Is Anyone Out There?

9:30am. The Greyhound bus rolls into Niagara Falls in Ontario, Canada. This looks more like it, nice and quiet, with an early morning sun that is not burning the flesh off our skeletons. The journey had been bearable, and probably better than we had expected really. Although I had not slept very much (in direct contradiction to what the American girl thought in a very similar blog doing the rounds on this World Tour) I felt that it was definitely an option for later travel if we needed to do it. Plus it meant that we would save money on accommodation as it was essentially covered in the Greyhound ticket.

The first leg of said overnighter was back the way we came, from Washington to New York as there was no other route we could take. But it was quiet, and we could have had 4 seats each if we had wanted! But that would have been silly. It was strange to be back in New York so soon after leaving only a few days earlier (and all I can hear in my head now is the voice of Louis Theroux......mainly because James has constantly been mentioning him throughout our little jaunts into towns and suburbs) and the lights were shining just as brightly on our approach as they had been upon the top of the Rockefeller Center last week. But this was not a sight-seeing tour, far from it. A transfer from gate 75 to 22 with an hour to spare seemed a very easy task...almost too easy, and in the same vein as the first leg of the trip, just too easy. Sure enough, we hit problems at Gate 22 as there were huge numbers of people queuing and questioning an old-timer who was trying to sort out a back-log of people that had missed the last bus, due to a back log of the people from the last bus, and so on, and so on, and so on. Apparently the “first come first served” process was in operation so me and James sidled into the queue and awaited our fate – if we missed this one we would miss our second transfer in Buffalo. 20 minutes late, but with two seats next to each other we set off for Buffalo, bracing ourselves for trying to get as much sleep as we could, our neck pillows only offering slight comfort on the faux leather chairs that never fail in giving you a moist backside.

Yes, that IS a pirate in the queue!

Two breaks later and we trundled into Buffalo just after 7am, having missed our connecting bus by minutes. But as there was another one along in half an hour it was no big problem. That can’t be said for the toilets at Buffalo Greyhound Terminal. A quick passport check on the bus to Niagara Falls (we were staying in a hotel across the border on the Canadian side as it has much better views, apparently), and again at the turnpike a few meters down the road and we were out of the US, only a matter of days after entering. The short trip to Niagara Falls terminal got us in two and a half hours before we could check into the hotel so we sat in Edwin’s Cafe with a coffee and broke out the cards (cue dialogue from Trainspotting). An Amtrak train goes by some time later which excites James no end, and all-but confirms my assumption that he is a secret train enthusiast, and then that’s it...time for the station to close for the day! So we make our way to the hotel, check in, and find a room fit for a king. Well, a king that has been on the road for a few days, and stayed in less-than-amazing places. The room contains two double beds, space, a fridge, a private bathroom including a bath! Brilliant. We were very pleased with our lot here, that’s for sure.

Hello?? Anyone there??

The town seems very quiet, especially as it’s a Friday. As after having lunch at Dad’s Diner and failing to watch the football on ESPN as the telly doesn’t have it, we wandered into town for some tea. And it felt like a scene from 28 days later. Nobody around, except for the faint tones of music and a DJ coming from what we thought were bars/theatres, but on closer inspection turned out to be from speakers adorning the lampposts the length of the street. Eerie. And even eerier than that, one of the streets was Eerie Avenue. Eerie. OK, that’s one too many eerie’s. Nevertheless, we got a small case of beer, James broke his duck on asking for his meal to be wrapped up to eat later, and we finished the evening on the balcony of our small mom and pop’s hotel supping a slightly too warm can of Molson Canadian Lager. Well, when in Rome...!