The City of Cheesesteaks and Confinement

Philadelphia as far as I am concerned is famous for cream cheese, Bruce Springsteen and that film with Tom Hanks. I felt they played these down a little.

As well as the whole giving birth to American independence thing, the city proudly proclaimed itself to be home of the cheesesteak, a steak and cheese sandwich with a frankly ingenious name. Every sandwich store screamed that they were the best in the city, street or area or even less confidently, just the shop. Created in 1930, by a man called Pat, they are still going strong today. In one street in South Philadelphia, just past the wonderful Italian market, the two most famous cheesesteak suppliers are Pat's (the creator) and Geno's (the neon light adorned, and clearly Vegas inspired store.) Take a guess where we went. Go on. I can wait.








Yes, it was Pat's of course. We've already been to Vegas. We were greeted by a gimmicky sign which told you how to order, which I ignored as my accent still leads to confusion enough. As all the cheese is exactly the same, bland and melty, I bit the bullet and got my cheesesteak wit whiz; for British readers that is heavily processed, garishly coloured 'cheese' from a can or jar...named well. It was good, but I wouldn't have another one.

Another thing which Philadelphia is famous for is a system of incarceration emphasising solitary confinement as a means of rehabilitation. Who knew? My visit to the Eastern State Penitentiary was both interesting and a little horrifying. The Gothic castle-like walls and vastness of the place lent a spooky air, and the Steve Buscemi narrated audio tour added to the drama. The most famous prisoner was Al Capone, the Paris Hilton of his day, treated to a comfortable cell and numerous other privileges. Crazy.

All in all I saw a lot of what Philadelphia had to offer, and what I saw I liked. I also managed to do a tour of all the places which you are allowed to sit down for free, having over exerted myself on the first day. You can tell a lot about a city from it's sitting down facilities I always find, and Philly rose to the challenge admirably.

Go, Go, Go: A Whistlestop Tour of New York

While we were in Philadelphia, we took the opportunity to go for a day trip to New York, a mere 2 hour bus ride away for a bargain $12 return. The coach journey there was great and we arrived into the bustling metropolis at around 10.30, ready for a coffee. We actually met up with a local, a friend of Mike's who was kind enough to point out some of the sights and help us get our bearings in the hustle and bustle of the city in the muggy heat.

Within the first hour or so we had ticked off the Empire State Building, Chrysler Building, Grand Central Station, and Times Square. A quick photo opportunity for each and we were off to the next thing, conscious that one day was nowhere near long enough to spend in this marvellous place.

A lunch date with another local and we were off to briefly see Central Park, the size of which was almost unfathomable. I think you could have fitted the city of London in about 3 times over or something ridiculous. Apart from food and a day pass for the subway, which was incredibly similar to the Tube, we spent no money at all there. The afternoon free return ferry ride to Statten Island which afforded wonderful views of that iconic skyline and the Statue of Liberty was the best bargain of the whole week.

After a lightening speed dash around town, we got a pizza in Little Italy, saw the very edge of SoHo, and Chinatown and then had to find where we were meant to be to catch the coach back. There were no signs to tell us that we were in the right place and after asking several unhelpful people, one of which tried to convince us to take her coach for $10, (er, no) we were pointed in the direction of the woman who was 'running' the show. She spoke very little English and had even less patience. After ignoring me twice, I asked her whether this was the right place to wait for the Philadelphia bus and was answered with yes, yes, yes. It seemed she had an affliction which meant she could only say one word at a time and had to repeat it three times. Maybe it was for good luck. After witnessing the shambles that was the coach to Washington DC, involving pointing to a bus across the street and shouting DC, DC, DC; to which numerous people were then expected to run across two busy roads with their luggage lest they got left behind and had to spend more time with the crazy coach woman; she, and us, needed luck.

Our turn finally came - we knew that as she shouted Phil-delph and then stood at the doorway checking tickets, which she couldn't appear to read or fathom. Still, we made it on to the coach and when everyone had eventually piled on, she shouted at the driver, GO, GO, GO and we were off. The coach, which smelt strongly of chemical toilets and made a sharp bleeping noise every minute, somehow made it's way through the rush hour streets and we watched the sun set over New York, happy to have crammed in so much, and yet again, unable to believe our luck that we had finally got to visit.

A Lesson in US History; or Bad Brits and God Bless America

My first episode of solo tourism left me with a much better understanding of American history, as well as a collection of photos with red and blue stars and stripes. In terms of the main historical sights in the 'old town' part of Philadelphia, a common theme emerged; that of a strong patriotic atmosphere teemed with a considerable amount of Brit-bashing. The main attractions seemed to me to be geared towards US tourists rather than international, and there was a great deal of self congratulatory implicit and explicit propaganda.

The security system to get in to see the Liberty Bell was hard core. My bag was thoroughly searched; the inside of my camera case was checked as part of the general delve. I suspected the guard would have liked to rifle through my wallet, closely examine my tissues in case they had been used, read my notebook, and perhaps send away a piece of apple to be checked for poison, but instead she grudgingly let me through, along with hordes of other people so we could all stand in the way of each other's photos.

Independence Hall and Congress Hall were really interesting and I gained most of my knowledge from the different talks here. When it was revealed that I was from the UK, after the guide had been talking about the evil British oppressors (all true I know) other people couldn't help subconsciously (I hope) moving away from me, which was nice. That usually only happens when I haven't washed. I'm not sure my base knowledge of the political system was strong enough for when they compared the systems now and then, so I supplemented my knowledge with one of the free films at the excellent Visitor Centre.

The Constitution Centre though won the propaganda prize with it's multi-media show called Freedom Rising. With the rousing music, images of worldwide moments of liberty, and stirring words telling an audience of mostly school children how amazing the nation is, you could be forgiven for believing that the fall of the Berlin Wall and end of the South African apartheid had also been US victories. American independence and the rise of a great nation is a history which the US should be rightly proud of, however, was over stated here and large aspects of people who were not granted liberty were totally ignored. Although I can take a more considered outlook to what I am presented with, a seven year old fed a diet of hype may not be able to as easily.

On the other hand, the National Liberty Museum, was excellent. It was comprehensive, fair, thought provoking, and in places a very touching series of exhibits about the struggle for various freedoms across the world. For half the price of the flashy Constitution Center, I spent double the time and learnt about four times as much.

Another powerful symbol of America in the form of Hollywood was the Rocky Statue. Having walked the breadth of the city to get here to take a photo, and gaining a rather impressive blister in the process, I have inserted this paragraph and picture here, even though it doesn't quite fit in. Also, it makes a welcome relief from my honesty / rudeness (delete as appropriate) and a more fitting way to end this post.

The East Coast

We have just spent a week in Philadelphia where Mike attended a conference and I accompanied him as a good opportunity to see another part of the country. I really liked the city and it felt very much like we were half way home. It was older, shabbier and more rough around the edges, with lots more British and Irish influences especially. Narrower darker streets with brick houses and a real sense of history all helped to convey a more European feel; as well as football matches on the TV in most bars and a big selection of British beer on tap...

The B&B we stayed in was certainly not like the Californian America we have thus far been exposed to. It was quirky and unique and I'm sure some sitcoms have been based on less. The slightly eccentric and largely elusive owner was having some renovation work done so there was a chaotic air about the place, but you can stay in a highly sanitised featureless hotel room any day. How often do you get to stay in a room decorated in a French château style with a hand painted mural of a balcony with views to formal gardens by your breakfast table? Yeah, I thought not. Once I had got over the initial weirdness and fear, it was great! (I say this having had a good night sleep last night though.)

The first time I met the owner, she shuffled up to the room in furry slippers with an entourage of over excited tiny yappy dogs (called Lulu, Lilly and Saffy) who she appeared to have very little control over. All the while she spoke to me, she was shouting throatily down the phone (although he could probably hear her without it) to a man downstairs called George who was doing something or other to the electrics. Those same dogs woke me at 6am every morning followed by raspy loud chastising. The whole experience was a little like the League of Gentleman with American accents, but our host was polite and offered lots of help and the location was good. As long as you liked to OD on dairy products, the breakfast was fine too, and passing solids in the toilet seemed to be no problem too. All in all, we had a fun week!

Hic

Following a Saturday afternoon of wine tasting in Sonoma, I have come to the conclusion that this activity is both fun and dangerous, particularly if followed by a wedding in a vineyard where the free wine continues to flow.

I would normally have more to write on the subject, but for some reason I seem to have forgotten most of the details.