Hola Amigos,
Well, I've arrived in South America for the first time, and am currently writing from Lima, Peru.
It was a rather harrowing journey too, but nothing i cant handle.
Briefly:
Sept 18th - fly to Sydney, spend the weekend there.
Sept 21st 4am - wake up and head to airport for a 6.15am flight to Auckland. I dont sleep.
3hr flight, Arrive Auckland 11am-ish local time. 5ish hr layover at Auckland airport. No sleep.
Sept 21st 4.40pm local time - depart Auckland, 11hr flight, heating on full blast, too hot to sleep, watch 3movies straight, no sleep.
Sept 21st 11.30am local time....arrive SAntiago, Chile...i have travelled backwards in time!!. i arrived here 5 hrs earlier than i left Auckland!...how cool is that!
RANDOM AWESOME MOMENT #1
Make my way by Public Transport to the city. Meet up with random Irish backpacker, James, whose birthday is the day before mine (ie: today). still no sleep. i dont want to sleep in the middle of the day and keep the body clock in ruins.
we walk around the city for a few hours, beautiful, but not so good in the rain.
3pm - Return to hostel...plans are to hit the town tonight for James and my birthday with some other backpackers...decide to finally get some sleep - a 3hr power nap should do it....
it has been about 28hrs since i last slept, i have time travelled backwards and covered some 11000 Km's.
6pm - wake up, contemplate, but never actually get to dinner. all i have eaten since Sydney is airline food and a Burger King at Auckland airport.
10pm - FREE BEER!!! - the hostel puts out a slab every night at 10 for the guests. AWESOME!!!
Midnight of 22nd Sept, my birthday - time to hit the town: a coupla bars and a nightclub.
5am - return to the hostel, hammered drunk, no time for sleep. need to get to the airport for a 7.30am flight to Lima. Taxi is ordered.
7.30am - on board the plane, pass out, dont remember take-off, wake up mid flight for brekky, back to sleep. In "real time" i have had the sum total of 3hrs sleep out of 36hrs.
10.30am - arrive Lima, thankfully i had pre-arranged an airport pick-up from my hostel....there was no way I was gonna be able to deal with Peruvian public transport or taxis, suffering from mass sleep deprivation and a raging hangover.
11am - arrive at my hostel, crash out, remainder of daylight hours a write-off.
RANDOM AWESOME MOMENT #2
6PM - wake up, get chatting to Aussie girl in bunk next to mine...Amelia lives in a neighbouring suburb to me, Northcote, in the same street that once lived in back at Uni, Clarke Street...she also has the exact same backpack as me and also has a penchant for sewing flag patches on to it.
We go out to dinner with a friend of hers....my first real meal since Sydney 48hrs ago.
Back at the hostel...crash out, soooo super tired now...i think jet-lag still has a hold on me
Sept 23rd *today*
Light brekky at the hostel...have to check out and move across town to another hotel where my Macchu Picchu Inca Trail group is meeting
Midday: arrive at new hotel...decide to have a quick kip before having a wander around Miraflores, the suburb i am in......6hrs later i wake up from my comatose state, light-headed and woozy...
....maybe i should slow down???...nah, its the evening, gotta check out this place before i leave tomorrow morn for one last flight to Cuzco..wake up call will be at 6.30am.
phew!
Later,
Tony
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Monday, November 10, 2008
travelling again - for a short while
I'm back on the road again...but this time for a, by my standards, very short trip - 5 weeks. I'll be doing the Trans-Siberian Railway from St. Petersburg, Russia to Beijing, China, via Mongolia, with a tour group called "Vodka-Train", and then back on the train solo to complete the Trans-Sib route to Vladivostok, then back home via Seoul, Korea.
I've got a few days beforehand tho...
I left Melbourne on Thursday morning, flying Korean Air to Seoul, a lazy 9 hour flight. With my next stop being Moscow, and the next flight not for 16 hours, Korean Air kindly put me up overnight at the Hyatt Regency (if you don't mind!! :-) - very happy 'bout that!)...and arranged for dinner and brekky the next morning to be 'on the house'. Eating buffet-style for free at a 4-5 star hotel...I could get used to this....big kudos to Korean Air. I'd fly them again anytime.
After another 10 hours to Moscow, I arrived at around 7pm, I then had to endure another hour of queueing to get thru Russian immigration....very officious mob these guys. I guess it harks back to the Soviet Communist days. Once I got thru that, I decided to opt out of the potential rip-off of a Russian taxi into downtown Moscow, and caught the local bus. Over an hour later, crammed in like sardines, we trundled slowly along the motorway in Moscuvite peak-hour traffic (it seems peak hour lasts until after 9pm at least here!). This took me as far as the outer edges of the Moscow Metro, and then I had to catch two Metro trains, changing lines after a few stops. All this after the afore-mentioned 10hour flight and hour long queue....wish I had've gotten the cab, hey!!.
Trying to figure all this out with only written instructions, no maps to work from (my Lonely Planet didn't have a Moscow Metro map in it), how to buy/ask for the right ticket, while jet-lagged up to the eyeballs, well it was some challenge!
By this stage its 9pm. Still haven't made it to my hostel either. it was supposed to be "5minutes walk". Could not find it. In the end, I borrowed a phone from a stranger and rang them for directions, and finally lobbed in at "Godzilla's Hostel" at sometime after 10pm.
Tired? Betchya arse I was!
I flopped into my bed and passed out instantly, not opening my eyes again til 8am next morning.
I've got a few days beforehand tho...
I left Melbourne on Thursday morning, flying Korean Air to Seoul, a lazy 9 hour flight. With my next stop being Moscow, and the next flight not for 16 hours, Korean Air kindly put me up overnight at the Hyatt Regency (if you don't mind!! :-) - very happy 'bout that!)...and arranged for dinner and brekky the next morning to be 'on the house'. Eating buffet-style for free at a 4-5 star hotel...I could get used to this....big kudos to Korean Air. I'd fly them again anytime.
After another 10 hours to Moscow, I arrived at around 7pm, I then had to endure another hour of queueing to get thru Russian immigration....very officious mob these guys. I guess it harks back to the Soviet Communist days. Once I got thru that, I decided to opt out of the potential rip-off of a Russian taxi into downtown Moscow, and caught the local bus. Over an hour later, crammed in like sardines, we trundled slowly along the motorway in Moscuvite peak-hour traffic (it seems peak hour lasts until after 9pm at least here!). This took me as far as the outer edges of the Moscow Metro, and then I had to catch two Metro trains, changing lines after a few stops. All this after the afore-mentioned 10hour flight and hour long queue....wish I had've gotten the cab, hey!!.
Trying to figure all this out with only written instructions, no maps to work from (my Lonely Planet didn't have a Moscow Metro map in it), how to buy/ask for the right ticket, while jet-lagged up to the eyeballs, well it was some challenge!
By this stage its 9pm. Still haven't made it to my hostel either. it was supposed to be "5minutes walk". Could not find it. In the end, I borrowed a phone from a stranger and rang them for directions, and finally lobbed in at "Godzilla's Hostel" at sometime after 10pm.
Tired? Betchya arse I was!
I flopped into my bed and passed out instantly, not opening my eyes again til 8am next morning.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
THEY SAY BAD LUCK COMES IN 3’S
THEY SAY BAD LUCK COMES IN 3’S – I HOPE THIS IS MY THREE…COZ I JUST WANT TO MOVE ON FROM THIS PERIOD OF MY LIFE.
Man, I just can’t seem to take a trick at the moment…and forgive me if I sound like a whingeing bastard. Let me just run you thru what’s happened in the month of December for me – possibly the most frustrating and demoralising month for me in a long time.
Okay, #1 –
You may remember me mentioning that I was applying for a job with Flight Centre Travel Agency, basically for me an entry into an industry that I had decided I wanted to pursue a career in after not knowing what I wanted to do during my entire adult life. I didn’t get it. In Australia, this is the one and only Travel Industry company that advertises its positions as ‘no experience required’. All other travel agencies require at least 1-2 years industry experience. As a result, Flight Centre is recognized as the main ‘foot in the door’ to this industry. It seems as though if you can’t get in here, then the rest of your opportunities are incredible limited. As I say, I didn’t get the job, and I was well f**ked over in the way it all happened.
After getting thru most of the rather gruelling interview process, including an interview with an Area manager (which went very, very well in my opinion), I was granted the opportunity for an in-store assessment, and at this stage I thought it was a mere formality that I’d be hired, it was in the bag, it was a done deal. I was very, very excited, and anxious to get moving on this fantastic new role. They said that they would ‘get back to me’ regards an opening. After a week and a ½, I was told that they’d ‘get back to me in another week’ with some news. A further 10 days after that I contacted them again, only to be told that suddenly no place could be found, and that my application would be placed ‘on hold’. It remained that way for almost a month.
Any communication with the HR folks only occurred when I chased them with a phone call – very frustrating, as they were hardly forthcoming with any news themselves.
I then finally received a call suggesting another interview with another Area Manager – which I readily accepted. Another week after that passed with no word. I finally called them again, only to be told that “my application was unsuccessful” – the 2nd Area Manager interview was given the thumbs down, and that they would not be pursuing any positions for me…despite the first Area Manager willing to place me as soon as a position became available.
I was asked if I would like any ‘feedback’ on why I was not successful - of course I would!! – but it’s been another two weeks and I’ve heard nought back. A very disappointing outcome, and a very disappointing way in which Flight Centre have handled my application. I honestly get the feeling that had I not chased them on any news, I would have died waiting. Very unprofessional. It doesn’t take much to make a phone call in the timeframe you promise to.
Right now then #2
Leading up to Christmas I was looking for some extra work to bolster my cash supplies and help pay off my Credit Card debt. I happened upon a potential mini-goldmine doing a 3-day temping gig for Telstra on Dec 24, 25, 26 – that’s right Christmas Eve, Day, and Boxing Day – doing Inbound Call Centre mobile phone activations. At close to $40 per hour, it was simple work and easy, easy money. I would earn close to $1000 after tax! Or so I thought. After having this work guaranteed and booked in for almost a month, Telstra pulled the pin on it on December 23rd – they hadn’t sold enough pre-pay phones and had over-estimated the number of Call Centre staff they would need. I was one of the crew that got cut. Bummer. I was soooo looking forward to that little bonanza.
And finally, #3
I did manage to snaffle a little bit of extra work on New Years Eve, working as a Crowd Marshall in the City, helping to direct foot traffic around the city to the various celebratory locations and fireworks viewing points – a 13 hour shift earning close to $300. I almost wish I hadn’t taken it. At the close of the shift at 2am, with nothing else to do (after trying to contact 4 of my friends to hook up with for NYE drinks), a co-worker invited me to a house party she was attending in St. Kilda.
Kate and I arrived at around 3.30am, stone cold sober. She only knew one other person there – it was a pretty open party – and we sat down with her mate Gareth at the rear of the enormous backyard. It was pretty happening, despite the late hour. There were still at least 40-odd folks dancing around to the music, and everyone was very, very drunk…mostly paraletic in fact. The hour being what it was, there was almost no booze left…except - there was a cask of (very bad – as we would find out later) cask red wine untouched, and we were invited to drink that. It was horrible, but at least we were getting a drink in on New Years Eve.
About an hour and 2-3 polystyrene cups of wine later, we spot Gareth stumbling in the backyard holding a massive wad of tissue paper to his head drenched in blood. He had tripped over and face-planted to the concrete, cracking his head open. Everyone else was like “oh my God, what do we do” – so drunk they couldn’t function. I decided to play Good Samaritan and call the Ambulance and make sure this guy gets help. I’m on the phone to 000 and waiting out the front to flag the ambulance down, but them I’m told “Cancel it – he can’t afford the fee, we’ll take him to hospital in a cab”. The cab arrives, he and Kate and another guy get in and head off. I head back in to the backyard, back to where we were sitting…..AND MY BACKPACK I WAS CARRYING IS GONE!!! MISSING??? STOLEN???? I have no idea. It had my ipod (!!), sunnies, clothes, shoes, a notebook/diary with about 100 numbers and addresses in it, and assorted other valuables and kick-knacks in it. About $800 worth all together. Some f**king prick took my bag while I was helping out a guy - a total stranger no less - in serious trouble, severely injured – a guy I had known for only 2 hours. What a f**king bastard!!!
I was furious and frantic at the same time. I spent the next hour searching around and asking everyone around if they had seen it, but nada. By this stage the party numbers had dwindled quite considerably, and daylight was coming. Even with the help of the light, I had no luck. My bag was gone. When I realised this, I felt demoralized, dejected, deflated and flattened, and purely downright beat. I almost wanted to slit a wrist.
All there was left to do was to go home. Which I did, alone and depressed, along with the last of the New Years revelers and stragglers, and on the train with ½ a dozen arrogant, arsehole Macedonian teenagers – who heckled, harassed and harangued everyone they laid eyes on. Finally, I got home to bed, but then to make matters worse, after I woke up, that 4 or 5 cups of cheap nasty cask red I’d had came back to haunt me with the most severe hangover I’d had in ages, rendering me couch-ridden, vomiting pure stomach bile into the bathroom sink all afternoon
Over the next few days I lodged police reports, tried filing an insurance claim, and attempted to contact a couple of people whose numbers I got from the party to no avail…it was, gone.
So, my unlucky three – missing out on a dream job, missing out on an easy $1000 work, and losing $800 of personal belongings – all in the space of about 10 days. When the last of these happened, I was honestly thinking “what in the world have I done to offend the Gods, Why me???” I honestly have no idea as to why this run of luck has happened to me, it seems I can’t take a frigging trick at the moment. It’s like a kick in the guts, a blow that has really sat me on my arse and left me feeling at a truly low ebb. Here I am trying to get my life back in order, making a go of things to live the kind of life I want to live, working hard, and all this shit happened to me.
I really feel in a bad place right now. Again, I just needed to get this off my chest, so that I can move on and try and put it behind me.
Cheers, Tony
Man, I just can’t seem to take a trick at the moment…and forgive me if I sound like a whingeing bastard. Let me just run you thru what’s happened in the month of December for me – possibly the most frustrating and demoralising month for me in a long time.
Okay, #1 –
You may remember me mentioning that I was applying for a job with Flight Centre Travel Agency, basically for me an entry into an industry that I had decided I wanted to pursue a career in after not knowing what I wanted to do during my entire adult life. I didn’t get it. In Australia, this is the one and only Travel Industry company that advertises its positions as ‘no experience required’. All other travel agencies require at least 1-2 years industry experience. As a result, Flight Centre is recognized as the main ‘foot in the door’ to this industry. It seems as though if you can’t get in here, then the rest of your opportunities are incredible limited. As I say, I didn’t get the job, and I was well f**ked over in the way it all happened.
After getting thru most of the rather gruelling interview process, including an interview with an Area manager (which went very, very well in my opinion), I was granted the opportunity for an in-store assessment, and at this stage I thought it was a mere formality that I’d be hired, it was in the bag, it was a done deal. I was very, very excited, and anxious to get moving on this fantastic new role. They said that they would ‘get back to me’ regards an opening. After a week and a ½, I was told that they’d ‘get back to me in another week’ with some news. A further 10 days after that I contacted them again, only to be told that suddenly no place could be found, and that my application would be placed ‘on hold’. It remained that way for almost a month.
Any communication with the HR folks only occurred when I chased them with a phone call – very frustrating, as they were hardly forthcoming with any news themselves.
I then finally received a call suggesting another interview with another Area Manager – which I readily accepted. Another week after that passed with no word. I finally called them again, only to be told that “my application was unsuccessful” – the 2nd Area Manager interview was given the thumbs down, and that they would not be pursuing any positions for me…despite the first Area Manager willing to place me as soon as a position became available.
I was asked if I would like any ‘feedback’ on why I was not successful - of course I would!! – but it’s been another two weeks and I’ve heard nought back. A very disappointing outcome, and a very disappointing way in which Flight Centre have handled my application. I honestly get the feeling that had I not chased them on any news, I would have died waiting. Very unprofessional. It doesn’t take much to make a phone call in the timeframe you promise to.
Right now then #2
Leading up to Christmas I was looking for some extra work to bolster my cash supplies and help pay off my Credit Card debt. I happened upon a potential mini-goldmine doing a 3-day temping gig for Telstra on Dec 24, 25, 26 – that’s right Christmas Eve, Day, and Boxing Day – doing Inbound Call Centre mobile phone activations. At close to $40 per hour, it was simple work and easy, easy money. I would earn close to $1000 after tax! Or so I thought. After having this work guaranteed and booked in for almost a month, Telstra pulled the pin on it on December 23rd – they hadn’t sold enough pre-pay phones and had over-estimated the number of Call Centre staff they would need. I was one of the crew that got cut. Bummer. I was soooo looking forward to that little bonanza.
And finally, #3
I did manage to snaffle a little bit of extra work on New Years Eve, working as a Crowd Marshall in the City, helping to direct foot traffic around the city to the various celebratory locations and fireworks viewing points – a 13 hour shift earning close to $300. I almost wish I hadn’t taken it. At the close of the shift at 2am, with nothing else to do (after trying to contact 4 of my friends to hook up with for NYE drinks), a co-worker invited me to a house party she was attending in St. Kilda.
Kate and I arrived at around 3.30am, stone cold sober. She only knew one other person there – it was a pretty open party – and we sat down with her mate Gareth at the rear of the enormous backyard. It was pretty happening, despite the late hour. There were still at least 40-odd folks dancing around to the music, and everyone was very, very drunk…mostly paraletic in fact. The hour being what it was, there was almost no booze left…except - there was a cask of (very bad – as we would find out later) cask red wine untouched, and we were invited to drink that. It was horrible, but at least we were getting a drink in on New Years Eve.
About an hour and 2-3 polystyrene cups of wine later, we spot Gareth stumbling in the backyard holding a massive wad of tissue paper to his head drenched in blood. He had tripped over and face-planted to the concrete, cracking his head open. Everyone else was like “oh my God, what do we do” – so drunk they couldn’t function. I decided to play Good Samaritan and call the Ambulance and make sure this guy gets help. I’m on the phone to 000 and waiting out the front to flag the ambulance down, but them I’m told “Cancel it – he can’t afford the fee, we’ll take him to hospital in a cab”. The cab arrives, he and Kate and another guy get in and head off. I head back in to the backyard, back to where we were sitting…..AND MY BACKPACK I WAS CARRYING IS GONE!!! MISSING??? STOLEN???? I have no idea. It had my ipod (!!), sunnies, clothes, shoes, a notebook/diary with about 100 numbers and addresses in it, and assorted other valuables and kick-knacks in it. About $800 worth all together. Some f**king prick took my bag while I was helping out a guy - a total stranger no less - in serious trouble, severely injured – a guy I had known for only 2 hours. What a f**king bastard!!!
I was furious and frantic at the same time. I spent the next hour searching around and asking everyone around if they had seen it, but nada. By this stage the party numbers had dwindled quite considerably, and daylight was coming. Even with the help of the light, I had no luck. My bag was gone. When I realised this, I felt demoralized, dejected, deflated and flattened, and purely downright beat. I almost wanted to slit a wrist.
All there was left to do was to go home. Which I did, alone and depressed, along with the last of the New Years revelers and stragglers, and on the train with ½ a dozen arrogant, arsehole Macedonian teenagers – who heckled, harassed and harangued everyone they laid eyes on. Finally, I got home to bed, but then to make matters worse, after I woke up, that 4 or 5 cups of cheap nasty cask red I’d had came back to haunt me with the most severe hangover I’d had in ages, rendering me couch-ridden, vomiting pure stomach bile into the bathroom sink all afternoon
Over the next few days I lodged police reports, tried filing an insurance claim, and attempted to contact a couple of people whose numbers I got from the party to no avail…it was, gone.
So, my unlucky three – missing out on a dream job, missing out on an easy $1000 work, and losing $800 of personal belongings – all in the space of about 10 days. When the last of these happened, I was honestly thinking “what in the world have I done to offend the Gods, Why me???” I honestly have no idea as to why this run of luck has happened to me, it seems I can’t take a frigging trick at the moment. It’s like a kick in the guts, a blow that has really sat me on my arse and left me feeling at a truly low ebb. Here I am trying to get my life back in order, making a go of things to live the kind of life I want to live, working hard, and all this shit happened to me.
I really feel in a bad place right now. Again, I just needed to get this off my chest, so that I can move on and try and put it behind me.
Cheers, Tony
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Phoenix
My original plan for Phoenix was to spend 2, or maximum 3 days there, primarily to catch up with Bryan and Christine. After my first morning there I was contemplating possible just the one day and a night, then moving on, catching another bus north to my next stop at Flagstaff and the Grand Canyon...there just didn’t seem to be a whole lot to do, and everything was soooo spread out, and I didn’t have wheels.
I ended up staying 3nights and getting driven up to Flagstaff. And this was all because of one tiny little detail. While I was wandering about the City, I picked up a local street-press magazine, and noticed an ad for one of my favourite Irish bands, The Frames, playing this coming Tuesday night. I saw these guys live in Vancouver back in March, and they rock, big style. And if I missed these guys, it would be the third band in a week that I wanted to see that I’d miss.
Back in San Francisco, L.A. and San Diego, I missed by just a couple of days each time, Icelandic band Sigur Ros, and part-Aussie act Dead Can Dance (at The Hollywood Bowl, no less). I was so so so close to reconfiguring my entire trip to fit in DCD at The Bowl. For me, seeing my fave bands live is an integral part of who I am ...I couldn’t let this happen three times on this trip.
So mentioned this to Bryan, who basically said “Here’s a proposition for you. Stay here til Wednesday, you’re more than welcome, I’ll go this gig with you on Tuesday, and on Wednesday I’ll drive you up to Flagstaff, coz I’ve never been...and hey we’ll throw in ½ a day at Sedona en route”. Now that is a proposition you can hardly say No to.
Bryan and Christine are two of the most generous people I have met. It still amazes me to this day actually the generosity of people I have met over the years of my traveling, welcoming me into the homes and lives. Bryan and Christine are a perfect example of this. Inviting me into their home, particularly as Christine was heavily pregnant at the time, and acting as taxi and guide, I couldn't have been more thankful.
Arriving at their edge-of-the-desert suburban home, I was truly spun out by the size of the house. having gotten used to the smaller blocks of Ireland, living in a small house in Vancouver, and living out of my rucksack for the majority of recent times, the sheer spacious sprawl of their house befuddled me. I s'pose out here, on the outskirts of Phoenix and with nuthin' but space to play i guess they said 'why not'. The exact same thing i said when the offer a nice cool shower on the chance to wash my clothes came up!!
after a bit of a snooze and freshen up, the subject of 'what to do' came up. Squaw Peak Recreation Area, not a million miles away from Anthem has a number of hiking trails to attack, not least one to the summit of Squaw Peak, some 2608feet high and providing an awesome view over desert mountains and the sprawl of Phoenix city and 'burbs. A hike timed to finish at the peak just before sunset was the order of the day - yet another ideal photo op for me, and a chance to dust of the cobwebs in my muscles, give 'em a bit of a workout.
The view was something I could not have imagined, the sheer amount of space had me jaw-agape and making (quite reasonable) comparisons to home.
A stop off at a Thai restaurant en route home for a totally delicious meal just topped off the night.
With Bryan off to work at the crazy time of 5am, and the heat of the day reaching beyond 100 Fahrenheit, the next day was written off as a chill out that involved little more than a DVD-watching marathon(Team America - World Police being the highlight), with no plans til late afternoon - a desert highway drive to the Desert Botanical Gardens. Another gorgeous desert sunset beckoned. The Gardens are 145 acres, with thousands of arid-land plants and is a beatiful insight to the desert ecosystem, particularly the 20-foot-plus-tall Saguaro Cactus - the stereotypical type you see in Roadrunner cartoons. Stunning.
The sunset from the Gardens, of a 'nature' nature was almost surpassed on the drive home by a sunser of an 'urban' nature, so muc so that I had to stand up thru the sunroof to photograph it for posterity!!
Not wanting to waste another full day lazing about the house (as nice as it, its not why i'm here), I resolved to get up with Bryan at 4am for a drive to his work, where I would then sleep in his car to 7-ish when Public Transport kicked into gear. There is absolutely none in Anthem, so this was the only way i'd be able to get anywhere and utilise my day properly.
There was some touristy stuff that could be done in historic Scottsdale, which was en route to the university 'burb of Tempe.
Scottsdale's Old Town is known for it's early 20th Century buildings (and others built to look old, and is kinda quaint, but is basically home to a lot of upscale galleries and gift stores. There is definitely an artists colony kind of feel to the town, which is only accentuated by the random street art scupltures dotted about the place, like these.
Sitting at the bus stop again, waiting for a ride to Tempe, I was a little disturbed to see this shop sign.
I guess it kinda, unfortunately, backs up the stereotype of American's as gun-lovin' simpleton hicks when the sign advertising a gun store has a picture of a teddy bear holding a gun......shudder to think.
I was quite looking forward to seeing Tempe. It was originally a city in its own right, but over the years Phoenix's suburban sprawl eventually eclipsed Tempe, and it's now considered a large outlying 'burb of Pheonix. The city is home to the 46000-student-strong Arizona State University, and as such is typical of University towns - full of cool bars, restaurants and with a slight hippy/alternative edge. Several excellent record stores too. My Lonely Planet guide had a 'Recommended Music To Drive Thru The Desert To' section, and so it was my objective here to seek some of this music out, with some success I might add - Calexico's 'The Black Light' being prime desert listening, especially as they're from southern Arizonan city Tucson.
Eastside records was my muse here, and the guy behind the counter being the usual knows-everything-under-the-sun-about-music kinda guy that i love talking to.
Lunch was at Desert Greens Cafe, a fantastic natural foods grocery/co-op along the lines of Friends Of The Earth in Collingwood, Melbourne. deee-lish.
Having shopped and lunched, it was time to drink. 'Head on down to Mill Avenue' was the word on the street from a cuppla friendly enquiries, it's Tempe's main drag. I got in touch with Bryan too, who was finishing work at agreed to meet at The Library, a bar themed on, funnily enough, a library, with cute as hell waitresses in way-too-short tartan mini-skirts. A perfect spot for a university. You can tell your folks/mates/lecturers that you're going to the Library to 'study', and technically, you wouldn't be lying!!
Several beers later with Bryan, it was time to head towards the evenings entertainment at the Rhythm Room - my boys from Ireland, The Frames.
As told before, this band are almost bigger than Ben Hur in Ireland, and I had seen them at a comparatively small club in Vancouver. Now, here in Phoenix, I'd see them again in front of an audience of barely 50 people!! Awesome!!!
It was somewhat strange seeing them play with an entirely deserted dance floor in front of them, but credit to the boys, they still gave it their all, held nothing back, and Bryan was an instant convert. The final last few songs of the set finally saw some of the crowd venture forward, which then emboldened a few more, so by the final song, the venue seemed a little more filled. All in all, a great gig, with a good mixture of old songs with the new from Burn The Maps, their latest album.
Monday, December 26, 2005
San Diego - Phoenix
The overnight bus trip is a necessary evil for budget backpackers. It gets you from A to B and saves you a night’s accommodation fee at the same time.
And so it was with my trip from San Diego to Phoenix, Arizona. I had ruled out hitchhiking out along the I-8 after some advice from locals who know the score. To do that would be to head out into serious desert country, with daytime temperatures in September still hitting 110 Fahrenheit (over 40 celcius). There are loooooong distances between towns and not a whole lotta traffic either. Chances of getting picked up? Slim to marginal.
Okay then. A 9-hour overnighter on Greyhound should be easy enough. God knows I’ve done this plenty of times before, and for much longer time frames. Well, truth be told, I had a very, very restless sleep on this trip. I had a window seat, and therefore no legroom, and the bus was 99% full so couldn’t move to an aisle seat and stretch out. The air-con seemed to only work intermittently. I drifted in and out of travel sleep – the kind of sleep you get which is more of a semi-conscious doze, and I always seem to have very weird half-dreams, almost psychedelic sometimes.
When I did wake properly, it was the heat of the sun rising that did it. And glancing out of the window, I was almost glad I had a window seat, coz watching the sun show its first peek over the horizon, a deep orange glowing ball, and slowly rise up over the barren red earth desert that we were driving thru was just spectacular. This was the same sun that barely 12 hours ago I watched dip into the Pacific Ocean, and now I’m watching it rise out of the desert sands.
Arriving in Phoenix, somewhat behind schedule, I was incredibly strung out, tired, sweaty, and smelly, badly in need of a shower, coffee, and food. It was barely 7am and it was already roasting hot – I’m sure it was already close to 30 degrees (80-ish F). I needed some time to gather my thoughts. I was due to meet and stay with Bryan and Christine, a couple who I met in Dingle, Ireland while they were on honeymoon and I was on my last Irish hurrah. This was December 2004. We had hung out for a coupla days, and then I invited them to my leaving do, at which they duly showed up. We’ve been in semi-regular email touch ever since. But today, Bryan was working until around 2pm, and couldn’t meet or pick me up 'til then. And they lived in Anthem, a suburb a good 35miles north of the City. I needed to figure out what to do for the next 7 hours.
I spent about an hour of that wandering aimlessly around the bus station. There were no shower-hire facilities, the luggage storage compartments were out of order, and the information centre wasn’t yet opened. At least I could get coffee. And while changing into shorts and Tee, fumbling absent-mindedly thru my rucksack, I found a ½ empty pack of cigarettes – must have been from the Aussie Rules night…I vaguely remember getting hammered-drunk and buying a pack, which I do from time to time. I only smoke when I’m very drunk, or, as was the case now, when I’m really strung-out.
So, with coffee and two cigarettes in my system, I feel almost human again, and am finally able to string two thoughts together. A quick read thru the Lonely Planet reveals the not-so-startling fact, that there ain’t a whole lot to do in the downtown Phoenix area. There are a couple of decent museums, but that’s about it. Anything else worth seeing needs a car to drive there, this being one of America’s most sprawling metropolises.
After negotiating to leave my rucksack in the freight office of the bus station (no way was I gonna lug it around the city on foot in 30+ degree heat for 7 hours), I found a local bus that would take me into town.
It’s 9am by this stage. Amazingly to me, for a city almost 3million people, the Downtown core was dead, absolutely dead. I’m talking zero traffic. Maybe its coz it’s Sunday? I don’t know. But I honestly felt like I was walking around a ghost town, or a post-apocalyptic city that had just suffered a nuclear strike. The only signs of life I saw were the homeless bums in the park on Washington Street. It felt very weird. To be wandering amongst modern, steel and glass skyscraper corporate buildings, and to be able to cross 4-lane roads without a single car in sight??? Very strange.
I also now realised I needed to check my email – I didn’t have Bryan’s number written in my book. I only had it on email. Without being able to contact him, there was no way for me to confirm I’d arrived, or a meeting point. And there was nothing open, and even if there was, there wasn’t even anything that looked like it might have an Internet terminal.
Looking at my LP guidebook again, I noticed a HI hostel way out on the edge of Downtown. Only 10 blocks away. I may as well check it out, i've got nothing better to do right now, and it may have a connection, or at least be able to point me in the right direction. Now, as you prolly, know, I’m a fairly adventurous person, willing to take a few risks here and there, but as I’m getting into the neighbourhood where the hostel, I’m feeling a little sketchy. It feels like I’m wandering into 'the Hood'. Bryan was to tell me later that I wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town. What the hell a HI hostel was located there for, I don’t know. Anyways, I get there – and it has a bit of a shanty-shack feel to it, and no, there’s no Internet connection, and no, there ain’t any around here.
I need another coffee. The city seems to be waking up slightly now, a few more people on the road, but still no one on foot…No one walks here, they all drive. I find a café that’s open. Miracle. The chick, very friendly actually, at the café says, “yeah, we’ve got Internet connection, you got a laptop??” “Um...no”. That’s another thing I’ve noticed a lot in the States recently. There is a dearth of Internet café’s, but every Starbucks, Blenz and two-bit independent coffee shops have WiFi. That does me no good tho, or any other budget backpacker around. What backpacker do you know that carries a laptop in their rucksack???
The café chick did mention that if I jumped on a bus for 20minutes I could find a FedEx-Kinko’s, which had an expensive per-minute Net café. And it was right by one of the Museums I was contemplating checking out. Man, all this freakin’ effort for a phone number!!!! I was having a very difficult morning.
Phone number duly found, and contact made with Bryan, I spent about ¾ of an hour in the, apparently, world famous Heard museum, before I realised I now had to get back to the bus station, way out on the other side of Downtown, to meet him. Waiting for a bus on a Sunday morning in Phoenix certainly is a true test of one’s patience. This is one of the most car-centric cities in the most car-centric country in the world. ½ a day here, and I’ve learnt that Public Transport is woeful. I found PT excellent in San Francisco, and serviceable even in Los Angeles, San Diego’s good, but here in Phoenix?...Man, pitiful. I took to walking between stops, just so as I felt like I was actually getting somewhere, and after 40minutes or so I was finally able to get one. But that only took me part of the way, when I had to change and wait for another. The morning trip into town was just as bad, too.
It’s now 1pm. Once again, I walked between stops, keeping a keen eye out so I didn’t miss one flying past me between stops. Back on the right side of Downtown now for the bus station, I wander past an enormous Baseball stadium. Phoenix Vs San Diego. This part of the city is now buzzing, and the traffic has come to life, cops directing people every which way, and drinks and ice-cream vendors out in force. Thank God for icy-cold water!! I had walked about ¾ of the way back out to the bus station, when I finally saw my bus number come up. Sheesh!
I seem to be whingeing a bit here, I know. Not sure if that’s just how the city affected me, or if it was my state-of-mind after a pretty ordinary bus trip. Nevertheless, when Bryan met me, it was a sigh of relief. Good to see the boy again, and there was a lot to catch up on in almost a year’s absence. With a 35mile drive ahead, we had a bit of time.
And so it was with my trip from San Diego to Phoenix, Arizona. I had ruled out hitchhiking out along the I-8 after some advice from locals who know the score. To do that would be to head out into serious desert country, with daytime temperatures in September still hitting 110 Fahrenheit (over 40 celcius). There are loooooong distances between towns and not a whole lotta traffic either. Chances of getting picked up? Slim to marginal.
Okay then. A 9-hour overnighter on Greyhound should be easy enough. God knows I’ve done this plenty of times before, and for much longer time frames. Well, truth be told, I had a very, very restless sleep on this trip. I had a window seat, and therefore no legroom, and the bus was 99% full so couldn’t move to an aisle seat and stretch out. The air-con seemed to only work intermittently. I drifted in and out of travel sleep – the kind of sleep you get which is more of a semi-conscious doze, and I always seem to have very weird half-dreams, almost psychedelic sometimes.
When I did wake properly, it was the heat of the sun rising that did it. And glancing out of the window, I was almost glad I had a window seat, coz watching the sun show its first peek over the horizon, a deep orange glowing ball, and slowly rise up over the barren red earth desert that we were driving thru was just spectacular. This was the same sun that barely 12 hours ago I watched dip into the Pacific Ocean, and now I’m watching it rise out of the desert sands.
Arriving in Phoenix, somewhat behind schedule, I was incredibly strung out, tired, sweaty, and smelly, badly in need of a shower, coffee, and food. It was barely 7am and it was already roasting hot – I’m sure it was already close to 30 degrees (80-ish F). I needed some time to gather my thoughts. I was due to meet and stay with Bryan and Christine, a couple who I met in Dingle, Ireland while they were on honeymoon and I was on my last Irish hurrah. This was December 2004. We had hung out for a coupla days, and then I invited them to my leaving do, at which they duly showed up. We’ve been in semi-regular email touch ever since. But today, Bryan was working until around 2pm, and couldn’t meet or pick me up 'til then. And they lived in Anthem, a suburb a good 35miles north of the City. I needed to figure out what to do for the next 7 hours.
I spent about an hour of that wandering aimlessly around the bus station. There were no shower-hire facilities, the luggage storage compartments were out of order, and the information centre wasn’t yet opened. At least I could get coffee. And while changing into shorts and Tee, fumbling absent-mindedly thru my rucksack, I found a ½ empty pack of cigarettes – must have been from the Aussie Rules night…I vaguely remember getting hammered-drunk and buying a pack, which I do from time to time. I only smoke when I’m very drunk, or, as was the case now, when I’m really strung-out.
So, with coffee and two cigarettes in my system, I feel almost human again, and am finally able to string two thoughts together. A quick read thru the Lonely Planet reveals the not-so-startling fact, that there ain’t a whole lot to do in the downtown Phoenix area. There are a couple of decent museums, but that’s about it. Anything else worth seeing needs a car to drive there, this being one of America’s most sprawling metropolises.
After negotiating to leave my rucksack in the freight office of the bus station (no way was I gonna lug it around the city on foot in 30+ degree heat for 7 hours), I found a local bus that would take me into town.
It’s 9am by this stage. Amazingly to me, for a city almost 3million people, the Downtown core was dead, absolutely dead. I’m talking zero traffic. Maybe its coz it’s Sunday? I don’t know. But I honestly felt like I was walking around a ghost town, or a post-apocalyptic city that had just suffered a nuclear strike. The only signs of life I saw were the homeless bums in the park on Washington Street. It felt very weird. To be wandering amongst modern, steel and glass skyscraper corporate buildings, and to be able to cross 4-lane roads without a single car in sight??? Very strange.
I also now realised I needed to check my email – I didn’t have Bryan’s number written in my book. I only had it on email. Without being able to contact him, there was no way for me to confirm I’d arrived, or a meeting point. And there was nothing open, and even if there was, there wasn’t even anything that looked like it might have an Internet terminal.
Looking at my LP guidebook again, I noticed a HI hostel way out on the edge of Downtown. Only 10 blocks away. I may as well check it out, i've got nothing better to do right now, and it may have a connection, or at least be able to point me in the right direction. Now, as you prolly, know, I’m a fairly adventurous person, willing to take a few risks here and there, but as I’m getting into the neighbourhood where the hostel, I’m feeling a little sketchy. It feels like I’m wandering into 'the Hood'. Bryan was to tell me later that I wasn’t exactly in the safest part of town. What the hell a HI hostel was located there for, I don’t know. Anyways, I get there – and it has a bit of a shanty-shack feel to it, and no, there’s no Internet connection, and no, there ain’t any around here.
I need another coffee. The city seems to be waking up slightly now, a few more people on the road, but still no one on foot…No one walks here, they all drive. I find a café that’s open. Miracle. The chick, very friendly actually, at the café says, “yeah, we’ve got Internet connection, you got a laptop??” “Um...no”. That’s another thing I’ve noticed a lot in the States recently. There is a dearth of Internet café’s, but every Starbucks, Blenz and two-bit independent coffee shops have WiFi. That does me no good tho, or any other budget backpacker around. What backpacker do you know that carries a laptop in their rucksack???
The café chick did mention that if I jumped on a bus for 20minutes I could find a FedEx-Kinko’s, which had an expensive per-minute Net café. And it was right by one of the Museums I was contemplating checking out. Man, all this freakin’ effort for a phone number!!!! I was having a very difficult morning.
Phone number duly found, and contact made with Bryan, I spent about ¾ of an hour in the, apparently, world famous Heard museum, before I realised I now had to get back to the bus station, way out on the other side of Downtown, to meet him. Waiting for a bus on a Sunday morning in Phoenix certainly is a true test of one’s patience. This is one of the most car-centric cities in the most car-centric country in the world. ½ a day here, and I’ve learnt that Public Transport is woeful. I found PT excellent in San Francisco, and serviceable even in Los Angeles, San Diego’s good, but here in Phoenix?...Man, pitiful. I took to walking between stops, just so as I felt like I was actually getting somewhere, and after 40minutes or so I was finally able to get one. But that only took me part of the way, when I had to change and wait for another. The morning trip into town was just as bad, too.
It’s now 1pm. Once again, I walked between stops, keeping a keen eye out so I didn’t miss one flying past me between stops. Back on the right side of Downtown now for the bus station, I wander past an enormous Baseball stadium. Phoenix Vs San Diego. This part of the city is now buzzing, and the traffic has come to life, cops directing people every which way, and drinks and ice-cream vendors out in force. Thank God for icy-cold water!! I had walked about ¾ of the way back out to the bus station, when I finally saw my bus number come up. Sheesh!
I seem to be whingeing a bit here, I know. Not sure if that’s just how the city affected me, or if it was my state-of-mind after a pretty ordinary bus trip. Nevertheless, when Bryan met me, it was a sigh of relief. Good to see the boy again, and there was a lot to catch up on in almost a year’s absence. With a 35mile drive ahead, we had a bit of time.
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