Well, shit, I’ve missed a day already. I should probably take time out of the actual day to try to update, until it’s 2am and I’m bone tired from bouncing around the northeast, without the alone-time to regenerate.
Though last night I stayed with my friend Colin down in Weymouth, right on the water, which is gorgeous. And Colin is fantastic because we seem to have a very similar appreciation of hanging out “alone together” — he on his computer and I on my laptop, both of us doin’ our own thing, but in a very comfortable, companionable quiet, trading comments and conversation here and there. Which is probably why I appropriated his couch for a couple of weeks last fall and he totally didn’t kill me, despite my shedding like a cat on his furniture.
So today I hopped on a Megabus back to NYC, which was kind of awful, since it was utterly packed, and I stupidly picked a right-side window seat so my elbow was rubbing raw every time I tried to use my laptop (which was kind of a futile endeavor anyway). It occurred to me it would almost certainly have been worthwhile to use one of my Amtrak legs instead of dealing with the Sunday afternoon exodus from Boston back to New York, but unfortunately this did not occur to me until after I was firmly ensconced in my terribly uncomfortable seat. Alas.
Side note: I wish the major bus companies had clearer policies about bikes on their buses. I think Bolt Bus is pretty accommodating — at least I took it multiple times last fall with my huge-ass Surly bike, and I think it’s explicit on their website. Peter Pan has a space-available policy but I’ve never traveled on them; Greyhound is apparently dicks all the way down when it comes to bikes.
Megabus is annoying because I like their service the most, but everything I read online suggests it’s kind of a driver-discretion sort of thing, even with folding bikes. When I went to Boston from NYC on Thursday, I folded it up and they threw it in the luggage without blinking an eye, despite standing directly in front of a NO BIKES sign. Coming back from Boston I decided to buy my ticket at the counter and double-check first, and dude called ahead and confirmed that yes, I could, but earlier in the day some guy had been straight up turned away because he couldn’t get his folded enough (??), and the counter-dude said people absolutely do get left on the sidewalk. Like, a no-bikes policy sucks, but a “guess you’ll have to wait and see!” policy is way, way worse.
Anyway, now I am somewhere in Astoria, chilling on the floor of Josh’s apartment ’cause he’s still moving in. We went to go get a neat dinner, but it was past midnight, so ended up getting mediocre diner food, which is also A-OK. And I know I can’t sleep, and I’m pretty sure if I inflicted my restless tossing and turning on Josh on his air mattress, I’d wake up strangled.
Tomorrow’s main goal is to send the assortment of clothes that I decided I really did not need in my backpack ahead to Seattle. Packing some extras was one thing when I was just shoving them into the saddlebags on my bike, but lugging around an overly heavy backpack (especially on a bike) carries the very real possibility of leaving me agonizingly immobile for days, as it has done before from much much less. So like… let’s not have that happen, world, mkaaay?
Then Wednesday, Montreal! And hopefully more pictures. By the time I got off the bus/subway in New York it was fucking pouring. I imagine I looked quite the alluring sight, completely bedraggled with floral print leggings and cut-off shorts, pink hair and a lime-green bike. I’ll be checking the Craigslist missed connections expectantly.