Viagra Moles

It finally happened. After many goodbyes and one false start I finally left Amherst. There were handshakes and hugs at the bus stop as Alex, Sam and Lee-Roy all headed home for xmas. When forced to be on your own it is better to embrace the independence than dwell on the loneliness so I chose to head inland and up. Michael had said something poignant the other day when he was leaving Amherst for good, "the same rural things that were getting me down when we first arrived are getting me down as I leave", and as my bus took me past these same places for the first time since August I knew exactly what he meant. I had an outstanding time this semester, and even if Amherst is an odd little town in Western Massachusetts, the beauty and feel of the surrounding areas are unique as they are lovely. I was one of the last to leave Amherst, and even though I hadn't finished all my work last week and got sick, I'd become quite smitten with the place and the comfort borne from this made it easy to stay those extra days.

making thermals sexy

Either that, or I was dreading 12 hours on a Greyhound. Needless to say, the experience lived up to its reputation. For all the lovely things I saw, like the ice stalactite-esque formations on the walls of the highway , I was greeted by the bizarre - a hedge that spelt out  the word ‘pray’, and the awful - a young man making his grandmother carry her own bags in Lennox.

I also learned a few things on the bus trip. The fingers on my left hand look like I now suffer from mild-vitiligo having not been able to regularly wash them for nearly 4 weeks. Albany's Greyhound station smells like poo, even with a blocked nose, though this is due to all the homeless people taking refuge in there. It has snowed everywhere but Amherst lately. Left and Leaving by The Weakerthans is outstanding for bus trips and that you can feed yourself two bottles of soda and 3 packets of crisps all day and feel fine.

giant green lady

Not quite Trafalgar Square

Buffalo Skyline

Border Patrol briefly inspected the bus, though it had never left the country. I wonder what would have happened had I not brought my passport, I was travelling within the country, and though I am here legally; my Australian identification would hardly be sufficient to them. Anyway, my viewing of Planes, Trains and Automobiles ended just before Buffalo. I am a little ashamed having never seen it before, but given the adventures of my friends trying to return to the United Kingdom, I have developed a trifle more empathy for them.

Once in Buffalo I was greeted by another homeless man, this time his pants had fallen down to reveal his shit-stained underwear. No matter how many times I see things like this in America, it still seems incredibly sad and strange. A few blocks from this vagrant hangout is one of the most beautiful buildings in the country. It's the perfect example of this country's bi-polar existence.

 

I managed my self check-in at the near empty hostel but sleep was punctuated with the permanent blaring of xmas carols from the shop across main st. My cousin had stayed in the exact same hostel two weeks ago, and upon hearing the opening of silent night I felt the empathy pour out for him.

Not wanting to waste my time in Buffalo, I woke up early and braved the cold on an early morning walk of the city. Immediately I was struck by the city’s architecture. From the theatres to the banks, the area has a high concentration of amazing structures. The liberty building has two replicas of the Statue of Liberty on the top, mixing the kitsche with authority, but the predictable highlight is the City Hall. I’d seen it in my books on skyscrapers and architecture tours of the internet, but I’m yet to find a photo that does it justice. The antique air conditioners placed in random intervals do not detract from the native American patterns that are intertwined with an art deco design. It’s old, it’s brown and it’s in Buffalo, but it could well be one of the best buildings in the country.

My wrist is still broken, so all my photos are wonky.

Equipped with my backpack and boots, I began my three hour trek to meet John and Michael. Neither the weight of the bag or the snow in my face had an effect on my walk back to the Greyhound station. If anything, it’s a cathartic experience and a reminder that backpacking isn’t meant to be easy, though it is brilliant fun.

Give the shortness of my stay in Buffalo, I took the public bus to Niagra Falls so I’d squeeze in a bit more of city. The houses looked just like the ones that made me love Montreal and just before the view went from Jekyll to Hyde, Buffalo randomly threw in a monolithic castle like structure. Like the perfect one night stand, my time in Buffalo was short-lived but left an outstanding impression.

Even though everyone was still wearing coats, scarves and hats I left the cosiness of the bus for a snow trudge towards Canada. Along the way a lady stopped her car to inform me that my wrapped up appearance reminded her of winter and that it brought a smile to her face. It was sweet, and clearly my Australian skin hasn’t adjusted to the weather, but I thought a snow covered city would have been enough of a reminder of winter.

Is that it?

Like Blackpool, but with a water feature - Max

Cold

I entered an international limbo by crossing the bridge into Canada but stopped to capture the falls. My immediate thoughts were, “is this it?” as my view was blanketed by mist and frost. I couldn’t fathom that two cities were built around these. But as I walked closer and closer to the main part of the falls I began to take more of it in. The length of the walk was an indicator of the grandeur that came with nature’s leaking tap.

Not once did the backpack or the cold feel like a burden on the 90 minute walk and I never skipped a vantage point in favour of comfort. The falls were like a hockey player, with the punishing brutality pushing the water off the edge, but the finesse to let parts of it freeze in elegant icicles in a near impossible proximity.

Colder

Jim & Pam

The boats were closed for the season, but my initial impression was defied. I left the falls sufficiently impressed. It’s the ideal start to my trip, I’m exhausted, but I’m seeing and doing new things, the one’s I had read and seen so much about from the other side of the world. Next stop is Toronto, though at a calmer pace than the last 24 hours. The bus is taking us past the water, where a rusted out ship lays stuck in a frozen section of a harbour. The Toronto skyline is visible in the distance, separated by water that is cooler than the average Canadian, of which Neil Young is one. I already love it here.

Coldest

 ***Song
 Neva Dinova - Spring Cleaning
The Bright Eyes/Neva Dinova splits is one of my favourites, it's another perfect long-haul bus trip record. Here's Neva playing one of the bests sons Conor has written