Sacramento to Bakersfield

With only three weeks left before I fly home, I decided it was time to get out and visit some Kiwis and "Kiwi-ised' yanks in Bakersfield. The Greyhound bus seemed like a good idea, so I booked a one way ticket for Tuesday 13th June.Arrived at the station to find it was pretty seedy, with a wide assortment of dubious charactors lurking around. A policeman was doing his rounds on his pushbike...inside the terminal... checking out all the vagrants. Within 3 minutes of sitting down to wait for the bus, a big black 'gentleman' invited me to a gang-bang!!! In my most friendly and worldly voice, I responded by saying, "Not at the moment thank-you, but I appreciate the offer" This threw him totally off guard and I was able to move to a more crowded area.

My next encounter was with an over-friendly young negro guy who had just been released from Folsom prison that morning and was on his way to Los Angeles. Don't know what he was on, but he sure could talk! It seemed his mother had died at birth , his father was serving a life sentence in Folsom, and he had been brought up by his granny. "She showered me with lovin', an' I sure suffered a brooooken heart when she passed away last year. I was so lonely, I went to jail to get a bit of lovin'...if you know what I mean." I nodded wisely, hoping he wouldn't elaborate.
It was a fascinating trip, and being an enthusiastic observer of life, one I enjoyed immensly.
Was greeted by Joyce (Dez's wife) at the bus stop and we spent a lovely few days catching up, and relaxing. Thursday, being pub night, I joined Dez for a session at Squeak's pad. Will post some pics in the next blog, as this computer won't let me do more than a few.

Decided to catch the Amtrak train back to Sacramento on Friday as it added another dimension to my trip. Had always wanted to do the train thing in America, so was thrilled with the choice. Lots of interesting scenery and a great dining car! Arlo Guthrie flirted with my mind for several miles..."Riding on the City of New Orleans"
"Passengers that have no names, freight cars full of old black men...the rhythm of the rail is all you hear"...etc etc. Saw lots of old cars in back yards and tried to get bearings for any future tin hunts. If you're interested in 40's sedans...there's a bundle of them in N. Ballico, just North of Merced.

"Don't jump from a moving train"??? You'd think some things would be fairly obvious!