Stage Two: New York – New Orleans
6th November. New York City, liberty island ferry. About lunch time.
Yesterday was a day off to write up notes and sort out the web site. Janice was working at home so we were both sitting at the dinner table with laptops and chatting as various members of her family dropped by.
This morning took the bus in with Janice to the Port Authority bus station just around the corner from Time Square – named after the New York Times I learn (she works there). From here I walked down to lower Manhatten, which took about two and a half hours, soaking up the atmosphere of the city's streets. Morbid though it may be I, and hundreds of others, stopped for a while to gaze at the hole where the World Trade Centre stood. Probably the most visited building site in the world, it is surrounded by a high metal cage fence dotted with plaques about the history of the site , its future and a list of all the people who lost their lives that day. The crowds stood mostly in silence as six or seven storeys down, the rebuilding of the subways got underway. In nearby Battery Park a globe sculpture, apparently orginially designed as a symbol of peace, that once stood in a plaza in the middle of the complex, and was pulled out remarkably unscathed, stands as a temporary memorial, with an eternal flame.
Later that night: So did the Statue of Liberty and Ellis Island this afternoon. You can't climb the statue any more, which was disappointing but the views of the city from the harbour were great. Ellis Island is where they used to process immigrants in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. The museeum there now is very well done – you follow the route the people took through the building, and they had collected storieis from living survivors. It rained this afternoon and I got very wet walking up Broadway back to Times Square, but its a great way to see the city. This evening we went to see Kill Bill, a very over the top gore homage to kung fu movies. It was enjoyable if a little self indulgent.
Here a a couple more diffferences between the UK and USA: they don't use electric kettles here – but old style on the hob ones; and they don't have adverts in the cinema – a fact that meant we missed the beginning of the film.
7th November
Today started at Grand Central Station, with its huge vaulted ceiling, enormous central concourse, all shining marble with the clock in the middle. I also bought some fresh fruit from the market there – the first I have had any since arriving (Mum I can hear you tutting). Also the Chrysler building but you can't really see much of it from ground level. Went into the lobby – quite impressive art deco - but its not really a tourist spot. From there to Central Park and the Guggenheim Museeum where they had an exhibition of a pop artist called Jim Rosenquist. I didn't like his stuff much – although there were one or two good ones – but they also had a few Picasso's and some bauhaus stuff that was good. In the afternoon I took the subway to the Empire State Building. It didn't seem that busy but took nearly 2 hours of queueing to reach the top – I'd hate to think what its like in the summer as it looked like they had capacity for twice as many people to stand in line. It was a clear day and the views of the city were great. Unlike Sears Tower in Chicago you can walk around on an outside terrace. However I am not sure it was really worth the wait, at least in the Sears Tower there were no lines, and you got a free movie about the city – which was extra in New York.
The Empire State Building at dusk.
I kept seeing film crews all over the place – in the station, Central Park and outside the central post office (which was also a very impressive building). Small stuff I think – TV and adverts (in Central Park it was chewing gum) – but I don't think its something you see as often in London.
After the Empire State Building it was back to Times Square to meet up with Janice. They film an MTV show there with a second floor window wall in the studio overlooking the street. There were crowds of screaming kids there hoping to get in the audience or just catch a glimpse of the stars. Some carried plaques trying to plead their case - “It's my 18th birthday today” and “We drove 3000 miles to see you...” Rather uncharitably I wondered how many were true.
Times Square at night
8th November
We were drinking in the city last night – starting around 5.30. We met up with Karen from skiiing and a couple of Janice's other friends. Got home at 3am, apparently. A little hung over this morning – although I think Janice is worse! Taking it easy and packing my stuff up again today – all clothes cleaned – as I'm back on the road tomorrow.
9th November. York, PA. 188 mile and only two states – neither of them new.
A short run today, for two very good reasons. The first being that is was very cold, barely over freezing. I had 4 layers of clother, 3 of gloves, and I was still shivering all the way. I was largely on Interstates as well, which meant higher speeds and more wind chill, but according to The Weather Channel (my new best friend) it was very cold all over the north east as winter finally arrived, later than usual. Looks like I am finally heading south with not a moment to lose. So why not travel further? I certainly had the time. Read on.
10th November. Shenandoah National Park, Virginia. 180 miles, 4 states. Top notch day!
Got up at seven this morning. It was the coldest night of the winter so far across a lot of the country. There was ice on my bike cover and the ignition was frozen up at first and wouldn't turn. However it has also been dry so no real danger of icy roads. I didn't have far to go for my first stop though – just two miles. This is because York is the site of one of Harley-Davidsons biggest assembly plants and they do free tours – all day, 5 days a week, with no shortage of takers if this morning was anything to go by. I had to go. It was great to see how they put the bikes together, all done to order so each one had a tag on the frame with all the build information and customisation requirements. When the tour guide found out I was English he was keen to point out a bike on the line that was due for export to the UK. We saw them pressing and hammering parts out of steel. They loved to stress that most of the parts were made in the US (since 1973 all Harley kickstandd have been made here) – although some wheels came from Australia, and how they only used American steel. People clearly enjoyed working there – one or two of the guides were clearlt past retirement age, and you could sense that they just didn't want to stop going there every day. I was actually the only person who rode in on a bike today, and I didn't even get any stick for it not being a Harley. It was the first time that I didn't walk straight through a gift shop, and couldn't help but buy a wallet with logo ( I needed a new one anyway – honestly).
By about 10.30 I was back on the road heading south west. Passed near Gettysburg but didn't stop. No breakfast so stopped for an early lunch at 'Fitzgeralds Shamrock Restaurant' somewhere near Catoctin Mountain in Maryland. Good food althoug about as Irish as I am. In the early afternoon crossed the Potomac river west of Washington DC into West Virginia (very briefly) then Virginia. At around 2.30 came into the town of Front Royal and the entrance to Shenandoah National Park, the beginning of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It cost $10 to enter the park on the Skyline Drive, 100 miles of protected park land immediately north of the much longer Blue Ridge Parkway. The speed limit through the park is 35mph but I was frequently going slower than that just to admire the views of the valleys below as the road climed higher. There weren't too many cars on the road and for long stretches I could avoid those that were by stopping at the many overlooks (laybys with a view) so that I could have to road to myself. It wasn't long before I saw a deer bounding across the road barely 50 yards in front of me. There were birds of prey hovering overhead which I later identified from a picture board as turkey vultures (there are wild turkeys here). More deer were standing right by the roadside, eating the grass and barely looked up as I rode past not 6 feet away. And then I saw the bear.
There was an overlook ahead and I slowed down to decide whether to stop. The sun was dropping and it was getting colder by the minute. Then I saw it, foraging right on the other side of the road – a (relatively) small black bear. I pulled over and got out the camera as quickly as I could, but it had moved just over a crest so I could still see it but not as well. It was probably still a cub so I was mindful that there might be a mother nearby. I watched it for maybe five minutes while it completely ignored me until it began to wander further away. I've seen bigger bears in zoos but being this close to a wild one was a totally different thing. It completely made my day.
At about 4.30 I pulled into the Skyland Lodge for the night. Its expensive but the room has a fantastic view over the valley below. Also it was getting too cold to go further – to give you an idea, I passed several places where sheets of ice clung to the rocks on the side of the road. I'm still only 40 miles into the park, and then I have the 470 miles of the Blue Ridge Parkway, largely regarded as giving the best views in the country. Although the cities are interesting, this is the sort of thing I came here for – to ride through wilderness.
11th November. Blowing Rock, North Carolina. 377 (!) miles.
The Skyline Drive ends and the Blue Ridge Parkway begins immediately. So far its the parkway that seems more remote and rugged. There are more evergreens now so the road feels more enclosed, although there are more open spaces. It could also be that its simply more overcast today, some light rain – which would keep a lot of traffic away. At one point this morning I came round a corner and had to brake quite hard to avoid two deer just standing in the middle of the road. They quickly scarpered thouhg unharmed.
I became a bit concerned about petrol so after about 50 miles or so I pulled off the parkway into the town of Buena Vista down in a valley. It ended up as a great choice – I stopped for brunch as I hadn't eaten breakfast, at a place uninspiringly called La Buena Vista. I didn't guess from the look of it (although in retrospect the name was a dead give away) but it was Mexican themed and they had an all you can eat buffet for $5.99. Naturally I stocked up with a bowl of soup, two full plates and some nachos, enough to last the rest of the day.
I rode long into the afternooon, stopping at 6.30 only as it was getting dark, because I wanted to keep going as long as possible. After lunch the skies cleared and it got warmer – perfect riding conditions, endless winding roads, hardly any traffic (I saw more deer than cars). I was laughing and singing all afternoon. The road dropped down to the city of Roanoake and for a while the landscape changed to something like rural Kent in the spring, with a bit of Cumbria thrown in. But it soon rose up again to follow the peaks. I probably should have stopped earlier but had set this place in my mind for tonight's stop. I'll explain why its called Blowing Rock tomorrow.
12th November. Franklin North Carolina. 218 miles.
Well, the Blowing rock was a big waste of time and money. A not particularly big rock, sticking out over a not so steep drop, where an updraft causes light stuff to rise rather than fall (sometimes). There is an Indian legend that says a princess threw herself off over some bloke – and was blown back up again so they lived happly ever after. It sounds so made up and the whole thing was not much to look at. There were some good views – but there are a lot of those round here that you don't have to pay six bucks for.
Back on the road it was definitely warmer today and I shed the winter layers. Saw a lot more bikers as well, which is a good sign of improving conditions. More great riding in the sun throughout the morning, but after lunch the wind picked up and the cloud came down so I had to concentrate more. At one point I rose up to the lower edges of the cloud base and became a little concerned – but shortly after I went past a sign saying the road was at its highest point – just over 6,000 feet – so I figured it wouldn't get any worse and it didn't. The most frustrating thing was that I could not complete the full length of the Parkway. About five miles from the southern end the road was closed and I was forced to detour. It took me through a Cherokee reservation which looked like a very run down town. The only attraction being a casino that brings in the tourists.
I was getting a sore backside so pulled over for the night in Franklin, a few miles short of where I had wanted to be. It is odd that on some days I can ride for longer more comforatably than others. Franklin turned out to be a big mistake for one reason – not a single bar to be found. After wandering around for a while, I asked the guy at the motel office and he confrmed it – there aren't any here. It explains the sign I saw in a cafe window, something like “Member of the Business Economic Emergence Referendum” - take your time if you need to. Horror of horrors – I'm in a dry town. The guide book really should warn about such things.
Oh and I passed the 2,000 mile mark today
In North Carolina? There is some connection here – Scots settled in the area, and they are apparently twinned with a museeum in the highlands – so its all genuine and not just a tourist trap then.
13th November. Montgomery Alabama. 332 miles, 2 state lines.
Today was all about wind and speed. It was very gusty – enough to blow me about on the road a bit. Stopped for petrol mid-morning around Gainnesville, Georgia. Over a hot chocolate the two ladies behind the counter told me about how uptight the Yankees are in comparison with southerners, but that Alabama only exists to stop the storms hitting Georgia. I told them I was bypassing Atlanta (barely 50 miles away) – and they said this was a good idea because I would almost certainly get killed there. I then told them I was heading for New Orleans – and they explained that while I was likely to have a good time, they were evil people there practising black magic. I got the impression that these two didn't get around much, and were quite happy about that, however they were very friendly apart from that.
Going round Atlanta involved lots of miles on fast Interstates, with at times 6 lanes in each direction. Going along at the 70mph speed limit I was the slowest thing on the road. At one point I got lost, took the wrong exit and went past 'Guildford Village'. Crossing into Alabama I went through Manchester where I was confronted with a large roadside sign saying “Beckham's Home Health” - maybe I should have stopped and explained that he has moved on!
I really don't get some aspects of the US. I'm staying in a motel outside the state capital and there are several on this side of the road - a major thoroughfare. But the restaurants are all over the other side and there are no pedestiran crossings. I braved the crossing because I needed a few beers after a tiring day, and none yesterday. However earlier I had bumped into an English couple who had spotted my license plate. They were here in a car, but were bikers back home, and they got in their car just to get to the other side of the road – at that time it was ruch hour so there was no choice. They really do make it dificult for you to drink around here.
Another first – I saw two prison road gangs. Not quite like the movies – no visible chains or guards hefting shotguns. The first time there was a but parked on the raodside saying “State Prisoners”, but the second time there was actually a road sign saying “prisoners at work” , all they seemed to be doing was picking up litter – not diggind trenches with big pick axes – which is what they always do in the films.
I also gained an hour today by crossing a time zone – back into central time where I started in Chicago.
14th November. Biloxi, Mississipi. 282 miles, 1 state line.
I decided to shortcut the guide book route today to cut out about a days riding and get me into New Orleans for the weekend. I took a country road that followed roughly an interstate route, just in case, but it turned out to be a very nice ride with very little traffic on the road. I was down to a t-shirt underneath my jacket and at first it felt a little chilly, however as the day wore on it got warmer. I spent a lot of time riding through a managed logging forest. Quite a few log trucks went by, and in the middle there was a paper manufacturing plant. I had a very nice late breakfast in a iner in Brewton, where the waitress thought my accent was 'lovely' – I actually like the southern accent above any others, its quite lyrical.
Biloxi is on the Gulf of Mexico. Originally a fishing town it is now a local centre for casinos, so presumably the fishing industry was not doing so well. It also has a beach with very white sand that even though it is very warm here looked almost untouched. It was practically raked over with only a very few signs that anybody had been on it. Of course I made sure I got some sand between my shoes, sharing it only with some old guy with a metal detector.
Simon will be pleased that I ate at Hooters, which was the businest I had seen almost any place I had been to, but it is Friday.
I'm only a couple of hours from New Orleans here – a deliberate decision to give me plenty of time to find a hotel when I get there.
Sunset on the Gulf of Mexico.
15th November. New Orleans, Louisiana – French Quarter. 78 miles, 1 state line
I want to live here. I can't put my finger on it but within two hours I had come to this conclusion. Okay so its a massively over commercialised party town, but I have walked along empty residential streets less than half a mile from the main action. There are 24 hour bars here and its one of the only places in the US where you can drink on the streets (there are little booths with no bar space selling beer to go) but it is also full of soul. There are strip joints but there are also bars with some fantastic live music, blues jazz and cajun mostly, but other stuff as well. Okay its low season and during Mardi Gras (where I hear hotels are booked 2 years in advance) its probably a teaming hell of people, but it doesn't matter. All town centres should be built like this. It feels like all of life is on these streets.
I think I know what it is – life here is designed to be lived on the street. I'm reminded of a bar Steve to me to in central Sao Paulo. It was a tiny place in a bad neighbourhood, but one of the most popular in the city. Most of their customers were outside. This is what its like here – only more of it. My best advice to you is – come to New Orleans, and the meaning of life will be revealed.
I found a shop selling autographed souvenirs. They've got guitars signed by just about everybody – Clapton, BB King, Elvis, Paul McCartney, Lynyrd Skynyrd, etc. Most are cheap guitars selling for thousands because of those signatures, apparently they usually start as charity auction pieces. Their real prize though is a guitar played, but not signed, by Stevie Ray Vaughan in one of his last concerts. Its on sale for $60,000 as opposed to another one signed but not played for around $7,000 (more expensive of course because he is now dead). I can tell you right now if I thought I could really afford it I would buy that 60 grand guitar.
16th November. Same place.
Okay so I was a litle drunk when I wrote that yesterday over my jambalaya, and I got a lot more drunk later just going round bars listening to the bands. But I stand by most of it (and its not edited from my notes), especially the part about wanting to live here. Its Sunday lunch and I'm eating seafood gumbo back in the French Quarter. My hotel is about 8 miles from here as its almost impossible to get a room actually in the French Quarter at a reasonable rate with no notice, on a Saturday. Yesterday I took a free shuttle bus provided by the hotel but today it got booked up at the best times for me, so I came in on the bike, as I'm not plannng on drinking after last night. For some reason this morning my bike was covered in ants. I think it may have been because of the cover catching a lot of condensation.
There are still loads of people wandering round. There is a great market and everything is open. Loads of bikers on harleys just cruising around. Last night I came across a street where there were loads of them parked up outside what must have been a bikers bar. Most of them were highly customised and they were clearly brought to show them off. The weather is warm (shorts temperatures) and humid but not oppressive – though I imagine it is in the summer. There are street performers all over the place – music, magic, balloons, and acrobatics in a prime spot where some steps make a mini amphtheatre. Fortune telling is massive here too – must be that voodoo influence. All around Jackson Sqaure, by the Mississipi river, every 5 metres or so there is somone at a little table waiting to read tarot cards, palms or crystals. Mostly large women of a certain age and bearded 60's throwbacks. But a skinny blond in her sixties with a long black evening dress and feather hat; a younger bloke who wouldn't look out of place punting in Cambridge – straw boater and all. Lots of artists as well – cariacatures as wel as some very good paintings – mostly focussed on Mardi Gras imagery.
I have been outside the French Quarter now where it is more of a conventional US city – but not quite. There are street cars (I am told you can't call them trams I am told), its not really high rise, the streets are wide and open. It still looks like a great place. But tomorrow I must move on. I haven't quite managed all the practicalities that I wanted to get done here, like all my washing (I'll be recycling t-shirts next week) but I have discovered that washing my boxers in the sink with the complimentary shampoo is quite effective.
I watched the acrobats for a while – a group of black blokes from New York. They put on a great show, working the crowd very well – they made a big show of coming round with buckets for money, calling attention to anybody putting larger notes in. It seemed as if they did very well – especially as they obviously did a lot of these in one day.
After the show I was sitting down writing up my notes and got talking to a middle aged woman sitting nearby. Her name was Sharon, she said she was Nicaraguan but had really grown up in the US. It turned out she was a writer researching for a book on homelessness. She spent a lot of time with homeless people around New Orleans. People have called me brave for taking this trip – but she was putting herself in real danger to produce this book. We had quite a long chat, i think she was a bit stoned, but it was very interesting. I had to go as I wanted to get back to the hotel before dark. It started to rain big fat drops, but fortunately didn't last long and by the time I got to my bike it was dry. As I was leaving the party was getting under way again on Bourbon Street – I don't think they ever have a quiet night here.