little tara

Wednesday 25th April – Somebody’s messing with my head. I went into my dorm room at the Washington hostel yesterday afternoon to find a new roommate – a thin woman with short-cropped grey hair – sleeping in bed. Later, I bumped into one of my other room-mates who said they had seen our new room-mate too; a man, who had been asleep in bed. Both of us had been under the impression that we were in a female-only dorm so the appearance of a man was odd, and didn’t explain the ‘old woman’ I saw. Later that night, I went into the room again to find our new roomie STILL in bed, only this time it looked like a heavy-set man with pink cheeks. When I woke up in the morning, the creature was still in bed, only now it briefly pulled off its sleeping mask and looked like a pallid, emaciated, frail old man! Slightly freaked out, I left it to go back to sleep while I went to the bathroom. When I came back later, it was still in bed, only it was a normal-looking man with a hat on…! I say ‘it’ because quite frankly I don’t think it was human! Shape-shifter?!? Who sleeps that long and takes on so many guises in one day? This could be a case for Mulder and Scully! 🙂

Supernatural oddities aside (!), the day started pretty normally. I battled the teenage girls for the sinks in the washrooms before heading down to breakfast with Charlie at 9, where I issued a mandatory ‘second-language’ greeting to the man in charge of the breakfast bar. He remembered me from the day before and insisted on telling Charlie that we were old friends from way back. I suppose there was some truth in the friendship thing; yesterday he bullied some poor German boy into doing my breakfast dishes for me! The poor little tyke was horrified and agreed to do it, but I insisted on at least helping out. The man had guffawed loudly at the whole situation; I liked his sense of humour.

Anyway, we packed our bags and said our goodbyes to HI Washington DC before grabbing a taxi to the Greyhound station. It was a fair distance and cost only $10 including luggage surcharge – I keep being amazed at how cheap things can be here compared to Australia! We checked in at the counter with a woman whose accent was totally unintelligible – and this opinion coming from me, an English teacher whose job it often is to decipher indecipherable accents! While waiting for our bus, we eavesdropped on an interesting conversation coming from a group of strangers behind us; they were talking about Obama and Romney, of course, and possible election outcomes. What they were saying made total sense – the financial mess was Bush’s fault, Romney is not the Republican candidate of choice and thus has less of a chance of election, and America needs to give Obama another term if they seriously want to make it out of the financial quagmire. It was nice to hear sense coming out of the man on the street; too often in Australia all we see of the US are the rednecks on their soapboxes, full of hate and bigotry, preaching insanity. It was really quite reassuring to hear something different.

I got a little snacky (we had had to check in very early to collect our tickets), so I tootled over to a vending machine, which turned out to be filled with the most abominable garbage that could not even be loosely termed as ‘food’. In the end, I decided just to give in to the garbage, and bought a vile packet of flourescent orange cheese crackers filled with peanut butter. Yes, you read that correctly. Peanut butter. I tried one and nearly gagged, and had to make myself throw it away or I knew I’d keep eating it anyway!  Who eats that crap?!? (Apart from me, of course!) I then tried to buy water to rinse the taste out of my mouth, but an investigation of all five drink machines revealed that there was only one vending machine that sold water, and it was broken. D’oh! Not wanting to top off my evil snack with a soft drink which couldn’t quench my thirst anyway, I had just enough time to run to the bathroom and drink from the taps before we had to board the bus.

I’m not sure if Greyhound can be making much of a profit out of Washington. Every bus that we saw departing from the station was basically empty; either nobody’s going anywhere, or they’re all flying or driving themselves. Our bus had the two of us and maybe three others on it; other buses were leaving with 1 or 2 passengers, or in fact none. Perhaps they receive a government subsidy? I’m not sure, but I reckon all of those buses were running at a loss this morning.

Our journey was pleasantly uneventful; we both listened to our music and dozed on and off for the three-hour trip. We passed through thick green woodlands outside Washington, and then the bus made its only stop in Baltimore, which I found quite fascinating simply due to the fact that I had been an addict of The Wire, and passing by the docks made me think of Season Two…! Dork! After leaving Baltimore, we entered a stretch of freeway that passed through what looked like farmland; little wooden farmhouses with picturesque barns were dotted on both sides of the road, some hidden by trees. After this fairly delightful view, we were witness to an expanse of suburbs that reminded me quite strongly of Eastleigh, back in England – the stretch of brick houses along the railway line, if anybody reading this is familiar with that area…! Terraced brick houses with little white lean-tos, not in very good condition but quite liveable! There was an elderly lady sitting on her porch in a purple tracksuit, enjoying a vivid pink drink which matched a scrunchie in her hair; I wonder what her story was. I’m so often tempted just to go and talk to people and get inside their world for a bit, but sadly it’s not always possible – or indeed appropriate!

We could see the Philadelphia skyline from some distance; it’s a much bigger city than I had imagined, and quite spread-out. We started singing the theme from ‘Fresh Prince of Bel Air’ (“In West Philadelphia, born and raised, in the playground is where I spent most of my days, chilling out max and relaxing all cool and shooting some b-ball outside of the school…!”) as a sort of welcome to the city, but frowned at the thought of singing Springsteen’s downbeat ‘Streets of Philadelphia’… but then what should we see, first thing, as we came off the freeway? A giant poster of Springsteen himself, who is apparently the subject of an exhibition at the National Constitution Centre…!

Living large at our B&B… who let the scruffy backpackers in?!?
Philadelphia, April 2012

We exited the bus and hopped a cab to our bed & breakfast, which turned out to be MUCH more swanky than we had thought. It’s right in the heart of the historic waterfront district, in a heritage-listed (built in 1796) home. The sitting room and dining room are downstairs, and the guest rooms are on the numerous upper levels. It’s all Chippendale furniture and antique furnishings; classical music greeted us as we came through the front door and our room is small but impeccably decorated, with exposed wooden beams. The bed is so high that I need a stepping-stool to get on it…! No, really. The trials and tribulations of being a shortass, once again. 🙂 Upon check-in, we were informed that wine and cheese would be served from 5:30 to 6:30, and freshly-baked cookies would be served at 8pm, and breakfast was from 8am. Blimey. Wine and cheese and cookies! Quite the change from the YHA’s “You eat off it, you clean it” policy!!! We took our bags up to the room and then set up camp in the sitting room downstairs, playing at being aristocrats on the chaise longue while planning our ‘things to do in Philadelphia’ list. Having figured out a basic plan for the next few days, we set off for a little walk around the neighbourhood without much of an idea of where we were headed. We passed by a Cuban restaurant (I resisted the urge to go in) and a bunch of ridiculously cool-looking bars and restaurants before hitting Market Street. We popped into a little shop called Smak Parlour, which sold cutesy little knick-knacks with cutting slogans on them like, “Inner beauty is for amateurs” and “Yes, I am that kind of girl!” but resisted the urge to buy more junk that we didn’t need!

Continuing along the street, we came across a little park filled with dorks (read: future internet millionaires) playing frisbee, which was part of the larger Independence National Historical Park, an L-shaped green lined with a number of Phialdephia’s most important historical monuments. We snuck around the windows of the Liberty Bell Centre (closed at this time of day) but couldn’t get a glimpse of the legendary bell itself, and then stared admiringly at Independence Hall, which was also closed – it’ll have to wait for another day!

We then walked north along 6th Street, past the National Constitution Centre, and right onto Race Street, admiring all the beautiful little brick-lined laneways and historic buildings we were passing. Philadelphia really has a very different vibe to Washington DC; it buzzes with life and feels much more alternative; there’s something going on down every little alley and all of it seems interesting! It’s also painfully cool… but I think I can forgive it for that! We spotted a wicked-looking bar with a delicious-looking menu, and made a mental note of it for dinner. Continuing down Race Street, we passed a number of specialist industry shops; places to buy glassware for bars and kitchenware for restaurants, along with period restoration companies (complete with cats sunning themselves in the window), trendy boutiques, antique stores and galleries… quite the mix. One shopfront (an architect, I think) had a ‘Little Free Library’ outside – it was a hollowed-out dollhouse with a glass flip-out front. It was filled with about a dozen books, and the instructions read: “This Little Free Library is from friends who wanted to Pay It Forward. They hope you will do the same! Take a book, return a book.” What a great idea!

Elfreth’s Alley,
Philadelphia, April 2012

We wandered over to Elfreth’s Alley, which is apparently America’s oldest residential street. The street is very narrow (just about wide enough to fit a horse or two!), cobblestoned, and filled with houses that date back to the mid-1700s. All of them have wooden panel doors on the ground outside for entry to the basement, and the wooden shutters were just beautiful. We were lucky enough to get there at a time when other tourists were mostly elsewhere; the hordes had left us with the street mostly to ourselves, so we took a leisurely potter from one end to the other. It was quite stunning, but I have to say that I’d probably hate to live there; it’d be like living in a goldfish bowl with all those people passing through! I was, however, charmed by a little side alley called Bladen’s Court, which looked like a miniature grove and led off to ends unknown. Lovely! Just like The Secret Garden! 🙂

From Elfreth’s Alley, starving after missing lunch, we pretty much ran back to the Race Street Cafe, which we had spotted earlier. Charlie ordered a ‘Dogfish Head Noble Rot’ beer (!) and a Spanish chorizo and beef burger with cheese fries, and I had a Race Street Po’ Boy, which was freaking awesome. A long, sub-like roll sprinkled with polenta on the outside and parmesan on the inside and toasted, then filled with a little crab salad (not made with mayo, hallelujah), some lettuce and avocado, and topped with corn-meal coated fried prawns and a yummy savoury (BBQ of some kind?) sauce, served with the crunchiest fries in existence, tomato sauce, and home-made mustard. Oh. My god. I demolished the whole thing in what seemed like one breath. After ending the feeding frenzy, we glanced about to realise that we were almost entirely surrounded by medical staff from, we assume, a nearby hospital. I was mildly peeved by a woman at the next table who was so vapid she almost wasn’t there. The man she was with decided to order something to snack on, and suggested nachos with pulled pork. He asked her what she thought. “I don’t mind.” Well, are you hungry? “Um, I’m okay with whatever.” No really, what do you feel like? “Oh, I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” Do you like nachos with pork? “I really don’t mind.” You could see that he was almost as peeved as I was; if this was a date, she probably wasn’t going to see him again. Get a personality, woman!

Delicious Po’ Boy at the Race Street Cafe,
Philadelphia, April 2012

From Race Street we walked south along 2nd Street, stopping to investigate anything that took our fancy, most specifically a comic book shop called Brave New World. TOYS!!! I came thisclose to buying a ‘Supernatural’ comic book but tamed myself at the last minute. I then had a near heart attack when I saw this t-shirt representing the movie ‘Stand By Me’ (the Pez! The comb! The leech!) but sadly they only had it in small! Aaaagh! When we reached Market Street, we hung a left towards the waterfront where we passed an Italian restaurant and some rather intimidating guys in suits outside… sleep with the fishes!!! After doing a little tour of the neighbourhood (more awesome-looking bars and restaurants; it would take a lifetime to try them all!), we found ourselves back at the hotel just in time for hot chocolate and fresh-baked cookies! Our fellow guest-housers included a Parisian woman, a German guy and a couple from Texas… quite the mix!

And now here we are, pleasantly exhausted and ready for bed after another successful day of eating and doing stuff. 🙂

Thanks for stopping by,

Tara.

Tags: food, philadelphia, travel