The Corss-Country Chronicles: The Long Road Back

After 18 days driving across 12 states, listening to 27 hours of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows and drinking more bottles of Lemon Snapple than I have digits to count with, Molly and I finally made it to Philadelphia, PA - the last destination on our long road back to Appel Farm Summer Arts Camp.


After regretfully leaving New Orleans, we made a few pit stops on our trip back north. We spent a lovely 12 hours in Nashville where I was lucky enough to catch up with an old Appel Farm friend and re-sample the musical delights of Nashville’s downtown. From there it was on to Winston-Salem, NC where we watched the NBA finals and slept on the floor of Molly’s cousin’s apartment. We then drove on to Washington DC, playing chicken on the highway with a semi-trailer so Molly could take a photo of some travelling piglets. We stopped for a day in the US capital to give our best wishes to Barack and hang out with some old friends of Molly’s. Then after packing up the car one last time, we drove the final three hours of our trip where Molly dropped me off in Philly before heading onwards to New York City.

After the long slog to get back to Philadelphia before Molly had to be at camp, it was a relief to finally be somewhere for more than 48 hours. And it was a comfort to be back in Philadelphia - the city which had come to represent 'days off' and escapism while working at camp last year.

We had a little reunion in Philly with my closest camp girlfriends and when I wrapped my arms around them and looked into the faces of these people I never thought I would see again, it hit home that camp was about to start. The long wintery months spent pining for New Jersey and intolerable humidity and my creative companions had finally become a reality. A reality that hit the pit of my stomach and sent in reeling.

A few of us journeyed to Atlantic City to catch some last minute rays and relaxation before we made the one hour drive to Elmer, New Jersey - a car trip that was mostly spent squeeling with excitement, like only girls can.

And when we came to that all-too-familiar stretch of country road and the Welcome to Appel Farm Arts Camp, I knew I was home. After 12 months of travelling, a complete year since I first left Australia, I was finally home.

Ciao for now. xo

Why Hello, Mr Obama.

Shooting out of New York on the 25th (after a blundered train ride to Brooklyn courtesy of my inability to read a subway map correctly), the first stop on Caitlin and Kristen’s East Coast Road Trip was Washington DC, a four hour drive south of NYC. Despite not being home at the time, a friend of Caitlin’s allowed us to stay in his empty house in Silver Springs, a suburb on the edge of DC. This was the first time either of us had been in a house since camp and being able to cook, shower and watch a movie before falling asleep in REAL BEDS was one of the most comforting experiences imaginable.

 We took the next day off to venture into Washington DC, described by my Lonely Planet as the city of M’s – monuments, museums and memorials. Despite being stereotyped as a boring political pocket (its home to the White House, after all) I found it to be a beautiful city. The metropolitan area is quite spread out, but the moments, museums and memorials are all fairly accessible as long as you’re wearing comfortable shoes. The best part, however, is that all these buildings offer free admission. F.R.E.E – is there any more glorious a word to a backpacker? There’s something just a little imbalanced about paying $20 to see the view from the 86th floor of the Empire State Building yet not paying a cent to see some of America’s most invaluable historical artefacts.

After paying the Obama family a visit at the White House, we moved on to the Smithsonian Institute Museums, a collection of museums, galleries, libraries and historical emporiums situated within a few blocks of each other, referred to as The Mall. Here, we took a turn through a few galleries before heading to the National Archives to see America’s big guns – the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights.

As with everything important in America, the security was stringent but getting to the documents themselves – also referred to as the Charters of Freedom – was fairly painless. Groups of 50 at a time are allowed into ‘the rotunda’ so that the viewing cabinets don’t become overcrowded and everyone can get a good eyeful. The three charters, as well as the supporting documents that surround them, are kept in the best protective cabinets technology can provide and you’re not allowed to so much as touch the glass, let alone take photographs.

And it’s not surprising as the documents themselves are pretty amazing. Despite being considerably worn and faded (but wouldn’t you be if you were over 200 years old?), you can still make out the signatures of George Washington, John Adams and alike. I may not be an American, but even I’ll admit that seeing the cursive hand of ‘We, the people...’ was an empowering sight.

A sight I’ll get to experience again and again, as I bought the souvenir magnet to take home.

Ciao for now. xo