Well I guess you're wondering where I've been. No, I didn't die at "porn and chicken" night. I'm currently sailing through the Great Plains, a mere sixteen hours into this mammoth train journey to Seattle. I won't be able to upload this and any other blogs I choose to put up until I reach the city, so I'll give an overview of what I have done.
Monday involved some great bbq and ended with the aforementioned night out. I've been informed by my sister that my blog is starting to move away from the family-friendly fun of earlier posts and now seems to involve me just drinking. Needless to say I didn't drink and I didn't actually eat any chicken on Monday night. If anyone wants to hear any grittier details then please ask me directly, unless I'm out drinking.
Tuesday was a pretty chill day, and ended with a really special Death Cab concert and then "bumping into" some Aussies at the hostel. There were so many great people in Chicago that it was difficult to say goodbye to everyone, but I will definitely be back as soon as possible. Sometimes you really do connect with a place, although it does make you feel as though you're cheating on Chesterfield. I find myself constantly saying to Americans that they simply must visit, be it for the cultured nightlife or the attractive people that frequent the flea market. It's a helluva town and I hope you Chesterfieldians are aware of how lucky you are.
After a bit of rushing around on Wednesday morning, I made my train with time to pick up some provisions. These trains really are full of interesting characters. I've met a musician called Evan, who came on board with a beautiful banjo that he made himself. There was Matt, a trombone player who has played on some cool records including Interpol tracks. He invited me to Minneapolis to show me the scene there, which would be great. There was also Billie-Jean, a forty-four year old woman carrying miniature bottles of rum and a bag of ice, who flashed a car when we hit a stop sign. Of course, I didn't touch the rum nor did I look. There were also some Amish couples playing uno, just because.
Today should be a very scenic route - said deadpan with the American pronunciation - and includes a sunset view of Glacier National Park. Sadly, Billie-Jean will have got off by then (she's not my lover. Hee hee). It will also involve another night sleeping without a pillow. That's right people - out in the states I'm a real man. I've not shaved, I'm using dry shampoo and I'm riding through the plains like a rancher hunting buffalo. Well actually, there's none here anymore, and I would prefer some nice cous-cous anyway.
I'll leave you with a picture of pure Americana: Evan playing his fretless banjo while the Amish sing and destroy each other at uno. Stay safe!
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