Train People and the home of the blues.

The 58 City of New Orleans train rolled out, and on we went.

I was sat on the top deck of a large train that made lots of noise. Three girls were sat around me, adding to the noise. Each of us took a pair of seats, thus, creating a square. The girls went to the same University, and had travelled to New Orleans together, though didn't really know each other very well. My understanding of it is, is that they had been chosen by their respective tutors to go on this trip, or something along those lines.

One girl talked. And talked. And talked. I couldn't listen to Music, I couldn't sleep. I did learn a lot about shampoo and boys though. At one point she advised the other two, through her tiny, sphincter like mouth, on how to get all credits for semester two.

"If you really want to do well....." She started

"Oh! Oh! Yes, tell us!" Another girl begged.

"Well, firstly, a routine..." She grandly replied. As if some standard bearer for the army of students.

"Fuck off fuck off fuck off fuckofffuckofffuckofffuckofffuckofffuckofffuckoff" Was swimming around in my head. Though I continued to listen. The lecture bored me half to death, and I think my serotonin hit an all time low, judging by the ten minute interval where I felt like jamming a biro down her throat. It is a consistent chemical factor within many serial killers, low serotonin. I can believe that.

I glanced at the third girl as the other two became embroiled in some competition between who could talk the other one up the most. She was looking attentive to their conversation, though I read in her eyes she was thinking the same thing as me.

"Just get down to the cunnilingus and have done with it."

I have never experienced such girl talk in my entire life, for the two involved it must have been one of the most cathartic conversations they had ever had. For me, and I think the third girl, it was the most nauseating.


I got up and went to the dining car. On the way I fell into a door, fell into a man, fell into a seat and fell into a girl.

Whilst waiting for my burger and fries in the dining car, I met Wanda and her friend Derrick. Wanda is a big lady, a very big lady. Derrick is a thin man, a very thin man.

"Sheeeet boy! I fall of this chair into you, I am gonna break those skinny little white legs of yours!" Wanda screeched at me.

"Sheeet" Derrick admitted.

I laughed nervously and stared at her thighs. If you can call them thighs. I thought about a film I watched with Mandy called 'Whale Rider'.

"You wanna watch?" Wanda asked me

"Sure" I replied.

So, I sat with Wanda and Derrick and watched a movie about White Supremacists. I can't say I felt comfortable sat with two black people, watching dramatised lynchings from fifty years ago.

"It's alright son" Wanda said affectionately whilst slapping my shoulder. "Y'all ain't that bad anymore! Hell, we done our fair share too. People is stupid. Real stupid" I agreed, though I've never witnessed racial violence in such a manner.

I was at school a few years back, and got in a fight with a Belarusian kid. I got suspended for racism. I didn't punch him because he was foreign. I punched him because he was a cunt. I wasn't the only one that thought that.


The film broke up my train journey and got me away from the fledgling lesbians, which I was thankful for. After it finished I felt uncomfortable with the world and the way people treat each other, so I tucked into a Snickers.

I sat and stared out the window, Mississippi was rolling by and Music was in my ears. I realised that in the duration of my stay in the states, I hadn't listened to anything other than 20th Century Music. So, I put Mahler's sixth symphony on and closed my eyes. There is a British conductor who claims that he can never listen to that piece again, or look at the score, in fear it will give him a heart attack. It sent me right off to sleep.

I woke up in Memphis and was greeted by my hosts for the evening.

Monica and Matt are two people I hit on couchsurfing.com. They are wonderfully friendly people that live in Mid-town Memphis. Matt is a chef who is Vegan. Monica is a girl who is Vegan. They live in a house with a few other people, who's names I can't remember, though will be reminded of later. They are part of the Sanssouci collective. They use their home as an open home for all. They cook food and donate it to the homeless. Their front room is full of Musical instruments and they have a dog. They are strongly liberal and have an anti war sign nailed to the ground in their front yard. We drove back to the house listening to 'Panda Bear' and scoping each other out.

When we got back, the dog barked and I dropped my bags by the couch. Matt went out onto the front path and started spray painting bicycle wheels green and orange. At 11pm.

"What they for?" I asked

"Gonna hang 'em from the tree. Like a mobile" Matt replied at the same time as he let out the strained breath that people do when kneeling down and concentrating.

We continued talking and the other house mates came and went. We walked to a garage and bought beer and cigarettes. We came back and sat on the porch. We spoke about couch surfing and Matt and Monica's plans to travel this year. They told me about places to go and what Memphis is like. I told them about England and Europe. I talked about Berlin and Germany, because I love it so. As it got cold we went inside and went to bed.

I lay on the couch and thought about playing a piano. In a bar. In front of people. I miss the piano. I put 'Bright Eyes' in my ears and listened to a song called 'Bowl of Oranges'. It made me think of Manchester and the flat I used to live in. What it smelled like. The food I ate there. The L-shaped sofa, and the things I would spend my day doing there.


I woke up today quite early and started walking. I walked away from town, I think, and have found an internet cafe. I spoke to my brother on the phone and he said he may come visit. I hope he does.

I sat down and started writing this post. Then I went outside for a cigarette. Whilst out there a man named 'frisbee Tom' came and said Hi. I told him it was my first day in town and he invited me for a beer. I duly agreed and I stopped writing.

Me and Tom went to a garage and bought two cans of beer. Tom called a policeman a pig, and I shuffled away from him, so the pig wouldn't think we were together.

Tom is a hitch-hiker. He has been for thirty years. We walked under a bridge and met his friend. His friend was all juiced up on meth, so we kept on walking. We came back to the cafe and sat on the porch drinking our beers. Tom told me about America and all the politics. He quoted Theroux and Emerson. I told him about England and Europe. I quoted my friends and my family.

We met a man named Nick. When we sat with Nick, Tom took his orange bandanna off for the first time and his sunglasses too. His sunglasses had holograms of the Virgin Mary on the lenses. I'm glad he took them off, because they really pissed me off. Nick is an overweight twenty something, with a lot to say for himself. He told me he has converted to Islam to piss his Catholic parents off. I think Nick is a nice guy, just a bit ridiculous. Tom played Harmonica, he played some Jethro Tull tunes and a bit of Led Zep. I told him I went to school with Martin Barr's son, and he flipped. Unfortunately I know little about Jethro Tull,so the conversation died young.

We sat for hours, talking religion and politics. Nick is a frustrated homosexual, in a place that doesn't take too kindly to gay men. He told me he was a ballet dancer as a kid and I laughed inside. I shouldn't have, but I did.

Nick told me I was an anarchist, because I don't believe in God. I think Nick is wrong. Nick said the only reason why people are so religious in America is because they feel so powerful as a nation, and that they can't stand the thought of there being nothing after death. Religion satisfies their egotistical anxiety. Perhaps. I don't care much for that really.

We had a long talk and a lot of it was bollocks. I'm glad we had it though. Tom left me a contact number and went on his way. Now I'm back in the cafe, finishing this post.