As it was day 30 of this trip and I was about to head to the airport, I decided against doing anything exotic and different but instead went to one of my favourite chains. I was pleased that staff member made such enthusiastic comments about my English accent and I privately agreed with the server’s suggestion that it was marvellous to hear someone speak English properly. Only privately though, I didn’t want to upset anyone else nearby by stating that she was correct.
I’ve written about Blaze Pizza before numerous times, not least earlier on this trip in Charlotte and in their original unit in Pasadena. It’s a simple concept, pick the base you want, the toppings and they make it in just a few minutes. Drinks, like they usually are in the United States, are refillable and cheap. Unusually, they also spelt my name correctly and that’s visible to the bottom right of the pizza.
I’ve just had a look at how the chain is getting on and things look bright, they’re signing up new franchisees at some pace and opening additional units across the country. I’m not really in the market to open a restaurant in the United States, but if I had to pick a franchise I suspect that this would be high up my list. Over 70% of their franchise holders operate multiple units which is usually a positive sign, they’re competent enough to be able to manage them in a professional way. My only negative comment is that they’re blocked Europeans from visiting their web-site for reasons unknown, perhaps forgetting that makes it impossible for anyone to order on-line if they’re roaming.
It also seems, if my visit was anything to measure matters by, that this unit was doing well with plenty of lunchtime customers eating in or taking their pizzas away. I can also confirm that Dr. Pepper complements a sausage, banana pepper, jalapeno, pepperoni and olive pizza perfectly.
I understand that this sculpture in Newark is by Tom Otterness. I’m not going to write anything further on that as the artist is hugely controversial for in the 1970s adopting a dog from a shelter, chaining it up and then shooting it dead to make a video which he thought would shock audiences. When questioned in 2007, he said:
“Thirty years ago when I was 25 years old, I made a film in which I shot a dog. It was an indefensible act that I am deeply sorry for. Many of us have experienced profound emotional turmoil and despair. Few have made the mistake I made. I hope people can find it in their hearts to forgive me”.
Whether hypocritical or not, I thought I’d rather limit my comments to the man rather than his art. Other than to add that if I was in Newark again, I’d walk down a different street to avoid this artwork so that I didn’t have to think of the artist.
I’ve been able to find out relatively little about this building on 55 University Avenue, other than it is now a meat packing warehouse. Indeed, I can establish more about the building from what is still on the front, namely it was the home of Ladder 2 of the Newark fire brigade and it was constructed in 1881.
There’s something of a story here which is wrapped up about what Newark has become. It’s a city which has had some traumatic recent times, although it felt as though it was in much better shape than when I visited a few years ago. But, back in 1881 there would have been optimism for the future and this would have been a functional and well designed building. Despite being relatively central in the city, the structure tells its own story of decline, a lack of care with the preservation of Newark’s past and it’s a tangible sign of that optimism having been lost at some point.
No attempt is being made to tell the story of this building, there’s no information panel and no cleaning of the frontage. Indeed, it’s perhaps fortunate that the structure even stands. So, this is the photograph that I think represents Newark, a once bright future which has slipped back, but there’s still hope of sorts for the next few decades. Determined as I am to finish writing about this US trip, this is my image from the city.
I’ve been to Newark before and after 24 hours on board a train, I wanted to get straight to my hotel so that I arrived before it got dark.
I’d booked using Priceline as it was cheaper than booking directly with Choice Hotels themselves, always a slightly ridiculous situation that they’re paying a third party. It transpired that I was charged twice, once by Priceline and once at the hotel despite them saying they were only taking the deposit. I queried this when back in the UK with Priceline who immediately phoned the hotel up, who then denied this could have happened. However, ten minutes later I got an alert from Chase saying that my account had been refunded, so the hotel made what I assume was an inadvertent error and at least corrected it without delay.
The room was on the ground floor which I don’t usually like as it can be noisy, but I didn’t have any issues during the stay. I had a desk, a sofa and plenty of space, it was a bit more expensive but it was comfortable and it was my last night in the United States on this trip. I always feel the need to sit on a sofa in a hotel room, well as long as it doesn’t look like it’s been lifted out of a skip, just to get use out of it. However, I read a book for about five minutes on the sofa and then return to the desk chair or lying on the bed, but I feel better from getting value out of the furniture. I sometimes wonder just how sane I am, but there we go.
There was plenty of choice at the included breakfast, but as usual, little was to my taste and I remained unconvinced about American chain hotels and their options. The turkey sausages and eggs looked frightening, the waffle machine isn’t my sort of thing, but the cereals were sufficient along with a heap of cakes that I didn’t need. The orange juice is processed but tastes fine, although the coffee always tastes slightly odd. I was starting at this point to really be craving some proper breakfasts as might be served in Poland….. There we go, I have to mention Poland at least once every five posts.
I felt slightly guilty as the hard-working breakfast attendant asked if I liked their breakfast and I didn’t have the heart to say that some of it downright frightened me. I don’t know if they actually wanted feedback anyway, but they didn’t get any from me on the matter. That’s not least as judging from the reviews most of the guests seem to love their breakfast, my continental European tastes just aren’t quite in tune here. The rest of American cuisine is bang on target with me to be fair, so that’s not a sneering reference in general to the food in the United States.
I left the hotel refreshed and planning to spend a few hours in Newark before catching a bus to the airport and then leaving the United States to return back to the UK. That meant that unless anything went wrong, I wouldn’t be spending any more nights in the United States on this trip. And as an unexciting spoiler, I can confirm that nothing did go wrong.
I’d had just under 24 hours in Birmingham and I have to note that I got the impression that the Magic City felt troubled. It’s been depopulating for decades and the urban core feels quite hollowed out. Property prices are startling low, the homeless population seemed substantial and I didn’t get the impression that they got large numbers of tourists visiting the city. There were inevitable high points such as the Birmingham Museum of Art, but parts of the city felt on edge. I had visited to get an understanding of the civil rights history of the city, which was told well with information panels in the centre and I learned a lot. However, that was nearly the entire story that Birmingham seemed to be telling, as if it is still struggling for a new identity.
With that visit completed, I was going from Birmingham to Newark, which is a journey that is I suppose possible in the UK. It would though be a much quicker rail trip, the one that I was about to undertake in the United States was going to take 24 hours and 30 minutes. In coach.
The Amtrak station doesn’t open until two hours before the train departs, which is something hard to imagine in a European rail station. A security guard bounded up to me when I entered and asked what I was doing, which is again something hard to imagine at Norwich railway station. I replied that I was getting an Amtrak train and so he pointed towards the ticket counter, which I acknowledged but ignored as I already had a ticket. He seemed surprised that I had a ticket, despite that clearly being what most travellers have. It’s really not the welcome that any public transport facility should have, but it’s going back to that troubled city status I mentioned. The staff here are on edge and they’re trying to stop people coming in who might want to harm them. Just as with the bus station, they threw several people out whilst I was waiting, something dramatic has to change in Birmingham for this to stop happening.
The staff weren’t actually unfriendly and one came over to me and asked if I happened to have a cable for a phone that another passenger on the Greyhound service needed urgently. He said he understood that I wasn’t local and so it was unlikely, but by good fortune I did have the cable he needed. There were three security staff and so it was hard not to feel safe inside the Amtrak station and I felt that I did my civic duty and duly received the cable back just before I needed to depart for my train.
Then it was announced that the train would be boarding in five minutes so the doors were unlocked and we were finally allowed to go to the platforms. It felt like a hospital.
I wouldn’t have minded a sleeper service, which I’ve never gone on in the United States, only in Ukraine.
A few decades ago platforms in railway stations across the United States would have been bustling and busy. It seemed like those days were long ago, but the services are still running and passengers are still coming, but there’s a lot of work to do in the United States to improve the rail network. There are areas of the country where it does well, not least on the east coast connecting large cities together, but the coverage nationwide is poor. High speed rail services in the United States really aren’t a thing, getting planes for domestic journeys is how that’s done.
I could hear the train coming before I could see it, as they’re not subtle things, and I got my usual childlike sense of excitement that I get when Amtrak trains come charging into the station.
And here’s the beautiful lump of metal. I do adore these things.
I was at the back of the queue to board as I had been faffing about with taking photos, but it wasn’t a particularly long queue and why rush when you’ve got 24 hours on the train?
This was to be my seat for over 24 hours, or at least, the one I’m sitting in when taking the photo. The guard was nonplussed with my long journey to Newark, there were many doing similar trips including those going a little further into New York.
Laptop attached to the power, connected to the wi-fi and I was good to go. The train was the Crescent, a 2,216 kilometre (1,377 mile) long rail service which goes from New Orleans to New York and it has been in operation in some form since 1891.There are 33 stops along the route and for anyone taking the service for its full length, it takes just under 32 hours end to end.
I had acquired a two litre bottle of Fanta from Publix, I thought that I’d need it to stay hydrated.
It’s not the best photo that I’ve taken of the buffet car, but there were seats here for those wanting to dine whether that be snacks or full service meals.
The prices on board, which weren’t unreasonable.
Who needs a full service meal anyway? Doritos, coke and noodles, the food of champion long distance rail passengers. The noodles are $2.50, so around £2, it’s an affordable hot option.
There’s something a little charming about returning to a location from earlier on in the trip and that was the case here in Charlotte, North Carolina. I’d got the train here a few weeks earlier on during my US trip and this was when I started to feel that the trip was coming to an end and I was coming home. It was also where I got someone sitting next to me for the first time as the train filled up, but he was marvellous company, polite and he didn’t cause me any disturbance. He was going to New York, so his journey was hardly a quick jump either.
I spent nearly the entire trip either dozing off, working on my laptop or staring out of the window. To be fair, there’s not much else to do, but I was certainly well rested by the end of it. There’s no rush when you’ve got 24 hours, everything is leisurely and I was surprised just how quickly the time went by. It also feels like an adventure, albeit a passive one where I didn’t have to do much, although there’s a lot to be said for those.
Arriving into Greensboro in North Carolina as dawn breaks. A little earlier there was some excitement on the train, which I videoed and might well upload at some point, when the police boarded the train. A male passenger had been accused of exposing himself to a female passenger (I’d better add here that I didn’t video that bit, not least as I was asleep when this whole incident started to kick off) and the Amtrak conductor was there saying he wanted the police to remove him. The passenger was keen to explain his rights and say he wasn’t leaving. The police said they weren’t taking any further action, but he was being removed from the train as that was the law when Amtrak staff made that decision. This went on for a few minutes before the guy gave up, protesting his innocence. He made a good point that what was he supposed to do in the middle of the night at a railway station in what was in relatively the middle of nowhere. The police said they didn’t mind what he did, which isn’t quite what he was asking. Worn out with all this unexpected excitement, I went to sleep again after he had been booted off.
If you travel across the United States you see a lot of trees, water, fields and settlements seemingly miles from anywhere. It’s not as barren as when I’ve travelled in more westerly parts of the United States, but it’s glorious to travel by small towns with their nineteenth century buildings and streets that look remarkably unaltered.
This looks oddly cramped, but it wasn’t, there is more than enough space to lie back and be nowhere near the seat in front.
This is Washington DC where they have to do technical things to the train (the line is only electrified between Washington DC and New York), so passengers can have twenty minutes to wander around. I didn’t intend going off to investigate things on the concourse as we were told we could, and being naturally cautious this is as far from the train as I deemed it safe to go, just in case it rushed off without me.
I’ve been to Baltimore a few times, I’d like to go back and I always slightly regret going through a city that I don’t get the chance to visit properly.
Philadelphia is another city I’d like to visit again, but it was so near, but yet so far.
This time though, that’s pretty much all that I was going to see of the city.
Some very American messaging there, diets don’t work….
And that’s that, I arrived into Newark as timetabled, 24 hours and 30 minutes after setting off from Birmingham. The journey cost me around £90 which isn’t cheap, but I felt it was very reasonable given the huge distance covered. The time had melted away, I was refreshed and felt that the seat was sufficient and I hadn’t needed a sleeper carriage. Obviously the sleeper carriage and full service meals would have been a different and more decadent experience. But, it’s not authentic to me, like being in a car it’s just shutting off from the real people and the exciting events that happen. I accept that watching a man be arrested for exposing himself isn’t really a fine example of that, but I very much liked the conversations, the excitement and the experiences.
This was my final expedition on Amtrak on this trip, but I hope to be back in 2024 as I want to be back there on another rail service. I have fond memories of this rail journey, it felt like I suspect a cruise would if I had experienced one. It’s watching the world go by whilst being comfortable, relaxed and productive in terms of work. I read books on my phone, listed to podcasts and was just a little bit jealous at every stop when passengers got off at towns and cities that I wouldn’t get chance to on this journey. The staff on board were relentlessly friendly, visible and it felt a safe environment. Well, other than the dodgy man who was arrested. But everything else was magical and just as I hoped it would be.
This is the former Greyhound bus terminal in Birmingham, no longer in operation as in 2017 they moved to the intermodal facility by the railway station. It was recently taken over by a developer who purchased it for just over $2 million and will be letting the building out for office space but he’s also making efforts to maintain the heritage. I’ve seen photos of this building before from when it was in use as the city’s main coach station, not least because of its important part in the civil rights story of Birmingham and I think it’s the first old style Greyhound construction that I’ve seen.
Following delays caused by the Second World War, the new bus terminal was finally constructed in 1950 and its an iconic structure which is very much part of the Greyhound design and I’m pleased that its look has been kept as part of the new development. There are some photos of the inside of the building taken by the local newspaper which show what is being kept, as well as some of the old Greyhound memorabilia that was still inside. They’ve even converted two old Greyhound buses and parked them out the back to use as office space and this would be a marvellous building to rent given its size and status.
But it’s not just the structure of the building that is important here, it’s the story of what happened here in 1961 which makes it so notable. The Freedom Riders, which had black and white passengers, set off from Washington DC to New Orleans on Greyhound and Trailways services to try and use segregated facilities as a protest against this divisive policy. Unfortunately, as expected, there was trouble in Alabama. The Greyhound bus was torched at Anniston and the Trailways bus was attacked when it reached at their bus terminal in Birmingham. Bull Connor, the racist so-called city Public Safety Commissioner, ordered the police to do nothing for 15 minutes.
This Greyhound bus station became part of the story as it was becoming apparent that the fear and terror directed towards drivers and the coaches meant that the Freedom Riders might not be able to continue. Volunteers came to the Greyhound station to the fury of Bull Connor who ordered police to arrest them. One of the 13 Freedom Riders on this trip was John Lewis, who died in 2020 after a long career in politics, and was one of the most important figures in the civil rights movement who was arrested at this Greyhound station. Lewis later said about the trip:
“We were determined not to let any act of violence keep us from our goal. We knew our lives could be threatened, but we had made up our minds not to turn back”.
The problems continued in Montgomery, Alabama and the former Greyhound bus station there is now the Freedom Rides Museum. Later that year, in November 1961, following immense political pressure there was confirmation from the courts that there shouldn’t be segregation on facilities provided at inter-state coach services. The Freedom Riders had been essential in forcing the southern states to comply, although it’s evident they did so with minimal willingness in very many cases. Their bravery is immensely impressive, they weren’t just faced with the KKK and their supporters attacking them, they also had to defend themselves whilst the police stood by.
I was standing outside the building on a warm day in October with the sun shining and everything feeling peaceful. The former bus terminal is located opposite City Hall and it’s hard to imagine the sheer terror that must have been felt by the Freedom Riders and to truly understand the ridiculous indignation of Bull Connor. But they were certainly socially different times and many in Alabama were fighting hard to try and maintain segregation, annoyed that national politicians were telling them to act against what they believed in. Connor was also supported by John M. Patterson, the Governor of Alabama, who was one of the leading proponents of segregation, although moved away from it later on in his political career and who only died in 2021. Yet against all that, the Freedom Riders still persisted, so very brave.
This was one of the disappointing elements of my trip and it’s the Birmingham Civil Rights Institute. I very much enjoyed visiting the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis a few years ago and its tone, which seemed pitch perfect to me, part of my pilgrimage to the places that were key to the life of Martin Luther King. A few days before I was planning to visit this museum I checked their web-site to ensure that they didn’t need prior booking, but to my disappointment they had decided to ban bags and told visitors to leave them in their car.
I’m not entirely sure that any museum should just be assuming that everyone has a car, that’s really unfortunate language to be using that I’ve never seen before in any of the hundreds of web-sites I’ve checked before visiting other locations. But, that wasn’t really my concern and I have no desire to be critical of them, but the problem was that the museum weren’t accepting bags and I had one. Not a huge bag, but larger than what was allowed. There was nowhere obvious for me to leave my bag, the Amtrak station didn’t open until two hours before the train and I don’t think they had lockers anyway, I didn’t have a car and I didn’t have a hotel room in the city. Slightly disappointed, I just didn’t go, despite it being one of the museums I was deliberately planning to go to on my trip.
I’ll add though, in fairness to the museum, their web-site looks a little dated and I think their policy was perhaps updated quite quickly during the pandemic, so some of the text was likely making reference to that. I don’t know what their funding situation is like, but I imagine a new web-site project would be expensive and it’s difficult to ensure that everything is up-to-date in the way that it should be.
The story isn’t bad though, I instead went to the Birmingham Museum of Art which is a short walk away and I merrily spent three hours there. They do have a few lockers near to the entrance of that museum, but my bag didn’t fit. Instead, the lovely security officer said she’d look after it under her desk, which she did. When I was leaving I mentioned about the Civil Rights Institute bag policy and she so very kindly said I could leave my bag there at their museum whilst going to visit if I’d like to. That was a lovely gesture, but unfortunately I by then had other things to see and then a train to catch back to New Jersey.
I did contact the Civil Rights Institute and they changed their web-site, although didn’t reply to me, not that this mattered. It now transpires that they do have lockers and perhaps I should have just risked going anyway. A shame, but I had a lovely museum visit elsewhere and have been able to see some of the displays via photos that visitors have uploaded and I think based on that I’d still very much recommend a photo to the Civil Rights Institute as there look like there are plenty of interesting and thoughtful displays and exhibits. It’s also of course a cause that needs support and I think the museum is behind the wonderful civil rights marker boards placed around the city centre.
But that explains to anyone interested (which, I’ll add as I usually do, is likely no-one) why there will now be a series of posts about numerous different artworks. I did though visit the square outside of the museum, which is where the top photo is of, and thanks to the civil rights history markers laid out by the museum learned plenty about what happened and where in the city. More posts on that will follow in due course as I intend to complain quite a lot about the appalling treatment of the black population in the city, which is really the most important point here.
This gloriously designed building is the City Hall of Birmingham, constructed in 1950 and interestingly (to me at least) with a time capsule to be opened in 2050. There are few cities that I can think of that I suspect will be so different between 1950 and 2050, but more on that subject in another post.
One of the main reasons that I was in Birmingham is because I’m fascinated by the civil rights movement and the city is a key part of the story of the inspirational Martin Luther King. I’ve visited where he was born and where he was killed, but Birmingham was a major part of where he and many others took the fight for equality.
I walked around the civil rights trail, of which one of the above boards is in the photo above, and the city hall is important because it’s where marches often ended. Birmingham was heavily segregated and the Public Safety Commissioner Bull Connor was a key figure working from the building and he was not going to accept anything that he considered to be trouble. That meant there were flashpoints here, including the one mentioned where he stomped out of his office, saw children protesting and he ordered the police to put them in cells in the basement of the building.
I had very high hopes of the Little London British themed restaurant which was located just opposite the hotel that I was staying in. It’s got impeccable reviews and had a tempting and innovative menu, with a clear community spirit going on. I got there and it was shut, but I noticed when I got back to the hotel that they had posted on their Facebook page:
“Hello all. We appreciate all of the love and support you have shown us through out the last few weeks. You have truly shown the power of community. However, we cannot in good conscience continue to delivering the level of service we have as we are so understaffed.”
I thought that took the theming of a British restaurant a bit too far but I appreciated they were trying to recreate the staffing problem faced back in the UK. Unfortunately, soon after this message there was another where they announced that they had permanently closed and they never re-opened. I was genuinely disappointed for them when I heard about their story, they clearly tried very hard and it was a shame that I didn’t get chance to dine there as I suspect that the welcome would have been genuine and charming. I’m not sure how they got the double decker bus out here or whether they’re keeping it, but what a lovely touch.
Instead, I went to Hardee’s located nearby, which was easier said than done as it involved crossing a major road where they hadn’t bothered to put anywhere for pedestrians to cross. Whilst standing there being moderately angry, I pondered momentarily writing to the transport commissioner in Birmingham about the omission, but having seen the state of other parts of the city I didn’t imagine my missive would have been greeted with great excitement. Back to the fast food though, I was the only person dining in and my chicken burger was freshly made and surprisingly good. After about eight litres of refillable sodas I made my way back to the hotel, slightly disappointed that what I had anticipated being a very positive British dining experience didn’t work out.
The bus that I had travelled on to get to the hotel wasn’t the cleanest, but it did drop me off outside and on time so I relieved to get there. Also, public transport in the United States is cheap, so it had been a cheap expedition. I was a little worried about this hotel in advance as I had read that they needed a cash deposit and I had spent most of my remaining money at a restaurant in New Orleans. The ratings are also dreadful and I only stayed here as it was very cheap, indeed the cheapest stay of my entire trip.
I had a wait of ten minutes before I could check-in as the desk staff were struggling with their IT, but everyone seemed calm and ready for their fate. The hotel is sizeable, but guests are allowed to look at the site map before trundling off to their room. There was a deposit of $25 which seemed ridiculously low to me, it’s apparently a cleaning fee in case you smoke in their room or pinch their bed. I’m not sure that the $25 would cover much, but they put my deposit on a card and refunded it the next morning, so I had no need to worry in advance about needing cash.
Here I am at my room. They haven’t gone down the route of buying numbers for their doors, they’ve just written them on with a pen. I was humoured, I liked it as it just shouted quirky, quality and decadence.
The hotel room looked quite tolerable in the dark. One of the things that the owners have done is put in new flooring. This is a great concept, but it was like I had done it, with bits not lying flat, some not reaching the wall and gaps in other areas.
The mostly broken hanging rail, not that I had anything to hang up. I just chuck things into my bag or onto a chair, I’m not a demanding traveller. There was an ironing board and iron holder, but no iron.
I admired the attention to detail here as this ceiling had recently been painted. There was no plug in the bath and I don’t mean that the rubber bit was missing, but the whole lot so there was just a huge gaping hole. I was a little concerned that a snake could come up there, so I ensured that I shut the bathroom door. I only spotted one cockroach, so that was good as others have seen whole bus loads of them walking across the room.
There was meant to be breakfast included, but I knew in advance from the reviews that there wouldn’t be and I also didn’t think I wanted to eat here anyway. But, actually, I quite liked this hotel as although it was a complete dump I did sleep well and very cheaply. I felt safe in the hotel (not because the safety lock was even there, but I barricaded the door with their assorted furniture), the staff members were pleasant and I was quite amused at the state of the facilities that they were renting out. I also got the impression that they had given me one of their best rooms, so I didn’t feel hard done by. I was only staying in Birmingham for one night and although my expectations were hardly exceeded, I did feel that I got what I paid for.
