I boarded the bus to Baltimore not really knowing what to expect. It turns out that (at least some) American buses are seriously comfortable and spacious. Leg room for days. I sat down, relaxed, and was about to put in my earphones when the girl next to me ended a phone call to the friend she was about to visit. We started talking and only stopped when some travel sickness drug she’d taken before the journey sent her to sleep for a little while. She wants to be some sort of artist or graphic designer, grows food on the roof of her Manhattan apartment block, and watches an insane amount of obscure foreign films. She also has an old Japanese camera called an Anny-35, which just happens to be how you spell her name. No, not with the number. Moron.
One of the most interesting parts of our conversation was about the motivations behind taking photos on holiday. She said that when she went to Paris she didn’t even take a photograph of the Eiffel Tower, because as she was about to she realised that there were hundreds of people doing the same thing, and that few if any were doing so to admire the architecture, but instead just to show that they had been there, which she thought was motivated by a wish to preserve a part of themselves after they were dead.
I’ve often thought it’s ironic that people can become so concerned with taking photos of where they are and what they’re doing that they end up failing to really experience the memory they’re trying to preserve. As an example, I wonder how many other people stood next to me at the Statue of Liberty noticed how the patina had run down the base to form patterns because they were too busy with their cameras.
Other, rather more light-hearted topics of conversation included American stereotypes of Brits. Apparently we have bad teeth, we like tea, and, oddly, beans.
The guy sat over the aisle from me sounded so much like Jon Favreau that I had to check whether or not it was him on more than one occasion.
Before I knew it I was in Baltimore and had to figure out how to get from the bus stop to the hostel. Before I set off, I said goodbye to Anny and she said she hopes to see me in New York one day. I’d say it’s fairly unlikely we’ll just bump into each other. The map said the hostel was a short walk down a straight road and then a right turn. Hard to get lost, you’re thinking. And you’re right, because I didn’t. But I did sweat quite a lot.
By the time I’d checked in and unpacked it was nearly five o’clock. Considering that I’d had breakfast when I got up at 8:00 before I left for the bus at 12:15 and nothing to eat since, I was absolutely starving. The girl at the desk told me that there was a pub just around the block with reasonably priced food so I headed straight there. It was an Irish bar, and with Guinness only $3.20 a pint it was hard to refuse. While I waited I read some of the Brewers’ Times which had some fairly interesting articles about American beers, including one on the first active brewery in Washington D.C. for around fifty years. As an added bonus, the food was excellent and I got to watch the first half of Napoli v Roma.
Stomach full, I went for a wander to explore and soon found myself down at the inner harbour. Turns out they gave me the wrong dates.
There was a street entertainment act consisting of a man and his daughter riding 6 foot tall unicycles and juggling knives and fire. She was only fourteen, it was the first time she’d done it in public, and she was quite clearly terrified. As I continued my exploration I came across Baltimore Street. It seems to me that if your city is called Baltimore, you should avoid having its eponymous street house a bunch of seedy sex shops, strip clubs, and god knows what else. But what do I know, I’m not a town councilor.
Getting hungry again I went to a nearby 7/11 for some ingredients, cooked some food and, the excitement of the past few days catching up with me, was in bed before midnight. When I got back to the hostel I saw this in the window of the fortune teller next door. Fantastic grammar.
The next day I took advantage of the free pancake breakfast. First I made a small one, but I was still hungry so I went back and cooked an absolutely huge one. Well fueled and ready for an education, I set off towards Fort McHenry, where, in 1812, the Americans repelled the British navy and the next morning Francis Scott Key penned the poem which would eventually be set to the tune of an English drinking song and become the American national anthem.
As the fort was not too far past the harbour I decided to walk there admiring the view and get the water taxi back. As I got a little further out from the inner harbour, the city became very industrial, with lots of derelict housing and disused land scattered about. I pressed on further and eventually came to the entrance to the fort. Inside the centre there’s a history lesson and video about the conflict and the birth of the Star-Spangled Banner, which culminates in the first verse being played as a blind is raised and the fort is revealed through the window behind. Many of the people in the room were singing along fairly vigorously and, as presumably the only Brit in the room, I kept my head down.
If I understood the ranger’s accent correctly, a flag has flown in that spot by presidential decree ever since.
I’ve never really ‘got’ patriotism, but after my visit to the fort and that experience I feel that I understand it more now. A symbol representing the unity of a country in the face of adversity is a powerful thing. I also saw my first REALLY fat American sat outside with a McDonald’s bag big enough to fit me in it.
After some more photos and a brief talk on army kit I decided it was time to return to downtown Baltimore to see what other charms it had to offer. As it turned out, the National Park Service allow people to be dropped there, but not to buy a ticket. Presumably this is to stop people from taking advantage of the free parking. Not having a car, I thought this was a bit unfair and grudgingly prepared to walk back. As luck would have it a bus pulled up just as I reached the gate and I was able to catch that back instead for the princely sum of $1.60. Much better than $10 for the Water Taxi, I’m sure you’ll agree.
After a short walk from the bus stop to the water I felt my stomach rumble and found a place to eat. I was greeted by a host with one of the kindest smiles I’ve ever seen, and all of the staff were incredibly friendly in a genuine way. I felt they’d actually earned a tip so I was fairly generous, and the waitress even came back to make a point of thanking me. The food wasn’t half bad either.
One of the main attractions on the Baltimore harbour is the aquarium. I’m told it’s one of the best in the USA. Then again, for $25 it had better be! I was just in time to see a presentation involving divers feeding rays and sharks in the big pool. It was interesting to see that the rays still had all of their barbs. It certainly seemed like a comprehensive aquarium, with a good range of creatures and well presented exhibits.
I didn’t pay the extra to see the dolphin show, but I imagine the underwater observation was better than the arena in many respects as it allowed me to see the power and grace of these creatures as they leapt from the water and pirouetted just under the surface when they landed.
After the aquarium I visited Edgar Allen Poe’s grave, where I learned he married his first cousin, who died at the age of 24, and he was only 40 when he died.
On the way I saw this. I dread to think what would have happened if one or both of them had woken up.
From there is was a short walk to Baltimore’s Washington Monument before I went back to book more accommodation/transport. It was a good job I got in when I did, because not long after there was a torrential downpour with no warning at all.
I made some food and a lady I’d chatted to briefly insisted I went to sit with her and another girl rather than sit on my own to eat. She is very enthusiastic and outgoing and perhaps a little bit crazy in a perfectly harmless way. She’s planning on putting her energy towards helping young people and that can only be a good thing. I’m not convinced I’m ‘meant’ to help, though. I suppose we will see.
I’d only had a small snack to keep me going until the hostel’s $3 all-you-can-eat pasta & garlic bread. Very tasty. I was having trouble sorting out some of my desired transport and accommodation and getting a little stressed out when a guy in the room who hadn’t been very talkative up until then suddenly asked if anyone was going out. I said I’d come for a pint to take a break and we headed out.
It’s surprising how different Baltimore is in the dark, and even though we’d both spent a day walking around we still managed to get a little bit lost. Still, soon enough we’d made it to the harbour and ‘Power Plant Live’. We had to show ID to get into the area, which involved me pointing out where my date of birth was to a fairly confused bouncer. I also had to remove my bandana. Unfortunately every bar there was the same, and there was a live gig with bands we’d never heard of. The week before Reel Big Fish had played for free. Can’t win them all, I suppose.
After trying a couple of places which were dead and playing shit music we ended up back in the pub I’d eaten at the day before, where we met a very drunk girl from Ohio who had been abandoned by her friends. We left her at the bar and sat at a table to chat. Andrew is from near San Francisco and is taking a trip during his college holiday. He’s been to Chicago, which seems to be highly recommended by everyone, and said he planned to go to Philadelphia next. I said he might have a problem as it was all booked up when I looked and as it turns out I was right, so he’s off to New York earlier than planned instead, before heading north to see a friend. By this point we were both fairly tired (me in particular) so we went back to the hostel to get some sleep.
The next morning I had more free pancakes and seemed to have a bit more luck with route planning, but it’s still not finalised at the time of writing. I realised it was time to check out and packed in a hurry before cooking the last of my food to eat and putting some of the now free pasta from last night in tupperware containers. I’d paid for all I could eat, after all!
It was then time to walk back to the station to catch the train to Washington D.C. The sun came out a little while before I left, so it looks like my weather prediction might be right, as they’re forecast thunderstorms in D.C. for the next few days. At least there are lots of free museums. It does mean I might have to miss out on the early morning photo opportunities though.
paulrfarrington 
In defence of the wonderous grammar…
In Spanish, they always use a double negative (as in your example), so, maybe the fortune teller was hispanic.
Fair enough, but that would still make it a terrible translation!