Today marks the end of my long journey, as this evening I set off for Auckland, arriving there late tonight.
From New York, I headed to Boston. Boston, though a Northern city, is very different from New York, or indeed anywhere else I'd been in the United States. It strikes me as a fairly snooty, academic place. Also it has a very European feel - it's possibly the most "European" of America's influential cities. Because of its university nature — it has more universities than you can shake a stick at — it tends to punch above its weight in influence, population-wise. It's also a relatively clean and quiet city, and its architecture, high roofs and narrow windows, is an obvious adaptation to its snowy northern clime (though it didn't actually snow that much while I was there).
Though I was sick while there, I was able to spend good time with D.R. and his wife E. D. was a high school friend of mine, and his parents and mine remained friends; he contacted me out of the blue after I had moved to the States. They're staff workers with Cru at one of Boston's many universities. I also caught up with V.T., a small group leader of mine from my Melbourne days, who is now studying at seminary. It was good to hear how their work and lives were, a little more than I'd heard from afar via their support letters.
From Boston, I caught the train to San Diego (Oceanside) via Chicago and Los Angeles. If one's training, I highly recommend sleeper cabins. They're more expensive, certainly, but it's three nights of good sleep, instead of three nights curled up on coach seats if you're lucky!
The journey started off with the forests of New England. Nothing overly remarkable there, except that the cold and snowy reaches of western New England and upstate New York stand in stark contrast to the warm subtropical forests of Florida. I could see the country as far as Albany, where we waited for two hours for a companion train from New York. By the time we left Albany it was thoroughly dark. Dinner on the train was pleasant enough that night. Company consisted of a sales executive and a retired librarian. I woke up in the morning as we were heading through either north-western Indiana or north-eastern Illinois, I'm not sure which; but in any case we soon found ourselves in industrial areas, then Chicago's suburbs, and arrived at Union Station.
It was a grey and dreary day in Chicago, but not as cold as I had feared. Chicago is of course known as the "Windy City", but the breeze was not formidable, and the temperature stayed above freezing point (if only marginally). A six-hour stopover gave me the opportunity to go to the bank and the post office, and I had a brief wander around the CBD. Chicago, unlike the eastern seaboard, is a very functional and utilitarian city, a place of glass and steel; it had the "overgrown country town" feel to it, like Christchurch, but much more so; and unlike Christchurch there was not as much effort to create a refined image: no cathedral in the heart of the city, no grassy squares (except the lake shore park). In a way, though, it seemed starkly honest; here, it proclaimed, is a city, a place to work and to live and to do business, and we won't pretend to be something we're not. After I had wandered through the city (finding it amusing that I went to the Willis Tower, what was once called the Sears Tower, in order to use their post office, since it was nearest to Union Station), I went down to the lake; Lake Michigan was grey as the sky and covered in ice. I could see the waterfront in Chicago being pretty enough on a sunny day, but there was little to do, so I headed back to the warmth of the station.
The trip from Chicago began with a gentle trip across Illinois. I'm not sure if it forms part of the Great Plains, seeing as it's east of the Mississippi. Nevertheless, it was clearly midwestern: flat country, barns and cornfields prevailed outside of the greater Chicago area, as we headed through numerous small towns. Between the northerly latitude, the time of year and the grey day, darkness drew in swiftly; after a few hours, we crossed the Mississippi into Fort Madison in Iowa, recognisable chiefly by the lights glinting in the water.
That evening, I met the two girls who would enliven the trip: N.M. and R.S. Delightful though quirky, they were en route to a town near San Deigo: N. to move in with her husband who works in the Navy, and R. to help her. We chatted, played cards, watched movies, and explored the Albuquerque station (well, not that there's much to explore there). They once again proved my general theory that it's people that make life fun. In some distant day, I may see them again; whatever the case, we've friended on Facebook, as befits children of this age.
Finally, I went to San Diego, where I caught up with O.S.Q.T. and F.M.M., two friends from my Melbourne days: O. from Ridley, and F. from VCP. We compared notes on American culture and what it was like living and working there as Antipodeans. O. is going back to Melbourne for work, and F. hopes to do something similar in due course. It was good to see them again.
Having had a cold, I proved my absent-mindedness. At a pharmacy, I bought some cough suppressant, and some decongestant — real pseudo-ephedrine, not that phenylephrine nonsense they try to palm off on people these days. And I went and left it at F.'s place. By God's mercy, my head wasn't stoved in by pressure changes.
Transiting through Auckland after an uneventful trip, I found myself safe and well in Christchurch, where I spent nearly a week. These few days have been amazing, and will have far-reaching consequences. In many ways, one chapter of life has ended, and another exciting one is beginning.
