Travels in a Tin Can

alleged 'homeboy'. It was sad that we had assumed he would be violent, but
not surprising given the news (and fiction) stories we are exposed to from
America.
Neither this incident, nor the youth in San Francisco, really opened our
eyes or taught us anything new about society however. Much more
enlightening was the bus trip we took in New Orleans. We were the only white
passengers on a bus full of African American people, and both remarked that
we had never felt like a minority group before. Not surprising? Actually it is
seeing as Emma grew up in Wolverhampton and we lived in Luton for four
years - two of the most culturally diverse places in the UK. By the way, there
was one other white person on the bus - the driver.
In spite of the risks of being hassled I would take buses more often;
except for the fear they induce in me regarding when to get off. Unless you
know a route or you are travelling to a distinct destination - such as a Bus
depot - it is hard to know when to request a stop. I have often got off too early
due to this, figuring that this is better than ending up going miles past your
destination. Somehow we managed to avoid this during our travels, we just
spent lots of journeys with one of us with our nose in a map and the other with
their head squashed against the window shouting out street names. No
wonder people thought we were loco! San Francisco was the most
complicated place to navigate bus-wise. Maybe with more regular use we
would get better at taking buses. Or perhaps we would just become those
crazies who we shy away from now and who randomly shout things: ‘Oak
Street’, ‘Temple Drive’, ‘My stop’, and so on. Trains are much easier.