Flight from Washington DC to Buffalo, NY.
After meeting Jon’s mom in San Diego, she graciously offered for me to come and visit Buffalo anytime. I am sure she didn’t intend for me to essentially live there merely weeks after the offer. Jon and his mother were incredibly sweet for letting me crash at their place for a month. It is hard to believe it has gone by so quickly. It seams like just a few days ago I was on a one-way ticket out of DC. I am incredibly grateful for their kindness and generosity. Thank you Jon for sharing Brutis(the dog) with me.
left: On the Metro to the airport in DC. right: Brutis cuddled on the couch.
I turned to Jon, as we drove through downtown, “Where are all the people? Are they hiding from us?” He responded, “This. Is. It.” The downtown is made up of a desolate spread of empty brick warehouses. San Diego has restaurants on restaurants, while Buffalo has empty warehouses on warehouses. Going to the bars was an experience as well. In San Diego one can barely find room on the sidewalk to stand. I counted 9 people on the sidewalk in Buffalo all night. Hard to believe, Buffalo was once neck and neck in population with Huston, New Orleans, and Pittsburg. Smirk. Once a booming downtown, full of life and energy (or so I’m told). Perspective: Buffalo’s downtown is quite a bit larger in mass than San Diego’s, yet San Diego easily houses 4 times as many people.
Cheeburger Cheeburger. A local Cheeseburger chain similar to Johnny Rockets.
You never really went to Buffalo, if you don’t go to Schwabls, so say Bryan Acomb and so say I. Schwabls is a small converted cottage, in which you could span your arms and hit both sides. Home of Buffalo’s beef on weck and waitresses wearing what seam to be nurse outfits. Easily described as frozen in time, 1837 time. My beef on weck was as good as the hype, and made up for the very slow service. Thank you Bryan Acomb for the recommendation.
Schwabls, home of Buffalo’s beef on weck. NOTICE: no picture of beef on weck, due to inhalation upon being served.
I am no aficionado of buffalo wings, the’re just wings to me. However going to Buffalo without trying Buffalo wings is like going to Paris without seeing the Eifel tower, London without Big Ben, or Athens without the Acropolis. Anchor Bar is home of the ORIGINAL Buffalo wings. Or, that is just what they said on their menu every 4th word. Although I would never say it in Buffalo (for fear of being exiled) but they were just buffalo wings. I fear the special ‘right of passage’ with buffalo wings was wasted on me.
Anchor Bar home of the original buffalo wings.
International Driving Permit. Just in case.
Chow Chocolate. Really good cup of coffee. mmmmmmmmmmmm
I am not an author. To be quite honest, I always hated English class. I write so I may share my experiences and remember the man I met on a bus who treated me to dinner with his family, paying and booking a hotel only to find out its out of business, fake crying in the Athens airport to get a ticket home, or remember the strangers who looked out for me on a bus. Some live, experience, and are fulfilled by what’s in their backyards. I find there is something truly exhilarating about cramming as many possessions into a bag as possible, only to complain you brought too many. This is my life out of a suitcase, hope you enjoy.