Well at least that's what I was thinking when I decided to take a Greyhound bus (well a number of them actually) cross country to Las Vegas and a train ride from San Francisco home again.
The response to this decision has been met with a myriad of responses, mostly that I must be out of my mind. Oh that and to take knuckle dusters with me to fend off the freaks (thanks Joe Brown at Connick's Sandwich Shop for that tip and for supplying me with the world's best cookies for the trip).
I'd never really considered that I'd put myself at risk of meeting a sociopath by taking a bus to Las Vegas, but universally most of my American friends have implied this may be the outcome.
With that in mind I turned to Google to see if there was foundation for this concern. Probably shouldn't have done this. Turns out just two months ago some nut case hijacked a Greyhound Bus (read it here: http://www.cbsnews.com/8301-504083_162-20030651-504083.html) - not sure how I missed this. I would like to point out that no one was hurt.
Not so lucky was carnival worker Tim McLean who was decapitated by a fellow passenger back in 2008 while traveling on a Greyhound bus bound for Winnipeg (http://www.canada.com/montrealgazette/story.html?id=ba3498aa-995c-4f03-92f7-1a3cb0c79532).
Okay, I'm going to stop with Google now, although I couldn't resist the one about a UFO abducting a Greyhound Bus (http://www.ufoevolution.com/forums/showthread.php?t=6624) and focus on the fact that my non-American friends and family agree that the scenery and random places I'll travel through will make the long distance worth it.
Which brings me to the number one question I've been asked is how long will it take to get from Vermont to Vegas? The answer: 3 days, 4 hours and 45 minutes.
Day's Itinerary: Rutland (VT) - Burlington (VT) - Montpelier (VT) - White River (VT) - Manchester (NH) - Boston (MA)
4.30am - I wake up before the alarm. Why is it that when you're about to go on holidays you find it impossible to sleep? Given that I'm unlikely to have a decent sleep over the next 3 hours, 4 days and 45 minutes, I took the opportunity to have a decent sleep only to have it interrupted by my inability to sleep and paranoia the alarm wouldn't go off.
Given my not too distant future pretty much entails martinis poolside at The Palms (yes, the place where Jersey Shore's Pauly D is the resident DJ, I will forever be an MTV & VH1 junkie) I should be more relaxed!
5.00am - my mood improves as I drag my suitcase down Terrill Street where I imagine the noise of the wheels on the sidewalk wakes up everyone who had a good night sleep.
5.30am - I board the bus to Middlebury and am immediately confronted by the number one problem of long distance travel - fellow passengers. Even worse, there's only two of us traveling on the bus and one of us (read: not me) is regaling the bus driver with tales of the charmed lives of cats. And scarcely a second after I guess what he's going to say next, the passenger compares the life of a cat to that of his girlfriend. One hour and 15 minutes till we're in Middlebury.
I try to tune the human radio out but his propensity to truncate his sentences with an 'oh yeah' with a heavy emphasis on the 'oh', kind of like how I imagine a serial killer would as he puts his victim through a wood chipper, makes it difficult. I eliminate all thoughts of grisly deaths but I can't turn the radio off.
6.45am - Finally in Middlebury and god damn it, looks like the radio is going to Burlington. With half an hour to kill before the next bus, I opt for peace and quiet and importantly the first coffee of the trip at Steve's Park Place Diner. Not much peace and quiet to be had - the local plumbers are there and liberally using the 'f' word as only a decent tradie can. It's so much better than the human radio.
7.00am - Back to the bus stop in anticipation of the arrival of the Burlington Link, the radio's still going, this time it's a story about Rutland Hospital and their failure to recognize his son's cut was infected.
7.15am - First incident of the trip occurs. I'm under the impression that the bus to Burlington is $2. It's not, it's $4, which the driver informs me AFTER I already feed one of my two $1 bills through the machine. So I have a $5 note left and the machine not only doesn't refund, it doesn't give change. Awesome. A girl behind me strikes a deal with the driver to give me a $1 and use my money towards her fare. I don't quite understand and am quite certain I've been fleeced somehow. I really need more coffee.
8.45am - Arrive at Cherry Street Transit Station where there seems to be a surprising number of vagrants and old men, who all want to talk to me. Put my head down and drag my increasingly heavy bag (I am now lamenting my decision to include a jar of Paul Newman's Tequila Lime salsain my packed snacks) to Uncommon Grounds for a much needed double shot latte.
10.00am - Decide to leave Uncommon Grounds and head to Burlington Airport on account of the persistent cough of the man sitting at the table beside me and the very loud and uninspiring conversation between the people on the other side of him; all of which has spoiled my $5 latte.
10.15am - The old man trend continues on the bus where two unkempt and equally loud pair provide some unsolicited advice on getting to the airport. It's also the site of my second incident. Turns out it's $1.25 to catch the bus to the airport (which also requires a transfer at some place called UMall). Can I just say, that's a kind of odd price.
I also only have $2 and prepare myself to once again donate additional funds to Burlington's bus system but the bus driver tells me I can owe him. The unkempt pair now discuss their weekend plans which includes cleaning out a basement. I imagine this is where they talk their victims to death. Must stop with these macabre thoughts; haven't even stepped on board the Greyhound bus yet.
10.30am - Arrive at UMall, which I'd correctly guessed is an abbreviation for University Mall. The old man (whose friend sadly alighted) informs me to transfer here. I board my fourth bus for the day and it's not even 11am yet.
10.32am - The bus driver asks me if I have a body in my bag. It's not just me. The bus drivers are in on it too.
10.55am - Arrive at Burlington International Airport where I'm reminded how I'm not flying to Las Vegas. On paper it makes sense to have the Greyhound Bus Terminal at the airport but right now it just seems cruel.
11.00am - My disappointment over not flying is alleviated by the sight of a man trying to stuff a large trophy into his cabin baggage after being told by Jet Blue he had too much hand luggage. Bet that doesn't happen on Greyhound.
12.03pm - Crowded House's Weather With You is playing at Burlington Airport. This is the last place I expect to hear Australian/New Zealand music.
12.30pm - Paul Newman's Tequila Lime salsa is really good. Predict my bag won't be as heavy very, very soon.
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