THE JOURNEY BEGINS The date was August 4, 1879, a wide range of feelings went through my head; I was anxious and vexed. I had recently gotten a cable from America, and however the exact words of the cable did not survive transit a certain statement caught my eyes. The statement had read that F., someone near my heart was ill and, along these lines, that she had contracted 'brain fever.' After three days, I had gathered my bags, obtained cash from a few companions, and slipped to the nearby port city, Glasgow. On August seventh with only a little more than 200 dollars in my pockets, I left on my ten-day excursion to the United States upon the steamer, Devonia. Not long after we dismissed the Scottish drift, Devonia conflicted with unpleasant …show more content…
The city I found myself in was unfamiliar, a jigsaw of streets that fit together into one giant maze. Making my way around the narrow pathways, searching for a decent place to stay, I recalled the array of passengers I met on board the ship. They were knowledgeable and almost all of them were kindhearted, I remember having the chance to have many long and intellectual conversations. My first morning in the states I was awakened by a boom; signaling the coming of the day. Breakfast was delicious, my first fulfilling meal ever since I left Scotland. The next train heading west wasn't set to leave until the following day so I had chosen to spend my free day doing tasks. My first need was to go to the mail station, where a cable from Fanny's guardians laid in understanding holding up. The rain descended harder than it did the prior night, I couldn't manage the cost of an umbrella so on a day like that where it rained hard I needed to discover cover. I gathered my cable from California; 'I should hurry' it said. 'F. has inflammation of the brain.' My anxiety for my lover was increased. I immediately raced to the closest bank and traded my British pounds for the American cash and purchased a ticket at the railroad office. The Pennsylvania Railroad around then had as of late purchased various other railroad lines, making it possible for one ticket to cover a trip from New Jersey to Chicago. Whatever is left of my day was …show more content…
From time to time the train would briefly stop, to let on and off commuters, mail, and packages. Other than those short recesses the train halted another large number of times. For some reason the train halted all of a sudden and remained as such for thirty minutes. Like that, few miles later, the train froze once more, that time not moving until dark that day. Because of a variety of disasters on the tracks, our train was delayed a number of times. -CHAPTER
When the day came to leave I was woken at the crack of dawn. I was keen to get to Blackpool as swiftly as possible, not only for the football that was ahead of us but also for the famous Pleasure Beach. The coach picked us up at around 8 am and in we crammed into an already full coach. The journey down was full of laughter and friendly joking from the parents. That day, it was particularly hot and inside the coach a number of people were becoming uncomfortable. I was unaffected by the warmth inside the coach, with my earphones in I relaxed and paid more attention to the vast countryside we were passing through. The vivid scenery blew me away, with colossal hills to calm rivers that we met on the journey.
Before beginning the research for this work, I had planned on producing a paper and presentation which detailed the history of open sea navigation and the difficulties and dangers which would have faced sailors and seamen during the Age of Discovery. My premise was that we, living in the twentifirst century, had lost touch with the reality of just how hazardous a voyage such as that undertaken by Columbus was. I had hoped to be able to capture for the listener and reader a sense of wonder at the bold willingness to risk life and limb that was demonstrated by the explorers of this era as they left the safety of the waters and oceans that they knew, to challenge the unknown. I had wanted to capture that feeling of stomach-dropping fear that I believed these brave men must have experienced as the headlands they were leaving slipped out of sight below the horizon, possibly never to be seen again. Had I been successful in writing such a paper, I would have succeeded not in exploring history, but rather in producing fiction.
... who settled on Manhattan’s Lower East Side, where we could see packs of books telling the stories and experiences of past immigrants. I felt the rush and the excitement that characterize the city, but I also couldn’t get enough of the multiple cultures in New York. One would spend days and weeks in the “City that Never Sleeps” but still, it would take many more to truly experience every aspect of it or understand how the diverse ethnicities were able to survive and succeed there.
Catherine Haun wrote a detailed account of a morning were she woke with overwhelming emotion and dread, “When I woke the next morning a strange feeling of fear at the thought of our venturesome undertaking crept over me…. It was a restful scene- a contrast to our previous day of toil and discomfort and caused me to break completely down with genuine homesickness and I burst into a flood of tears…” (Haun 168). When wagon trains left there was a possibility they would never come back, leaving most of their belongings and families.
Stepping out of my first plane ride, I experience an epiphany of new culture, which seems to me as a whole new world. Buzzing around my ears are conversations in an unfamiliar language that intrigues me. It then struck me that after twenty hours of a seemingly perpetual plane ride that I finally arrived in The United States of America, a country full of new opportunities. It was this moment that I realized how diverse and big this world is. This is the story of my new life in America.
I wake up to the sun shining through the window and the faint laughter from my family downstairs. It's the first day of our annual trip to Rhode Island. I lie in bed for a few moments and think about one thing. Rhode Island. I wouldn’t rather be anywhere else than here. I glance at the clock and it is only eight in the morning, but everybody is already up, enjoying breakfast, and getting ready to head to the beach. It's not supposed to rain until later in the day, so hopefully we can enjoy our day at the beach before it rains. I eventually make my way out of bed and tiptoe across the frigid wood floors and join my family downstairs. Everybody is up except my brother, Thomas.
I walked around unsteadily all day like a lost baby, far away from its pack. Surrounded by unfamiliar territory and uncomfortable weather, I tried to search for any signs of similarities with my previous country. I roamed around from place to place and moved along with the day, wanting to just get away and go back home. This was my first day in the United States of America.
The Arapesh are known to be gentle, sensitive to others, and cooperative. In class, they were described as friendly and supportive as well as trusting. An example used was of a child running the perimeter of town and receiving support from every adult. They all treated this one child as their own and the atmosphere was so pure and positive. I must admit however this example lead my mind off track and into a sort of dream. With this concept I raised three questions. If these people only know the trusting world they live in, how can they travel the world? If everyone lived in this society, could there be such thing as a perfect world? Lastly, I found myself wondering if I would want to live in a world where I trusted everyone.
I can hear the hum of taxi cabs whizzing past me as I stand on the corner of the busy downtown street. New York City! I still can't believe that I'm here or that I'm staying here. Aunt Allison was so sweet to let me live in her place whilst she travels around south America. I step out onto the road when the traffic light changed from green to red.
The powerful Irkalla class warship cruised easily through the vacuum of space, passing by a nearby White dwarf, the glaring white paint upon its blackened hull bearing the words ‘The Sutherland’ came into view as the weaponry along the beaten and bruised craft bristled menacingly yet at the same time with a deadly beauty. As it passed the star, light began to shine through the darkened, grimy windows into large empty halls. Inside, Argyll stirred uneasily in his bed, knocking the sheets off and jolting upright while panting heavily as a cold sweat ran across his body. Argyll was a tall and well-structured male, who looked around uneasily as he slowly let out a sigh before closing his eyes as he slowly rested his head on his hands, shaking violently. He began to run his hands through his long, unkempt hair breathing in the, metallic air as he kept his eyes shut tight. Hell. This is the one word the marine
A Railway Investigation report by the Transportation Safety Board of Canada had been filed on September 3, 2006. The train had been en route from Skagway, Alaska to Log Cabin, British Columbia. As explained in the report, the train had been overweight as there were eight loaded ballast cars plus four employees. It is noteworthy that the locomotive engineer was quite mindful of the speed of the train. His attempt to decelerate the train had been unsuccessful as the speed went from 10mph to 20mph in a matter of time.
Now her father and the people were calling out for the usual foot-race, when Hippomenes, a descendant of Neptune, asked for my aid, as a helper: ‘Cytherea, I beg you to assist my daring, and encourage the fire of love you lit.’ A kindly breeze brought me the flattering prayer, and I confess it stirred me, though there was scant time to give him my help. There is a field, the people there call it the field of Tamasus, the richest earth in the island of Cyprus, which the men of old made sacred to me, and ordered it to be added to my temples, as a gift. A tree gleams in the middle of the field, with rustling golden leaves, and golden branches. I came from there, by chance, I was carrying three golden apples I had picked in my hands, and I approached
Upon arrival into the jungle of vast buildings, the first thing noticed is the mobbed streets filled with taxi cabs and cars going to and fro in numerous directions, with the scent of exhaust surfing through the air. As you progress deeper into the inner city and exit your vehicle, the aroma of the many restaurants passes through your nostrils and gives you a craving for a ?NY Hot Dog? sold by the street venders on the corner calling out your name. As you continue your journey you are passed by the ongoing flow of pedestrians talking on their cell phones and drinking a Starbucks while enjoying the city. The constant commotion of conversing voices rage up and down the streets as someone calls for a fast taxi. A mixed sound of various music styles all band together to form one wild tune.
Walking, there is no end in sight: stranded on a narrow country road for all eternity. It is almost dark now. The clouds having moved in secretively. When did that happen? I am so far away from all that is familiar. The trees are groaning against the wind’s fury: when did the wind start blowing? Have I been walking for so long that time hysterically slipped away! The leaves are rustling about swirling through the air like discarded post-it notes smashing, slapping against the trees and blacktop, “splat-snap”. Where did the sun go? It gave the impression only an instant ago, or had it been longer; that it was going to be a still and peaceful sunny day; has panic from hunger and walking so long finally crept in? Waking up this morning, had I been warned of the impending day, the highs and lows that I would soon face, and the unexpected twist of fate that awaited me, I would have stayed in bed.
We finish what we start. This was the motto that kept me going during the strenuous training period for a marathon. But prior to that, I must confess, I wasn’t an athlete. I was never interested in playing sports, except for recreational badminton. During gym class, I would walk three quarters of the time when it time for the dreaded mile run. I preferred staying indoors and sitting on the couch and watch movies. The first time I had heard about a marathon training program, called Dreamfar, in my school, I thought to myself, what kind of crazy person would want to run a marathon? Never did I realize, eight months later, I would be that crazy person.