BEDA #16: Uplifting Passages

The bus trip from Denver to Frisco was uneventful except that my whole soul leaped to it the nearer we got to Frisco. Cheyenne again, in the after noon this time, and then west over the range; crossing the Divide at midnight at Creston, arriving at Salt Lake City at dawn - a city of sprinklers, the least likely place for Dean to have been born; then out to Nevada in the hot sun, Reno by nightfall, its twinkling Chinese streets; then up the Sierra Nevada, pines, stars, mountain lodges signifying Frisco romances - a little girl in the back seat, crying to her mother, 'Mama, when do we get home to Truckee?' And Truckee itself, homey truckee, and then down the hill to the flats of Sacramento. I suddenly realized I was in California. Warm, palmy air - air you can kiss - and palms. Along the storied Sacramento river on a superhighway; into the hills again; up, down; and suddenly the vast expanse of bay (it was just before dawn) with the sleepy lights of Frisco, festooned across. Over the Oakland Bay Bridge I slept soundly for the first time since Denver; so that I was rudely jolted in the bus station at Market and Fourth into the memory of the fact that I was three thousand two hundred miles from my aunt's house in Paterson, New Jersey. I wandered out like a haggard ghost, and there she was, Frisco - long, bleak streets with trolley wires all shrouded in fog and whiteness. I stumbled around a few blocks. Weird bums (Mission and Third) asked me for dimes in the dawn. I heard music somewhere. ' Boy, am I going to dig this later! But now I've got to find Remi Boncoeur.'


Sometimes you read a passage and you just stop and think, wow. This passage from chapter 11 of On The Road by Jack Kerouac did that for me. I loved On The Road, and I adore California, so this description is absolutely magical to me. It captures the essence of all that is magical about arriving in a new city. The realisation that you've made it after such a long journey, seeing the landmarks that you've seen on television and in films so many times up close for the first time. Or even returning 'home' after a long absence and feeling that old, familiar feeling of nervous excitement that is characterized only by that place. The anticipation, waiting on the edge of your seat to disembark and every moment lasting an hour. Then finally stepping out, savouring the air at the other end and feeling elated to be back.

That is why I love California so much and that is where I will pick up tomorrow.

Have you ever read a passage and stopped to read it over a few times? Please do share!

Until tomorrow!
Nicola x

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