The Voyage Home
Trip Start
May 30, 2008
1
28
Trip End
Ongoing
London, England, United Kingdom
Thursday, January 1, 2009
If the rules and regulations of Greyhound were bad enough then this was nothing compared to the bus station. This was definitely a unique experience in waiting at one of these terminals. It had been obvious to me that the types of people who use this method of transport are those that don't have a pot to piss in - of which I was just another statistic. Memphis bus station was certainly a decrepit and decaying place, as were its people who waited for their bus out of Palookaville. The people had a look on their features, which told me that they couldn't afford to eat properly; hence they were a fast-food generation where the bloated and worn faces were the result of poverty mixed in with poor dietary habits. It was certainly a depressing sight and one that made me want to get to Albuquerque as soon as possible. Thankfully, Nashville, my first port of call was only a four-hour journey.
Nashville would be the only place on my travels where I wasn't going to be spending any time in and whilst that slightly disappointed me - it didn't last too long. Nashville's skyline was just like everywhere else. American cities by this time had severely bored me. Pretty it certainly was not and made me think of European cities and why they attract so many American tourists. I have often heard from many Americans over the years how their country has no history. This is not strictly true as they have over 200 years worth. However, on this trip I realised that with history comes classic architecture and this is something that Americans realise they don't have, this being a distinct feature of European cities. As a result of this I wasn't too bothered about my brief tenure here. The Grand Ole Opry would have to wait for another day.
The consistency of Greyhound bus stations has always been the amount of homeless who litter the streets outside these venues. Nashville, whilst not having numerous bums had one or two who liked to introduce themselves to you and then wait around to collect their dollar. One such gentleman called Mike gave me directions to my hostel but left empty handed. It is a sad state of affairs when a traveller can't enter a new town without being harassed by people demanding money from you. And anyway why would you want to ask a traveller with a beaten up duffel bag for money? Wouldn't it make more sense to look for someone whose luggage looks in pristine condition? Hopefully Mike has read this blog and knows next time to harass rich travellers as they leave these sad places that masquerade as bus stations. Still, for all this the directions he gave me took me to the Music City Hostel. The walk was a little longer than anticipated and left me with a sore shoulder but it did save me precious dollars in not paying for a taxi, which at this juncture was vital. Any money saved would go towards food. Quality food would be hard to come by during my next journey so a decent meal was vital before heading to Albuquerque. That journey would be close to 30 hours so having a filling supper was crucial in keeping my energy levels high. Fast food was off the menu and it was a restaurant called Jerusalem that took my fancy. I decided against singing the Labour Party tune of that name, primarily because I can't hit the high notes anymore. If I could have done then I would definitely have sung for my supper, instead I paid my 10 dollars and had a fantastic Middle Eastern delicacy of Shishlik Kebab, rice, salad and pitta. And so there ended not only my Nashville experience but my stay at hostels. Wherever my future travels would take me it wouldn't be via a hostel. No sir, it would be cheap motels and hotels for this long distanced traveller.
The morning light once again showed Nashville in all its glory, which was no different from the previous evening. To me it was surprising that during this Sunday morning no one was about. Its eeriness was clearly evident, although the fact that it was Sunday probably meant that everyone was in church. Billboard adverts around the city displayed messages promoting the way of Jesus. Tennessee had tried but had failed to gain another convert to the Christian way of life; and my mother for one would certainly be pleased about that.
Nashville's impact on me was not quite complete as I found out upon entering the bus terminal. If I had thought that Memphis bus station had some of the poorest people then I was sadly mistaken, as this unwanted honour went to Nashville. The people in here were some of the strangest looking people I have encountered during my time in America. These were definitely the world's worst rejects and once again yours truly was amongst the mix. There was nothing I could do except watch the world unfold in front of my eyes and hope that the time passed quickly before my bus would arrive and get me out of here. One incident left the packed terminal in shock as we watched a guy who had been the victim of an unprovoked attack attempt to attack the Security Guard who was trying to calm him down. As a result of this the gentleman in question found himself leaving the station via a Police car. A day in the cells would be the result of his actions.
After a 40-minute delay my bus arrived and Nashville became a thing of the past. I was lucky during my journey to St Louis that I sat next to a very interesting 18-year-old American Muslim. Armish was certainly a very knowledgeable person and throughout the trip we conversed on a variety of subjects, which had been my constant diet upon meeting strangers on my travels. In stark contrast to Armish was my next travelling companion who was a 21-year-old army lad returning from Afghanistan. He was also interesting and gave me a wonderful insight into the military world and his life prior to joining the armed forces. However, he departed at Tulsa, which left me with 13 hours still to travel. Although it was slow going the hours did pass and just after 4pm I arrived in Albuquerque, thus ending my Greyhound experiences.
There was definitely the feeling of relief once I grabbed my bag and headed for the Super 6 motel. A shower, food and a comfy bed where all I wanted and this basic motel gave me that. As final evenings went it wasn't an emotional affair. There was no reminiscing particularly about the previous seven months. I had been reliving those moments throughout my adventure and this evening was spent watching boxing on the television, as well as some shitty TV, which was just the tonic. The excitement factor hadn't reached fever pitch and nor would it as I prepared for my final two flights of the year. My spell of freedom was about to become a thing of the past and the conventional world was awaiting me at Heathrow Airport, however my mind would always relive these experiences and that would be my mechanism for always being free. And as Oasis once sang 'I'm Free to do whatever I want and I'll sing the blues if I want.' Whatever tomorrow may bring it would never take away my spirit - as that would always be free.
Arriving at Albuquerque Airport in good time gave me the opportunity to prepare for Houston. Houston was my first stop and the scene of my entry into America back in May. That experience had given me something to write about and had kick-started my blog. Oh the joys of the wonderful welcoming committee the Americans lay on for us Johnny Foreigners. However, this time thankfully there was nothing to report about and it was smooth sailing as I boarded my Continental flight to London. And the smoothness of my journey continued on the plane as I watched two films (On the Waterfront and Escape from Alcatraz), an episode of Extras, listened to the brilliant music of Eddie Cochran and pretty much relaxed during the eight hour flight. The realisation that British soil was approaching fast didn't faze me in any way. I had experienced returning home from lengthy trips before and knew what to expect, however this time there was going to be family waiting for us and that was an added bonus. And as the clock approached seven in the morning the wheels touched down and I was once again in England. After encountering passport control I picked up my bag and then headed towards the exit. Taking a deep breath I pushed the doors opened and saw my mother and stepfather. It was a nice feeling to see my loved ones and soon after hugging my mum, my father arrived for his hug. The journey was officially over - well until the next time.
I may not have found the Holy Grail or seen the new messiah or even found the meaning of life but I did achieve all that I set out to do. My life has been enriched for this experience and my evolvement had continued. The next big challenge awaits me, but for now I can bask in the glory of the lonesome traveller with the big beard. However, the last word goes to the wonderful readers of my blog. Thank you for your kind words and enjoyment of my adventures because without the encouragement the blog might have been a short lived affair - and the world would certainly have looked a far bleaker place.
Stay cool won't you!
