Seattle: 10:30PM
Other than the border guard being intensely interested in my passport and searching my bag, the busride down was entirely uneventful. I suspect this innocuous beginning to my trip lulled me into a false sense of security and confidence, something which was firmly put down once I arrived in Seattle. I had studied the map of the city and had figured that while I would most likely take the bus to my hostel, walking was a reasonable endeavor.
To make a long, rather uneventful story shorter, I got lost. I walked with all my stuff for at least an hour and a half, ending up at the Hospital at 8th & Jefferson, a place that only got more unnerving the longer I spent there. No one had any idea where 5th & Jackson was (my destination) but were all unanimously agreed that if there was anywhere I should be, it wasn't in the neighborhood I was in. One woman, a nurse no less, confided to me that she 'sure as well wouldn't walk around this neighborhood askin' directions'. She ended all her statements to me with 'boy', something I can't recall ever being called, even when I was one. The namecalling however, had just begun.
At this point I was literally drenched in sweat from walking with about 50 pounds of weight on my back for an hour and a half and was actually beginning to be fearful of my surroundings. So, I took a cab. The cabbie tried to short me ten bucks which he failed at. I managed to get lost again, which sucked, but taught me a valuable lesson: stay out of S. Seattle at night. It was during my short meandering looking for hostel that the 'quote of the day' was uttered to me by a drunk laying on a bench in what seemed to me as a promiscuous pose. He spoke with a slur:
"You got a bag 'o' weed for me, boy?"
There was that 'boy' moniker again I thought to myself,
"Sorry buddy, I guess I'm out" I answered
"That's just like you, all you honkey motherfuckers. I want a bag you honkey!"
I have to admit that I laughed in his face, having never been called a 'honkey' before. I soon realized that this was a situation not suited to my goals and so moved on, all the while having abuse hurled at me by the promiscuously posed homeless man. I came across my hostel soon enough, finding it at the corner I had been dropped off, although the entrance was around the corner. It was rather nice actually, although I balked at having to spend 40$ on what was going to end up as a 7 hour sleep. That's 5.71 an hour, bullshit. They didn't even have any proper tea in the morning, who the fuck drinks green tea in the morning!? ok ok, that's enough for tonight.
Train From Seattle to Oakland
Of all the things I was worried about on this trip, the largest was the train. When I considered this, I realized that I'm actually spending a good chunk of the two weeks on a train. I had heard great things about the train down the coast but I never really trusted it, thinking of rail systems as generally decrepit and underfunded.
This train absolutely shattered my expectations, the seats are quite big and comfortable, there's loads of legroom, it's clean and there are super cute national parks people giving a history of the region in the viewing car! boo yeah!. The best thing, they serve beer! I could live on this thing. It's just past eleven at the moment and I've been on this thing for around 13 hours, with another 10 to go. There are a good four hours in between spots where you can actually get off and stretch your legs. What's rather odd is that they actually call them 'smoke breaks' over the P.A. Before we get to a station the attendant goes on for a good five minutes about how 'If anyone wants to 'SMOKE', then now would be the best time to 'SMOKE YOUR CIGARETTES' etc etc. A Canadian would never get away with that sort of thing, encouranging smoking and all that. Ha! cultural differences.
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