Greyhound Bussing America [Pt.2]

Classic imagery that helped define the Greyhound Bus company
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In which my luck continues to hold.

One of the things I like most about solo travel is the luxury – the indulgence, really – of being able to please myself with regard to itinerary, level of accommodations, methods of travel, choice of eating establishments and so on. Paradoxically, one of the things I like least is the fact that because I am travelling alone, I don’t have someone else to share my experiences with [suddenly, it occurs to me as I write this, that maybe that’s why I write this blog – as a way of sharing my travel experiences with you, the reader].

My three day stop in Raleigh, was particularly pleasing because it gave me a chance to catch up with extended family, and to share part of the journey with them. So when cousin George saw me off at the station, after he and his lovely wife, Jan gave me a send off BBQ with the whole family present, I was sorry to go, having enjoyed their lively company and warm companionship during my all too brief stay.

The woods and forests across the rolling green hills of North Carolina may well be "...lovely, dark, and deep," but like Robert Frost, writing in his famous poem Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, I too "...have promises to keep/And miles to go before I sleep."

With that in mind, and the exciting prospect of three nights in New Orleans waiting for me at the end of a 24 hour bus ride, I departed Raleigh just after 7.00PM for the Crescent City.

Raleigh, NC, to Atlanta, GA. Distance: 410 miles (659 kms)

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From my observations, the further south I travelled, the older the Greyhound Bus fleet seemed to get. That’s not to say the buses were unsafe or unroadworthy, just that some of the seating was well-worn, that there are more rattles and squeaks emanating from various parts of the chassis, and that you might be unlucky enough to find the storage compartment on the back of the seat in front of you, missing.

The bus was 90 percent full, as we left Raleigh, with the usual mix of 80 percent African-American and eight percent Hispanic passengers. The other two percent was made up of mostly of Caucasians like myself. For a while I shared a seat with a youngish male who was trying hard to sleep, although without much success.

At Greensborough some passengers disembarked and to my delight I managed to grab a window seat. Now I should add here, that I don’t do long bus trips all that often, and I do overnight bus trips even less. I don’t have a problem sitting up during the day watching the scenery flash by, but when evening comes, and it’s time for bed, I prefer a nice firm mattress, a fine soft pillow, clean fresh sheets and a warm bed – and I was clearly not getting any of these on this overnight run! Which is why I was delighted to get a window seat.

Coincidentally, it takes almost the same amount of time to fly from Adelaide, Australia, to say, London, England, as it does to travel by bus from Raleigh to New Orleans, which is why I decided to treat the bus trip the same way I treat international travel. When I fly on long flights, I always ask for a window seat, and when it is time for some shut-eye, I wedge myself hard up between the back of the seat and the window, and doze fitfully through the night. It isn’t the firm mattress, soft pillow, fresh sheets and warm bed I prefer, but it works.

At 11.30PM we reach Charlotte, North Carolina and I buy a small travel pillow for $4.30 from the café in the bus station. At 1.50AM, a jot into my notebook: Pillow the best $4.30 I’ve spent on the trip so far!

Personally, I prefer to travel during daylight hours. The whole point of embarking on this bus trip down south was to see America. Spending twelve hours in darkness, rolling across the American countryside does not constitute seeing America in my book, but clearly not all bus trips can be conducted during daylight hours. Not profitably, anyway.

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Image: Highway view by day - seeing America (Well, sort of...)
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Image: The same view at night - Not seeing America!
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As the bus rolls through the dark landscape, we make brief stops in Spartanburg, and Greenville, South Carolina.

Spartanburg gave the world the Southern rock group - the Marshall Tucker Band, and General William C. Westmoreland, who came to much prominence when he served as senior US military commander in Vietnam during the height of that conflict. It was also the home of Pink Anderson, the southern bluesman who unwittingly provided half the band name for Pink Floyd. According to Wikipedia, Syd Barrett came up with the band's name by juxtaposing the first names of Pink Anderson and North Carolina bluesman, Floyd Council, after he noticed the names in the liner notes of a 1962 Blind Boy Fuller album.

Hopefully, you will sleep a lot easier tonight, having learnt that.

Greenville on the other hand gave America the Rev. Jesse Jackson: two-time presidential candidate, civil rights activist, and Baptist minister.

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Image: Jesse Jackson in 1975, surrounded by marchers demanding full employment. [Source: Wikipedia] P.S. Gotta love that 'fro', man.
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Since we were now heading into the real south, a few words about the Rev. Jesse seem appropriate:

During the 1960s, blacks in the [Greenville] area were subject to segregationist restrictions; for example, they were limited to the back of city buses, were not permitted to stay in hotels or motels for whites, and had to sit in the balcony of movie theaters. Especially significant was the restriction of blacks from use of the public library, which partially motivated the activism of the library-denied Jesse Jackson. Jackson, working through the NAACP, organized a sit-in at Greenville's F.W. Woolworth "five and dime" store, and quickly emerged as a civil rights leader. [Source: Wikipedia]

Somewhere off on our right are the Great Smoky Mountains, but since they are at least 50-60 kilometres away, I doubt if we could have seen them even during broad daylight – so I continue to doze on. At 4.15AM we reach Atlanta, Georgia. I’m feeling remarkably chipper, having slept most of the journey from Raleigh. We have a 90 minute layover, and a change of buses before departing at 6.00AM.

Preparing to board at 5.30AM, I encounter my first security check of carry-on bags. I immediately wonder if this is a portent of what is to come? Should I be concerned? Do the new passengers look any more dangerous, deranged, and altogether debauched than either myself or the people continuing the trip down south? The short answer, No. They look tired, haggard, and desperate to reach ‘home’, wherever that may be. Who knows how long some of them have been waiting for their bus, or how many hours they have been on the road, or are still to travel?

I wonder if security personnel are on hand 24 hours, or just during the early morning hours, when travellers are more likely to be exhausted from upset sleep patterns, and cranky due to missed, overcrowded or rescheduled buses.

A Few Observations

• Sadly, Greyhound staff seem to do the absolute minimum necessary to help customers. If you don’t ask you don’t learn or know what’s going on. Staff are faced with an endless stream of tired, stressed and frazzled travellers, but don’t seem to want go out of their way to make things easier than they can be – either for themselves or their customers.
• Thankfully, there are few children travelling on buses, and those that are, are remarkably well behaved and quiet.
• Line up early to get a window seat – if a window seat are what you are after.

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Image courtesy of World Photo Journal.com...
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7.25AM: A golden sunrise breaks above the horizon heralding a beautiful day ahead.

To be continued…

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Read The Full Greyhound Bussing America Trip Report:
[Part 1] New York City to Philadelphia, PA…
[Part 2] Philadelphia, PA to Raleigh, NC…
[Part 3] Raleigh, NC to Mobile, AL…
[Part 4] Mobile, AL to New Orleans…
[Part 5] Tips and Advice…
[Part 6] A Final Word…

Greyhound Bussing America [Pt.1]

Image: Modern Greyhound Bus departing Port Authority Bus Terminal, NYC.
(Source: Wikipedia. Photo: Adam E. Moreira)

Maybe I was lucky.

Reading through other trip reports of passengers travelling on the North American Greyhound Bus network, one could be forgiven for thinking that only the foolhardy (or brave), use the network as a means of travel in the United States and parts of Canada. Online travellers tales are full of warnings and horror stories of cancelled departures, over booked buses, smelly fellow passengers (and even smellier toilets), crying children, and cranky staff.

Like I say, maybe I was lucky.

On the morning of Monday, August 30, 2010, I boarded a Greyhound Bus deep beneath New York City’s massive Port Authority Bus Terminal for the first leg of a bus trip that would take me south through New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, Maryland, Washington, DC., Virginia, North and South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and finally to New Orleans in Louisiana.

The first leg of the journey was going to be short and sweet. New York City to Philadelphia, PA., was an easy ride of 2.5 hours for a cost of just $6.00. A bargain in anyone’s language. So quick and uneventful was the trip that it only warranted one and a half lines in my travel journal. I was however, very excited to be on one of the newer coaches in the Greyhound fleet which offered free WiFi, a service I happily took advantage of.

I spent four nights in Philly (see Streets of Philadelphia) and early Friday morning boarded another Greyhound for the twelve hour ride to Raleigh, North Carolina.

A woman, three seats back talked to herself constantly. I was hoping she would go to sleep but she kept up a constant flow of whispering and animated conversations with the voices in her head before disembarking in Wilmington, Delaware – less than two hours into the trip.

Apart from one or two other Caucasians, all the other passengers appear to be either African-American or Hispanic. Interstate and intercity bus travel definitely seems to be the poor man’s mode of travel. I was going to say, the poor man’s preferred method of travel, but preference has nothing to do it. I suspect it is simply a case of necessity. They, like me, can’t afford to travel by plane or train, probably don’t own cars, and so have no other option but to take a bus to wherever they need to get to.

My journal records: There are two children on board (male and female, and both about the same age (8-9 years)). Thankfully they are both quiet and well behaved.

The journal also notes that the bus does not have WiFi – unlike the one between New York and Philadelphia. In fact, a check of the Greyhound Bus website shows only six routes equipped with the newest WiFi enabled buses (and yes, New York City to Philadelphia is one of them). One can only assume, and hope, that all their coaches will eventually be so equipped. I also wrote: This bus is older, noisier, and seems to rattle and shake over every bump in the road.

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Image: Screenshot of Greyhound Bus website promoting their newest coaches

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It occurred to me that long distance coaches should be fitted with drop down trays – of the kind airline seating has. Drop down trays would be a great boon to passengers who want to rest books, magazines, food or laptops on something more stable than their knees.

At some point we passed Lincoln Financial Field and it strikes me just how dull and unimaginative corporate sponsorship can be. Like Etihad Stadium in Melbourne, AAMI stadium in Adelaide, and other football stadiums around Australia (and the world?), the names have no resonance, history or nostalgia to excite the imagination of fans or visitors. Later on, crossing into Maryland and entering Baltimore I notice another dumb corporate stadium name: M&T Bank Stadium.

It really gets the heart pumping, doesn’t it? Yawn.

Which reminds me.

The man in the seat behind me sleeps through several phone calls. Finally, after at least six attempts and one or two hours of trying, his “baby” manages to wake him up and get him to answer the phone. “Hi baby – wassup?” he intones drowsily, before explaining the he has been asleep. Then… “You’re breaking up… I’ll call you back,” he says, before promptly nodding off again.

The views along I-95 consist mostly of dense green vegetation which occasionally opens up to reveal rich farmlands, or housing developments which seem newer than the ramshackle homes on the edges of most cities and towns. We pass a semi-trailer. Window open, cigarette dangling from a corner of his mouth, the driver steers with one hand while trying to write something in a small notebook with the other.

The towns slip by in a blur of motion and odd familiarity. Each one seems to have a Walgreens, Burger King, McDonald’s, and pizza parlour on the edge of town – sometimes several. Then there are the hotels and motels that line America’s highways. Comfort Inn, Econolodge, Marriott, Hilton and dozens of others. Large concrete slabs which act as sound barriers, line parts of the highway. These indicate some sort of life beyond the eight-laned freeway system we are speeding down.

On the outskirts of Washington, DC.., a sign points to President Lincoln’s Cottage.

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Image: Lincoln’s Cottage (source: Wikipedia)

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President Lincoln's Cottage is a national monument on the grounds of the Soldiers' Home, known today as the Armed Forces Retirement Home. President Abraham Lincoln and family resided seasonally on the grounds of the Soldiers' Home to escape the heat and political pressure of downtown Washington, as did President James Buchanan before him.

The historic Cottage, built in the Gothic revival style, was constructed from 1842 to 1843 as the home of George Washington Riggs. Lincoln lived in the cottage June to November 1862 through 1864 and during the first summer living there, Lincoln drafted the preliminary draft of the Emancipation Proclamation. [Source: Wikipedia…]

At 11.16AM I catch my first and only glimpse of the White House, and immediately regret not allocating a day or two for visiting the national capital.

After a short layover in Washington, DC, we hit the road again. This leg of the trip finds the bus pretty much completely full. I notice, however, that the seats immediately behind the driver are empty, as are the first two seats on the right nearest the door. This is something I note again and again as the trip progresses. It is only while doing some research for this entry that I learn why. On October 3, 2001, just weeks after the momentous events of 9/11, a deranged passenger tried to cut the throat of a Greyhound Bus driver. The driver survived the attack, but in the crash that resulted from the assault, the assailant and five other passengers died.

Again “…on September 30, 2002, another Greyhound driver was attacked near Fresno, California, resulting in two passenger deaths after the bus then rolled off an embankment and crashed. Following this attack, driver shields were installed on most Greyhound buses that now prevent passengers from directly touching the driver while the bus is in motion, even if the shield is forced open. On buses without the shield, the seats behind the driver are normally off-limits.” [Source: Wikipedia…]

Based on my observations, these seats are still left empty, even when there are shields installed on Greyhound Buses.

I am feeling much better now that I’ve had a coffee and sandwich during the layover in Washington, DC. As we head out of town we pass the Pentagon on the right. We are within clear view of the building and while we are some distance from it, it is obvious just how big the massive structure is.

Heading south on I-95 again, we quickly leave the Washington DC, city limits, and enter Virginia. We pass into Fairfax County, where highway signs point to Manassas, Fredericksburg and other towns that featured prominently in the American Civil War. It was near Manassas that the first major battle of the war (often referred to as the Battle of Bull Run), was fought on July 21, 1861. Somewhere off the highway is Chancellorsville, where Confederate general Robert E. Lee achieved his greatest victory. Again I can’t help feeling regret for the lack of time I have to explore this part of the country.

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Image: Confederate General, Robert E. Lee, checks to see if the Yankees are coming. They are!

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As we approach Richmond, Virginia, we encounter our first traffic delay which slows us down to about half speed. Since the coming Monday, September 4, is Labor Day, a national holiday, I assume the hold-up is a result of holiday traffic heading out of Washington to destinations further afield. In any event, the bottleneck soon passes, and we quickly get back to our regular speed.

Occasional glimpses of rolling green country passes on both sides of the highway, but the view is mostly obscured by thick growth along the roadside verges. Sudden openings reveal edges of towns and small regional cities here and there, before the view closes up again.

A line in my notebook observes: No wildlife and no road kill along the highway!

If this journey were taking place on Australian highways, our route would be marked with the putrefying bodies of the occasional fox, careless magpies and crows, and dozens of kangaroos – large and small. But on this trip I don’t recall seeing any signs of road kill, anywhere.

Somewhere along the highway I started writing this:

Chewing up the highway, spitting out the miles,

Greyhound Bus America, crowding in the aisles.

New York, Philadelphia, Washington DC,

Richmond, Raleigh, Stoney Creek, New Orleans by the sea.

Rolling down the Interstate, they call I-95,

Mighty glad to see you folks; glad to be alive.

Gonna take the easy road, just so I can see,

This land they call America, from sea to shining sea.

© 2010. Jim Lesses. All Rights Reserved.

Quote of The Trip: The African-American behind me receives a call from his lawyer talking about a possible upcoming trial for an offence which seems to involve a vehicular accident. They talk for quite some time, and he becomes more animated and louder as the conversation progresses. During their conversation he delivers the Quote of The Trip: “I ain’t afraid of no trial – I’ve been on trial all my life!”

Right on, brother!

Strangest Road Sign of The Trip: It is while driving through Virginia that I spot the Strangest Road Sign of The Trip: SPEED LIMIT ENFORCED BY AIRCRAFT. Since I wrote about this only a couple of days ago, I won’t repeat myself here, but it certainly caught my attention.

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Image: Speed Limit Enforced By Aircraft. [Source: The internet]

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Along the I-95, the state border between Virginia and North Carolina occurs about half way between Richmond and Raleigh. With the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across open farmland, it doesn’t take long before we pull into the Greyhound Bus station on Raleigh's, West Jones Street, and my bus travels for the day come to an end.

That’s it. Twelve hours on the road, and not a thing to complain about. In deed, at each stop along the route, the bus arrived and left on time and without incident. There were no screaming babies or whining children, no psycho killers or objectionable passengers, and no breakdowns or major delays.

Drivers were polite, and the announcements at the start of each leg were brief and to the point: No smoking on board the coach – including the restroom; phone conversations were to be kept as quiet and as brief as possible; other electronic devices (MP3 players, portable CD/DVD players, Gameboys, etc), should be used with headphones or ear buds only. That type of thing.

Having access to WiFi would have helped keep me amused and occupied during the journey, but when all is said and done, it wasn’t a major issue.

Travel Tip: Drivers do not check to see if passengers have returned to the vehicle before setting off on the next stage or the journey. Nor do they check to see if new passengers have boarded the bus. The onus is on you to pay attention to driver announcements about the length of brief stops to pick up and discharge other travellers along the route, and the length of any rest stops. As long as you do that, you do not have to worry about missing the bus.

In Part 2, after a weekend stop in Raleigh, North Carolina, the journey continues to the Crescent City, New Orleans.

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Read The Full Greyhound Bussing America Trip Report:
[Part 1] New York City to Philadelphia, PA…
[Part 2] Philadelphia, PA to Raleigh, NC…
[Part 3] Raleigh, NC to Mobile, AL…
[Part 4] Mobile, AL to New Orleans…
[Part 5] Tips and Advice…
[Part 6] A Final Word…

New York Bathroom Attendants

(Or, Do You Want Mouth Wash With That?)

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Image: Bathroom attendant and his well stocked service center

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Reading through my travel journal the other day, I noticed an entry about a profession that I thought had died out and disappeared along with hole-in-the-floor toilets – at least those that may have once been found in New York City. That profession (if it can rightly be called that), is the Bathroom Attendant.

Let’s be clear about what we are discussing here. Bathroom attendants (as opposed to workers who clean bathrooms periodically through the day), are employed to stay inside restrooms throughout their shift where at a minimum they dispense towels (paper or cloth), liquid soap, and a spray of perfume, hairspray or hair gel. The more elaborately stocked service centre’s might also provide perfume/cologne, mouthwash, chewing gum, cigarettes, deodorant, prophylactics, aspirin and much more besides.

I am well aware that bathroom attendants still exist in some European countries and elsewhere (Turkey, Morocco, Egypt…), but I certainly didn’t expect to stumble upon them in New York, where I first encountered bathroom attendants while visiting the Apollo Theater in Harlem – or should that be while visiting the men’s restroom at the Apollo Theater. I ran into another one at B.B. Kings Bar & Grill, while attending an Iris DeMent gig there.

In my journal I wrote: Like the Apollo Theater, B.B. Kings Bar & Grill staff their bathrooms with a person whose job it is to hand you paper towels and hand cleansers after you use their restroom facilities. Of course, once they have seen to your needs, you must tip them a dollar or two to show your appreciation.

I also asked myself rhetorically: How far back does this archaic ‘service’ go? And is it still needed in the 21st century?

How far back this position goes, seems to be lost in time. However, a quick online search reveals that the bathroom attendant as a modern institution is still alive and well – even in America – which presumably means the service is still needed today. Attendants are generally found in large music venues and other well attended locations such as up-market restaurants, casinos, night clubs and bars, sports stadiums, theaters and such like.

I found a couple of job descriptions online for potential attendants seeking a career in this area. One reads: Restroom Attendant (Cleaning): Makes sure that the restrooms are clean and neat and stocked with towels and toilet paper. Includes the following duties: wipes down sinks, cleans mirrors, mops floors, and cleans toilets. Will need to work with chemical cleaning agents.

Another site added: Some washroom attendants … keep good order by preventing drug-taking and fights.

Initially, my reaction on encountering the attendants was one of surprise and discomfort. I don’t know of any Australian venue or location that employs bathroom attendants in its restrooms, and I was unsure of the ‘rules of engagement’ on seeing the two gentlemen at the Apollo Theater and B.B. Kings.

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Image: A cheerful bathroom attendant with his tools of trade

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Unlike the cheerful fellow seen above, the elderly African-American attendant at the Apollo Theatre looked completely and utterly uninterested in his work, and basically sat, slouched in his chair accepting tips. The Hispanic gentleman at B.B. Kings was much younger, and was at least making an effort to assist his ‘clients’. I noticed that the female restroom at B.B. Kings had a female attendant (also Hispanic), and can only assume the female restrooms at the Apollo are staffed as well.

I mention ethnicity deliberately, since my research (brief as it has been) indicates that this is a job that rarely attracts white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants – to coin an old phrase. Despite the suits and ties on display in the two photographs above (found after an internet search), this is hardly a job for the upwardly mobile.

Bathroom attendants will almost certainly be on minimum wage, if that, since some of my research even suggested they may live entirely off tips!

An article in the New York Times of October 8, 2004 (which referred to attendants as “valets”, presented a tale of exploitation, and numerous violations of American federal and state laws. To quote the article: The restroom valets who stand hour after hour in New York's restaurant bathrooms come from varied backgrounds. Many come from Africa and Central America, but many are also native-born Americans. In booming restaurants, they can make more than $100 in tips on a good day, but on slow days they often earn less than $10.

A ‘miss lynnster’ corroborates this in a comment she attached to a blog post on the topic: When I worked in the LA House of Blues in 1994 or so, some of my favorite fellow employees in the club were actually the bathroom attendants. They … used to tell me that they only worked on tips, which I still have a hard time believing... but I don't know. I don't know that I'd stand there in a bathroom all night just for tips.

To add insult to injury, attendants have to supply their own stock (perfume/cologne, mouthwash, chewing gum, cigarettes, etc). Presumably they are able to mark items up to turn a small additional profit on this stock, but it hardly constitutes a road to riches.

Reading through the comments posted on numerous web blogs dealing with this topic, many readers find the presence of attendants irritating and think them unnecessary. A couple of typical responses: …I don't think bathrooms need attendants. I think most people are fully capable of operating the various functional areas of a public bathroom without the help of a third-party dude.

And: It really irritates me when establishments have bathroom attendants - they're completely unnecessary, and when I'm already paying rather a lot of money to eat and drink, it seems in poor taste that I would be expected to contribute more.

On the other hand, many readers pointed out good reasons for having attendants in restrooms: the added sense of security; cleaner, more hygienic restrooms; cubicles stocked with toilet paper and hand towels, etc. As one person wrote: I used to think that it was ridiculous to have them there … but go to a restroom at a busy club without one and wade through the piss and paper towels and you'll realize why they're there.

Another writes: These people need to eat too. Give em a break. How would you like to stand in a pisser all day and have to hand out towels to people in that setting. Many of these people are not going to be corporate executives any day soon. Don't be cheap.

I’ll leave the final comment to ‘Tom’, who wrote: I'm disabled and make my living as a self-employed bathroom attendant. I take great pride in my work by the way. Besides keeping each stall and such spotless, I…offer things like combs, small colognes, condoms and other small items for a modest price. …I only expect a tip since its my only source of pay. Its honest work I'm not on welfare or taking handouts, I provide a service and try to do it well. Then people look down on my profession, what am I doing wrong?

In the end, I remember tipping the Apollo Theater attendant a dollar, but to my shame (having learned a lot more about attendants/valets while researching this entry), I gave nothing to the attendant at B.B. Kings Bar & Grill. An oversight I will make up for if I ever visit the restroom there on a future New York trip.

Still, it appears those creative Japanese may have a solution to this whole issue. They are developing robotic hi-tech toilet attendants that are designed to clean up lavatories in highway rest areas. Apparently these cleaners (seen in the image below) will also be programmed to have simple conversations.

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Image: Ladybug, a Japanese robot bathroom attendant

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The Ladybug bathroom attendant uses a combination of voice recognition software, speech synthesizer programs and of course microphones in its antennae to engage in conversation with restroom users. Aside from offering conversation, Ladybug is equipped with water storage units, scrub brushes and other tools needed for keeping the restroom in tip top shape. You can have a clean bathroom and great conversation for a mere $30,000 U.S. when this robot hits Japanese markets.

More bizarre Japanese bathrooms facilities here…