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Published: September 18th 2006
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Lara and I shared a cab down to the bus station where there were still a few bums loitering about but they don’t seem as harmless during the day as they do in the night time. There are a few people coming in off other buses and the terminal slowly fills up. Even though Lara is only going a few hours west to Memphis, she has to battle for a seat on a bus heading all the way to Dallas, TX. By looking at some of the baggage left around the terminal, there are some that will make the big trip. My trip today will only take about 7 hours as we head from Dixie Country to the outskirts of the Midwest.
The bus heads north through Kentucky, a slice of Indianapolis before heading straight into Illinois and on the road to St Louis. One thing irked me about coming into Illinois and that was the lack of ceremony or greeting to say that I did enter the Prairie State. And before you counter with a “you probably missed it”, I have been sitting by the window of the Greyhound bus with my eyes glued outside and I haven’t seen a thing. I actually get disillusioned with looking outside now and I decide to update my diary a bit more, all the way to St Louis.
I arrive in St Louis just after 6.30pm and collect my bags, only after waiting for the boxes of frozen meat to be unpacked. That’s right readers, there were boxes of frozen meat that were packed in Evansville, IN and now they’re being hand unloaded here. It makes me wonder who is requesting this meat and whether the bus is even certified to carry frozen meat! Nonetheless, I hustle off for a taxi down to Soulard, a suburb of St Louis to where my hostel is. I shouldn’t take too long because I don’t like going anywhere by myself after dark, especially after what nearly happened in Nashville.
Rebecca is the caretaker and she immediately confirms my fear of the crime-ridden streets of St Louis. If I walk across the road and under the freeway, I will be lucky just to be robbed. There are no maps on hand at the moment but she gives me a hand-drawn map of the surrounding areas as well as a few recommendations. That’s not bad for a bit of local knowledge!
I settle in and take a quick shower before ringing Lottie to inform her of my progress on the trip. The Verizon free minutes are really helpful and it’s good to talk to someone when you’re travelling by yourself. I can only see two other backpacks in the dorm and they are in the back room, while I’ll be sleeping by myself in the front room, facing the street that leads out to the bad, unknown, crime-ridden, lucky-if-I-get-robbed part of St Louis. I decide to do a bit of reading from my Lonely Planet when an older American guy comes in. His name is Mike and he is from Milwaukee. He is cruising around, following the Lewis and Clark Expedition Trail all the way to the upper mountains. I actually thought he was a mad Superman fan, looking for the birthplace of Clark Kent somewhere in Kansas, before I was politely informed about the real Lewis and Clark and their expedition tracing the Missouri River.
“Listen, do you want to go for a beer, we can talk heaps more about American History while the game is on?” Mike asked.
“Sure - just as long as we don’t get robbed going there”
We did have to cross the street to get to the bar but once we were in there it was a warm and cosy place. The game that Mike was referring to was the baseball; the St Louis Cardinals travelled all the way to Milwaukee to take on Mike’s beloved Brewers. Mike sensed the irony of him being in St Louis while the local baseball team was back in his hometown, but he didn’t mind it when the Brewers won. The pub owner promptly changed the channel and we chatted for a bit longer about the Continental Divide and other random geographical topics, before he decided to call it a night.
I stayed at the pub and I had finally decided that Miller Lite was my favourite American Mainstream Beer. Sure, I’d love to have a Widmer’s Hefeweizen right now (note - that also includes right now as I type this, Sat 27 Jan, 2007!) but I’ll have to settle for Miller’s product. Another thing that has confused me is that when the beer companies call their beers ‘light’, they aren’t referring to the alcoholic content but the calories that it has, capturing the health conscious market. I stay at the bar and talk to Henry (the man behind the bar) as well as the cook from the kitchen. The cook is a working, living example of how one can beat the booze. He used to live in Kansas City (our next stop) and indulged in all sorts of drugs and booze there for over 20 years. Not too long ago, he cleaned up his act and moved east to St Louis and hasn’t looked back. He installs optimism ahead of my visit to KC, but I still have over a day left here in St Louis.
As I leave the bar, there’s a couple down the street arguing over who should be the designated driver. If they had as much fear as I did on these streets, they wouldn’t be arguing at all…
Miles
Nashville - St Louis: 366 miles
American Miles: 4058 miles
Total Miles: 11478 miles
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