Anyhow anyway so I split

I'm in need of someone to take care of me tonight
As I walk into Dorian's, can you see it in my eyes?
My boots are on the mend and they ain't walking home
Street tar and summer do a job on your sole!

Welcome everyone, let's get started. Reflect for a moment's notice if you will on those four lines from the music that got me through this street trip, namely Spoon's album Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga. Now imagine me appearing in some foreign doorframe, 40 pounds on my back and uke in hand, singing these lyrics. Now, that'd be a night's accommodation, for sure. What charm and cleverness, you must be thinking. Unfortunately I never actually needed to go to the residence of anyone named Dorian. But, at the very least, he came and hung out in London, and we stayed with Veevs. And I suppose that brings me to the very end of my dealings and days of the road.

Revisiting London and Birmingham was admittedly disaster control. Yet no doubt it was reassuring to actually see a few of my new friends again after so much wonder of a continent forever lost. In Birmingham they like to drink beer and then RUN! through the streets (the ol' ale-and-run) so Rory, Adrian, and I did that and caught an arthouse film just in time. After Spain I desired salt and vinegar...five more days. I read enough about Dean Moriarty on the bus to London to put me in the mood to tear apart (modest parts of) London with Dorian. He decided to take random turns around Westminster and purposefully get lost so I followed him. We ended up in a posh neighborhood with high-end Renaults, BMWs, Citroëns, and Aston Martins lining the streets. I showed him Chinatown and Soho which are, as I noted almost two months ago, overcrowded by gorgeous girls in tight clothing that drove the two of us into discreet hysterics. We just walked around and watched; as Dorian said, "It's just too much to do anything." I guess where I'm going with all this is that we didn't get into any trouble. My grand stories were done and told. Three more days.

We saw a UFO in the park (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_ist9_j4TLQ ...which turned out to be a kite probably around 800 feet in the sky--I didn't know kites could do this!!!) and daytripped to Brighton (I hear it's lovely in the fall) with Veevs to feel the sun, see the water, and have a delicious vegan picnic. After Dorian's leave I walked the Tower Bridge a couple times, perused the dinosaurs at the History Museum and missed Sir Paul McCartney by only a couple hours, chatted up a Polish bartender and old Cockney man in a 17th century pub, and had a delicious Peruvian meal cooked by Veevs. I would only momentarily think things like, "You only have two more days in Europe, do all you can!!" before realizing the silliness of it all and just letting it happen. And then I caught a plane home.

I've thought about how to wrap up this journal and as you may have noticed, I'm at a bit of a loss for things to talk about. My reflection on the trip as a whole is proving difficult to put to words. Basically I set foot on American soil and felt like I owned the whole country. From my European mind thoughts of the United States were telescopic, viewed from impenetrable distance. When those 4,300 miles had finally passed it was like I'd been granted access to a new traveler's microscope. My eyes for America were opened and knew that they had been naked. It's not just the distance that gave me my new visions though, it takes a change in lifestyle and I urgently recommend such journeys to each and everyone who has so amazingly read along on the blawg.

A few falling actions from my Moleskine journal...

10 Things to Bring Back to America
1) Tapas on mini bagels (especially with Spanish potato omelettes)
2) Drying clothes on clotheslines
3) Turning off the AC and opening the windows
4) Walking
5) Toast with cream cheese and tomatoes
6) Teatime
7) Greeting with a kiss on each cheek
8) Fries with vinegar
9) Saying "cheers" for "thanks" and "bye"
10) My sanity

I was standin' at the sideroad, listenin' to the billboard knock
I was standin' at the sideroad, listenin' to the billboard knock
Well my wrist was empty but my nerves were kickin', tickin' like a clock...

cheers
x Arlen







keep movin on!