Episode VI-The Campbell Returns

Episode VI-The Campbell Returns

I’m not really sure were to. Central park? Uhhhh, Times Square? Oh! That awesome rooftop bar. That place. These Star Wars references are getting more and more forced. And will continue to do so.

So, what’s been going on since the end of my last post? Well, I had a very quiet weekend, a lot of time spent around the hostel, a lot of time spent reading, writing and just being awesome.  I have unfortunately come down with a bit of a cold, which has slowed me down quite a bit, but I’ve soldiered on.

There’s been lots of time just spent walking about, exploring Soho, Nolita, NoHo, Tribeca, East Village and Greenwich Village. Man they are cool neighbourhoods. Robert De Niro’s name is all over Tribeca, it’s pretty great. Seriously, the man owns half of the place. There is a theatre, real estate agents, a De Niro building. If he hadn’t played a mobster several hundred times over, I’d be suggesting he try that

I’ve had a bit of a cold for some of the time I was here, but I’m getting over it fast. Just punched the cold in the face with a ton of medication so I could do stuff, which is why I probably feel better now. Probably wasn’t the best idea to combine several, but hey it worked. I’m still here.

I’ve been exploring stores and buying very little. On Monday, Nick, Henrick, Lino, Jack and I went and had a picnic in Central Park, which involved copious amounts of junk food and lots of Frisbee. Then we wandered through the park for a while, before Nick left us to go up Rockefeller tower. The four of us resolved to find a bar, which was actually harder than it strictly should of been. We settled on a sports bar by our favourite diner, had a few beers, then Henrik and I went and joined Nick at a rooftop bar where we had come on our first New York weekend. We sat in the shadow of the Empire State building and discussed our business of being awesome with a couple of jetsettting Aussies.

The next week, which I will now gloss through because I am clearly writing this some time after I have left the States, was comprised of me doing the things I hadn’t done so far in New York. Well, some of them. I visited the Statue of Liberty, which was at once majestic and had the impact I expected, while somehow seeming smaller than I thought it would be. It is not the size of the Empire State Building after all. Damn French should learn how to build a better statue, goddamit.

Speaking of that, I didn’t climb it. The building is for tourists. And I was decidedly not one, after spending the reminder of my time in New York bagging out tourists, with their camera’s and their I [heart] New York shirts. Disgusting. Instead, I went up that bastion of local secrets, Rockefeller Tower with Jack. (note, this paragraph has been entirely sarcastic. This is sometimes difficult to display in a blogeriffic setting.) The views from the tower were truly spectacular and other assorted superlatives. It was a bit foggy, so we couldn’t see as far as we liked, but there was still incredible views of New York City. It was great going up there at the end of my trip like that, because I knew so  many of the places I was seeing. I could point to different things and  know exactly what they were, and what I had done there. Things like yelled at traffic under the shadow of that weird glass building, or had a futile attempt at jogging around the Jackie O’ Reservoir in Central Park. Got horrendously drunk over there in the East Village, fought cloned Thomas Jefferson’s from the Dark or Evil dimension in front of horrified tourists at Columbus Circle on 66^th. Good times. Great classic hits.

I could bore you with stories of my flights home, but they aren’t particularly interesting. Apart from me totally wussing out and not talking to the mythical hot girl on a plane that I sat next to New York to Los Angeles, (she had wrist tattoos and a guitar, goddammit), or losing my American accent as soon as I stepped into Sydney, there wasn’t all that much interesting.

Suffice to say, it is damn good to be home. Our money is colourful, I’m with my wonderful family and friends, and all voice-overs on the Ads are aussie.

It was a hell of a trip and I will never forget it.

The Empire State’s, ummm, back.

Episode V-The Empire States, ummm, back.

Oh, you know how I said I was finally going to Statue of Liberty in my last post? Yeah, that still hasn’t happened. To cut a long story short, I was all prepped to head out with a tour group from the hostel, when I found out that the guy that was taking the group was in fact having surgery. Because that was a thing that just crops up. Not really feeling like I wanted to go by myself, especially with other opportunities to, I went and hung out in the park for a little while. It really is very peaceful there, especially if you find a place that is a bit out of the way and not full of those damn tourists.

I then headed up to see Columbia University, New York City’s top notch university, which was very impressive. I explored the library, which is this huge rambling space in what looks like the tomb of a roman emperor.  Except, like, full of books instead of the animated skeletons of Legionnaires and angry ghosts. And more light. Soo, not really like one at all. Except sort, of one the outside. Which I suppose was my point in the first place. Well, that was unnecessary piece of exposition, huh? If it wasn’t for unnecessary exposition, then we wouldn’t be here, now would we?

Speaking of which (tombs, not roman emperors), I also visited the recently restored tomb of General Ulysses S. Grant, Union Civil War Hero and later President of the US. Very powerful site, even if I wasn’t allowed inside (I had just burnt a flag on the steps, while chanting ‘Death to America’. They tend not to look kindly on that. I mean, it was closed.)

Then I headed out on another pub crawl, albeit briefly, after I decided I wasn’t really at all in the mood. Still, it was nice to hang out the people from the hostel, who I was starting to get to know. Most people are utterly fascinated by the fact that I have been here since January. Makes me special.

The next day I got my things back from Lino, who was wonderful enough to bring my two big bags into the city. We met at Grand Central then lugged my things back to hostel, thankfully with a minimum of fuss. Then we headed down to the Natural History Museum and met with Becc, Nick and Henrick. We bought tickets to the Planetarium show which was hilariously filled with school kids. I also revealed how much of Sci-Fi nerd I was by bringing up various theories of space travel and how it was basically impossible unless we developed a form of time travel which removed a craft from normal space. Yes, just like Star Trek. Shhhh.

Anyway, the Planetarium show was amazing, if somewhat poorly narrated by Whoopi Goldberg. Where’s Morgan Freeman when you need him. We all giggled at the word Uranus, despite the room full of schoolchildren remaining quiet. And they say American youth is in a state of arrested development. Hey, that’s the name of a show.

Afterwards, we split up and explored the Museum. I think we maybe saw, hmmm, a third of it. In three hours. And we weren’t exactly lingering in all the exhibits. Still, saw the dinosaurs, the eminently breath-taking under the sea exhibit with its live size Blue Whale and only-exist-to-haunt-our-nightmares deep sea creatures exhibit. Seriously, how do those things even close their mouths with teeth that size? Do their teeth fold? Oh god, tell me that isn’t a thing.

WHY DO YOU EXIST?

After we left the museum, we headed over to our fast becoming regular haunt, the Westaway Diner for some din-dins. Awesomely enough, a couple of tables over were the same pair of cops that had been there the last time we were. We are inhabiting our New York diner so much we are recognising other customers. I feel so special!

Then after dinner Becc and Nick headed back to have a few drinks with people from their hostel, while Nick, Jack, Lino and I went and saw Robin Hood, which was better than I had expected it to be. Making it a three star film.

And that’s basically all the interesting stuff that happened to me over that time period. Cept for some other stuff.

Luv ya’s all!

Episode IV-A New York

Episode IV-A New York

I made my triumphant return to New York at time which was decidedly unhealthy considering the little I had slept on the flight. I was running considerably short of cashy money too, because I had been forced to take a taxi to Sacramento airport, due to reduced bus service for Memorial Day. That hurt. But still, it was damn good to be back in NYC, a city where I knew the subway system and how not to talk to people.

And boy howdy, was it warm in NYC-I wasn’t quite prepared for it. After how relatively cool California had been, heading up north and finding it hotter was a bit of shock to the system. I found my Hostel and dumped my bags-it was still before check-out time by the time I arrived.

I had been in communication with Nicole, Henrick and Nick, some of the Stony Brook exchange kids and we planned to meet before Nicole headed off to Connecticut for the weekend. With still plenty of time to kill, I had a pleasant walk through Central Park, which never ceases to amaze me with its mere existence in this sort of city. Of course, I forgot that I don’t exactly go in a straight line through Central Park so I wound up being late and then in the wrong place. So much for knowing the city, huh?

After another visit to a rather awesome diner, Henrick and I crossed Manhattan and tracked down Nick and Nicole in Grand Central Station, which made me regret leaving my camera behind. The place is a sight! I’ll have to go back another time, that’s for sure. If for nothing more than to visit the Campbell Apartments there. We hung out together there for a while, catching up on old times, of like, ten days ago. It sure felt like longer. After we farewelled Nicole, we had a sort of plan to go the Natural History Museum, but time got away from us a bit, and as I had planned on going to a bar crawl that night and I was too exhausted to not have a nap beforehand. So I said farewell to the guys and headed on back.

So I went out on the bar crawl, mostly to meet some people from the Hostel. I didn’t have enough money for more than a couple of beers, which was fine by me. At least half of the group were Australian, of course, and most of those from Melbourne. Bloody Aussies.

Had a good time, visited some interesting bars, including New York’s Ding Dong Lounge-owned by the same people who own Melbourne’s! Meet heaps of cool folks, including a guy who spent at least forty-five minutes explaining the geography and racial structure of Vancouver to me. Educational…

Unfortunately, as I discovered when I woke up in the morning, I had lost my phone. I was meant to be going to Coney Island with Nick and Henrick, but I spent the morning wandering around looking for it. I visited the bar, a cafe by day and asked there, but last-night’s bartender had a hold of all of that sort of thing and I was told to come by around 6.

You Lost Your Phone? Facepalm!

Frustated, I headed back to Hostel and sent some emails and tried to organise some things via Facebook. Then I explored the neighbourhood a little, then headed down to Central Park, armed with my notebook and ipod and did some writing by the lake. I have unfortunately come up with an awesome new writing project, which is more artistic and my last few (less Zombies, dinosaurs and time travel) so I made some dents in that. All will be revealed when I can be bothered, or when I almost certainly lose interest. But I digest. About my other projects.

On my way back, I dropped by the bar, to discover that they did in fact have my phone! It had turned up on one of the couches. After rattling off the first five or so names in the address book, they handed it back to me and I had dinner with some folks I had meet the night before, now in a considerably better mood.

Tomorrow, Statue of Liberty!

From the Streets of Sacramento

From the Streets of Sacramento.

By the way, the title of this post comes from a song by the band Cake, who are natives of Sacramento. You may know them by the song ‘Short Skirt, Long Jacket’. You may also not know them at all, by which case you are missing out and you should go and buy a Cake album right now.  Might I recommend Fashion Nugget?

Anyway, Sacramento, Capitol of California. Bet you didn’t know that, huh? I am a politics nerd, remember. Despite my repeated attempts to find the Governator here, I really couldn’t, although a mysterious muscled figure did save me and my ragtag band of misfits when we were fighting zombies. So maybe that was him. More on the Zombie outbreak of Sacramento in a moment.

I arrived at the hostel, and struggled to spot it at first, until I realised that the gorgeous old country mansion directly in front of me was the Hostel, easily the coolest building I have ever stayed in. After San Francisco, I was kind of drained and I knew I had a hell of a crazy week coming up when I got back in New York. So I spent a lot of time sitting in parks, in coffee shops, or just around the hostel, reading my books, writing my novel or just watching the mid-late 90’s sci-fi show Sliders, (which is pretty darn awesome by the way).

I did do some interesting things though!  I visited a gold rush museum (Sac’s a gold rush town), which put me in mind of Sovereign Hill, then spent a little bit of time in Old Sacramento, which is the historical part of town, which even more put me in mind of Sovereign Hill. Went to a couple of the Jazz Jubilee events that have been running about town (the free ones), caught up with my local friend Alicia for a while. Visited the Capitol Corridor, toured the Capitol building, had a few beers with some guys who had cycled up from San Francisco. Hung out in Old Sacramento for most of Memorial Day, while they had a festival and visited the free California War museum.  There I found out that the museum had a connection with Australian War Museums in that we sent many of our military history books to their fast growing library.

So, while I did a few things about the place, I spent much of my time simply doing nothing, a combination of recovery, resting up and the fact that I have had a minor cold while I was here.

It was nice. But hell, I am looking forward to going back to New York.

Leaving Los Angeles And Going to Prison

Leaving Los Angeles and Going to Prison

I had booked the bus to San Francisco, which wonderfully left right from the Hostel. I was still kinda bummed out about not being able to see much of the city, but hey! Being on the bus made up for some of that, because I got to see the Hollywood sign, drove down Sunset Blvd, saw some stars (in the pavement, LOL jks, vomit) and then past Universal Studios and out of the city on our way. I took some photos and I will post them up, along with the others as soon as I get a decent Internet connection. This hostel’s is a giant hunk of rat patootie.

I arrived in San Fran that night, got my room and did some writing. San Francisco is very noisy and there are tonnes of homeless people, but it seems like a cool city. It’s very cold here. In fact the three days I have been in California have all been far colder than when I left New York. THE WORLD IS TOPSY TURVY!

Well, I had already cleverly booked tickets to visit that most famous of prisons, Alcatraz, so I headed down to the docks, the mist and the rain giving the boat ride over a distinctly prison movie feel. Very atmospheric! I wandered around Alcatraz on the self guided tour, taking photos and generally having a cool experience.

 Got me perhaps my favourite souvenir so far, an Alcatraz harmonica. The whole place was presented in an odd fashion, switching from horror stories about the harsh conditions, to ‘it really wasn’t so bad’. Coming off the boat, I met a lovely older couple from Perth, who invited me to their table for lunch. Graham and Louise were in the US for their nephews wedding and had only arrived a few days before. I was able to tell them about being an Aussie in America and then they bought me lunch! Super nice people.

I explored San Fran a bit more, walking along Fishermans Wharf, catching the trolley for a while, finding a lovely reading/bookstore. I headed up and over Nob Hill, to spot a couple of protests from both sides of politics. I later found out this was because President Obama was in town. I think he was staying at the Four Seasons, because I spotted a bunch of guys in suits with earpieces around there.

The next day I headed over to the Golden Gate Park and enjoyed the sunshine there, before I headed over to the Japanese Tea Garden. The Japanese Tea Garden was actually founded by an Australian called Richard Marsh, in 1909, who would later have the area above Berkley named The Richmond, after Richmond in Melbourne! It’s a small world! It was very relaxing. I considered going into the museums there, but decided on a city tour instead, where I got a look at the sight of San Francisco. I crossed the Golden Gate Bridge, saw the Capitol Building (more protests), Haight District, Hippy Hill, the Painted Ladies and a whole bunch of San Francisco mentalness.

That night, my friend Emma came down from San Rafael and we had a killer time drinking wine and hanging out in her hotel room. The next morning we nursed our hangovers, before heading our separate ways, me to Sacramento and her back home.

Next Post-Quiet Scaramento

LA is Somewhat of a Bust.

Part 4-LA is Somewhat of a Bust

After rising at what my New York time brain told me was just past 4am, but was 5am by Memphis time, I found my cab and headed to the airport, to catch my 7:30 flight. Everything there went off without a hitch, but we got stuck on the tarmac at Phoenix, so our 10 minutes early arrival turned into a 20minutes late out the gate. They said it was due to construction work, but I knew the truth-Godzilla related activity. Damn Godzilla. Anyway, that left me no time to get food  and the fact that I was another two hours back meant that I was experiencing daylight jetlag. I jumped on the flight to Burbank, which was also ages getting out of the terminal and eventually arrived at Burbank. Again we were delayed on the tarmac due to high winds. Sure enough, my run of bad luck continued when I got out to get my shuttle, only to find that I wasn’t only the customer list. The guy running the shuttle dispatch was very helpful though and believed me when I told him I had booked one. He called head office and after a little while, they found my booking and I was on my way to the hostel.  By the time I had reached the hostel and checked in, it was almost four o’clock. I had booked a LA sightseeing tour at one thirty-which was more than an hour after I was supposed to arrive, but obviously that wasn’t going to happen. Thankfully, the tour people understood my situation and didn’t charge me. They did say that if I could gather up ten people for the evening tour by four-which was about 15 minutes away, then they would be able to run it. I rushed around the hostel, but after the first six people I approached all declined I gave up and set about exploring Santa Monica.

A gorgeous upscale resort town, Santa Monica would have been a lot more fun if it hadn’t been swept by howling winds. Still I went for a nice walk along the beach, yelled out to Australia across the Pacific ocean, and avoided the many, many homeless people.  I also made the rather awesome discovery of a number of eucalypt trees along the shoreline! I did clap my hands in delight like a small child and crumble the leaves up for that familiar smell, which probably made me look like one of the crazy homeless people, only with mildly better dress sense. I walked up to a little music festival that was going on a few streets away and hung out there for a while, then I grabbed some food and bought a cool hat before I headed back to the hostel. Also, confirming suspicions of a dinosaur conspiracy, there was metal dinosaur shaped fountains just a few streets away. They’re everywhere, I tell you! (no, I mean it, there really were dinosaur fountains.)

One of the people who I had asked to go on the evening tour had told me about a Lost party they were having for the finale that night, so I settled in with about twenty others and watched the Lost recap and the finale itself. We debated and threw theories and terrible jokes back and forth and were all fairly satisfied with the ending.

Still pretty disappointed with the day, I headed to bed.

Graceland, Baby

Part 3-Graceland, baby!

So it was wake up in the morning and without my Australian friend, to guide me, it was up to me to find my own way around. Couldn’t be so hard, I thought. I’m a semi-man, with low self confidence and a shocking lack of real world experience. Oh god, it so should not have turned out as well as it did.

In a shocking display of guile, I took the free hotel shuttle back to the airport and then called a cab to take to Graceland, home of Elvis Presley, saving me at least ten bucks. AMAZING FLAVOURS!  Public Transport in Memphis is fairly lacklustre-especially without a train system. But I got to Graceland, stowed away my baggage and bought me a tour of everything, for only thirty bucks. While I waited for my tour to start I hit the gift stores.

Elvis Hot Sauce?

I could have spent, well, everything, there. Just walking through them was a hell of a thing. Do you want an Elvis hip flask? They have that. Elvis playing cards? They have that. Elvis pajama’s? They have that. Elvis sunglasses? They have that. Elvis Christmas decorations? THEY HAVE THAT! Elvis Pez dispenser? THEY HAVE THAT! Elvis Pez dispenser too small? Buy a larger one! Don’t have a $12,000 Elvis guitar? Buy away!

Elvis Figures Anyone?

The half dozen (at least) gift shops were a sight to be seen by themselves, but then I headed over to Graceland, itself, to Elvis’s Mansion. Damn this is cool house. One of the best parts about it, is how well it’s been respected-no-one is allowed upstairs, everything is behind ropes, no touching. It’s very, very well maintained. The whole place is crazy, but at the same time it feels very much like it has been lived in, loved, enjoyed. Elvis bought the place when he was 22, and never really lived anywhere else. Except for, y’know, his planes…

Gawdawful shirt? $30!

There was theme rooms, a pool room, a racquet ball lodge, a TV room with three screens and a mirrored ceiling, an indoor waterfall, a makeshift shooting range, horses. Just, y’know, everything you need for being Elvis. Now, of course, the whole place functions as a museum with dozens of exhibits devoted to various parts of Elvis’s career and a nifty little audio-tour to let you go at your own pace. Then, finally, Elvis’s grave and that of his parents and grandmother, covered, of course, in tributes from around the world.

Graceland. See how home-ish it is!

After that, I headed back to the rest of Graceland and explored Elvis’s car museum which was just about awesome enough to make even me, someone not particularly into cars, very, very excited. The man had some serious taste when it came to vehicles.

Then I headed over and checked out his planes. Yes, I said plane-s, plural. He had two, one smaller one, which he used for short trips, or flying around family members or friends and his larger jet, The Lisa Marie, which he used on tour. This thing was, basically (and by Elvis’s intention) a mini-Graceland, decked out in every sort of luxury you can imagine in a plane. Gold flecked basins. The man had gold flecked basins in a jet. I now have a new life goal and it involves owning a plane with a net worth of more than most third world nations.

After Graceland, I jumped on the free shuttle bus into town and set about heading to my hostel for the night, a place called Pilgrim House. After a brief visit to the Rock And Soul Museum, which would have cost me to explore further, I headed up along the famous Beale St, in which a mini-festival was going on. I have a feeling that Beale St was almost always a festival. The city was, for the most part, very quiet. This was almost certainly on account of the sweltering heat, which had even the locals sheltering indoors. It was 97, with rather intense humidity factor as well. Not all that much fun to be lugging my bag around in. I rode the Memphis trolley, which is a limited light rail system that runs through the city centre. One of the trolley’s is actually a vintage Melbourne tram! Made me feel at home. When I came to end of the line, I had a decent way to walk to the hostel, which would have been a lovely walk had it not been so god-damned hot and had I not been carrying bags. However, I made it eventually, all without passing out from heatstroke. So that was a plus.

Pilgrim House was lovely, a spacious, clean and friendly hostel in the back of a church. Not that you could tell, because no-one even mentioned God while I was there. I wished I could have stayed there longer, especially as it was only $15 per night! Booked a cab to take me to the airport in the morning, talked to folks again and fell asleep.

Band: The Fiery Furnaces

Comic: Dinosaur Comics

Taking Atlanta By Storm

Part 2-Taking Atlanta by storm

I gathered my things from NY Loft and went out into the street, trying to ignore the caws from the terrordactlys circling overhead. Yes that’s right TERRORdactly’s. Because they are so very, very scary. Thankfully, I had been given a crossbow, so after I had shot one or two of them, their leathery bodies plummeting to earth like so much horrific bird droppings, the others got the message and left. I had survived dinosaur attack once again, if only with a steady hand and a steely gaze.

I headed over to LaGuardia airport, which involved several subway journeys and a bus tour of north Queens. Eventually though, we arrived and I treated myself to a slice of pizza. Wow, food. Food is great. Grabbed my boarding pass, went through that fantastically dehumanising, ‘take off your shoes and wait in line’ ritual, had my hair gel chucked, after I had completely forgotten about it.

Also, they did this cool swab on my hand bandage to check for, I dunno, explosive or drug residue. It was kinda CSI, except without all the moodlighting and fast cuts. Or, y’know, far-too-attractive scientists. Have you seen Miami? With the exception of Caruso and the bald guy they all could be underwear models, they are so good looking. I but I digest. About CSI Miaimi-YEAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Ahem. Sorry.

Anyway, while waiting patiently for my flight. And I mean, patiently, cos I managed to find a powerpoint and internet, so I didn’t mind waiting so much. At least for the first two hours. Then after they announced that Atlanta, my changeover destination was surrounded by storms, with no flights going in or out. So the flight before mine was cancelled and all others pushed back two hours more. So, with no-one going out, and a slow, but steady stream of people flowing in, the departure lounges got, very, very crowded. And hot. And sweaty. I entertained myself thinking about how doomed we would be if the Zombies attacked, and I how I would lead a ragtag band of comically mismatched survivors to steal a plane and fly to a tropical island where we would live like Zombie slaying kings. I thought about this for longer than was strictly healthy.

I lined up in an ultimately doomed attempt to get free food, but after an hour and a half of that my flight had arrived, with me about four spaces from the front of the line. Curses! Foiled again!

Anyway, boarded the flight, snapped some shots of New York in the daylight, because I’d flown in at night, and settled in. Had dinner in Atlanta with a lovely Indian girl I met on my flight, then jumped on the flight to Memphis. Spent most of the flight listening to the rather excellent Alt Nation radio station and airdrumming to Modest Mouse. Arrived, called my hotel for the shuttle and called home before collapsing, ready to face Memphis and all it had to offer.

Well, maybe just some of it. All of it might be a bit much.

Music-Gorillaz, Plastic Beach

Comic-Savage Chickens

Part 1: The Road Takes a Pre-Emptive Strike

Part 1-The Road takes a Pre-emptive Strike (Wednesday 19th/Thursday 20th-May)

So it’s farewell to Stony Brook and the beginning of a new chapter, a new set of experiences. Of poor decisions and frankly disgusting personal hygiene. A journey of trains, planes and automobiles. And bus’s. Do they count as automobiles? I’ll have to check. And maybe, just maybe, I’ll learn a little something. And hopefully, just hopefully, I’ll get to ride a veliceraptor allow the way, and it’ll be mad sweet.

Mad sweet cowboy, riding a mad sweet veliceraptor.

One can only hope.

First stop is Brooklyn and the New York Loft Hostel, for a few days to get my bearings, get slightly used to being all on my lonesome, and do a bit of exploring in a city I kinda, sorta, a bit know. It’s a step in the right direction, reaching out to plains beyond the realm of normal, a leap into the unknown and all that is both good and bad in the world.

One of the bad things, is that I had seemed to go rather broke and I had to surrender my passport to the desk of the NY Loft Hostel, on the condition that I would get it back when i paid in between then and checkout.

After a short period of stress, I managed to contact back home and get the funds I needed to get this party started. So to speak. There was hardly any cocaine, so it wasn’t really a party. Kidding! I swear. But thanks very, very, very much Mum and Dad, I love you and remember I have told my friends about this blog also, and I owe you, like, so many cups of tea my hands will be permanently stained with Tea Leaves like an old gypsy mystic.

A long morning booking the rest of my journey, in which I promptly spent most of my money again followed during which I resolved to visit the Brooklyn Bridge Park and cross the Bridge itself into Manhattan.

A few words about the NY Loft Hostel for anyone planning on staying there. Really cool place, actually a reclaimed warehouse or factory. The dorms themselves were huge, with 16 beds or more. Great little kitchen and courtyard area, where people hung and talked. I wasn’t really in the mood, the reason why you will find out in a moment. Great big TV, computers (which you had to pay for unfortunately) and A PRINTER! More places need printers. Everything laid out very swish and modern. The neighbourhood, is, well, interesting. You know how I said the hostel was in a reclaimed factory or warehouse? Well, heaps of the buildings around are still functioning as factories or warehouses.  This makes things pretty darn noisy at times, but, combined with the hipster-ish folk of East Williamsburg (which the clerk assured people was quite safe ‘at any time, really’. As safe as any place, I suppose.) the whole place has this industrial punk DIY feel. A bunch or other places were also former warehouses, like the Gym across the road, or the cafe/art gallery down the street, so it feels as though the city is moving into Brooklyn a little. Quite cool.

The courtyard at NY Loft. THEY DID NOT HAVE A SPA! THIS IS NOT FAIR!

Anywho, badtimes. On my way down to Brooklyn Bridge, in what was a busy, middle of the day street, in a usually safe area, I got, well, mugged! Yeah. Two teenagers came up behind me and sucker punched me and ran. I lost skin from my hand saving my face from the pavement and had a few other bruises, but apart from that I’m completely fine. By the looks of things they were after my Ipod, but the idiots only ended up with my headphones and a good chunk of my pride and self-confidence. I would have felt a lot worse, but a whole bunch of people stopped to help me out, called the cops for me, and even pointed out the security cameras for them. The EMT’s patched up my hand and I made my police report and kept on trucking. I’M FINE!!! Don’t freak out. It was just bad luck. I was not the only skinny, bespectacled white kid listening to music on the street, and I was not the only person walking by myself, it was just a couple of dumb kids blowing off steam.

I hung out in the park, grabbed some lunch, then wandered across the bridge for some rather excellent views of NYC, including Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty and learnt all about the marvel of 19^th Century engineering that is the Brooklyn Bridge. Really a hell of a thing. They had to invent all these new machines to build it. New ways of twisting wire, new ways of protecting wire from the weather. Quite brilliant. And score one for female empowerment! The bridge was finished by the daughter-in-law of the original Chief Engineer.  In 1895! Hell yeah.

Anyway, I still felt a bit unconfident from what had happened earlier, so I headed back to the hostel, got thing ready for the next day, watched some TV and went to beddy-byes. I mean sleep! Yeah. Manly, manly sleep.

P.S I’m fine, don’t freak out, family. Also, I might have assumed my crime-fighting alter-ego, the Grey Ghost and totally went all crazy Batman on the city’s seedy underbelly later. Just sayin, is all.

Me, 3:30 AM. Going All Crazy Batman.

Music I am listening to: Architecture in Helsinki

Comic I am Loving: Questionable Content (Rated MA)

Luv ya’ll!

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