New York left a good impression despite its many flaws. The pollution, garbage and associated smells don’t detract from the energy of the place and the genuine love the natives have for it. From the outside it feels very parochial but wrapped within its very warm confines it feels like being part of a community. On my last night I went up 86 floors of the Empire State Building, the tallest building in New York, to see the city wreathed in a light smog. As the natural light faded New York’s own lights took over to illuminate one hell of a skyline.
Leaving New York was proving difficult, not so much because we didn’t want to go, but choosing the next destination and a means of getting there was proving difficult and contentious. Tim was trying to organise an auto drive-away car, a system where you drive someone else’s car across the country for them. For some reason no-one was leaving New York but we got a lead in Washington D.C. so that’s where we headed. In a strange twist of fate the day we left New York was the day that the heat wave broke. Walking around the city that week was like being lightly steamed for an entree so neither of us were sorry to escape it.
Washington is obviously famous for the White House, Capitol Hill and the Smithsonian but what is less well known is that the city has the highest murder count in the country and ‘don’t drive your car through there at night’ slums. The place has an artificial capital feel and turns into half a city when government isn’t sitting. It felt like a soulless city – the kind of place people come to for a job but can’t wait to leave. The best thing about the place was that we picked up a car going to Nebraska in the morning. We had to look on the map to see where that was. It involved a drive through Maryland, a dip into West Virginia, slightly into Pennsylvania, pop across West Virginia again and across Ohio, Indiana, Illinois and Missouri, arriving pretty close to the heart of the country.
Tim and I were picking up a white Camry from Henry. Henry seemed like a nice old man but was obviously worried about letting a couple of jokers take his car on a massive road trip to be delivered to his daughter. He didn’t have much choice in the end but I think the car was added to his nightly prayers. The road west from Washington hovers between Amish country to the north and bourbon swilling hillbillies to the south. Tim was in professional driver mode so it was straight through to American farmland.
Americans love meat. Whether it comes in the form of hotdogs, burgers, steaks or some bacon for breakfast. No meal is complete without some meat – and I’m quoting a billboard there. I like meat as much as the next red-blooded male but there’s only so much my ass can take. I began searching for some roughage but whenever I ate a salad I received puzzled looks. Most Americans just hit the laxatives as evidenced by the 24-hour pharmacy. Half an aisle is taken up with laxatives, heartburn and indigestion remedies. I can’t compete with such a hard-core meat addiction so I’ve been munching on bagels and white bread softer than a baby’s bottom.
The plains of Ohio and Indiana aren’t as plain as you might think. There are hundreds of miles of corn fields but there are patches of trees and enough little hills to stop it being the flatlands. We took Interstate 70 for most of the way which leads unwaveringly west through the fields. It’s quite an impressive display of agricultural might but we got the feeling that middle America isn’t a big tourist attraction. We usually had to repeat the first thing we said to people as they seemed so shocked that we didn’t speak with an American accent that they forgot to listen. My accent was described as cute by one hotel manager who came out with the classic line, “I didn’t think you were from around here”. I have to say that once people got over their initial shock they were very friendly. It seems Americans have a travel complex which turns them into annoying morons as soon as they leave the safety of their home town.
You’ll have to excuse me if I get large parts of the drive through America muddled up as most of it looks the same and my memory has been fused by the hot sun and hypnotising road. Apologies also for the haphazard timing of these emails. It’s been devilishly hard to get any internet time and I refuse to be ripped off. I’m typing this one in Chicago’s public library and might come back tomorrow to finish it off and relate the story of how I came to be here. Till then,
Dave out.
