Hi Y'all!

So before I went to Chicago, I got the opportunity to go to Busch Gardens theme park, near Williamsburg.  I was given the opportunity by my housemate who was going with her friends from the Muggivan School of Irish Dance.  It's happenstance that the last time of was in Virginia, back in 1994, the family and I went to King's Dominion, another theme park slightly north of the city.  Being a teenage kid, I did not go on all of the fast rides back then; and for someone who hasn't ridden any roller-coasters in Britain for a very long time, wasn't going to 'pussy-out' this time.  Because it's in the fall season, access to rides was swift, and we chose to go on the 'Griffin' first.  This ride has two 90 degree drops, and on the first, hangs over the edge for a few seconds before releasing.  It drops 62 metres, reaching 71mph at the bottom.  I did hang on for dear-life; and it was both scary and exhilarating at the same time.  It probably shouldn't have been the first roller-coaster, but it did set me up nicely for the other rides.  Other rides include Alpengeist; Verbolten; Apollo's Chariot; Loch Ness Monster and even Turkish Delight, a tea-cup and saucer I rode with Meghan (she doesn't like the bigger rides).  One of the other reasons for going was Howl-O-Scream.  When daylight turns to darkness, areas of the park are transformed into "little house of horrors," which visitors walk around getting the "shit scared out of them!" In addition, park attendants and volunteers also dressed-up in halloween costumes, wandering around the park and scaring the bejesus out of people, who mainly picked on one of the gals, and others who'd let their guard down.  British theme parks should emulate American theme parks back home; our theme parks are really tame.

I've now been living in Church Hill North for three weeks now and I've got to know my "housemate," technically, land-lady, very well.  Her two main hobbies are coddling her 7 year-old puppy Jordan (who we met on an earlier email) and Irish dancing.  When we first met, we negotiated my contract at the Hardywood Park Craft Brewery, where I was introduced to live Irish dancing (I had already seen Riverdance) and Sour Beer.  In the neighbourhood, she is known as "snowflake."  Anthony, aka "sweeps," the black man who mows Sabrina's lawn and very amiable, informed her of this term after having dinner one night round her place.  I don't know whether or not this term is pejorative with the black community of Church Hill or just a term to describe white women, but it has led to much amusement among the three of us.  I also have another ghetto-slang term in my large repertoire of racial slurs and swear words!  

She's a Southern Baptist, although goes to a Presbyterian Church.  She is not devout, nothing remotely religious exists around the house and she has missed Church on a couple of occasions.  The main reason she goes to this particular Church is because less-rigid approach to Church orthodoxy.  As part of my American experience I asked whether I could go along one Sunday, and so I did.  Like most Americans, these churchgoers were friendly, and was asked why I was in the United States.  Everyone took their places, and the band played to enliven the mood.  The songs, lyrically at least, talked about love and God.  I thought they could be marketed as ordinary pop songs, which "all" talk about love and "their one and only."  A Texas pastor, who is also a missionary, spoke for the majority of the service.  I switched off for most of it; I was hungry and dehydrated from the previous day's excursion at the Broadberry.   My ears pricked up when he started talking about his missionary work.  He'd been to Azerbaijan, Iran, and Niger.  He talked about Boko Haram and the fighting that had taken place in Nigeria, commenting on one situation where a new church was built after the Nigerian army had defeated and forced out militant forces in this region.  This all came as a surprise to other pastors in Nigeria, who thought such a feat would be impossible in such a war-torn region.  It was all very positive.  That is Sabrina's outlook for her church-going, that it makes her feel good, although we haven't got into any proper theological debates, yet.  What I didn't like was that you had to constantly repent for your sins; that all humans are sinful in the eyes of God.  Another aspect, which reminded me of a group therapy session (because people would speak very openly about their lives), was that the members of the congregation, whilst praying, would speak openly of their sins.  It was rather ad libitum, and peoples utterances were incoherent, as they usually are when making things up on the spot.  One woman made me chuckle (it didn't help she was in a electric wheelchair).  She was hoping to fly to San Francisco, and could not get a lift to the airport.  She did not want to speak to her father, who'd not helped her previously, and then spoke openly to the flock.  "Please, Oh Lord, may someone help me get to the airport; I've tried my hardest, and I've just not been able to find away to get to the airport." "Forgive me lord."  And every sentence ends by giving "praise or love"  to God.  It sounded like and advertisement to the congregation so this woman could 'just' get a lift to the airport.  You could just make "any old shit" up, followed by "I love you Jesus" and that was it.  I thought it was all too superficial, even if the people there were genuine folk.  I nudged Sabrina to get her to speak aloud; she said she had "nothing to say."  I know that's not true - "sinful bitch!"  

As a single bi-sexual woman, she's been on a few dates since I moved in to the house (I asked her permission to write about this topic).  Now, my buddies back home will probably have similar dating experiences, but I never thought Americans were this weird.  One of the first dates she went on, before we met, is a guy now referred to as "Black Slave-Master."  Now the date apparently was going well, until Mr B-S-M asked Sabrina whether or not she - her date was a white guy - would marry him, and submit to him by getting impregnated by a black man and have his children. Oddly enough, a woman called Chelsea, whom Sabrina dated, also encountered this man online.  I wonder if he uses the same pitch for all dates he goes on?  I don't think this is a successful strategy. Another date, was a guy who'd been waiting for Sabrina for couple hours, had a few drinks, had more drinks with Sabrina, decided to get up after three hours' conversation, went outside, came back in, went straight to the bar and asked: "what they recommended for a drink?" completely forgetting that he'd been at the bar for several hours, totally confusing the barman and Sabrina. (Apparently, this guy had damaged his head; he's recently text Sabrina and this was his explanation).  Most recently, Sabrina went to dinner with a police officer.  Although having a muscle car (Dodge Challenger), he was very boring in conversation.  However, there was one story that is extremely fascinating, relating to his work.  The police had been called to one house because of a shooting.  When the five-O arrived they found a guy lying in a pool of his own blood with his jaw blown off!, believing this man was the victim.  The man, as it turned out, had tried to commit suicide, and survived.  About a year later, the same man, whose jaw had been reconstructed, found himself in an altercation with the "pigs!"  Apparently he had fired randomly at some people (the story is unclear how the police became involved).  He shot and wounded a policeman (who was not killed); but the policeman shot back, striking the guy in the face!  The shot however, struck him in the reconstructed jaw, ricocheting off the titanium plate, holding his face together.  He was still hospitalised, but again, managed to survive the gun shot.  For shooting the policeman, he's now in Terre Haute!     

Sabrina is still an amateur Irish dancer, but has started competing.  I went with her and the Busch gals to Williamsburg to watch her compete.  Sabrina has yet to advance to hard shoe and so only competed in soft shoe (Like Ballet), and performed the reel, light jig, slip jig and single jig. The competition itself gave me a unique insight into the competitive "art-sport" that is Irish dancing.  It is also a highly competitive activity in the UK, as both Kaitlyn and Liam, two young dancers with the Muggivan Dance School, have both competed in Scotland.  It is predominantly a female activity, with a lot of pageantry involved, not just to show off, but as a crucial part of the competition when being judged.  Female dancers tan their legs using spray, wigs are worn, and the longer the wig, the higher their status in the dance world.  Dresses are very elaborate costing thousands of dollars, with one young lady having a captain America themed dress.  In soft shoe, dancers glue their socks to their legs so that they don't fall down whilst dancing.  When competing, three dancers compete at the same time, which is normal in any sport, but they compete all on the same dance space, which not only leads to on-stage disruptions, but full-blown mid-air collisions.  Sabrina did win three golds in her grouping, but she was the only one competing.

She next competed at the Celtic Festival.  Because she had to get there early, and I wasn't asked nor wanted to set-up, I drove her car back to the house.  Once I found the accelerator pedal, driving an automatic is very easy.  Everything in the U.S. is designed for convenience and you don't have to think too hard to drive an American automobile.  Not at all red lights, but at most, you can turn right on a red light when there is no traffic.  Navigating traffic lights is simple, but the road system, particularly in Church Hill, which is a grid system, is more perplexing.  At cross-sections you generally have four full-stop signs, and every driver, must stop.  But there are other junctions, sometimes on the same stretch of road where you previously had to stop, where you have the right of way and the junctions joining the main thoroughfare, have to stop.  Most of the time everyone just stops, because they don't understand the road system either.   In Church Hill, they also have roundabouts which drivers manage to navigate, but they're just placed in the middle of a cross-section, and are treated as cross-section junctions!,not as devices to keep the traffic flowing.  I also drove back to the Celtic Festival and had the police following me down one street.  When the Po-Po pulled along-side, he just smiled at me and drove off.  

Sabrina had competitors this time and was awarded a gold,silver and bronze for the categories she was placed.  Like most festivals, it has food, booze, with whiskey tasting, trinkets and clothes, but also included highland games, consisting of the caber toss, weight throw, Scottish hammer throw, stone put and Scottish dancing.  Mr Larby would have enjoyed this very much!  They also had axe throwing, which we would have never have in the UK (little kiddies were throwing them too).  They also sold "celtic" daggers and swords, which I should have purchased for Dad's ever growing collection.  

Let me tell you a little about Church Hill.  It was the original plot of land designated to the city of Richmond and therefore the oldest neighbourhood surrounding the city.  Technically, I'm living in Church Hill North and the buildings look newer than those closer to Shockoe Bottom.  It's called Church Hill because there is almost a Church on every block, within the neighbourhood.  The most famous site is St John's Episcopal Church, which was the site of the first (1774) and second (1775) Virginia Conventions before the "Great American Spasmodic Rebellion."  Virginia, being the oldest state in the Union, naturally, has many of the leading figures living there at the time of the revolutionary period.  George Washington attended, so did Peyton Randolph; but the most famous, particularly at these conventions, was Patrick Henry, a significant advocate of independence and renowned for saying: "Give me liberty, or give me death!"  Americans love their soundbites; as well do politicians, the media and historians, but the complete quotation goes like this:

"Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery?  Forbid it, Almighty God!  I know not what course others may take: but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!"    

It has also come to my attention that William Wirt , who wrote Sketches of the Life and Character of Patrick Henry, published 1817, entirely made up the speeches spoken by Patrick Henry, who had never published them whilst he was alive.  To my friends and anyone else reading this email, who'll slander Americans for their historical myth making, British history too, is littered with falsehoods and pseudo-myths, in the name of "national history."  "Chains and Slavery?"  What about the black chappies who were in real bondage?  This was one of the potent arguments used by the British during the revolutionary period.  Of course, it was the British who monopolised the Atlantic slave trade for 150 years, so we do have our own moral dilemmas to circumvent in our own historical narrative.  

Virginia's first signatory of the Declaration of Independence George Wythe was poisoned in 1806 by his grand-nephew, known as the George Sweeney Trial, took place in Church Hill.  Chimborazo Park was used as a field hospital during the American Civil War.  Douglas Wilder, was not only the first black governor of Virigina, but also the first black man elected to a governorship position of any state; he was born in Church Hill.  Edgar Alan Poe lived for a time in the early eighteen hundreds with his adopted parents;  I have neither dined at Poe's Pub, nor visited the Poe museum.  In 1888, the first electric trolley-car system was built in Richmond, purposely designed for the hills in the cities historic east end.  In 1925, the Church Hill Tunnel collapsed, with homes caving in, trapping a locomotive and many workers.   The rescue attempt was abandoned and the tunnel is now a tomb, establishing a legendary, haunted, reputation.  There's now a plan to excavate the tunnel.  And it was Elisabeth Scott Bocock, who in the 1950s, established the 'Historic Richmond Foundation' to restore and preserve the declined and decaying historic district.  I have wandered around the old neighbourhood and the architecture is splendid.  Last but not least, in the early nineties until the mid-naughties, Richmond was one of the most dangerous cities in the United States.  Black on Black street crime was fueled by the heroin trade and many homicides took place in Church Hill, Southside and Northside, with the most notorious murders committed by Christopher Goins in 1994.

We're now in the final, crucial week of the election.  I'm sure everyone in the UK is paying attention!  

Stay tuned.      

Snowflake.

It's Mr Razzmatazz again, back from the Windy city.

Greyhound, is an excellent bus service.  They're mostly on time; and when they're not, the driver puts the hammer down.  There are plenty of stops, not all of them for resting, and major terminals for long-breaks on all destinations.  This, naturally, extends an already long journey, which is why Richmond to Chicago took twenty-four hours.  Considering that I only traveled a third-of-the-way across the country, the bus journey shows, just how BIG, the United States is.  My route from Richmond traversed Washington D.C., Baltimore, Pittsburgh, Cleveland, Toledo, Gary and Chicago, with other stops in between, according to which direction one was going.  The panhandle of Maryland, Northern West Virginia and Southern region of Pennsylvania below Pittsburgh are all very scenic in comparison the flatness of Northern Indiana and Ohio.  I was surprised by Pittsburgh, which was one of the stops on the journey.  I thought, as an industrial city, there would be more urban decay and abandoned factories.  When crossing the Monongahela River I got a spectacular view of the Downtown skyline whilst the sun was setting, and considered how modern and revitalised the city looked.   

Like any long journey, they're uncomfortable, but you do get a lot more foot-space than on an aeroplane.  You also get a cup-holder, plug socket and your own little plastic bin to get rid of any rubbish.  Seating is non-prioritised.  If at the beginning of a journey, all seats are available and you can sit where you want, most people sit in a row by-themselves, for extra space.  But as you progress throughout your journey, the bus fills-up, people depart and it fills-up some more, all according to the destination and which weekday you're travelling.  Because it is the poor-man's way of travelling, it is a lottery who could be sitting next to you.  My neighbours tended to be on the higher scale of normal.  Whilst at one-stop and eavesdropping, I heard one woman, who throughout the outward journey, was rather loud, talking about her own situation.  She was heading to her home town of Baltimore after recently getting out of prison.  The reason for her incarceration time, was her inability to pay the final $700 of a $2700 debt she had accrued where she was living.  Because she couldn't pay the final amount, she was also being fined, adding more to her debt problems. Not knowing the legal and criminal proceedings of her case, and whether or not she was telling the 'full story,'  jail time seems excessive for someone who is 'probably,' in a economically desperate situation.  I was however glad when she got off the bus because I like peace and quiet - she was loud.  Most people keep to themselves, and the drivers themselves, have rigid guidelines they announce to you, to minimise the amount of noise coming from their passengers.  Peace and quiet is good, but you can't do anything about people who snore - apart from gagging!! 

I arrived at 4:55 Sunday on the day of Mr Lau's race.  We'd spoken the Thursday prior and planned to meet before the race just after I arrived in Chicago.  Unfortunately our rather unplanned plan did not go to plan.  Greyhound's intermitant wifi and our own data roaming costs and phone charges, meant that communication by phone was impossible and as it turned out, my phone had internet problems anyway.  At that time in the morning, no other runner was there, and therefore you'd think it easy to find just one person waiting by the entrance to the race venue.  Well, Grant Park, where the race began, is a massive park, and there were several 'Gates' at which to enter, none of which, I knew where my friend would be waiting.  I asked at the Info Desk, walked up and down past all the gate entrances and couldn't find a soul.  I was waiting throughout the early hours of the morning, knowing that my friend's start time was at 7:30, getting frustrated as other runners appeared, until it turned into a torrid flood of people.  As it turned out, after we had finally met after the race, Kyt, my dear buddy, had already gone into the staging area, where spectators weren't allowed to enter and he, not allowed leave.  I then went to get breakfast and figure out what to do.

After asking a few people whether or not they could track my friend, all runners had tracking devices, to no avail.  I went for wander, went to Dunkin' Donuts for a hot chocolate and a doughnut and then after 3hrs, around the time I thought Kyt would finish the race, I placed myself as close to the finishing line to watch my friend in the final part of the race.  Waiting for sometime time..., and Kyt was slow (I think he should retire from running), I almost walked off and head towards the "runner and spectator post-race meet-up."  Alas, and it made the whole Greyhound journey and morning "meet-up" worthwile, I saw Kyt, who was struggling on the final hill (he had a foot problem), run past!  I was sooooo elated!  I screamed Kyt!; go Kyt!; For Royal Mail!; but he did not hear me. It was then I made my way over to the post-race meeting area I met my friend in the glorious Chicago sunshine.  For the record, Kyt offered his post-race beers to me and because I'm an alcoholic, could not refuse! We then both waited for Mel and Hung to meet with us, which again, was a patient endeavor.

Kyt and Hung had begun their eating binge way before I arrived who had gorged themselves on a Chicago Town deep-dish pizza at Giordano's.  What makes Chicago's pizza so famous is its depth, and is more like a pie than a pizza.  To celebrate Kyt's marathon, we all went to Miller's Pub.  The food, beer, and pub ambience were exceptional and I would recommend anyone if in Chicago, to seek it out.  The only complaint that I had, was that the food could have been hotter.  For dessert I had apple pie a la mode, which could have had more filling to satisfy my culinary lust.  In one of our ventures out of Downtown, we went looking for a pie shop, (which shut after 19:00), so Kyt could get some pumpkin pie.  It was here that we discovered Cozy's Corner. the American diner where we would have our final breakfast.  Before that, for our 'goodbye Chicago meal' we went to Rudy's Bar and Grille, which is good ol' fashioned American burger bar,' for dinner.  Another reason, because Kyt has "sinister motives," for going to this particular restaurant, was that they had an eating competition. Kyt had firmly decided that he wanted to participate in this exercise of gluttony, also attempting to rope both Hung and myself into his little fantasy too.  Hung and I resisted, but Kyt too, was advised not to do the eating contest, because he had no "professional" training.  Although the waitress was lovely and very amiable. So we went back to Cozy's Corner to have our fair-well breakfast.  As some of you have seen from the photos, it was terrific.  I had crispy bacon, two eggs (over-easy), two slices of (sweet) French toast and additional hash browns.  Again, the the Mexican-American waitress was gorgeous with an engaging smile.  We also went to Frojo's for frozen yogurt and the Cheese Cake Factory.

We ascended Willis (Sears) Tower to the skydeck and got excellent views of the city and Lake Michigan.  The guys and gal had visited the Shed Aquarium before I arrived, but we went to see the Science and Industry Museum.  I think it was geared more for children and families; therefore, finding some of the exhibitions rather elementary.  I would have preferred going to the Field Museum of Natural History.  The U-505 exhibit was excellent.  Until you see a machine of this size up close, you can't appreciate its size and the very cramped conditions inside.  I now want to see a USS Ohio Class Submarine in museum setting.  What was disappointing,  was the American "spin" on submarine warfare during World War Two.  That U.S. Navy T.G. 22.3 was the "first" capture of a German submarine containing enigma and code books.  The British captures of German submarines didn't exist in this tour guides version of events.  We also took a river and lake tour of the city, which explained the origins, beginning with the Great Fire of Chicago, of the varieties of architecture found in the city's skyscrapers.  It was also on this tour that I discovered the origins of the term "Windy City," relating to Charles Dana, editor of the Sun newspaper, and Chicago's bid to host the Columbian Exposition.  

Kyt also experienced his own random events.  Whilst Downtown, I can't remember where we were heading, we walked past a bus stop, where one guy was "having a piss."  Not knowing what this man was "actually doing," inquisitive Kyt had a sneaky peak, when he got a blunt response.  "That guy is staring at my dick!"  Even after we had moved on, in the background we could still hear this guy: "Hey!, that guy was staring at my dick!" I don't know why anyone would be urinating in broad daylight at a bus-stop?!  Closer to the hotel, an argument had broken out between a local store owner and some blacks who hung-around the area.  We didn't know what caused it, but you could hear it up and down the street.  I've heard the word "nigger" a few times now, between African-Americans and in discussion with Chris the decorator, but I've never heard used in an aggressive way.  I think the store owner was Italian-American (he had attitude), and the African-Americans were homeless, or just loiterers.  As we approached, he said: "That's why I hate you Fucking Niggers!!"  Of course we walked on minding our own business, but there was no response, and as far as I'm aware, ended peacefully.  Of course, I was hoping the cops would be called and a shoot-out take place!!  I think I've played GTA 5 too much! Killing make's my dick hard!!  

On that note...

Benny 'Al Capone' Kenny.

Benny with Kyt Lau at the Chicago Marathon.

Hey folks!

Just a quick one this time.  I've moved again!  This time into long-term accommodation in the neighbourhood of Church Hill (East End of Richmond, Va.) and renting from a woman called Sabrina.  

She is a native of Alabama and working in the information & technology industry, studying for her Phd. Although, under-furnished, I've got a great deal.  Only $500 a month (utilities inc.) with a queen bed and en-suite bathroom.  Also, English breakfast tea is an anomaly in the U.S.; Americans tend to drink and serve sweet-tea.  Now that I have a kettle in the house, all my homesickness fears have dissipated.  There's nothing better that having good brew in the morning to ease your mind and quell your anxieties.  The house is within walking distance of Downtown, but several bus-stops are easily accessible from where I'm living.  It was a great snare, as I was becoming quite desperate to find such accommodation.  The same weekend I spoke to an Englishwoman called Amanda, who willing to have a tenant, lived fifty minutes away from the closest bus stop.  Her place did look fantastic and I almost said yes, even with this inconvenience, but everything worked out more perfect than I had hoped when Sabrina responded to my craigslist post.

My mates will be pleased that I spent my first night with a lady called Jordan.  Being a slutty Ho, she does move on from person to person very easily - especially if you give her the attention she desires. Her human characteristics however, are lacking.  She has ten teats, hair all over her body, a wagging tail, and walks on all fours.  If you think about it, from a human perspective, only one of them is definitively, not human.  

I mentioned in the first email, that the temperature here was hot.  It has now cooled considerably, but humidity and mugginess is still an issue.  Last week we had thunder and lightening, and although we get it in the UK, I've never seen or heard a storm like they get here.  It was also right over the city.  There was a sudden flash, with its cracking sound, and then an instantaneous roar and rumbling noise from the Thunder overhead.  Of course it was accompanied with lashings of rain.  I don't know why, but whenever it's rainy and windy, a primitive childish instinct overlays all my fears - as if I'm safe from the whole world that's lurking outside, when I'm inside.  I got that feeling when the thunder and lightening struck.  

Staying with the weather, you news hounds must be aware of the imminent danger that Hurricane Matthew poses to Florida, East Georgia, coastal South and North Carolina.  It looks like the hurricane is going to move back out over the ocean before it reaches Virginia but apparently, we'll get the residue of its rain and wind.  I am going to be away this weekend, but never experiencing extreme weather is going to be a disappointment.  People may think that I'm undermining the danger such a phenomenon would bring to those living it is path, especially the destruction and havoc the hurricane has brought to the people of Haiti.  But extreme weather, like extreme sports, like extreme drugs and like extreme politics is an experience that shouldn't be missed.   

I got it into my head, once I knew that Kyt was coming to the United States, that I was going to have a road-trip to Chicago.  Unfortunately, I have bailed on that notion, and decided to take the greyhound bus to the windy city instead.  I leave Saturday morning at 8:20, travel up to Washington D.C., Maryland, Pennsylviannia, Ohio, Indian and then arrive in Chicago Sunday at 4:55, just in time to watch Kyt race.  I'll then spend a few days with clan Lau before heading back.  Once back in Richmond on Wednesday, I'll let everyone know what we got up to, and hopefully, Mr Lau, will also contribute to the blog. 

Hurricane Kenny.

Alright, I'm back; and I just know you're hungry for more news....

Rick, I've already edited the emails myself so there's no need for further editing.  Thanks for blogging my email; it's great that the online community want to read it.  The messages on whatsapp have been very supportive, and I hope this next part of my travels gets good reviews.  I also like the fact that nobody is interested in what Mr Hall has to say on whatsapp!  I also have a few more friends who's emails I have, and can inform them of my travels.

One of them is Kyt who is flying to Chicago next month with Mel and Hung, to participate in the Great Chicago Marathon.  This means a possible trip across America to cheer him on!  There are several options available: walk, cycle, drive, Amtrak, greyhound or fly.  To my followers, please let me know your thoughts about how I should get to Chicago?

Last Wednesday I moved from the outskirts to Downtown, swapping the very comfortable Best Western Hotel for the Hostel Inn.   The Hostel is only a year old and it definitely has a new feel to the decor.  Because it's not in a conventional tourist city, most travelers pass through on their way to other destinations.  It's inexpensive in comparison to the hotel, but your sleeping in a six-bed dorm.  Even with earplugs, the constant disruption and noise makes sleeping a difficult task.  But other positive aspects to living in a hostel, is that you have cooking facilities and you get to meet a great variety of people.

The first person I spoke to was Santiago and his canine companion Thera, from Mexico. Naturally, any conversation between two travelers starts with "what are you doing...?"  So I told him about my volunteering for Hillary Clinton campaign, which as a Mexican, he fully supported.  His story, however, is a much more remarkable journey, both internationally and spiritually.  He is "Walking for Humanity," traveling from Puebla Mexica to Istanbul.  He'll then go to the Turkish-Syrian border to build a hospital for those refugees fleeing the very destructive civil war in Syria.  He had already traveled through Texas, Louisiana, Alabama, Georgia, both Carolina's before meeting me.  He left last Thursday and was heading to New York, his last stop in the United States.  For those who are interested, go to Facebook@walkingforhumanity to discover more about Santiago and Thera's incredible journey.  

In my dorm I met two South Koreans, Choo and Dong "Chief" Won. They're both in the U.S. Navy taking a bit of R 'n' R, and although there English was not great, they're very friendly and engaging in conversation.  Chief, who had only recently arrived, left behind a two-week old son who he would not see for another eight months.  We both mused (when we first met) that his wife would be calling him constantly; Low and behold, she did!  In addition, I met Ulrich from Vienna, Austria.  He had been in New York and had driven down Skyline Drive, part of Shenandoah National Park.  He was very much interested in politics, and we talked about Austrian, British and American current affairs.  His English was very good, but when he spoke, sounded like Rainier Wolfcastle from the Simpsons, which made it difficult to concentrate when having a conversation.  We went to the Penny Lane and watched the first presidential debate together, before he went back to New York.  I also met Mike from Indiana at the PL, Depauli, a gorgeous looking Indian-American at the Oktoberfest street festival, Sania and her daughter Mia at the Indian Festival and Lea, a forty something year-old "man-eater" with ADHD, who dates men in their mid-twenties.  Fortunately, I was too old to be a potential target.  I was happy about that.

What I like most when out and about in the city, are random events.  There are numerous homeless people, black and white, who ask me for directions and money.  I give the occasional dollar and the most I gave was $5 to a young black family.  The weirdest interaction was with this "white homie-less" who asked me for money for the bus.  He was called "Bubba" and he stank of body odour and booze.  He was hanging around other homeless people and his reasoning for the bus ticket, "was to get away from these other guys."  I was a little confused because he could, at any time, just walk away from them; more than likely he probably wanted the money for more alcohol. I didn't give him any money.  

Of course, you meet and greet people all the time and then go-on your way. One guy who I met after shopping in Kroger, was James.  He had loads of shopping which he had to transport on the Bus and then walk a fair distance after his journey.  We discussed the unpredictability of the GRTC system, Princess Diana, and his son, who DJs in New York.  I helped him with his shopping onto the bus and he gave me a fruit memento.  Another guy, who gave me directions to get to Belle Island, complained about the "violence" in the country and asked me "whether or not we had the same amount of violence in the UK?"  I responded, "that we didn't have this amount of gun violence because we have very strict gun laws," and continued "but we still have murderers, rapists, paedos and fraudulent bankers."  Although I left him after that, he was a man who I think, had seen too much violence in his lifetime and he opined "the violence, man! it's all around here," "all in this neighbourhood!"  Our conversation however, did take place just after the shooting that took place in Charlotte, NC and that may have been in his thoughts at the time.

My favourite random meeting so far was with a woman called Charlene, from Wisconsin.  I was in 'Rite Aid,' similar to 'Superdrug' in the UK and looking for plasters, which Americans know as "bandages."  Charlene overheard or, should I say, misheard and directed me to the rubbing alcohol and suggested I use the 90% instead of the 70% which would get rid of the itching.  Charlene, however was referring to the itching she got after she removed a tick that had bitten her.  Her dog too also got ticks, and she explained to me the difficulty of removing them because they were so close to the dog's eyes.  I asked her "how she removed the tick from her body," which she replied: "I just pulled it out."  I was amazed by this because it can be very dangerous removing a tick; you may end up squeezing it, injecting blood into your body and a variety of diseases that ticks carry on them.  Charlene then talked about another mite (a relative of the tick) called "chiggers," which you also can catch when walking in tall grass.  However, the conversation got a little deeper.  She was explaining her "chigger" story to her daughter's boyfriend, who, not paying full attention, thought she said the word "niggers." Thinking that Charlene had used an "offensive" word, the boyfriend got into a right "huff 'n' puff," until she had correctly explained her story. We then talked about Britain and the time she went to Yorkshire. Her family geneaology descends from the Yorkshire area, and that's, where she believes, gets her humour.  What I love, and maybe because she was talking to another white person, was her unabashed use of the word 'nigger' even though she knew it was a derogatory term.  Maybe it is generational thing; I remember my late Great Aunt using the word nigger in the nursery rhyme 'eenie, meeny, miny, moe,' and also my vodka and tonic gran cheekily using the word 'coon' when talking about inhabitants of the Caribbean, one time.  But I will always remember this event as the "chigger-nigger" meeting.  I think it should be made into a kids story.     

As I've orientated myself to the city, getting around now, is no problem.  I went to see the Holocaust Museum in Shockoe, established by Jewish survivors who made a life for themselves in Richmond. For someone who has studied the Third Reich, the museum is both illuminating and frustrating at the same time.  Like most "conservative" or "traditional" interpretations of Nazi Germany, it follows the "mad-man theory" which begins with Hitler and ends with Holocaust, without explaining the dynamics of German society between 1933-1941/2.  In addition, like a lot nation-creating myths, the story it presents, proposes that the "Shoah" was the price Jews had to pay which led to the establishment of the state of Israel. Like most national movements that lead to independence, they are bloody and violent, and somebody always loses out.  Everyone should read about the exploits of Haganah, Irgun and the Lehi in Israeli history.  Although President Harry S Truman endorsed the establishment of the State of Israel, through a 'guilty conscience,' it's creation had nothing to do with the holocaust.  To anyone visiting any museum or reading a history book, be aware of the politics that is associated with any topic of history.  My knowledge, however, was illuminated by the Nuremburg Trials exhibit, Jewish resistance and those who hid Jews from Nazi authorities.  There is also a tremendous amount of information which focused on events in Lithuania and memorials (especially of children) to the victims of Nazi crimes.

Continuing with the German theme, I was at an Oktoberfest street festival organised by the Capital Ale House Downtown.  There was live music, food stalls and of course, beer.  I had a couple of steins of Oktoberfest weisebrau and a giant pretzel.  I got there quite late and therefore had to move on soon afterwards, where I bumped into Michael from the Penny Lane, just as a Wedding party arrived.  For an evening that was meant to be quiet, I had good time!  

One of my sadist friends wants two things from me whilst in the U.S.. One, is to speak on a local radio station and the second, to gain weight and return as plump, pot-bellied Benny! The first still needs arranging, but i'm well on the way on the second.  In the first week, I arrived just in time (15-9) for 'National Double-Beef Burger Day.'  I went to TGI Fridays for my burger which was expensive and dissapointing.  As well as stuffing myself with a giant pretzel at Oktoberfest, I went to the Italian (American) Food Festival where I ate Chicken Parmigiana in a toasted bread roll, with fries and watched a meatball eating and pizza throwing contest.  After an afternoon nap, I went to the Indian Festival and ate Pyaaj Kachori, gulab jamun and paan.  Like most Asian cuisine, and I do love spicy food, the food is great - the Thai food that I ate in Thailand being the best food I've eaten - their desserts pale in comparison to Western puddings.  Paan, is mixture of herbs and spices which you chew after a meal.  Some are hallucinogenic, but this one was quite minty and worth trying - it did settle my stomach.  I also went to the Richmond 2nd Street Festival, which had music, a catwalk, classic cars, radio stalls and clothing stalls.  Most importantly it had food stalls and I chose to eat from one called 'The Cultured Swine.'   I had jerk chicken in a soft tortilla wrap with mango and banana chutney and a portion of seasoned fries.  To wash it all down, and I haven't tried too many desserts, went to a stall serving deep-fried oreos.  I wasn't that impressed, and I should of had the funnel cake with strawberry sauce instead.  Plenty of time....  The street festivals are great, it allows everyone from the local community to get involved, injecting a bit of income into local pockets and strengthening the neighbourhood. 

Last, but not least I have to talk about politics.  The campaign is going well, and canvassing voters is the most fun aspect of my volunteer work.  I do like talking to people, and people like talking to me.   Due to campaigning being about getting people to vote, campaiging strategy 'kind of' dictates the people you speak to and the pitch you have to sell.  It means that I've discovered more about peoples' political opinions and perspectives from the hostel, festivals and on the street rather on the campaign trail itself.  It's not just the candidates that are loathed, but the political party system, electoral college, gerrymandering, and state v. federal political tug of war.  Political apathy here is rampant, just like in Britain, which is why Bernie Sanders would have been a much better choice for the Democratic candidate.     After the first presidential debate, Clinton has had marginal gains on Trump, but we haven't learned anything new about the candidates, and furthermore, this debate won't have a deciding factor on the election itself, nor persuading voters which way they should vote.  Clinton's biggest problem is that she comes across too robotic in front of the cameras.  The other problem is that she didn't squeeze Trump harder to get more information when she taunted him about his past indiscretions. The story about the ex-Miss Universe Alicia Machado has consumed the papers this week, which means Trump will be 'off message.'  That Clinton didn't push Trump harder about his tax returns during the debate was a mistake.  However, it's been revealed that he hasn't paid federal taxes in over two decades, which again, will keep the Trump campaign off message and on the back-foot.  The vice-presidential candidates go head-to-head this Thursday in live television debate.  Again, this won't have any bearing on the election, but gives Tim Kaine and Mike Pence a chance to show their credentials.  But it could also keep the Trump campaign on the back-foot if Kaine can get more information about Trump's tax returns.  The polls look good, but there's a long way to go....

Speak to you soon.

Hi guys!

Well, I'm in the USA.  Even after being here a week I could definitely live here, although I probably wouldn't live in Richmond.  Richmond is a small city in comparison to other American cities but because of the size of the country, everything is really spread out.  You can't really walk any where and due to my problem of hiring a car in the first week, I've had to balance traveling to and from the city by taxi or public transportation.  This first week then, has been mainly orientating myself to the city.  

Richmond is 50% black and like most inner-city areas, is poorer than the suburban regions of the country; and like Greyhound, the public transportation system in Richmond transports the poorest of society, which is mainly the city's black population.  Like the staff at the Best Western, everyone I've spoken to is very friendly and in fact, very deferential when speaking to a white man.  There are others though, that won't even look at you and will do their utmost to avoid you completely (I was wearing my white hoody at the time).  You also get freaks riding the bus too,(like the alcoholics I served at Wetherspoons) and one started talking to me on Monday.  Like most conversations, I usually end up listening more than I talk, and this guy talked.  He recognised the accent, and so started talking about the British and the places he would like to visit.  I recommended visiting London and Edinburgh.  Then he started talking about his own issues - (he's probably really lonely and has know-one to talk to) - he was about to get evicted and have his wifi disconnected.  He had gripes about his sister, who wouldn't lend him any money, but respected his brother-in-law, who had supported him in times of need.  We finished the evening eating at Jason's Deli, where I bought him a drink and some potato chips.  We talked about music and he talked to me about the time when he met Frank Zappa & the Mothers of Invention.  He wanted my telephone number; I gave him my email address.  I don't expect to hear from him anytime in the future.

In the last couple of days it has been overcast and rainy, but prior to that, the temperature and humidity have been sweltering.  Now I consider myself fairly smart, and yet, even after checking what the weather was like in Richmond, didn't bring a hat, nor any sun cream with me to the States.  After walking to the local Walmart in the sweltering heat - to purchase sun cream and look at the munitions cabinet - I got heatstroke after walking back, and spent a day indoors to recover.  The temperature too, is not conducive for those who like walking around a city so spread out.  But I've seen the State Capitol building and toured two museums already:  the American Civil War and Confederacy Museums Downtown. I've also discovered a gun-range called Colonial Shooting Academy, which has excellent reviews and of course, somewhere I intend to visit during my time here.  You can spend $20 for an hour's shooting and Glock pistols appear to be on sale, which I think, will be a great gift for my dad!  Larby, does your dad want anything?  Like most States within the union, Virginia has some of the least restrictive gun laws and in recent years, has had a huge problem with gun violence.  In recent years, gun crime has significantly declined and I haven't witnessed any shootings yet!  

Last Sunday, on one of my excursions Downtown, I quenched my thirst by visiting the Penny Lane Pub.  I had a fandabtastic afternoon. I met Dave, an Englishman from Adlington in Northern England, and who's Argentinian wife dragged him to Harry Potter World in Florida.  They were driving through Sunday night.  I also met Michael, an American and fellow barman; Mash & Joe (both Brits), the barmen at the PL; P.J., a Scotsman who's now retired and lives in Virginia, and Steve & Mary-Stuart, an American couple who live and work in Richmond.  As well as getting drunk, and getting beers bought for me, everyone of the group were interested in what I was doing and gave me valuable advice, regarding accommodation and politicking in Virginia.  Mary-Stuart works for the Sierra Club but is also working for Donald Mceachin, who is a Democrat running for Virginia's Fourth Congressional District.  P.J. is skeptical about the whole presidential election, and believes that Clinton has it in the bag already.  He dismisses the media hype - who has a lot of battleground states tying, or even polling in favour of Trump.  His advice to me was not to bother volunteering, but just have a good time in Richmond and try getting laid.  The city does have two universities, so I'll let you know what happens.... 

Whilst in the UK, I couldn't properly communicate with the Hill-Dog! campaign.  Therefore, planning and implementing this trip has been very impulsive - more so than I had anticipated.  I did some background research into Virginian politics and found out where the campaign office was situated, so I could get involved straight away.  However, like orientating myself to the city, I could not get involved in the campaign straightaway.  I had to be patient with the campaign staff who I spoke to, particularly the "Organising Captain," who said would contact me and let me know when I could get involved.  Nothing annoys me more when people say they're going to contact you - and then don't - even if they may have had legitimate reasons, not to.  I kept on badgering the office, and spoke to Brett, who got me involved immediately.  Today, I spent the day "phonebanking," which is when you call local residents (Democratic party members), and ask them if they're interested in volunteering for the campaign and who they might vote for in the election. It was a rather tedious job.  Most people didn't pick up, others hung up immediately, and the few you did converse with, weren't that interested in volunteering.  But it was good to finally get involved.  I'm in again tomorrow and it should be a busy day.  

That's it for now.

Steve.