After a morning in Salem,
we spent the rest of the day, driving in rain,
to our next destination, Philadelphia.
It was a bit of a scary arrival
and a scary stay.
When we arrived in the area of our home,
we stopped at the local grocery store
and got a little taste of the area we were staying in.
At ‘Spend a Little’, we were the only white folk in the store.
This is merely a fact – we stood out, big time,
and drew a lot of unwanted attention.
We were harassed going in and coming out of the doors
by people wanting money.
(This was common at most supermarkets,
but there was a much bigger group at ‘Spend a Little’,
and a handful followed us to our car.
Now we didn’t run but we didn’t dawdle either!)
Then, driving up our street, we saw drug dealers on the crossroad corners.
(We’re guessing drug dealers,
but whatever they were doing they were bad guys
as we saw the police arresting them the next evening).
Given that we were staying on the same block as those blokes,
and that it was night,
we got our luggage out of our car in record time!!
So, sorry no pictures.
But I did take pictures of our pretty home.
It didn’t look like much from the outside,
(and to be honest, I didn’t look that first night),
but it was a lovely home inside.
This was the view we saw as we
ran calmly walked
through the double door air lock entryway.
It looked small from the outside,
because it was so skinny,
but the depth of the house made up for the skinniness.
We’re guessing that the room in the foreground
was the whole of the downstairs in the original house.
Can you see where the floor changes colour?
Everything in front of that change
seemed much older than everything else.
This is looking down into that front foyer room.
As you look down through the rooms,
there was the lounge area
and at the end the kitchen.
This was the kitchen.
That’s the backdoor over in the corner.
And, the other view of the kitchen
reveals a door to a little ‘restroom’.
In the corner of the lounge, there was a door down to the basement.
That was just creepy so we stayed out of there.
Upstairs there were three big bedrooms
and a large bathroom,
(hard to photograph,
but on the whole other side of the bathroom was a massive shower,
the length of the whole wall!),
all connected by a gorgeous hallway.
(I love that exposed brickwork!).
Just another view,
standing in the front bedroom,
looking down past ‘my’ bedroom,
all the way down the hall,
past the bathroom,
to the ‘boys’ bedroom.
Oh and look.
We found a bit of Australiana.
This was ‘my’ bedroom.
Just outside of ‘my’ window
was the neighbour’s back porch and yard.
One wouldn’t worry about a thing like that
unless the neighbours were big on parties.
And joy of all joys, they were. Midweek parties even!
They were so close to our window, we could hear everything they said.
Oh it was a colourful evening.
Sometimes there was singing in rounds
(they were brilliant singers!),
sometimes there was screaming and cursing
(and at one point it sounded physically violent
with broken glass and knocked over tin cans),
and other times it was all lovely dovey and peaches.
It was a roller coaster evening,
but we got used to the flashing lights of Time Square,
so we were veterans of sleeping through anything.
In the morning, I peeked out the front window
to get a shot of our surroundings.
This was a view of the backyard
from the porch.
As you can see from the neighbours’ yards,
(and yes that is barbed wire you can see for some fences)
we had the nicest yard.
The men wouldn’t let me outside by myself,
so I had to satisfy myself with quick snaps
as we were coming and going from the house.
This was the view from our front porch,
showing all of the neighbours’ porches.
This was taken on our ‘quick, let’s get to the car’ walk.
And this was the view of the other end of the street.
On our final morning in the home,
I begged hubby to escort me across the road,
(I threatened to go alone, otherwise)
and snapped this picture of ‘our’ house.
Looking at the picture now,
I’ve just realised that there was a third floor!
We never even saw the door to the third floor!
Wow! Now I want to go back and have a look!
Oh and in case you were wondering,
Philadelphia has a pretty bad crime reputation.
In 2016, so far (mid-April), 74 people have been murdered.
On a list of top 100 most dangerous cities in the US,
(number 1 being the worst),
Philadelphia ranks 65th most dangerous,
with a ranking of 10 out of 100 for safety,
meaning that it’s safer than only 10% of US cities.
How’s that for comforting.
(Although Washington was only safer than 3% of the US,
and I walked all over that city for a day by myself.)
Despite the crime rate,
we particularly like this rowhouse.