The people, the accents, the conversations

These people made my trip. They either ate with me, drank with me, drove me to interesting places, walked around those interesting places, or let me sleep on their couch or air mattress or even bed (not with them -- calm down). Or in some cases, all of the above.

• Doug and Cynthia in Halifax.
• Ryan and Maya in Washington.
• Don in Nashville.
• Phil in Nashville.
• Jim in Birmingham.
• Sean, Cole, and Stacey in New Orleans.
• Joana and Jeff in Chicago.
• Jen in Denver.
• The Cosgroves in Albuquerque.
• Laura in Austin.
• Sean and Cole again. Glorious.

Oh, and there were these secondary characters who livened up life on the bus:

• Javier the soon-to-be media baron from Orlando.
• The Drunk Texan who travelled 3,500 miles on the bus to three funerals in a week, and then visited his sister before she had triple-bypass surgery.
  
• Shelley and Stacey, two Canadian songwriters introduced to me at the Nashville hostel by the aforementioned Phil, another Canadian (who blogged about his time in the city)
  
• Pete the recent convict (no big deal, it was just residential burglary "for a good cause")
  
• Amanda the pregnant lesbian and former lover of a currently incarcerated ex-boyfriend.
• Weirdo, a.k.a. Captain Obvious, who was on the way to Oregon.
  
• Loudmouth in the back who called me "Toronto" (and Amanda "Germany")
• Gunshot victim in Salt Lake City (at the hands of a 95-year-old woman).
• Floridian woman who didn't believe a thing I said about Greyhound.
  
• Jeff the disgruntled, yet happy-go-lucky Floridian who was coming from a job in San Jose.
  
• Various barristas throughout America.
• Various crying babies across America.

Oh, and most of all. Man, I can't forget these people. They are arguably even more important than NOLA Sean, who opened doors to me all across the country:

• The bus drivers of America.
  

Some, though not all, wrap-up

A few weeks ago, I set off on an adventure to do two things: see America and meet Americans. The only planning I did was have money in the bank and a Greyhound pass that would take me just about anywhere. In other words, not much.

All things considered, then, the trip went well. It spanned twenty-five states and included a whole lot of nice, gracious, outgoing, and terribly friendly people. A hundred posts later, I think October Nick would be satisfied with November Nick's travels.

A sort-of recap of cities visited. Not driven through, but visited:

1. Halifax
2. Bangor
3. Boston
4. Washington, D.C.
5. Lexington, Kentucky
6. Nashville
7. Birmingham
   
8. New Orleans
9. Chicago
10. Denver
11. Salt Lake City
12. Albuquerque
    
13. Austin
14. Atlanta

And now, day-by-day distance covered in miles. Keep in mind, there were some rest days:

Day 1: 254 (Halifax to Bangor)
Day 2: 244
Day 3: 455
Day 5: 557
Day 6: 466
Day 7: 214
Day 9: 362
Day 14: 965 (New Orleans to Chicago)
Day 17: 1096 (Chicago to Denver)
Day 19: 592 (in air)
Day 21: 592 (in air)
Day 22: 479
Day 23: 849 (Albuquerque to Austin)
Day 26: 558
Day 28: 533
Day 29 and 30: 1,038 (Atlanta to Toronto)

Total: 9,254

Um. That's 14,806 kilometres. Or 493.5 kilometres a day.
That doesn't make sense. I can't fathom that.

Assuming the bus was always travelling at 70 miles per hour, the limit on the Interstate system, I was on a bus for just over 132 hours. Given the reality of roads, acceleration, deceleration, and construction, and traffic jams, bus time lasted much, much longer.

And all that doesn't include flying from Toronto to Halifax two days before the bus trip started.

This reflection stuff is fun. What to calculate next?

**

Oh, and please excuse the calculation of miles per day. It includes travel through the air, which it shouldn't for accuracy. But the point stands.

UPDATE: My friend Philippe reminded me that the Earth's diameter is roughly 12,800 kilometres. Take that, planet!