Tramps With Knives, Weirdos on Buses and Beating up Girls. A
typical day in the USA.
Las Vegas -> Bakersfield, 7th November 2001
After our long lie in yesterday, our bodies decided they wanted an
early start today, so by 8am we were all packed and ready to go.
Before leaving this 'lovely' hostel behind, we popped into the
kitchen to get our free pancake breakfast. Yummy! However, when we
got there, all we found was a can of spray-oil, a big frying pan and
a huge bowl of thick pancake mix. Ah, a do-it-yourself breakfast. I
didn't want one anyway. But Em & Nat decide to give it a go (usually
they're professionals at making pancakes at home) but after a couple
of average attempts (American pancake mix is different, apparently)
they decide they've had enough.
On our way out, we got chatting to a guy working there about the
hostage situation last night. He sounded really matter-of-fact when
he told us it was a common event, it happens more or less every week
now. They practically follow a script now:
POLICE: Oh, not you again, you know the drill, give up the girl and
you won't be hurt.
GUY: I'm not going without a fight!
POLICE: You've said that the last two weeks!
The American Train network isn't very extensive in some places, so
many legs, included in the price of our pass, are done by buses. The
Vegas to Bakersfield trip, our next journey, is done by coach
leaving from the Greyhound bus station. The Greyhound bus company
has an extensive network of buses that cover almost all of the
country. Basically, if you want to get around America, you do it by
train (Amtrak) or by bus (Greyhound).
The walk to the station was pretty uneventful, except for a few
things. We made a stop at McDonalds for breakfast, which had an
obligatory casino attached to it. Yum, Egg McMuffin, the breakfast
of kings! Round the next corner we started getting harassed by a
tramp who, quite forcefully, wanted money. Eventually we managed to
get rid of him. But we found him soon later, harassing some other
backpackers and trying to steal a bottle of coke from a delivery
truck.
Just when we thought we'd reached the station safely, we were
confronted by another tramp being, quite forcefully, searched by a
policeman over a car bonnet. The policeman soon found a large
Stanley knife in the guy's pocket. We left while the tramp tried to
explain having this item in his possession.
 At the Greyhound station, we had a short wait for our bus. Looking
out at the greyhound buses, we found it quite amusing how loads of
people were squeezing into old, cramped buses for long-distance
journeys. Amtrak costs about the same as Greyhound, but the comfort
of Amtrak is in a different league to Greyhound. Yeay! Amtrak rules!
Plus, we started to hear stories about the very strange, and scary,
characters that can often be found on greyhound buses. It's not fun
spending an 8 hour journey squashed next to an old loony guy.
When our bus eventually came along, we were happy to find that we
were sharing a 45 seater coach with just 2 other people. Yeay!
Space! The journey passes quickly as we spread out over the coach
and enjoyed the views of desolate scrubland and towering mountains
in the distance.
 At the station in Bakersfield, I did the usual phoning around for a
place to stay. We'd discovered that one of the advantages of
travelling in a group, is that sharing a nice hotel room, can often
work out the same price, or cheaper, than paying for 4 dorm beds. I
manage to find a hotel that charges only $40 (so $10 each) and will
pick us up from the station. After trying to work my way through the
thick Indian accent of the guy on the phone, I eventually work out
that a silver mini-van will meet us at the station in about 20
minutes.
While we were waiting, Nat and I had a bit of play fight. Just after
she kicked me, an old guy with grey hair, glasses and looking a bit
gnome like, turned up, holding his granddaughter by the hand. I then
kicked Nat (gently) back, and the old man started to (lightly) have
a go at be about beating girls up. I tried, with no success, to
explain that she had started it, but he'd quickly changed the topic
to talking about his daughter and himself. While he was talking, he
kept getting his granddaughter to nod or speak in agreement, pulling
her around like a little puppet. Once he'd finished, he asked us
where we were off to next. When I told him, he said, "Ah, San
Francisco, there's plenty of old ladies for you to beat up there!"
He gave us a grin then left.
The silver mini-van turned up on time and we were greeted by a bald,
middle-aged Indian. He took us, while chatting cheerfully about
nothing in particular, through town to the hotel. From the outside,
it looked quite mediocre, but inside, the room was fantastic. Huge,
clean, en-suite, TV and free hot drinks, all for $10 each! We made
good use of our TV before all drifting off to sleep.
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