Right before leaving for Philly, one of my American friends was telling me stories from all his solo travelling, crazy circumstances that somehow slotted together for memorable and unexpected experiences, and I told him how I just didn't think that I was one of those people, that I plan too much and live far too safely to ever have something like that happen to me, even if I was travelling on my own. Then I went to Philadelphia.
I originally planned on writing a neat little post about all the things I did and saw, but I couldn't write it without feeling fake. So instead I present you with a long and honest ramble about my sojourn in the city.
I have wanted to travel solo for a very, very long time, but despite all the millions of trips I have planned and ventured on, I have never been on my own. This little trip was a recce, a (not so) free trial before I chose to upgrade to full Solo Explorer. And in the days before I went I was excited to finally go, but also incredibly nervous, worried that I had built up the idea of travelling alone in my mind so much so that anything less than amazing would be a disappointment.
The minute I stepped off the bus into the big, grey city of Philadelphia I was convinced that I had made a terrible mistake. Was I really just going to wander around aimlessly for two days with nothing but my own thoughts whirling round and round my head? I held onto the fact that I was there for a purpose, I was going to see Dead and Company, and no matter how awful the rest of my trip was, I would at least have that.
So I set off exploring, meandering my way around Chinatown and Reading Terminal Market before trekking over to the Museum of Art to get an iconic photo of the "Rocky" steps which, ironically, mean absolutely nothing to me as I have never watched any of the films. From there I walked along the Schuylkill river, and, sitting on the bank, I contemplated my trip so far. I had been in Philadelphia for just three hours, walked about four miles through dreary streets, and was now sat on my own looking out over a miserable grey river. I wasn't entirely sure why I was there or whether I liked cities or being on my own all that much at all. My internet wasn't working, so my navigation skills were being stretched to the extreme, the sky was dark but the weather was weirdly warm and sticky and it felt like I was going through the motions, getting the photos so that I could say that I did this great trip to Philly. Why was I actually there? One of the reasons why I had always wanted to travel on my own was so that I, selfishly, didn't have to do all the things that I didn't actually want to do but felt obliged to do, but yet here I was in Philadelphia and I had gone straight to the top places on trip advisor, found the perfect place to take a selfie for instagram and seen the sites that I felt obliged to see.
I decided to go and find my hostel so that I could check in and do some of the work that I missed out on by skipping my classes, so I wrestled with my phone until I found the route and set off on the hour walk back across the city. The streets felt more familiar as I wandered around a second time, the city a little more approachable and friendly, and I was determined to try and enjoy my trip. After I checked into the hostel, I went straight to the dorm to find a bed, do some work and use the wifi to plan my route to the Wells Fargo Center. I walked in and a girl looked up from her bed and said a quick 'Hi' with a smile, and I mumbled something awkwardly in reply, staring at the floor. As I started to unpack I was kicking myself, why was I so awkward and useless at social interaction?
After sorting out a lock and pretending to work on my assignment, a new girl came into the dorm clutching a multitude of bags and smiled at me. Determined to do better this time, I started to talk to her about her trip, just mundane things about how long she was staying and where she had been and what her life was back home, and I found out that she had ran the New York marathon and was now on her way down to Miami to meet up with friends before flying out to California. She was easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in my year abroad, and it was just so nice to be able to share the things that I had done that day and that I was going to do and laugh about silly differences between here and England. I almost wished that I was able to go on the bar crawl, and felt for the first time how fun it would be to get fully absorbed into hostel life. But, alas, I had a concert to attend, so I wished her good luck with her trip and left to go find food and to take the subway to the gig venue.
Although it was early, I thought I'd save myself the stress of the subway and go to the venue first and then get some food once I got there. I plugged in my music, listening to John Mayer to get me in the mood, and managed to get there way ahead of schedule and got into line with the rest of the crowd. Looking around, I knew that I had got myself into something special. Everyone, and I mean everyone, was wearing tie dye, a lot of women wore swirling long skirts and children were decked in tulle and floral head pieces. Those who had chosen more somber attire wore Grateful Dead tshirts from various eras, I felt pretty out of place in my leather jacket and jeans. The queue stretched around the building and it was still a long time until the concert started, so I stood there on my own with my headphones in, very aware of how alone I was. Waiting around is never fun without friends to talk to, joke with or moan to about how long you have been waiting.
Someone came up to my section of the queue and asked a question, so I took my headphones out and turned to the guy behind me and shrugged. In the most cliche sounding way, that one tiny interaction changed my entire night. The man in question was on his own, about my age, ridiculously tall, wearing a Dead and Company tshirt, and he asked me if I had ever been to a Grateful Dead show before. I explained how I was studying over in the states for a year, saw they had a show in Philadelphia and decided to come down as I only lived in Bethlehem. Suddenly, he got really excited and it turns out that he also lives in Bethlehem and is studying for his masters at Moravian, which is the other college in our town!
We started talking and he told me that he had been to see Dead and Company earlier in the week at Madison Square Gardens and that they were really good and how much he loved John Mayer. It was nice to find someone to talk to and fill the time in the queue with, but I realised that once we got into the venue I probably would never see him again. Then, as we started moving, he asked me where my seat was and I told him it was one of the cheapest, behind the stage, right at the back. Out of the blue he offered me his spare ticket in the eighth row! It turns out that his brother was supposed to come with him but couldn't make it and he couldn't find anyone else to drag along, so did I want it? I didn't want to be too enthusiastic, so I played it cool and told him that if he was sure then I suppose I would take it...
All of a sudden I had a friend, albeit one that I didn't really know anything about, and we ate together, watching a surprisingly good Grateful Dead covers band, chatted about life in Bethlehem, the crazy outfits everyone was wearing, university and anything we could think of really, before going into the arena and enjoying the awesome show. Some people have asked me since why I trusted him, but somehow I just knew he was a good guy. We ended up taking it in turns to buy rounds and danced along to all the songs that we didn't actually know any of the words to, every so often turning to each other and fangirling about how close we were to the stage and how we could even see John Mayer's fingers moving! The tickets were way better than either of us thought they would be, directly stage left of the band, with the perfect view. We chatted and joked with all the people around us about how amazing the band were and how great John Mayer was. He offered to drive me back to Bethlehem at the end, but I explained that I was staying in Philadelphia, so we parted at the subway station and, though I doubt I will ever see him again, I was so glad to have someone to share the experience with.
The gig itself was unlike anything I have ever seen. I have seen John Mayer play twice before, but the atmosphere at Dead and Company was on another level. Everyone was standing up from the very first song, and it felt like we were back in the seventies, smoke swirling around the stadium as everyone danced and swayed sometimes in time and sometimes out of time to the music. And somehow I just didn't care that I didn't know any of the songs. I have been listening to so many in preparation, but somehow I managed to miss all but one of the songs they actually played. But the band were just incredible, the solos insane, the chemistry between John Mayer and the remaining Grateful Dead members was electric. My favourite song was Casey Jones, which they ended the first set on, and I have been listening to it on repeat since then.
On Friday, after dragging myself out of bed hungover and checking out just in the nick of time, I decided to do exactly what I wanted, so I went to South Street and ate cheap diner food, went shopping on Chestnut Street for hours, got another piercing (don't worry, Mum, it's not an exciting one, just another hole in my right ear) and had an hour long massage in Chinatown. It wasn't glamorous or historic or particularly photo worthy, but it was fun. Philadelphia slowly started to feel like my sort of city. I caught the bus back in the evening and I felt so happy that I went, ready to try backpacking on my own and embrace hostel life and the crazy experiences it brings, and glad that this year has given me the opportunity to try the things I've always wanted to try.
My trip was only two days, but I think I now realise why people travel on their own and why I want to travel solo in the future. In all my self absorbed lamentations of loneliness as I rambled around the city, I managed to confuse being on my own for being alone. I was never alone, I was in a city surrounded by people, people just like me with places to be and stories to tell who might be just as relieved as me to have someone smile at them or laugh with them about the subway system or sit with them at a concert. Travelling solo forces you to open yourself up to people, to make connections with people you would never have thought you would connect with, to share experiences with those around you. It's simultaneously entirely selfish and entirely selfless. And I'm glad I didn't give up at the riverside at the first hurdle. This post has been long and rambling and I'm pretty sure my point got lost somewhere along the way, but I wanted to write it anyway. I wanted to share it with you, just as I am learning to share my experiences with those I meet on the way.
Until next time, Philly.
