Ladies & Gentlemen, Bule has left the building

Well well well. My third weekend in a row away from the Big Apple - this weekend past seeing the Bule Express make its way up north to Boston, Mass. and the formerly beautiful abode of Mr Glenn "G Unit" Ormsby and Matthew "Baa" Findsen from Staples Rodway Auckland.

Having wangled an extra return flight into my RTW ticket, I was due to depart from LaGuardia on Friday night at 7pm and be in Boston at the sociably acceptable 8:15pm. I decided I would attempt to catch public transport to LGA in order to save about $25. Little did I know that the $2 ride on the train/bus came with a hidden price - my personal safety. As I awaited my 'connecting' (in name only) bus, there were at least half a dozen instances where youths engaged me in conversation - their eyes firmly set upon my heavily laden backpack. I managed some Aussie charm which the Harlem natives took a liking to and decided not to rob me. Bule 1 - NYC nil.

Upon arriving at LAG, I was informed by the less than curteous AA staff that my flight was delayed by 1 hour. Bule 1 - NYC 1. I checked my baggage in and headed to the bar for a beer and something to eat. It was brought to my attention that all flights 'on the board' had been delayed and that meant the bar was packed. There was even an informal line for bar stools. I joined the marauding pack and watched as skirmishes broke out as the occupants toyed with their potential replacements. After about 20 minutes I glanced at the board and my flight was now leaving at 9:30. Bule 1 - NYC 2.

I had to dig deep and use all of the guile I have developed in almost 10 years frequenting bars if I was to obtain an elusive seat. I decided to align myself behind 2 nerdy girls who I had seen pondering their pending departure. Pulling out my mobile phone, I acted as if I was answering a call - 'How's it goin'? Yeah sweet. I'm just leavin' New York. Can't wait to sink a tinnie. Have ya started the barbie yet? Alright mate catchya later". The inevitable "Are you Australian?" was thrown out into the abyss between seated and awaiting. I toyed with the response : "Yes, I'm Heath Ledger's cousin" but my dire need of seat got the better of me.

The girls immediately mentioned they we're just leaving and said I should sit in one of their seats. I looked around and was confronted by an angry Hispanic couple - the male staring me down. I was in a real Mexican stand-off! The phrase "no way Jose" almost got passed my lips but I decided that plonking my bag down and ordering a Budweiser had the same effect. Bule 2 - NYC 2.

A few beers and some food later, my concentration span could not handle the need to read close-caption text on ESPN. All bars here have no volume on the TV, with CC text and music blaring way too loud. This phenomena has forced me to propose another chicken and the egg type hypothesis - Are Americans loud because their bars are? OR Are the bars loud because Americans are? Anyway I'm digressing again so back to the story.

Time was moving swiftly towards my new scheduled departure time. I moved sluggishly to the gates - which those of you having travelled in post 9/11 America can empathise - is a tedious and exhausting process. This becomes even moreso when your boarding pass is denoted with "SSSS" (high security risk as I am male between 14-45 who is not American). I now refer to this code as - let's muck up all his sh1t and generally harass him. Bule 2 - NYC 3.

Completely exhausted (as some of you may be by now following this massive post), I found a semi-comfortable chair in the boarding lounge and awaited my departure. Not one milisecond after my derriere touched the seat, an announcement was made "your plane is here but your crew will not be here for 40 minutes". I quickly scanned the lounge for anyone volunteering to fly the plane as I would have suggested they got the SSSS treatment. Bule 2 - NYC 4.

Game over. NYC wins again.

Consistent with my life-long mantra of "just taking it one week at a time", I waited until the plane actually touched down at Logan International Boston before I even thought about what I would achieve tonight. That was at about 11:30pm. It would have quicker catching the train.

G Unit had organised a party with some of the crew from Vitale (the Baker Tilly affiliate in Boston). Staying at the beautiful Oakwood Apartments across from Fanueill Hall in the heart of Boston, I expected to walk into a throng of drunken louts ready to party the night away. At least Glenn didn't let me down.

I was quickly informed that Mass. Law prohibits bars being open past 2am. I had some work to do. Glenn had forwarded the Vitale boys my blog and they expected big things from me. I grabbed the 600ml can of Fosters I bought as a joke and proclaimed that I would "shotgun it". The crowd erupted (not really). It tasted terrible but I made it through (except for some dregs). Glenn told me the building actually houses two bars and as residents they get back-door access. That excited Glenn too much for my liking - especially as I was to share his double bed later.

We headed downstairs and continued on our merry way. Someone was having a Hawaiian party in the bar and the crew set about procuring as many leis as we possibly could. The Heath Ledger Legend continued it's spread into New England - with one poor soul almost hyperventillating as a result (oh my god, you're Heath Ledgers cousin, oh my god!!). Glenn shared with me his pure excitement in discovering the pie joke - which he is certain will live on in perpetuity. Soon it was 2am and we were escorted out the back door.

With 2 sober American blokes in tow, Glenn and I exercised our right as overseas visitors to act as rockstars in their hotel rooms. Music blared, couches tossed, lamps strummed like guitars, and general loose behaviour ensued. We were to busy to notice the Americans passing a dissenting comment onto the Kiwi and leaving in disgust. No real damage was done and a good time was shared by all.

Headed to the outlets on Saturday and picked up a few bargains. Quieter night on Saturday and and full day of sightseeing on Sunday. Boston is a nice and quiet town compared to New York. I guess anywhere is. Disturbingly though I don't have many photos in front of 'famous' landmarks to post - either they weren't there or I didn't find them.

Bostonians do take great pride in their revolutionary history - the Boston Tea Party and the seed in the American Revolution and American Civil Wars - rebels with a cause. Unfortunately I spent most of my time here like a rebel without one. I look forward to returning on St Pats Day.