Rhode Island Part 1: Providence

Back in New York City, I met my new friend Marilyn, a professional clown, for falafel and we ate in a nearby park. Marilyn is a lot of fun to hang out with. We sat in a communal lounge and spoke with a man who professed to hate money, but couldn't stop speaking about how wealthy he was and all the crazy times he'd had. We also went into a club at 3PM on a Sunday afternoon for a two minute look around (Marilyn played my foreigner card well) and we discovered that the party had been going on since Friday. Oh, New York. That evening I boarded another megabus bound North East to Providence, Rhode Island,

I stepped off the bus and oriented myself towards the town centre. On the way I passed by the State Capitol of Rhode Island and after taking a picture, I had my first instance of realising that Providence was one of the friendliest towns I would visit during my time in the USA. A woman stopped and asked if I would like my picture taken in front of the building. I did, she took it and then told me about the building and that I might be able to see ‘our’ governor inside as her car was visible in the parking lot. Isn’t that just great?

 I went inside the building, left my bag near the entrance after gaining permission from the friendly security guard and took an amble through. A woman hailed me and asked if I’d seen the governor’s portraits yet, and upon hearing that I hadn’t, told me exactly where to go to see them. What a friendly state capitol this was turning out to be. The building also has some of the fanciest and highest ceilinged toilets I’ve ever been privileged enough to make use of.

As it is a public building, most of the rooms that aren’t private offices can be barged into and snooped around.

What a lovely dome.

Had a quick snoop in this official looking room.

Why are spiral staircases so tempting?!

I walked out of the back entrance after collecting my bag and stopped by the visitor centre to see what there was to do around town. I was incensed (by a very friendly information lady) to visit Brown University, known by Brits for being that which Emma Watson studied at. I found a local breakfast place and headed off, bag upon my back. As I was walking around, everybody seemed to be smiling at me. People in cars that drove past smiled at me. Passersby said hello and smiled. As you will read later in this blogging journey, a lot of places in America don’t smile as much as scowl when they see a young man walking around with his life on his back.  For breakfast I ate two giant slices of French toast, two weeny little sausages and a couple o’ sunny side up eggs washed down with a sweet iced tea.





Still with my bag clinging to my back, but not begrudging of it (not yet, anyway) I  climbed up to Brown University and explored the campus. It was very nice really, with a tower, some nice little lobby areas, a church, a museum, and some nice grounds where I sat and stole some WiFi. It was here that I checked my couchsurfing profile and saw that from all my requests sent, I still hadn’t received any replies. As much as I enjoyed the company of my bag, its sheer weight was beginning to become somewhat of a burden.

 Nonetheless, I continued on my journey and went back to town to a bar where I had a couple of sangrias and check my couchsurfing requests again. Still no replies. Slightly more concerned but not completely desperate yet.  I found a nice restaurant called ‘North’ online and headed there. On the way there, I witnessed the not so friendly side of Providence, passing by a bar which said ‘LOCALS ONLY’ above the door. North was a really good Asian fusion restaurant. I had goat and squid ricecakes in a soup high on the coriander scale. Delishy! I also had some little bacon muffins and for dessert, rhubarb, mint and some cracked biscuits.

As evening turned into night, I started getting worried that I hadn't heard anything back from couchsurfing. I enquired at a hotel and they told me that all the hotels were either fully booked or over two hundred dollars a night because of a local dance competition. The receptionist, Kristin, let me hang around in the hotel like a bad smell for a while while I tried to find somewhere to stay.. At one point she even said “if you can’t find somewhere, it looks like that sofa is your bed for the night.” She was joking, of course. At least I think she was. Either way, it was a nice thought and better than hanging out in a bar all night which I thought I would end up doing.

Potential accommodation for the evening, sir?

I was to learn the next day that all the bars close at 2AM so it is very lucky that what happened next did happen. I got a message through on couchsurfing – “Dan, do you still need somewhere to stay?” I replied instantly with my phone number and I got a phone call from Terry, who said that I could stay with him and that he would come out right away and pick me up from the hotel, at 10PM! A miracle!

He did as he said and on the way back to his place we stopped for a drink together.

Terry is a local of Providence, born and raised there when it wasn’t quite as nice as it is now (it has quite a history of gang activity). He was full of stories, gave me a drive through tour of the rougher part of town where we saw a man being arrested, and now works as a tai chi instructor who occasionally visits a cabin in the Canadian wilderness for some alone time.

Terry's home where we hung out.

He was a really great guy to hang out with, and during my time staying with him we went swimming in a local lake. The lake had a beach and was fairly busy. I was a bit hesitant while walking into the cold water, which did not go unnoticed by a young scallywag who called me a chicken. 'Me?' I said. 'Yeah, get in' and so I did, because apparently being called a chicken by a twelve year old matters. He had some errands to run for a while and dropped me off at the RISD (pron. rizdee) Museum which is pretty fantastic.

It had a whole recreation of an old New England house inside the museum and lots of other cool stuff to see.

I also snooped around in a church I was left completely unsupervised in and found this nice note written by none other than Quasi himself.



That evening, Terry and I watched a bluegrass show together, discussed our unhealthy obsessions with mayonnaise and ate together at his house.

At the bluegrass show. Some people around my age came over and invited me to a barbecue the next day. I didn't end up going but it just shows the kind of place Providence is.

The All-American Hot Dog, con pickle.

After two nights with Terry, I was to go and stay with another man called BK who was the former husband of a woman I desperately contacted on couchsurfing. Read more in Providence, Rhode Island: Part 2!

Thanks for reading,

Dan :)