Hello everyone and best wishes from the history-soaked city of Philadelphia. The chronicler is lucky. The fall from the amiable relatives' household into the normal hotel world was gentle. He is in a spacious hotel room furnished with old Italian furniture, on the fifth floor, quiet, with its own large balcony.
It is in the centre of the old town and is affordable. What was missing yesterday was made up for this morning: a group photo.
Grand cousin Nyasha, daughter Nomsa, dad Alain
The chronicler had company today. Vance, the visitor from yesterday, you remember 10-40-50, accompanied him. Or rather, pulled him to just outside the big city.
Right at the beginning, he took the chronicler on a tour of the Princeton University campus where he teaches. An old, venerable, huge complex, a small town in itself, where the chronicler definitely didn't want to live. It was 75 kilometres to Philadelphia, not much. But after the long start yesterday and that bumpy canal-side path again, he sank into a sunlit armchair at his destination, feeling pretty exhausted. It was next to the Independence Building at a busy crossroads.
An independence tea at Independence Square
The trademark of the bar to which the armchair belonged was the music: Philly sound up and down. A style of music that people from this city coined in the early 70s and made famous worldwide. Some will know what it's all about, others can listen to it here:
And those who can, dance a nice two-step nightclub to it.
In terms of presidents, the chronicler doesn't have much to offer today. One successful attempt and one unsuccessful one. Nevertheless, they were intense. Katie professed to be non-religious, but eventually understood the intention and came up with 10-20-70.
Her important message was that this special American electoral system was flushing people to the top that nobody actually wants in this case. The chronicler surmises from the other comments that many people will go to the polls with long teeth! He had no success with the Italian-born landlord of his large Italian room. He kept asking if the chronicler was recording the conversation and wanted to look into his mobile phone and his dented glasses case. No, the chronicler's question was an inadmissible mix-up, after all, everyone believes something different. His Georgian employee believed something different from him and the chronicler something different again. The latter could not really understand the evasive behaviour.
What happened to him today, which was quite unusual, was that he had time to spare. He was already there at three o'clock in the afternoon, the next act won't happen until nine o'clock tomorrow morning, when the Greyhound is supposed to take him to Ebensburg, the small starting point for the big city of Pittsburgh. He could still walk around here or go to the famous art museum. But he hasn't slept enough for that, far too little over the last three nights, which, oh wonder, doesn't really make a difference. In Ebensburg he will have free time again because the bus will be there at three o'clock in the afternoon, but the third stage won't start until the following day. He'll think of something.
Thanks to everyone for being there, whoever is at the other end. Good luck and good night.
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