Philadelphia - February 2005
Saturday 26th February
So, I'm back in the Philadelphia area for a month. It's February. It's cold. It has snowed. Up in Boston it's about to get quite bad. I hope it clears up by the time I get there in April! Where I am, it's OK at the moment.
This will be my fourth trip to the New World. The first two times on tour with a punk band; this and my last one, on work-related matters. No matter what the reason for my visit, I will still do some exploring and see something of my environs; I can’t see any point in going somewhere and not doing some exploring.
This will be my longest sojourn in the colonies to date and I shall miss my girls terribly, but I also wanted to come to America again. At the age of 40, I discovered that I was experiencing belated wanderlust. Now, travelling through my work, the more I go away, the more I want to. Not because I want to be parted from my family, but because I just enjoy travelling.
The more I come to The States, the more I love the place. I have spent so much time watching US TV programs, listening to the music, following their sports, and reading about the place that it doesn’t feel like ‘abroad’. Then again, when you are there, it is so different to the UK and what I am used to, in so many ways, that I could write a thousand words on the subject and still not even scrape the surface. Rest easy, I’m not going to though. Well, actually, I will probably write much more than a thousand words…
So, I'm back in the Philadelphia area for a month. It's February. It's cold. It has snowed. Up in Boston it's about to get quite bad. I hope it clears up by the time I get there in April! Where I am, it's OK at the moment.
This will be my fourth trip to the New World. The first two times on tour with a punk band; this and my last one, on work-related matters. No matter what the reason for my visit, I will still do some exploring and see something of my environs; I can’t see any point in going somewhere and not doing some exploring.
This will be my longest sojourn in the colonies to date and I shall miss my girls terribly, but I also wanted to come to America again. At the age of 40, I discovered that I was experiencing belated wanderlust. Now, travelling through my work, the more I go away, the more I want to. Not because I want to be parted from my family, but because I just enjoy travelling.
The more I come to The States, the more I love the place. I have spent so much time watching US TV programs, listening to the music, following their sports, and reading about the place that it doesn’t feel like ‘abroad’. Then again, when you are there, it is so different to the UK and what I am used to, in so many ways, that I could write a thousand words on the subject and still not even scrape the surface. Rest easy, I’m not going to though. Well, actually, I will probably write much more than a thousand words…
Outbound
13:00 flight from Manchester to Philadelphia: pretty straightforward stuff. You know, it’s weird, I still get a daft smile on my face right at the moment when the pilot drops the clog and gives it full throttle on take-off. That sudden rush of power as you begin to thunder down the runway is just so exciting. Maybe it’s a man thing. More power! Argh, argh, argh.
I’ve flown into Newark Liberty twice on Continental with no complaints (other than being searched for fruits and vegetables). This was my second US Airways flight into the City of Brotherly Love and my handset for the on-demand video wasn’t working. I was not best pleased. The prospect of seven-plus movieless hours of transatlantic flight didn’t fill me with much joy, I’ll tell you what. The flight attendant was not a lot of help and offered me nothing in terms of solace. In fact, it was a case of, “No, it doesn’t work. Sorry.” And then he pissed off! I wouldn’t have minded so much, but that wasn’t even the seat I’d been assigned! Seeing as how I was travelling alone, I’d done the decent thing and swapped with a chap so he could sit with his friends. He slept the entire flight, didn’t talk to his ‘friends’ and didn’t even watch the fully functional video in the seat that I had surrendered, like the Good Samaritan that I am. If I was the cynical type, I could surmise that he had broken his handset and made up the whole story about 21D and 21E being his chums. But, I’m not like that.
The guy in front hacked me off too. He had is seat reclined so far that he was sitting on my lap. Long-haul flights are exactly that: long. After the first 90 minutes boredom sets in. I tried to do a bit of writing on my laptop but I couldn’t even open the lid far enough to be able to see the screen. So, to pass the time, I listened to Megadeth on the Minidisc (at a particularly unsociable volume) read my José Latour novel and, pointlessly, kept trying the handset from time to time. On each occasion, finding it still, unsurprisingly, completely non-functional, I would smack it a couple of times on the armrest and then throw it down in disgust. I know it was a fruitless pastime, but it did make me feel slightly less resentful towards the US Airways cabin crew, who – all in all - have yet to do something to make me feel like flying with that airline in the future. As air clippies go, they seem to train them to be distant, at best, standoffish at worst. I did toy with the concept of beating the guy in front to death with the bloody thing, but I didn’t fancy passing the rest of the flight in a straight, white vest either.
Nevertheless, I occupied myself for the duration and we made good time, landing in Philly slightly ahead of schedule, around 15:40 local time. Immigration was slow, but painless, even with the new tougher sphincter scan procedure they have recently established.
I’ve flown into Newark Liberty twice on Continental with no complaints (other than being searched for fruits and vegetables). This was my second US Airways flight into the City of Brotherly Love and my handset for the on-demand video wasn’t working. I was not best pleased. The prospect of seven-plus movieless hours of transatlantic flight didn’t fill me with much joy, I’ll tell you what. The flight attendant was not a lot of help and offered me nothing in terms of solace. In fact, it was a case of, “No, it doesn’t work. Sorry.” And then he pissed off! I wouldn’t have minded so much, but that wasn’t even the seat I’d been assigned! Seeing as how I was travelling alone, I’d done the decent thing and swapped with a chap so he could sit with his friends. He slept the entire flight, didn’t talk to his ‘friends’ and didn’t even watch the fully functional video in the seat that I had surrendered, like the Good Samaritan that I am. If I was the cynical type, I could surmise that he had broken his handset and made up the whole story about 21D and 21E being his chums. But, I’m not like that.
The guy in front hacked me off too. He had is seat reclined so far that he was sitting on my lap. Long-haul flights are exactly that: long. After the first 90 minutes boredom sets in. I tried to do a bit of writing on my laptop but I couldn’t even open the lid far enough to be able to see the screen. So, to pass the time, I listened to Megadeth on the Minidisc (at a particularly unsociable volume) read my José Latour novel and, pointlessly, kept trying the handset from time to time. On each occasion, finding it still, unsurprisingly, completely non-functional, I would smack it a couple of times on the armrest and then throw it down in disgust. I know it was a fruitless pastime, but it did make me feel slightly less resentful towards the US Airways cabin crew, who – all in all - have yet to do something to make me feel like flying with that airline in the future. As air clippies go, they seem to train them to be distant, at best, standoffish at worst. I did toy with the concept of beating the guy in front to death with the bloody thing, but I didn’t fancy passing the rest of the flight in a straight, white vest either.
Nevertheless, I occupied myself for the duration and we made good time, landing in Philly slightly ahead of schedule, around 15:40 local time. Immigration was slow, but painless, even with the new tougher sphincter scan procedure they have recently established.
Arrival
For the first time, I would be taking a hire car and driving in the US. I had actually been a little concerned about this. This was very unusual for me. I have been driving for 25 years and never have I had a seconds’ concern about my ability to drive any form of motor vehicle. I shouldn’t have wasted my energy. The moment I sat in my gas guzzling Chevrolet Impala I felt completely at home. First order of the day was to unearth the CD wallet I deliberately packed near the top of my bag. I liberated Velvet Revolver’s Contraband CD, cranked up the wattage and put my foot down. The burbling 200HP 3.8 litre V6 engine in front gave me yet another goofy grin on my face as I pulled out onto the Interstate and headed for the hotel. My inbuilt satnav guided me straight to Malvern, near King of Prussia , where I'm staying, about thirty minutes' drive from Philadelphia, in spite of the fact that I had no idea where I was going. What can I say? It’s a gift.
I dropped off my luggage, had a shower, the obligatory coffee, phoned home to let everyone know I'd arrived safely, then went in search of food. I found Baxter's, a local bar in Great Valley, which would become a regular watering-hole for me over the next year or so. As I was in the US, my first meal had to be a burger, and what a burger: The All-American. Topped with cheese and bacon, this was a very tasty meal. Washed down with a couple of pints of Guinness, I was shattered. I crashed as soon as I crawled into my bed.
Click here for the next bit
I dropped off my luggage, had a shower, the obligatory coffee, phoned home to let everyone know I'd arrived safely, then went in search of food. I found Baxter's, a local bar in Great Valley, which would become a regular watering-hole for me over the next year or so. As I was in the US, my first meal had to be a burger, and what a burger: The All-American. Topped with cheese and bacon, this was a very tasty meal. Washed down with a couple of pints of Guinness, I was shattered. I crashed as soon as I crawled into my bed.
Click here for the next bit