Awoke this morning to what my sleepy mind thought were a series of gunshots (I’ve got to start giving this place some credit), which turned out to be large cracks of thunder, marking the start of a wet day. After grabbing some breakfast in the hotel lobby (hotel is excellent by the way, the boutique Alexander Inn, 100% stay here if you come to Philly) we headed back to the Independence National Park in the pissing down rain to jump back on to the tour bus.
Our first stop was the Philadelphia Museum of Art (which was closed) where those famous steps Rocky went up were to be found. Obviously from the naff picture , you can see what we got up to, before I advantageously ran up the 70-odd steps just as Sly did in Rocky I, II, III and V (if I’m right?) before looking like a right fool jumping up and down with fists in the air at the summit. Normally I wouldn’t display such public shows of bellendism, but it was raining quite hard and there was nobody around. The view of downtown Philadelphia from the top of the steps is immense, an unforgettable sight.
Waited for what seemed an eternity for the next bus to come and take us to the Franklin Institute Science Museum. Before we got there, the bus tour showed us some of the things we missed yesterday. The most poignant part was perhaps the housing areas of West Philadelphia. Talk about the tale of two cities. A bit off the beaten track, West Philadelphia is run down and very intimidating to the unlearned tourist. I can see why Will Smith’s Mum (Mom!?) told him to move to his Auntie and Uncle’s in Bel Air after getting in one little fight. Anyway, the Franklin Museum features an impressive statue of the equally as impressive Benjamin Franklin, which met us in the spectacular entrance hall before we were then greeted by a huge throng of overexcited schoolchildren in the main space. This place is basically a massive interactive indoor science playground for kids, but despite its size, each exhibit was crammed wall to wall with the little gets, so much so it got a little too much for the senses. An unreal and almost endless museum nevertheless.
Fortunately the bus swung round as we got out of there and took us back into town. The International Irish Dancing Championships are in Philadelphia this week (the first time it has been held outside of Ireland I’m told) and the city is full of American people who think they are Irish (the Potato Famine and mass emigration happened in 1845 remember!?) Actually, New York was the same. There are loads of Irish pubs scattered about these cities, full of tat and people that wouldn’t know their arse from their Wicklows. One Irish pub’s collection of predictable tat had differentiated itself from the others in the area by having a large plastic Native American bust outside (!?). I was toying with the idea of standing Small Irish outside Independence Hall with a sign round her neck reading “Genuine Irish Person” and charging tourists $10 to have a picture taken. Could have made a definite killing there.
Walked in the gardens of Independence Hall where the Declaration of Independence was read out to the people of Philadelphia, marking the beginning of the United States as the rain cleared and the sun came out. From there, we walked into the odd and rather haunting Washington Square. During the Revolutionary War, the park was used to bury the many dead in mass graves as well as others caught up in the conflict. It sounded pretty horrific judging from the placards detailing the events around the park. Also here is a statue of George Washington and the resting place of the Unknown Solider. The Unknown Soldier was one of many unidentified dead, slain during the war, but is the only body to remain in the park after excavations. I’m a bit of a partial sceptic when it comes to ghosts and the like, but the weird yellow orb on the picture (click on it for a bigger version) that’s showing is a little strange (or just a bad exposure maybe?)
After eating one of those famous Philly Cheesesteaks yesterday (and not thinking that much of them), we caved into the unanimous recommendations from almost everyone we’ve encountered to go and visit Jim’s Steaks on the bohemian/chic part of town known as South Street. They were truly awesome, much better than that shite we had yesterday. Huge steaks are placed on the grill in front of you, shredded, thrown in a bun, covered in Whiz (that’s a gloopy American cheese, not urine) and decorated “Wid” (that means with onions). You’re supposed to ask for a Cheese-Wizz-Wid, but my British accent would just make me look daft saying that. The restaurant features autographs of all the famous film stars and U.S sports stars who have visited this Philly institution down the years (Bruce Willis, John Candy, Danny Glover to name a few) as well as a placard featuring a bloke who holds the record for eating the most in an hour (14, by some greedy bastard I don’t know the name of).
Headed back to the hotel before nightfall and stumbled across the amazing ‘Magic Garden’ by accident. This house and adjoining garden is completely covered in a myriad of mirrors, murals, junk, bottles and allsorts – the whole place! Simply amazing.
That’s about it for Philly. We leave for Washington D.C tomorrow, feeling completely relieved we’d worked this place into our tour. Forget the crime statistics and the reputation – Philadelphia is an amazing city and hugely integral to the make-up of the United States. Got an email tonight saying that our train from Buffalo to Boston later on in the trip has been changed to a bus. That’s 12 hours I’m not looking forward to. Let’s see if I can manage to keep my possessions intact at the train station tomorrow.
