With my ears still ringing from Halloween I woke in a dorm with it's usual odd mix. Somehow the hostel managed to put together 6 people who have no effective way of communicating with each other. We've got an Italian who has come to Miami looking for work. A Dane who has come to Miami to sleep for Denmark (he's always in bed, whatever time of day it is). There's an Argentine who sits outside and smokes all day. It's great because when I say 'Maradona is a cheating bastard' he doesn't understand. As for the bloke in the bunk above me, I have no idea where he is from (I think he talks caveman) or what he gets up to. The bed is always shaking (so I don't really want to know). Finally there's the big fat chef who is another escapee from Michigan. He snores like a pig and he also has (and I should point out that I don't make a habit of looking at mens bodies or have a problem with people who do) little bruises all over his fat body. I wouldn't eat at his restaurant. Anyway they are all examples of Miami's long timers who were attracted by the white beach and reputation.
After 16 days in Florida I'm heading to Atlanta, Georgia today. I'm determined to leave from the closest Greyhound terminal this time. So I took a local bus, but as Mx has said the buses no longer stop at the Greyhound terminal (it's that dodgy). I was confident that I could walk from the main local bus terminal to the Greyhound terminal as I have a map in my rough guide and it really isn't far. Mx will confirm that my sense of direction is legendary, but when I got to where I thought the terminal should be, guess what, there was no sign. I mean nothing, not even a building, just a desolate piece of wasteland.
I asked a local policewomen who was parked there (not always a sign of a good neighbourhood) and she told me it has been moved and directed me down a street that looked like downtown Beirut. Being the brave bunny that I am I hailed a cab. He laughed at me and said it was only about 500 yards away. "Are you sure you want a cab" he said "Not now that you've mocked" I thought, 'I'll show him'. Well it was the most intimidating and longest 500 yards that I've ever walked. Worse than walking to the Dep Head office when you've just been kicked out of R.E. by Rev Fozz for the 6th successive week. It smelt like an old people's home (not Mr Davey's office, but Beirut) if you get my drift. I don't think these homeless people are toilet trained. It's pretty bizarre, because for about 10 square blocks it's all disused warehouses and derelict building, but at either end you've got a brand new sports arena (One where the Miami Heat play and the other part of the University). Also just to the north they are constructing a brand new shopping mall. This part of downtown is within view of 4 luxury liners moored in Miami Harbour. Can't people see that these guys need homes not shops or basketball arena's. This country has got so many things arse about face.
When I got the the terminal, it was a portacabin, I never asked why (I probably wouldn't like the answer), but it explains why there is nothing at the old site. Suffice to say I wish I'd gone to the other terminal. There were a few others ( and I mean a few) who'd risked this terminal. Notably there was the Miami version of Daisy (from the Springer bus to Chicago). That means she was slightly more glamorous (she had no holes in her clothes), but she still wittered away. I just wanted to smack her. The chap sat next to me was reading a magazine and kept mumbling "That's a hard ass truck." Mate, it's a pick up with some plastic bits stuck on and covered in stickers. It turns out that he himself paid $500 for a similar 'truck' and then spent $70,000 on doing it up. He justified it by saying that at least he didn't spend it on crack. 1 question chum, why would you spend $70,000 on a truck and then go Greyhound. It turns out that he's a recovering heroin addict, the penny drops.
Anyway we left Miami at 16.15 and headed up the east coast of Florida arriving in Jacksonville at about 3.00. The only thing of note that happened was I think I broke my big toe in the toilet. I was doing what people do in toilets when the bus stopped suddenly and threw me across the cubicle causing me to stub my toe. I suppose I should have sat down, but the toilet is a complicated system, comprising of a raised hole with some disinfectant poured down. Towards the end of a journey, the fuller the hole gets and the bumpier the ride is, then it has been known for people to experience 'splashback'. Next time I'll hold it, I try not to use them anyway, but I was bursting. Is this what we've descended to?
The only other thing from the journey was a couple of home boys (one of whom was on crutches) had a conversation at full volume. They regaled us with their stories of when they'd been shot and when they got busted by the police. The guy on crutches had been shot in the leg. Their parents must be so proud.
It amazes me the diversity of the people of greyhounds. Mainly scum bags.
