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Trip Start Sep 14, 2011
1
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Trip End Aug 03, 2012


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Where I stayed
Sweet peas

Flag of United States  , North Carolina
Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Here are a couple of things I bet you didn’t know about
Washington DC.  The whole place is built
on a swamp and therefore up until about 90 years ago was a hot –bed of Malaria
(and corruption).  I, as a result for 24
hours in this place, have millions (no exaggeration) of bites in places I can’t
quiet scratch.   When you get a drink
they bring you insect repellent on the side, not the same as a biscotti.   Secondly, Squirrel’s really like swamps (or
more over the trees that grow in them) so the whole place is over-run with
mosquitos and massive black angry, mob rules-mentality squirrels.  Jumping all over the place – In fact I think
they choose targets to launch at…mainly me. 
 It was like a swamp pincer
attack.

Also, the White House is quite disappointingly small…such is
life.

Unlike most capital city’s Washington was only chosen to be
the first town because it was nearer to the south then NY for trade purposes
(little educational nugget there for you. You’re welcome).  Due to this lack of enthusiasm for the place
it isn’t really a complete city.  It has
a diverse population, it has all the infrastructure you’d need it just doesn’t
have the excitement and life behind it – all that is further up the coast –
where the fun is.  It seems dedicated on
a daily bases to just lay down the law. So it wasn’t my best choice of location
to try a bit of j-running.  Turns out the
police near Capitol Hill don’t have a sense of humour, or like the English or
women…or runners, or back chat.

DC was only a stopover before my mammoth bus trip into the Blue
Ridge Mountains and lordie what a bus ride – It began something like this….

DC bus station 12 midnight – hot, humid evening on a massive
off, crowded bus. Also Washington Red Skins had just lost to the Dallas Cowboys
and everyone was spoiling for a fight.  Hot tin roof anyone?

So the driver steps up…

“Well hello there people (pregnant pause)….I said hello
there people “. There was a muffled response from my fellow passengers. “ My
name is Ry-ann Rich – Hard – Son and I will be your coach op-poor-ate-tor.  I will aim to get us into Richmond VA safely
and I ask in return a few things “

Bus gospel according to Ry-ann goes like this…

 “ 1. Do not do to any
others things that you wouldn’t want done to yourself…Think about it ya’ll that
just ain’t friendly.  2. Don’t do to any
others things you wouldn’t want doing to your member of your family, you get me
...and 3.  Don’t do to a passenger
someting that you wouldn’t like to think happening to a friend…that all clear?
We are now a family we take care of each other. 
Something happen to you don’t like, shout out.  Don’t be shy.   Now then, I am here at the front you sit
there at the back behind me and we’re off.  Thank you for travelling the Greyhound.  Amen! “.  Triffic, I’m going to get molested.

 He then turns off the
light we are plummeted into complete darkness and I then realise the large
sweaty man I am sat next to mouth breaths like a pervert, continually is texting
a sex line,so images of massive women with even bigger tits keeps on popping up
on his phone and also is an ex member of the US navy and feels it is his right
to bore the shit out of me by showing me over and over again the same, expired,
US Naval ID cards.  You can only imagine
how excited he was when we drove past the Pentagon.  I mentally noted down his full name at this
point in case Crime Watch needed it.   I
played dead and shut my eyes to it all…for half an hour then I am then woken up
by the lady in front waking the driver up. 
He’s stoned.  The whole bus stinks
of weed – everyone except me and the highly strung, pig faced ‘wank bastard’ is
stone. This continues for 3 hours.  He
(sick boy next to me) continues to make noises like a guinea pig and complain
about the heat (I have 2 jumpers on because of the air conditioning – did I
mention they are FAT FUCKS over here). 
Ry-Ann continues to hit the rumble strips and I regret having curry for supper.  That’s only hours 1-3, 14more to go.

When we get to Richmond (no where’s ville) at 3am the whole
place is teeming with Marines.  Even worse,
1st year boot camp under graduates, wet behind the ears.  They were all at that stage of half man half
boy where some looked swamped in their green wool uniforms and hats while other
had sprouted in odd direction, where some body parts had had growth spurts
leaving other parts behind.  They all had
those ‘wipe off’ first stage moustaches and crew cuts and massive wide eyes
showing fear and youth.  I spoke to a few
and they had just turned 18.  It is
really terrible but I kept think of the expression ‘cannon fodder’.   All so young and It’s so messed up.  Every stop along the way through the south
had another teaming bus terminal with hordes of these poor young boys all being
taken down to Jacksonville Florida to have the living soul kicked, shouted and
manipulated out of them.   If my mind
frame at 3am couldn’t be made worse, some of them I noticed were crying and the
majority had very shiny new weddings bands on their fingers. It was all I could
do to stop myself shouting for them to run for the hills and save themselves or
pop a couple in my bag for safeties sake.

After getting through Richmond I then had Charlotte, Wiston
Salem, oh good lord that was grim – beyond grim.  I think a part of me gave up hope for us all
then.  Also it was where massive pervert
sweat features lived and I got the fear he may have come to meet my bus. Then
through to Hickory, Morganton, bumfucknowhere, hickscounty, rapetown then to
Ashville.

Asheville however is worth all the horror and sleep
deprivation of the ride.  I didn’t think
that when I was thrown out at a Wendy’s on a highway junction 1 mile from town
( still with 15 kilos and spandex on in 95% humidity – I will learn one day)  but now I’d here I am relaxed,  in a beautiful warehouse conversion, feed and
looking forward to a beautiful North Carolina sunrise over there them hills.

 

 
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Comments

Sally on

sweat box......your new nickname......from now x i miss you...and i never realised you took such a damn fine photo x

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