Travels in a Tin Can

Stepping on to the subway trains in New York felt so much like the tube in
London that we felt instantly at home. And therefore I instantly placed a hand
reassuringly over our wallet. In fact this was a pose that I struck so often that I
expect the Americans either thought I was immensely patriotic, when our
money was in a jacket pocket, or suffering from a weak bladder, when the
wallet was in a discreet money pouch round my waist, or just a pervert when
the money was in the pocket of my jeans. All that was different from London's
Underground system was the stylised map of the routes. We found the locals
incredibly helpful. We were virtually mobbed with offers of help as soon as we
got our map out and debates quickly ensued about the best way for us to get
to our next destination. This was a real shock because we had resigned
ourselves to facing rude people and being mugged within a day. We were
also quite shocked that Keanu Reeves did not populate the train tunnels, it
just felt so Matrix.
On the trains (and on some buses) we received assistance very rapidly
because of our obvious tourist status. This did however; cause us problems at
times too. For example in California when we got the YARTS (Yosemite area
regional transport system) into the park we were the only passengers. The
driver therefore spent the entire journey talking to us, or rather at us - one of
those people who feigns interest in you and then just bulldozes their life story
onto you.
The one occasion when we decided not to wait for the bus and walk
home instead, soon convinced us that its better to face crazies on a public
vehicle where at least the driver will (probably) be sane than risk meeting
them in the street. This happened in San Francisco where we practically ran