June 27th; An early today. Wake up call from Pum is at four thirty. ‘Wake up four thirty. In the lobby five o’clock. We leave five fifteen!’ Repeat that ten times.
First stop was Thousand Islands. In the tradition of the Hundred Years War and other such things, there are in fact just under two thousand islands. Seventeen hundred or thereabouts. It was a fairly long bus trip there, filled with fitful and unlasting sleep. Bus seats are better than planes, but still not great. The day they invent soft windows is the day I can sleep well on a bus. Having an armrest, window sill and curtain rod poking into various parts of your upper half never helps. Neither does Pum yelling. I still think he’s a big cuddly bear though.
It was misty on the lake or river or small sea or whatever Thousand Islands actually is. At first I didn’t know where it was. Bus tours make me complacent. Anyway, we jumped on another cruisey boat. Basically we rushed between these little islands with huge houses on them, all of which were owned by wealthy people. Some were man made. Some had castles, some had sheds. They all looked nice in the mist of the morning. Most things do. It was almost like a pleasant version of Waterworld… so I guess it was nothing like Waterworld. Has anyone else noticed how many post-apocalyptic movies Kevin Costner has been in? He’s as bad as being type-cast as that sort of hero as Diane Lane is as the late forties divorcee.
Thousand Islands was cool, but nothing mind blowing. Back on the bus. Now for the final six hour run back to New York. I got some more sleep, watched some movie, the sort of thing you do on a bus when you have nothing to do on a bus. After a long ride we finally made it to Manhattan… or did we? No, we got stuck in intense traffic for at least an hour longer. Dropped off in Chinatown. We started to walk to meet Natasha. She was taking protective custody of Kate for a night or two, lest she kill any of us boys. We met her, let her take whisk Kate off somewhere and set off…
…Set off where? You see, since I’d become so complacent and the internet was doing the night before, we had nowhere booked to stay! It was sometime after nine by now. We decided the best course of action was to throw a homeless party, which is a bit like a yelling party except you are homeless instead. It was a kind of exhilarating feeling. I’m sure it wouldn’t be the same were you an actual homeless person, don’t get me wrong. We covered a fair bit of town, didn’t find any, rang our Irish friends Mark and Ian to get directions to their hostel, made it to that side of town, asked at reception, they were full, we got a sheet with other numbers on it, rang a few places, had no luck at a few places. I ended up calling a hotel across the road from our last hostel, on the principle that the area wasn’t bad, we just had a shit hostel.
They had an opening, but not in the dorms. We ended up getting a discounted deluxe room, which between the four of us ended up being only a little more than a normal room anyway. It wasn’t bad. Bit worn out, bit smoke-stained, but livable. We set up camp and went out to find some dinner. We were lazy. It was Subway. Tonight was fun, in it’s own way. Made me feel like more a backpacker. As it is, backpacking is a very minor part of the equation. I guess walking around with a huge pack on your back and no place to stay gives you that feeling – the feeling that your whole life is on your back.
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