I awoke on the bus the next morning to find myself in Evanston, Wyoming...440 miles from Denver! The bus drivers needed to sleep for the day, so everyone else had the day to relax.
Later that evening, I got a call from Gravy! He was in town on tour with Young the Giant and I took the subway up to meet up with him and hang out on the back of the bus, just like old times! Good to see ya, buddy! Happy February 2014!
The bus from Dangriga to Belmopan was packed! I stood in the crammed in the aisle leaning on a sea of strangers for a bumpy two hours! The bus cleared out a bit after Belmopan and finally got a seat. I ended up sitting next to a guy around my age who sounded like an American. He told me he was Honduran, but had lived in Texas for years until he was found, put in some kind of crazy immigration detention center for years, and then finally deported. He was on his way to San Pedro island to meet up with his two younger brothers who he hadn't seen in 16 years! I wished him well and got off...
I was on the bus after the show when the band all climbed around shouting with excitement. Jon explained that a one of their long-time fans had just given them a bag of presents and they were all giddy to find out what they'd each gotten.
I got off the bus to discover that it had left the parking lot we'd been parked in and relocated to the venue. Had to fire up my phone to figure out...
The band had the next day in Charlotte off and Matt had to leave to play another gig so he told me I could have his bunk for the night. I slept like a baby.
...and sitting around with this guy having late-night talks about life. (Later in night, while I was sound asleep, the bus driver had to brake quickly and it caused the fruit basket Jon is resting his arm on to fall upon my head!)
...falling asleep to some double-feature DVD (Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure AND Bogus Journey on one disc! No Barchester Chronicles, unfortunately).
...and then boarded the bus a little before midnight. After we hit the road headed for Baltimore, I surveyed my home for the next week. All of the bunks on both buses were full, so I was crashing on the couch in the front lounge. Which meant that most of my evenings were spent...
The next morning, I woke up confused and disoriented on the lounge couch. After getting my bearings, I realized that we were parked right behind Fenway park in the midst of a baseball game.
...make a new travel buddy! Like this sleepy little abuela who spent most of the bus ride bouncing her tiny snoozing noggin against my shoulder. Haha. Adorable.
The bus ride from Whistler to Vancouver is so beautiful. You drive by miles and miles of what I thought were "lakes and mountains." Grant just emailed me to tell me that I was impressed by the Howe Sound. The sound is a "network of fjords; "long, narrow inlets with steep sides or cliffs, created in a valley carved by glacial activity."
I got my coat a little before 1am and was horrified to find Meredith's wallet, keys and phone in my coat pocket. No cabs to be found so I hopped on the 14th Street crosstown bus that rolled up. 90% of the time I find myself on a NYC MTA bus...
Emanuel stepping off the bus and tying on the sea-foam green bandana that signifies the kickoff of his ritualistic paintball preparation proceedures! I'm actually just making that up. The truth is, he actually wears that bandana every day! Ha!
This time around I decided that rather than trying to fight the current so insistent on taking me on a private camel-back tour of the pyramids, that I'd openly embrace it and proactively try to seek out the best private tour company I could find. I ended up striking up a conversation with the guy in front of me in the plaid shirt - and since any local worth his salt in the area is basically an amateur tour guide ready to take you to any number of good places in exchange for some sort of "finder's fee."
After getting off the subway, I decided to forego a taxi (and all the hassle of a driver not taking you to where you ask to be taken) and instead hopped on a local bus that looked like it would get me really close to the pyramids.
I know I mentioned this in an earlier post when I tried to go visit the Giza pyramids the first time, but it bears repeating: I always thought that the pyramids were in the middle of a desert miles away from modern life, but they are literary right on the edge of a densely populated, totally modern suburb of Cairo. One minute, you're sitting on the bus passing strip malls and fast food chains and then suddenly, out of nowhere you're like...
The nine hour bus ride from Dahab to Cairo was loud, bumpy and uneventful. It would've been a tough enough bus ride to endure if I was well rested, but it was particularly gruesome after not sleeping for over 24 hours and climbing up and down a mountain.
I heard all sorts of crazy stories about how Islamic Fundamentalists liked to hijack tourist buses headed to Hurghada from Luxor - but my hotel told me that they'd booked me on a "night bus" filled mostly with Egyptian nationals and that things would "probably be ok." Hahahah. Oooooo-kay!
