Amtrekkin' 2 » EMC

The End of the Road

EMC — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 02:53:28 +0000

My last day in San Francisco was wonderful. I had breakfast in my hostel, like usual, with some friends, and then I set off to figure out how to get to Mt. Davidson. I took a bus to the base of the mountain, did the mile hike straight uphill. Whew!

After I navigated my way back to the Green Tortoise I walked down to the Warf, went grocery shopping to stock up for the long, long ride home, and enjoyed my walk back people watching all the while. I got back to my hostel finally and we all hung out in the ball room for the duration of the night, taking in my final day in an amazing city.

It’s been a long train ride home, about 57 hours so far. I was pretty jealous of the brothers sitting behind me who got on last night and got off this afternoon (thanks for those Cheez-It’s, by the way, they’re my favorite). However, it was my choice to do this, I knew it’d be a bit brutal. This whole trip has been a bit brutal: living on my own, on the road, moving fast, and making all my own choices is not easy, but a brilliant learning experience, and insanely fun. Occasionally while walking around a city a huge grin would appear on my face, out of nowhere, just because.

Winterim Fair, where I, and everyone else, presents what they did all three weeks of Winterim is this Tuesday the 24^th at 7 PM at Maumee Valley, so come check it out. Hear some jazz, eat some surely amazing food from the cooking Winterim, check out the Rube Goldberg’s by the Tech Wars Winterim, hear about students experiences networking to other schools, see what others decided to do for Independent studies, and of course come talk to me about my trip, I still have a lot to tell.

Thanks for reading everyone.

Do I have to Leave?

EMC — Sat, 21 Nov 2009 00:55:24 +0000

It’s been a great couple of days. Wednesday was pretty relaxed. Trying to fit as much as possible into one day for three weeks gets tiring, so I needed a break. James and I went out to eat with Nate, a guy we met at the hostel, to Mo’s, who has the best burgers we’ve ever had: a big chunk of tender, juicy meat, a hardy bun, slabbered in BBQ sauce, and with plenty of bacon; it was delicious.

James and Nate

We walked out of the restaurant into what we first thought was a riot in the streets. There was a block full of people wearing green, white, and red, waving flags, honking horns, and screaming. A soccer team had just won a game apparently, and these people were very excited. We three just stood on the corner watching in bewilderment, taking in the energy. The cops eventually showed up and broke up the party, and after they all drove away honking horns and waving flags out the windows Nate left us to go to Oakland. James took me down to the Warf and showed me around a little bit. We watched some break dancers, talked to some people he had randomly met down there, and just hung out.

Later that night while we were walking up to the hostel James and this guy staying at the Green Tortoise started talking about how the best way to travel is with no plan, and to just follow your heart wherever it takes you. I realized how true that was. I tried to fit 7 cities into 21 days, when in reality many of these cities needed more than 21 days to even get to know. I had had the urge to stay in SF another night and to skip Denver all day that day, and I mentioned it to James at one point. After our conversation he looked at me with a face that was encouraging me to stay another night, I knew what I had to do. I went upstairs and changed my plans again: one more day in San Francisco, the coolest place I’ve ever been, skip Denver, and come home a day early.

Canceling SLC was an easy decision, I knew no one there and it was supposed to be fairly boring. Denver, on the other hand, was supposed to be amazing. I was going to meet up with Jessica again, she wanted to show me around, and I was supposed to stay with Nancy Greeley, an MV alumni. I was excited for both things. However, if Denver is supposed to be so awesome, I think it would deserve more than two small days, and SF was so great that the five days I did have there did still not do it justice.

I’m going to be traveling again this summer, and possibly take a year off from school to continue on going. I’ll be able to do it right this time. I’ll stay in each city for as much time as I think I need to, not a measly two days. I’m going to have some destinations in mind, but I don’t want to know exactly where I’m going next until it’s time to go.

If I could go back in time and do it differently, though, I don’t think I’d change a thing. The best way to learn how to do something right is to do it wrong. I had an amazing experience that I could never forget, and my worst experience was just leaving. I learned so much, more than school could ever teach me; about travel, life, living, lemons, and a few random facts as well. My path became intertwined with James’ (and many others) and I would be shocked if we did not see each other again.

Good Times in SF

EMC — Wed, 18 Nov 2009 08:49:07 +0000

After my little motorcycle adventure through the city I got a text from my friend Jessica who I met on the train to Los Angeles. We met up for pizza and before I knew it we were on a train to go see an art show of her friends in Oakland. There was a really good band playing and the art was amazing. I met a bunch of people there and had a great time. Jessica had originally planned to go to Denver at the beginning of the week, when I was supposed to be leaving for Salt Lake, but her plans changed and she’s now planning on going to Denver when I am.

I slept in today to try to catch up on some sleep. After waking I walked down the block to City Lights Books, an iconic place for the beat poet movement. I proceeded through China town and got my lunch, then went to the Financial District to hang out. I hopped onto the 71 bus on Market and took it all the way to Haight-Ashbury, a cool area of SF involved in the formation of many bands and the hippie movement.

I took the bus all the way back to the Green Tortoise. As I was walking up to the front step I saw my mate Russell from Australia (he told me about the GoCar and inadvertently convinced me to rent one) and we started talking. I look to my left and there is James who I met on the train to LA, standing there, staring at me in utter disbelief. We start cracking up, completely shocked that we ran into each other in this huge city. He’s staying at my hostel tonight so we went up to the lobby and played cards, fosball, and met plenty of other faces.

Two great coincidences happening to me in two days, involving the two people I made good friends with on the train to LA. I love travelling.

San Francisco

EMC — Tue, 17 Nov 2009 00:43:13 +0000

The train to San Francisco was boring to say the least. I was very tired, and the one person I started talking to walked away after a minute. I just sat in my seat taking pictures, reading, and texting the whole time. We got to Oakland and I transferred onto a bus to take me into the city. The bus went over the Bay Bridge opening up an amazing view of the San Francisco skyline, it was so beautiful. After I got off the bus I enjoyed a mile long hike to the Green Tortoise Hostel, only about half of it uphill (I use the word “enjoyed” very loosely here). I got settled in to my bed, but I already loved SF so much I had to go exploring. An hour and a half later I was fast asleep.

I woke up around 10 o’clock yesterday morning and decided to walk the Golden Gate Bridge. I knew it was some distance away, but I guess I didn’t really realize how long that distance was. By 2 PM I was just about to start my trek across (granted I stopped to rest and take pictures many times). I got to the other side, rested some more, and began my six mile walk back. It was quite the journey, and it took up my entire day.

The photo below is of some graffiti on the sidewalk right under the bridge. I was walking by and it stopped my directly in my tracks, I fumbled for my camera to get a shot as quickly as possible.

I was originally scheduled to leave San Francisco tomorrow morning to head to Salt Lake City. However, I found SF to be such a cool place I really wanted to stay longer. I woke up this morning and walked down to the Amtrak station to rebook my tickets, and I am now staying here until Thursday morning and going straight to Denver, skipping Salt Lake entirely. I think it is a wonderful decision.

After I got all my plans in order I went and rented a GoCar, a small, 50 cc motorcycle-car thing. Yes, it was fun.

PIMPIN AINT EASY

Claremont and LA

EMC — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 02:43:54 +0000

People have been asking me “how does LA compare to Seattle?” As much as I would love to compare and contrast the cities, it really isn’t possible. The experiences I had and the way I went about the cities were totally different. In Seattle I walked everywhere. In LA I sat in a convertible. In Seattle I walked out of the train with no plan at all, and just wandered. In LA, Zima picked me up from the station and we went to Claremont McKenna.

Zima and his friend Wade picked me up from Union Station in Los Angeles in a Mustang convertible We drove back to CMC with the top down, a 30 minute drive. We got to his dorm and I got started on my laundry. Three days in the only clean clothes I had left made them very, very dirty, not to mention smell… I smelled. Got the laundry going, took a well needed shower and went around meeting people. We got back to the room and I fell asleep almost immediately.

Thursday I got to know the Claremont colleges a bit better. There are five schools in practically the same campus: Claremont McKenna, Pomona, Harvey Mudd, Scripps and, Pitzer. Of all the schools, it was Harvey Mudd that caught my attention the most, I felt like I was in a movie. I walk into campus, and there’s loud music playing: metal, loud metal. We continued walking, myself already in utter shock, and happen upon a big pile of junk right below a dorm room balcony. I turned to Wade, “Is it art?”

“No, Elliot, that’s trash. Here, kick it, kick the trash” So we proceeded to to kick a burned up computer that was thrown for a balcony. Basically, Mudd is just a bunch of crazy engineering students all put together in a very free environment. Chaos does ensue.

Zima, Wade, Ben, Jake, and me took a trip to the top of a near by mountain, to check out the scenery.

Friday we took the Mustang GT into Los Angeles. I went with Zima, of course, and his friends Eliot (the dangerous one) and J.J. We drove everywhere: Venice beach, Sunset Blvd., Hollywood Blvd., Amoeba Records, Beverly hills, and so much more. It was a great way to see as much of LA as possible in the short amount of time we had there.

Elliot goes to California

EMC — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 22:04:25 +0000

Waking up to a roommates alarm clock wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It was eight in the morning and I had only one day left in town, might as well get an early start, so I got myself dressed in some somewhat smelly clothes. I’ve gotten to the point in my trip where the majority of my clothes have been wore multiple times, and even the clothes I haven’t wore have dirtied themselves up in my backpack. Before I left I decided that this is when I would officially start having fun: smelly clothes, not enough time to do laundry (I could never sacrifice a couple precious hours of my last day in Seattle), hair that needs cutting, an all around exhausted being. Now I’m on the road… or tracks I guess. I was tired, yes, but Seattle is too amazing to waste a day sitting in the Hostel relaxing. So I wasted my time elsewhere. I walked across the street to the market and had the most delicious cinnamon roll of my life, oh, it was so good. I stepped out of the door of the cafe and into the heart the market, there was a delectable smell in the air: donuts. I tried to buy three (they were only about 2/3 the size of normal donuts), but they were only being sold by the half dozen. So I bought six, sat in a corner, and stuffed my face. Only grandma’s donuts compare to the quality of that pastry. After this I decided I was getting fat, time to burn off some calories I thought, so I took a walk around the block and back into the market. I went to the previously unexplored lower levels and wandered through all the nifty shops, and I hung out in the magic shop juggling for some time.

Admittedly the day was pretty laid back, but for the official record I’m going to blame it on the rain. I sat in Starbucks, went to the post office, did the Underground Tour, hung out in the Hostel, and finally went to an arcade at dark. I don’t have much to tell about the day.

The train to Los Angeles started off as a boring ride. I sat in the lounge car and didn’t notice anyone who I might like to hang out with for my long journey to LA, I did however notice the arcade below my car. After idle conversation with the lady sitting next to me died out I decided to venture down below. I went in and there was a guy playing guitar and singing in between the few old arcade games. I nodded, put my quarters in a machine, and started racing. I asked him where he was from while racing around New York. We got to talking and ended up having a lot in common. James is from north of Seattle, but has lived all over: Florida, Canada, Texas, Washington. With what sounded like a rough life back home he decided to pack up and head to San Francisco, leaving behind the ones he loves, looking for a new life. He’s going to be playing guitar to eat he told me. We sat and talked for a couple hours in the observation car, played some cards, left the cards to play some video games back in the arcade car (the one button arcade game), and then played more cards. Other people started to join in and soon we we’re playing a game of euchre. I had a lot of fun and I met a bunch of people.

There was James, of course. We talked about everything from where we were going, what we were doing, where we’ve been, music, the state of the world. We had so much in common it was quite curious. “Are you very apathetic?” he asked me.

“Yeah, unfortunately” I said.

“It’s a curse, it really is.” he said, shaking his lowered head.

Then there was Martin, a cool guy from Germany who was in the middle of a nine month trip around the globe, Jessica, a very down to earth girl traveling around the west, and a man whose name escapes me. The mystery man was from Detroit, but was now traveling around the country looking for work. He was very kind hearted and very wacky.

Jessica got off in Redding, James in San Francisco, and I went all the way LA. Yet we soon found out that we’d all be in San Francisco on Saturday. A funny coincidence indeed. Maybe we’ll run into each other again.

The rest of the day on the train alone went pretty well. I hung out and read for a long time. I eventually started talking to a man Charlie, who was traveling from Indiana to San Diego all the way by train. He left on Sunday and was still on his way (it was Wednesday). We talked about the train and how everyone is on it for some sort of adventure. He decided it would be a fun way to travel across the US and decided to take the long way to San Diego just for the fun of it (and the view).

Now I’m in Claremont, California, just outside of LA. I’m staying in my friend Zima’s dorm room. He’s borrowing his Aunt’s Mustang convertible and we’re going to be going all around LA in it. I can’t wait.

I Made it to the West

EMC — Mon, 09 Nov 2009 17:18:17 +0000

The train to Seattle took off just on time, and I found it to be a perfect opportunity to get some well needed rest. This, however, was my first experience attempting to sleep aboard the train. I was dressed comfortably, I was awfully tired, and I settled into my seat with the mind state that wonderful, sound sleep would soon take me away as I zoomed off into the west. How sadly mistaken I was. As soon as I discovered a position that I found to be somewhat comfortable and as soon as my eyes started to close I would realize that I wasn’t comfortable at all. Toss, turn, sit, curl, no matter what I did sleep would not happen. Oh, how cruel those seats were. This went on for over an hour until I finally gave up.

When I was in Lake Forrest, Phil put some movies onto my computer for me to watch on the ride, so out came the computer. I made a point to shoot him a text message, thanking him. After the movie ended I searched for the perfect position to sleep in, needless to say, I’m pretty sure it does not exist. But, alas, sleep eventually came, and I’d wager that I got at least five good hours of light, heavily interrupted sleep.

As the sun rose, and I rose with it, we were about half way into North Dakota; a long journey was still ahead.

I made my way into the dining car and had breakfast with two ladies, a mother and her daughter from Seattle. The mother was visiting Minneapolis to reunite with an old friend who she hadn’t see in years, a very sweet story. I told them about the adventure I was embarking upon and gave them my blog address. We talked about Seattle for a while and then parted ways across the train.

The rest of my day consisted of reading, relaxing, not blogging, listening to music, taking pictures, and occasionally conversing with Derek. Derek packed a large duffle bag, skateboard attached, and flew to New York one day, deciding that he wanted to live there. New York, however, is a crazy city, clearly not for everyone, and defiantly not for him. He was taking the Amtrak back to the West coast, and just so happened to be on my last two trains. That night, smoother sleep occurred. For a while I even thought I found the perfect position, but I’m still pretty sure that doesn’t exist.

I woke up around 7 AM to a completely black outside, which I found puzzling. I checked to make sure my phone was set for the correct time zone and I starred out the window, looking for some sign of light. Suddenly, a bright flash hit me: bright, white, snowy mountains! My jaw dropped. I wish I could’ve seen my face, because I’m sure my expression was priceless. I quickly reached for my camera and snapped away. The train arrived that morning and I said goodbye to Derek, he wished me good luck and encouraged me to go see a show in Seattle tonight.

I got off the train. There I was, everything I own in a 2000 mile radius on my back in a brand new city. A familiar rush hit me, the same rush I got when I got off my last two trains. A pure sense of freedom. I could go anywhere, do anything, be whoever I wanted to be, but before I went all crazy I had to get this load off my back. I walked down to the water front and followed the waves to Pike Street, where my Blackberry told me my hostel was, and where there was supposed to be a huge market place. There was no hostel there, and certainly no giant market. I called the Green Tortoise, where I’m staying, and she told me to look for the steps “take them up to First Ave.” she said. Steps to a street? Uh oh. That would explain why the hike here wasn’t uphill like it was supposed to be. Off I went though, up many flights of steps until I was well tired, and then there were some more. I made it to the top of the “Hill Climb” and saw my hostel across the street, where I proceeded to enter. I checked in and the girl behind the counter asked me what brought me to Seattle. “7 cities in 21 days,” I informed her “by the Amtrak train.”

“By yourself?” I nodded. “Wow, that’s pretty ambitious for 18.” she replied

“Yeah, I get that a lot.” She showed me to my bunk. I locked up my stuff, got my shoulder bag on, and embarked upon a new adventure in a new city.

First stop, right across the street was the Pike Place Market. I got some food, wandered around, and took lots of pictures.

They like to throw fish in the market...

Then I went down to the Elliott Bay Book Co. With a name like that, how could I resist?

Next I walked back towards the Hostel, planning on visiting the Space Needle, but I passed the Seattle Art Museum on the way, so I decided to stop in. There was a Michelangelo exhibit on the top floor, obviously my first stop. He is such an amazing artist. When I walked out of that gallery there were blocks to build with at a table, an artist came every night and judged the customers creations. I’ve always been a sucker for blocks, so I stuck around there and built for a good while, yet not staying long enough for the artist to arrive. It was now time to make the trek to the Space Needle. It was a bit of a walk, but nothing too rough. I paid for my outrageously expensive ticket and went to the top. A guy I was talking to on the wait for the elevator asked me to take his picture for him at the top. I told him about my travels and took his picture with my camera also. I said I’d put it up here for him.

A dedication to the East... my heart is 3000 miles in that direction

I made my way back to the Hostel where free dinner was served at six and I talked with a nice lady from Australia who was traveling the country alone. Actually, almost everyone in the hostel was traveling around the country by themselves. I decided I was doing this again.

After dinner I went to a Rufus Wainwright show down the street. He can really play the piano, and then there’s his voice. A wonderful show. I went back to the Hostel, started this entry, and fell fast asleep in a bed I was much looking forwards to using.

Minneapolis -> Seattle

EMC — Sat, 07 Nov 2009 22:13:13 +0000

Friday was a very relaxed day for me. After sleeping in I rode Lisa’s bike to Bryant-Lake Bowl where my cousin was a bartender for four years. I sat at the bar and ate breakfast while occasionally talking to the man behind the counter. I then went back to Muddy Waters and sat outside watching the world go by, drinking coffee, and taking pictures. After that I just rode back to Lisa’s, stopping and taking pictures every once and a while. I got back, uploaded pictures, and took a nap, waiting for my 11:15 train to take me to Seattle. I finally had the chance to actually talk with Lisa Friday night, when I got back, and when she very thoughtfully gave me a ride to the Amtrak station. Lisa graduated from Maumee Valley in 1991, and has lived in Minneapolis for 13 years. We got to the station, I hugged her goodbye, thanking her for all her help, and I walked up to the train. Two cities down, five to go.

The first thing I noticed when I got on the train was the two electrical plugs next to every window. I thanked the Lord and took a seat, seat 17 to be exact. The next thing I noticed, however, was the lady a few rows behind me sleeping in the middle of the aisle. Objective: get water. Obstacle: lady sleeping in the middle of the aisle. She was so large, and I have been mistaken for being 15 three times since I left. I approached the sleeping beast, carefully scoping out the situation. A man steps out of the observation car and simply steps over her, hardly paying any mind to the ridiculous situation at hand. I notioned that she must have been there for a while. I took a deep breath and stepped over my obstacle, water was important, and the snack car was closing in mere minutes. I walked back through, water in hand and stepped over her a little more confidently the second time. More people start filing into the train and we exchange funny glances, “are you serious?” their faces say. The train attendants eventually see the lady, and many people gather around her trying to wake her from her slumber. She’s not getting up. I suddenly start to feel bad. I have been laughing at this situation for some time, what if she was unconscious? “Mam, are we going to have to call the authorities?” one of them says. “I don’t know whether to call the police or the ambulance.” another replies.

A guy steps up to my car who I recognized from my train to Minneapolis. He stops at the top of the stairs, staring at the lady. “Can I help you?” the conductor says to him in a nasty tone. “Can I help you?!” he replies, pointing at the crazy sight of the passed out lady they’re all gathered round. He puts his stuff down and steps outside. I soon followed him, not wanting to be near the now potentially dead body I just confidently stepped over. Life is just full of surprises. An ambulance arrives on the scene and she soon comes walking out of the car, very sleepy eyed. I start talking with the guy on my last train, Derek, about the ridiculousness of the situation. I told him about my trip. The ambulance took off, and the train was just getting ready to leave, right on schedule. I said I’d talk to him tomorrow, it was time for some shut eye… yeah right.

A Bike? Yes, Please

EMC — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 02:36:46 +0000

I woke up to Lisa knocking on my door, “I’m going to work,” she said “but I left a note for you on the table in the kitchen.” I thanked her again for the place to sleep and lied in bed, mentally preparing myself for the day. I got myself up and read the note. She had offered me her bike for the day, how could I refuse? I got myself bundled up for the cold Minneapolis weather, got the bike out of the basement, turned down the thermostat, stepped outside, and locked up her house. Off I went into the city. My first stop was Lake Harriet, I sat by the shore watching people and photographing the scenery. Then I was off just a quick ride north to Lake Calhoun. I sat by the shore again, just relaxing and enjoying the scenery.

My favorite rapper, Slug, is from Minneapolis, and every once in a while he mentions Muddy Waters in his songs, a coffee shop. So I found directions to the famed coffee shop (at least famed in my head) and I took off from Lake Calhoun to see what separates Muddy Waters from the Bearners down the street back in Sylvania. I decided to take the long route around Lake Calhoun to enjoy the scenery. Lake Street, past Hennepin, made a left on Lyndale and rode eight blocks north.

I finally reached the corner of Lyndale and 24^th to see the one place I’ve actually planned on going to my entire trip. I’m here now. I love it. I may never leave. Why don’t we have a Muddy Waters Caffeine Canteen in Sylvania? Walking in the first thing I notice is a giant sign saying “COFFEE HOUSE” on the back wall, the kind of sign that is supposed to be on a building. The lady working the counter was extremely nice, I ordered a hot roast beef sandwich and a chai tea. The atmosphere was wonderful and there were a wide range of characters inside, most of which seemed to be friends with the lady behind the counter. I finished up my last post inside there and proceeded to go down the street to Fifth Element Records. They were playing the new Felt 3 CD inside which is yet to be released, very good stuff. After that it was already getting late so I decided to head back on the long trek to Lisa’s. It was a long ride back, a very good workout. I’m lucky I left when I did, because the sun was already set by the time I got back.

Train to a New… Atmosphere

EMC — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 17:31:12 +0000

The train to Minneapolis sat in the station while I sat in it, an hour late for departure. Electrical failure on the train, couldn’t take off until it was fixed. The conductor came in over the speaker “Power is down” he said in a near monotone voice “so we ask that you don’t use the restrooms at this time, as they don’t work… unless, you know, you have to, then… whatever.” I chuckled at the announcement and how unofficial the man sounded. I sat, thought, looked out the window, and finished my last post. The train still hadn’t budged. Alas, an hour after scheduled departure we set off towards Minneapolis. I nervously made a dining car reservation after we took off, remembering how Roger said that you eat at a table with random strangers. But my stomach was rumbling and I knew I had to start talking to more people, I’ve been too nervous to strike up a conversation with a stranger too many times now. So I made my 5:30 reservation and nervously awaited my dinner.

The dull scenery of the midwest...

Although I was nervous, I had an admittedly good time at dinner last night. I was sat down with three grandparents. One told me to call her La Abuela (spanish for “The Grandma), and if I was remotely good with names maybe I would remember the other two. The man sitting across from me was doing a similar trip to mine with his wife, but it sounded like they weren’t stopping in the cities as much as I am. He said he used to work for Xerox as an engineer and that for two years of his life he was in charge of every single computer at the Pentagon in Washington DC. The lady sitting next to him was a Librarian, and she said she used to work in a school kind of like Maumee Valley. La Abuela, sitting next to me, left the biggest impression on me. As soon as I told my dinner partners about my trip, what I’m doing, she immediately insisted on buying me dinner. I tried to refuse at first, but she seemed intent on it, and I’m on a bit of a budget, so I accepted her money (as in she put it under my salad bowl haha!). She told our table all about her theories on education, most of which had many parallels to MV. She kept saying that children now a days are smarter than their parents, and she talked about the book she is in the process of writing called “Teachers Gonna Let Me Think” after something her grandson said to her. After a fun dinner we said goodbye and parted ways across the train. I proceeded to sleep for most of the rest of the ride.

The train finally arrived, about an hour or so late, and I loaded my luggage up on my back and set off the the first taxi in sight, a green and white cab. I opened the door and he immediately turns around and asks me in a raised tone “Where you going?!”

“France Avenue South” I replied

He looked puzzled, “Where?!” he shouts back.

“Umm… France Avenue South” I repeated

“Okay, okay,” he says “get in, get in.” So I got into the cab and off we drove into a city completely foreign to me, and apparently foreign to the driver as well. He asks me a few more times where I’m going and I continue to give him the same address over and over. “27?” he asks.

“47!” I was near yelling, how many times did I have to say it? He got on his phone and talked in some foreign language to who I presume was the cab company, asking for directions. He looks over his shoulder real quick, “27?” he was whispering.

“No, 47!” I shot back. I felt bad raising my voice, but how often do you run into a cab driver who doesn’t know where he’s going? We finaly made it to France Ave S, but when he goes to turn onto it from Lake St there is a dead end.

“Here?” he asks me, I can tell he just wants this fare to be over with.

“No I’m pretty sure this isn’t it.” I say. So we park for some minutes, asking people walking by for directions, none of them can help. One man gives me a look that says “I’m so sorry you got the worst cabbie in the city, welcome to Minneapolis, good luck.” Eventually his phone rings, its the cab company, and he starts driving immediately. They get him some proper directions and off we go in the right way, back onto a different France Avenue I guess. We pass 46^th street and he immediately stops the car.

“Here?” he asks.

“47!” I yell, I’m about ready to get out of this cab and start walking, but we go a bit of a ways more and I finally arrive at Lisa’s house. I pay him his barely deserved fare, get out of the cab, and walk up to her very nice home. She showed me my room, and I immediately fell asleep.