the USA and up into Texas to Austin where the start of SXSW festival beckoned.

After waiting in line for the bus for a good hour or so I was finally let on to enjoy my trip through the rest of Arizona, New Mexico and Texas down to El Paso (I have no idea why there is a company named after this town because the place is a serious shit hole.) Where I would have to change buses.

The ride was ridiculously plain, the desert simply went on for mile and miles with no respite; hardly anything but mountains and cacti for hundreds of miles, the only thing breaking up the monotony being the random advertisements found along the road for the most ridiculous things. The main one that recurred excessively was advertising “The Thing” in Arizona, which, after some internet research seems to be nothing but a man-made mummy…

I grabbed some quick lunch at Mc. Do and enjoyed a brief conversation with the server who had never spoken to anybody from England before which I doubt many people from New Mexico have and carried on for a few more hours until eventually I arrived in El Paso, TX. That does not however mean it was the end of my journey I had over 24 hours of bus travel left to go before I got to Mexico city.

I changed buses and was suddenly by far the minority, in fact, I was the only Caucasian on the bus and absolutely no English was spoken (even by the driver) which added to me anxiety and confusion of what I was meant to be doing. Before even leaving the depo American immigration officers come onto the bus to check everybody’s documents; my visa-waiver form was deemed fine and wasn’t taken out of my passport (which would prove useful later on) but unfortunately for one of my fellow riders he didn’t have any kind of documentation and was forced off the bus, handcuffed and taken into custody… what a lovely start to the entry process into Mexico.

A short 10 minute drive to the border followed and it was my turn to be dragged off the bus, I showed my passport but I needed to fill out a visa form; an English speaking Mexican assured me I would be fine and that it was an easy process for “someone like me” but the fact the immigration officer didn’t speak any English did not fill me with hope. I arrived into the small building to the side…

“Don’t mind him he’s a bit slow, just fill out this form”

“Oh, Okay, Thanks… I don’t actually have an address for when I get there though…”

“Ah, don’t worry about that! Just put Mexico City, it doesn’t matter”

So I gave back my half filled out form and I was given a copy, all was well, this certainly wasn’t like getting into the USA at the airport! I was satisfied everything would work out fine. I got back on the bus for another 10/15 minute journey into Juarez where I would then wait for just over an hour. I had to change my ticket at the desk but didn’t understand what the clerk was saying at all (for he spoke Spanish and my Spanish is tragic) but after a little help from an onlooker and a few hand gestures I finally knew when and where I was supposed to be going.

The bus to take me to Mexico City was pretty damn comfortable and also fairly cheap. I had no Pesos so couldn’t buy anything to eat or drink (I didn’t want to change my money at the border because you get a terrible exchange rate) so had to wait this out until I could get further into the country. I got on the bus, a Spanish version of “Little Man” was put on which I assume is a fairly poor film even when you understand what’s being said but it was especially awful so I just switched off, put my headphones on and listened to The XX.

The bus journey down was beautiful, it was pitch dark by this point and once we were in the countryside the stars were amazing, I’d never in my whole life seen stars this bright. The whole sky was lit up with them, I didn’t even know there were that many stars visible from the earth, I just stared out the window open jawed for a good two hours which a few tears coming to my eyes as I realised just how awfully we pollute the sky with artificial light and deny ourselves this beautiful pleasure.

After a little sleep and another half day’s traveling I finally arrived at the city but after the long trip and a few hold ups it was now around 10pm and pitch black again, I had no idea where I was going and couldn’t get hold of my couchsurfing host. I was ridiculously worried at first but found the the first cheap looking hotel I could find and after some form of conversation and blank expressions from both the hotel worker and myself I realised the room for the night would be 120 Peso which translates to about 6 GBP, I laughed out loud and payed the money giving the man 50 Peso tip which he seemed ecstatic about.

I quickly ran to the shop bought enough beer to help me sleep, some coke (made with real sugar not corn syrup!) and some cheetos, had a quick shower, turned on the television to find I had free hardcore porn on about 4 channels, tucked myself into bed and enjoyed my delectable feast of alcohol and naked ladies.

So I looked on Craigslist and managed to get a list from a bassist in a local band from Phoenix and only charged me $30 gas (which was fine by me) and we cruised along the desert on the interstate with nothing but numerous mountain and cacti to look at and good music to listen to; he even got me and a +1 on the guestlist for his bands gig that evening (they had previously toured with Paramore and Jimmy Eat World) but I didn’t end up going because my host was too tired and I didn’t want to go on my own.

I arrived in Phoenix about 11 in the morning and knew that my host wasn’t able to meet me until after school (she is a grad student) and so I had to entertain myself for a while. I soon realised there is absolutely nothing worth doing in downtown phoenix and made my way via light rail to Tempe, a small student town outside the city centre. I managed to buy myself some new shoes (purple canvas ones from Urban Outfitter [I am still living to regret this decision]) as my hiking books were pretty wrecked from big sur, stunk and I wasn’t doing anymore hiking.

I settled down for the afternoon and did nothing but wait for my lovely Russian host Irina to let me know she was finished for the day so I sat in the sun feeling smug with my new shoes and all the excitement that had preceded. Eventually my phone buzzed and I was ready to roll, I got out of the wonderful sun I’d been basking in and went to meet Irina (not known to me at this point in any way other than a few texts)

After walking back to her little studio flat in Tempe we talked a while about mathematics (for she is mathematician) as well as art and music. It was great simply because we both loved each other’s accents so it didn’t really matter what we said because it all sounded beautiful to each other. I was then introduced to Frank the orange monkey vegetable peeler and from then on were settled for the night.

After spending a quiet night (other than talking through the hole in the wall to Irina) a quiet day followed with her going to school and me catching up on a lot of work I should’ve done a long long time ago. I ran around her flat singing at the top of my voice and basically acting like a moron (all this unknown to her until now of course) and when she returned I was in a wonderful chilled out mood and we watched Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and I thought of my friend Siobhan from back home due to her Facebook tag.

This is it Joel. It’s going to be gone soon.
I know.
What do we do?
Enjoy it.

I slept sweetly that night, I didn’t dream of anything in particular but I’m sure I dreamed of something; nothing, however, could prepare me for the next day…

I was leaving Phoenix that day and was headed to Mexico by way of El Paso, I wanted to save a bit of money so I was going to hitch-hike instead of pay for the bus. I head out early to find myself some cardboard and marker pen to make myself a wonderful sign that said “TEXAS” had smiley faces and flowers all over it. I was full of joy and almost ran to the on ramp to the freeway… where it started to spit with rain…

I flew my sign for a good half hour to no avail what-so-ever and by now it was completely pissing it down (in the fucking desert!.) I had to walk well over a mile in the rain to get shelter, my lovely new purple shoes completely soaked therefore my feet completely soaked and my jeans the same, bad memories of Capitola came flooding back.

What the hell was such a torrential downpour doing in the desert?! I was most upset but waited it out until the rain wasn’t so bad and carried on walking. I walked for a good two miles flying my sign where I could but by now in a completely shit mood, I even made a new sign on the back saying “STUPID RAIN - PLEASE HELP” with a sad face and rainclouds this however did not help matters at all.

I finally got to another freeway on ramp and there was an In ‘N’ Out burger place right next to it and got myself some lunch. I got talking to an old couple who were sitting next to me and going a few miles down the road to the next town, I asked them for a lift and they said that was fine, the husband used to hitch hike when he was younger and knew how terrible it was trying to do it now.

After a short car journey there I was, next to a wal-mart and not much else, I was told if I walked about 2 miles south I would hit the main Freeway and would definitely get a lift there, I said thanks and started on my trek (still flying my sign at every car that came past)

I sang to myself for a good 2 hours (it was NOT 2 miles to the on ramp, in fact it turned out it was about 20 miles west) and let out the occasional scream when I realised I was in fact completely alone and could do anything and nobody would ever know,

I came across a fresh ‘n’ easy store which is American branch of Tesco, I went in to see if they had any of the same products, they didn’t really but they DID sell Cadburys Dairy Milk, I bought a medium sized bar and scoffed the lot in minutes, it was amazing I just sat and wondered where the hell I was going and whether or not it’d be another rainy day on the streets (it was still raining and rained for a good 20 hours.)

I decided to continue walking and eventually came across a little bit of desert I had to cross (wet desert makes for messy shoes and trousers) so I ended up pretty grotty and looking fairly trampy. I came to some train tracks and watched a slow moving freight train heading west and I was so close to just hopping on it and going back to anywhere other than here.

I finally got to the on ramp to a freeway, not the one I wanted but the stupid loop system that just goes around the Phoenix area but it was better than nothing… I thought. I waited there for 20 minutes, got told off by highway patrol for flying a sign in a “potentially dangerous area” I said very little and when I did I put on a bad stoner american accent then strutted off.

I came across another human being and asked where the nearest bus stop was, where it went to and whether I could get anywhere else from there. He showed me the bus stop over the road that went to ASU East and he said from there there were loads of connections that went all over the country, he was sure there was even a greyhound bus stop there.

I got the bus, the bald-headed lady bus driver let me on for free as i only had a $5 bill and the bus was only $1.25 and rode it all the way to East ASU, the bus driver also informed me the only bus that went from that place was the one I was currently on so I’d either have to stay there or get exactly the same bus back… I stayed on that b us for a good 1 and a half hours to some mall in the middle of nowhere, changed buses and in another hour I was back in Tempe…

I text Irina previously to ask if I could stay another night but got no reply but I walked back to her apartment and knocked anyway, I don’t think I’ve ever looked or felt so pathetic and she pitied me endlessly I’m sure. She let me in said of course I could stay another night and made me some mashed potato with veggies; I’m rarely as elated as I was that night. We sat down together and watched a really really bad french film called “Le Samurai” it apparently had a memorable Anti-Hero in it, it was just memorably shit. Irina however is infinitely adorable and I remember her with great fondness as I write this; she is now on her own adventure while she has a little break from school.

After another lovely sleep I awoke to Irina making breakfast, I ate together with her and Frank before getting a lift to the airport and making my way to the greyhound station where I’d simply get the bus to Mexico, I was disheartened with hitch-hiking for now. When I got to the airport I was told it was another mile and a half walk to the greyhound station so I trudged on in my still wet shoes and my now wet meet across ridiculous roads with no footpaths and finally arrived, I bought my ticket and was ready to head south into the mystical land of Mexico.