Movie World

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Here's the long, long overdue final blog! Yes, we're home now and for once I've had unlimited time to finish the blog, however if I waited too long I'd never do it. After 5 months, travelling felt like it was everyday life and now we're home, I wish we’d gone for longer but there's only so much one can afford! Jessie however, is mostly glad to be back; maybe her travel bug has been squashed! Not that we both didn't have an amazing time... so I wrote two and a half years ago! Here it is finally completed; hope you enjoy what I have endured to finish after much procrastination.

So then, the good old U S of A. Very much the modern world. The cities instantly drew images from the movies we'd grown up with, as did the natural wonders of the Wild West. On our first night we stayed in the Mission area of San Francisco - a very Spanish inhabited district with lots of Latino style frescos painted on the buildings and palm trees lining the streets. The restaurants consisted mostly of expensive tapas bars where unusually for America; you had to buy several items to feel like you had had a meal. Most American restaurants serve very large portions and have the good fortune to offer unlimited free refills on soft drinks. It does however go some way to explaining why so many people over there are so fat and there is the ever encouragement to eat crap. Trademarks fill the streets ever encouraging you for a quick feast or snack and for once I didn't feel so bad having a McDonalds - I mean at least I could say I was eating food introduced by the country, traditional American food maybe (?!)...er even if I was guiltily giving back to 'the man'! While we're on the subject of food, obviously donuts were a readily available gas station snack but what about Reese's Peanut Butter Cups (!) - why these delicious chocolate covered peanut butter gems haven't been properly introduced to our country I don't know?!

From San Francisco, we joined our pre-booked Trekamerica tour, something that would later prove to be a rather large mistake. We met our fellow tour mates (3 other English, 2 German, 2 Swedes, 1 Italian and 1 Kiwi, all in their 20s or 30s) and leader Pat at 7:30 on our first morning before disembarking for Yosemite National Park in our big new white American Ford van which tightly squeezed us in with a trailer hooked on the back to carry the luggage and camping equipment. Our first stop was a walk, sorry 'hike' (however how small a walk, it's a hike in America!) around a grove of Giant Sequoias (aka Giant Redwoods) - the largest trees in the world! Coastal Redwoods (further north California) may be the tallest, but by sheer volume these are the largest and the girth of their trunks can grow to over 100ft! Very tame chipmunks lined the paths - a common site in North America's national parks, as are the squirrels which despite the presence of bears, cougars and rattlesnakes - are said to be the most dangerous of animals, often biting unwitting tourists who try and feed these seemingly friendly little critters and then they have to go and get jabs from the ranger.

The following day we were left free to explore Yosemite via the use of the national park's shuttle bus system - a regular 5 minute interval loop transfer which would drop you off at various points where you could start your hike. Yosemite is a particularly stunning part of the Sierra Nevadas, characterized by its sheer and bare faced granite monoliths which are surrounded by thick pine tree forests and gushing waterfalls, it is possibly the most beautiful of America's national parks. However there is a downside, as with many of the North America's national parks, there are too many tourists. Plus we were visiting at the height of summer and the buses were full despite their frequent service and we could find ourselves often cueing up for posed pictures in front of some of the many views. So many views! This park was seriously giving my camera a workout burning up the pixels! The views kept on coming and coming and getting better the higher we climbed. Mules being led along the paths would add to the ambience and often a squirrel would pose for another photo. You seriously have to watch them if you decide to bring out a packed lunch though, Jessie unwittingly put a banana down right by her side to have one cheeky bugger take a bite out of it!

Driving made up the majority of the next day, continuing through the Sierra Nevadas with brief view stops and a short hike. As we continued to find on the trip, we were often at a very high elevation above sea level. However, if it wasn't for road signs, we may well often have been oblivious. This drive was particularly scenic, especially the Tioga Pass which is the highest road through the Sierra Nevadas, reaching over 3000 metres at one point. To put that into perspective - the highest point anywhere in the UK is Ben Nevis and its peak is only a mere 1344 metres, Scafell Pike (the highest in England) isn't even one thousand metres. We briefly stopped for a short hike at a large monolith that we were hoping to climb, but due to our tour leader's lack of knowledge/good instruction, only managed to half circumnavigate without finding a safe route up its steep bare surface. Frustratingly we returned to the van to find no one else in the group had managed it either. However, on venturing into the undergrowth for a quick call of nature, we spotted a Marmot - a mammal described as a large ground squirrel that looks like a cross between a squirrel and a beaver. After crossing from subalpine into desert territory we stopped for the night in the small town of Bishop. From here we took a short journey to some natural hot mineral pools where we unwinded before heading out for bowling after tea and finishing the night at a bar.

The trips longest drive (over 300 miles) took up all of the next day until we got to camp, cruising along the 'UFO highway' into Nevada and through the Great Basin, a huge expanse of semi-mountainous desert where the dead straight highway leads as far as the eye can see and the sight of a corner leads to remarkable mention. The highway passes closest to the fabled Area 51 hence its nickname and joking aside UFO's are regularly spotted. I didn't take our trip leader too seriously though when he told us to keep a look out, but low and behold we actually saw one! Well it was a round silver metallic object flying in the sky that could not be identified by type, so by that summarization it was a UFO! We briefly stopped at the Lil' A'le'inn (get it?) in the tiny middle of nowhere town of Rachel for refreshments and extra-terrestrial souvenir browsing on our way to Cathedral Gorge State Park where we were camping for the night. With a feeling my day had not been fulfilled, I couldn't just laze around camp for the rest of the evening, even if the majority of the rest of group could. I had to feel like I had done something, apart from just travel. Fortunately our campsite was in a sublime location. Oddly eroded sandstone formations marked the first true feeling we were in the Wild West the silver screen had often denoted. Jessie was too tired but the Swedish couple in our group joined me for a hike to the view point often stopping to admire the strangely shaped eroded columns and spires (in places appearing like organ pipes, hence the park’s name possibly?), multi-layered colours of the rock surface and the odd cave to clamber into. Meanwhile Jessie had spotted a scorpion by the tent. The evening ended with 'smalls' roasting on the open campfire. Smalls are marshmallows with melted chocolate between two wafer biscuits. Why they're called Smalls you ask? Because you always want s'mall!

Now you may be reading this and thinking it sounds like we were having one hell of an enjoyable adventure. Unfortunately that is quite far removed from the truth at this point. When we booked the trip before coming away we had a lack of experience of travelling alone abroad and our independent sense of freedom had yet to be truly ignited. When it came to America I was unsure and lacked confidence in independently travelling the whole three weeks and I was wrongly led to believe it was a hard struggle to spontaneously ruck up anywhere and find accommodation, even if it wasn't a country where you can park up a campervan legally and safely anywhere for the night. My safe upbringing had led me to compromise in booking a tour for the majority of the time in the USA. However, by the time we had travelled around both Australia and New Zealand together alone we were seriously questioning whether we'd made the right choice. Unlike Africa, we were now in the western world and here it was comparatively easy and reasonably safe to get around. Unlike America, in Africa and Thailand I wasn't constantly looking out the window and thinking 'I could be driving this, in a convertible like Thelma and Louise!'. The better the scenery the more and more frustrating this became. In truth, being back on a tour was crucifying me. I was waking up depressed, desperately longing for my freedom, exacerbated by not going exactly where I wanted, stopping unnecessarily or not stopping enough. In the evening we'd set up tent but unlike Africa, here it was far more of a chore. Maybe we'd become too used to the comfort of resorts and hostels or the ease of sleeping within a campervan but the novelty factor of camping had worn off. Plus it all seemed to take too much time frustratingly, not just setting up and putting down the tent but with only a driver-leader (and no cook) we had the task of preparing the meals or washing up the dishes along with the fact that every other day we had to go shopping to buy the meal ingredients. This took a wearisome amount of time out of the day - time that I could be using exploring. Additionally despite us being average age on the trip, there was an overwhelming sense of being mollycoddled by our inexperienced 23 year old tour leader, being told where to go, having to be at places for certain times, told to put your seatbelt on every time you got in the car and not even being allowed to go off for a short walk/hike alone (you had to go in at least pairs)! The Americans are obsessed with safety (probably for the worry of being sued for almost anything) and safety was impounding our sense of adventure. I realize that I'm being negative about a lot of things that have to be implemented into group travel but after travelling alone, we'd made a mistake, an unforeseen huge mistake and we had to do something about it.

From the second day I'd been talking to our tour leader about getting off the trip and over the following two days had finally decided it was the right thing to do, encouraged by the fact that now Jessie too felt unhappy being locked in a routine. Even her more chore practical nature had been rendered by the everyday habituals of the camp. We'd spent a lot of money on the trip but it was maybe a once in a lifetime opportunity so it had to be enjoyed. From Cathedral Gorge we got dropped off at Cedar city, the next city on the tour route that could get us a Greyhound bus back to Las Vegas where we had rearranged the car hire time from. Despite our unhappiness with the tour, we'd met some lovely people on the trip whom we'd become friendly with so after a heart felt goodbye we got a lift to the bus station. That would be the last time we'd be told to put our seatbelts on!

Fortunately we arrived just in time to catch the bus leaving for Las Vegas. We were the last on and failed to find two seats together, though in this case, it was a bonus. 5 minutes on that bus and we already felt like we were experiencing far more of the real America than anything we had done in the last long 4 days on the tour (it felt like a week and a half!). Walking up the coach, the sheer variety of racially and culturally mixed people opened our eyes to the depth of the poorer half of the country. I found a seat next to a guy called James, a 43 year old ex-con ex-punk tattooed ex-junkie who had a hell of a lot of conversation and experience to share from his checkered past. He'd just visited his 25 year old daughter in Cedar City and was heading back to his beach house in LA. Being very happy to advise us on our upcoming visit to Las Vegas, he warned us to be wary of 'street people' off the main strip, "they're either hookers, smack heads or scammers and they'll f***ing rob you". Ironically he was one of those people to be wary of, though he claimed he was 'reformed'. I don't know how much we could trust him but he sure was a nice guy and even invited us to his house if we were passing and gave us his number to call if we ever ran into trouble! Jessie on the other hand sat next to a miserable Mexican girl who was completely ignorant of her company. That's Americans for you though; they seem to be either very friendly or not at all to the point of being almost ill-mannered. Fortunately I'd say the majority fall into the former category. They have a open confidence which allows them to immediately speak direct to you upon walking by and an inquisitive nature to learn about where you're from in a refreshingly uncynical manner. The English, of course, are more reserved than that, though I'm hoping we could learn from this.

We were actually very lucky we caught the bus that day, as it was actually running late, due to an old lady with dementia sat directly in front of us. She didn't know where she was going and she didn't know who to trust. What she was doing on a bus alone was a mystery. We ended up making an unscheduled stop to get her off the bus. Though this was no easy task and it took about half an hour persuading by a greyhound staff member and James to get her to move, moments short of having to call the police. This all added to the adventure though, something that ended up being quite a show!

Arriving in Las Vegas was possibly the biggest culture shock we'd had (or certainly at least since arriving in Victoria Falls). The place is literally unreal. A man-made paradise of breathtaking hotel casinos smack bang in the middle of the desert form what is widely known as 'the entertainment capital of the world'. The hotels really have to be seen to be believed, each having their own theme, from a Disney wonderland castle (Excalibur), Egyptian pyramid (Luxor), The Venetian (which features a bridge over a canal complete with gondolas), Circus Circus, and New York New York to name but a few. With such a wide choice to choose from we relied on our taxi driver’s knowledge to take us to a hotel which was a) reasonably cheap and b) either on the main strip or very near to it. We ended up at Hooters, whose theme (if you hadn't already guessed!) was that of skimpily dressed attractive young girls with tight tank tops that err, accentuated their ample bust-line. Sex sells and there's no better place than Vegas to embody this! Our hotel was right opposite the MGM Grand - the largest hotel in the world - and literally just off the main strip, which we started exploring from the south tip, starting at Mandalay Bay. Each hotel is more like a resort or complex and they take some exploring, as well as the casino they may offer shopping malls, an aquarium, rollercoasters, fine dining, live music and theatres. Mandalay Bay's theatre was currently showing The Lion King and as Jessie had long wanted to see it, we bagged ourselves a couple of cheap last minute tickets. The show combines the music of Elton John with an African chant style by Hans Zimmer. The use of Xhosa language combined with the actors all in African animal costume brought fond memories of Africa flooding back to us for what was a very enjoyable and larger than life performance. The show finished around 10:30 but the night was still young, very young in fact for we were in 'the city that never sleeps'. Continuing up the strip we next explored New York New York. Not only does the outside resemble the famous New York skyline (complete with the Statue of Liberty) but inside as well, we found recreated New York streets from the 1930s era and an old pub - like so many around the world, an Irish one. I also went on the Rollercoaster, one that looped the loop inside and out of the building at up to nearly 70 mph! Again, not something I could convince Jessie to join me on. Further on, more and more famous hotels loomed - The Bellagio, Caesars Palace, The Mirage and finally the Venetian we explored before turning back around and arriving back at our hotel not until half past four in the morning! Even at this time traffic still filled the streets and crowds ambled along them, some carrying colourful cocktails as they disregarded the time, partying into the morning!

Vegas happened to be also the hottest and driest place we'd been with temperatures soaring as high as 110F (43 Celsius) the next day. After breakfast on the strip we took a bus to the Liberace museum, a lavish exhibition of the entertainer and pianist's cars, pianos, jewellery and costumes. Liberace or Mr Showmanship as he was known, was the highest paid entertainer in the world from the 1950s-70s (yes, even more than Elvis and the Beatles) and he loved to show it off, as the museum testifies. Little did we realize how heavy some of his costumes were - some of the cloaks he wore to come on stage weighed more than the man himself (one over 200lbs) and it was only through keeping very fit that he managed the strain. After trying on a lighter costume (its 40lb still seemed very heavy), and after having to sign an indemnity form and wash my hands, I got the chance to play the last piano the man ever performed on, a rhinestone encrusted Baldwin grand, quite a privilege! Later that afternoon, we explored further on up the strip, stopping to see a free out-door pirate show at Treasure Island, complete with choreographed scantily clad women and two life size pirate ship replicas with fire and explosions. We also explored Circus Circus - a hotel casino modelled on a circus with again, a free show. That's the thing with Vegas, you don't have to spend loads or gamble to have a good time - there's so much free stuff to keep you interested all day and night. Next up the strip was the Stratosphere, another hotel casino but also the tallest observation tower in the US. It was amazing to see 'the city of lights' at night from such a sheer height and make out all the notable landmarks. Not only this, but located from the observation deck are the three highest thrill rides in the world - the highest and most terrifying being 'the big shot' which vertically accelerates you at an astonishing speed up to 329m (1081ft) to nearly the top of the tower, where you are left suspended overlooking nothing but the city - a phenomenal expansive sight at night with so many lights beaming. I may have done a bungee and a skydive, but this still made me scream like a little girl! Despite being half past one in the morning, we carried on up the strip, catching a bus to the downtown area, the oldest part of the city, centred on the Fremont Street Experience. This is a pedestrian mall with a feel of days gone by in the form of more traditional Americana casinos and bucking cowboy and liquor bottle glowing neon lights. The mall's main attraction is its canopy, 1500ft in length, which displays a huge sound and light show every hour from 8pm up to midnight. Unfortunately we missed it this night, but there was one very obvious activity which we had still not succumbed to - gambling! I'd learnt from past experience its dangerous and addictive nature but how could we come to Vegas and not have a little dabble at least?! So after finding a roulette table in the Fremont Street Casino, I decided to strictly set our limits - $40, leave if we double it or leave once we lost it. Annoyingly, after being twice up $30 we lost it! Oh well, at least we could cope with that amount and we weren't going to risk anymore. After getting the bus back to the opposite end of the strip where we were staying, we again didn't get in till 4:30am.

The following morning we were due to pick up the hire car at 10, so we didn't get much sleep. A taxi took us to the airport car hire and I had to stand in an hour long queue before getting to the desk. We had pre-booked a Chrysler Sebring Convertible, my love of cars and the American dream roadtrip portrayed by Hollywood had inspired me to do it 'properly', even if we were on a budget! However, once at the desk I was informed of the Sebring's lack of boot space due to the fold away roof and suggested I upgrade to a Ford Mustang Convertible. The modern version of the car of my dreams! I had to do a reality check - could I really be getting such a car? After checking availability, the check-in guy left me deflated after informing me there weren't any left. Bugger. I would have paid the extra and I even had a practical reason to back up doing so (ha, like I was bothered by the boot space)! We went up to the multi-storey car park, where we were to pick up the car and waited in another bloody queue at the office before being informed what to do. Pick a car! That was basically the gist of it. It was very unclear and an amazingly casual affair but after being pointed to where the convertibles were we just had to pick one which had the keys left in the door. Would you believe it, but there were no Chrysler Sebrings and two dazzling Ford Mustang convertibles! Racing blue or silver? After rushing around the racing blue model, I was in my element to find the keys in the door, ready for the taking. I was like a dog with two dicks! The lack of a Sebring meant I didn't have to pay an upgrade fee either, I couldn't believe my luck! The new Mustang is particularly stylish because unlike past incarnations, its design pays homage to the original sixties model. After getting used to the controls, we took the roof back and I fired up its 4 litres of American muscle before exiting and stopping at a gas station to pick up a map.

So then, 2 weeks left and a dream American roadtrip in a dream car, some way to end 5 months travelling! Upon leaving Vegas we stopped off at Hoover dam, about 30 miles out of the city. The dam forms Lake Mead, controlling water supply as well as power to large surrounding areas. Upon creation it was both the world's largest electric-power generating station and the world's largest concrete structure. However, the tour was an overpriced, overcrowded and over-touristy affair which made us once again feel like controlled sheep. Time to hit the open road. Route 66 to be more precise, for we were heading for Flagstaff, a convenient stopping off point for the Grand Canyon.
"Get your motor runnin'
Head out on the highway
Lookin' for adventure
And whatever comes our way
Yeah Darlin' go make it happen
Take the world in a love embrace
Fire all of your guns at once
And explode into space"
'Born to be Wild' appropriately blasted from the speakers as we were "racing with the wind". After getting used to left hand drive, the Mustang was the easiest thing I'd ever driven. As most cars are in America, it was an automatic and also featured traction and cruise control so I could rest my feet entirely. The bonnet's bulge would suddenly lift upon tapping the throttle and I found myself doing 100 mph without even noticing, something I had to watch for, or at least keep an eye out for parked up speed cops! We conveniently found a cheap $45 hostel double for the night in Flagstaff and then explored the town for food and found a karaoke bar after.

After breakfast provided by the hostel, we set out for the Grand Canyon's south rim, 80 miles north-west of Flagstaff. First, however we stopped for the helicopter flight I had pre-booked. Again, despite being annoyingly overpriced it was possibly one of those once in a lifetime events which companies get away with charging you a fortune for. $155 each was the very cheapest option, which Jessie declined; worried about getting sick again on a small flight and it was a lot of money to spend in doing so! I enjoyed the 25 minute flight and it was the best way to take in the Canyon's sheer size but I almost felt like I'd seen it before due to the amount of pictures I'd seen of (what is probably) the most famous natural wonder in the world. Spectacular it was, spectacularly overpriced, maybe? We continued on through the gates of the National Park and eventually found a parking space along the road with the place being over burgeoned with tourists. Like Yosemite, shuttle buses transported hordes to the popular viewpoints and walking spots. After strolling along the edge we asked at the tourist info about which hike to choose and were gladly recommended a hike down into the canyon that despite being one of the most beautiful, was away from where most of the crowds went. After about an hour’s hike down, we spotted a small hut that Jessie optimistically hoped was a toilet so we walked over to it and looked around in search of an entry point. All of a sudden we heard a noise, a noise that in retrospect sounded very much like a rattle.... 'what's that' I said, looking for the noise we heard. Extremely suddenly we jumped back for the noise was far closer than expected, for on looking immediately straight down we saw a coiled up rattlesnake by our feet, shades of brown in colour which camouflaged it perfectly, blending it in with the sandy dirt. Never had we jumped back in such abrupt alarm but in retrospect I wondered if we had done the right thing? Remembering what the snake handler in Katoomba (Australia) had said - if in strike distance (of which we certainly were) you should freeze and let the snake move around you as if alarmed it may strike out of fear! Oh well, we must have been lucky for this was certainly the closest we'd come to danger on our five months of travelling. Fortunately as the snake was out in the open away from the foliage we kept a long close eye on it and filmed it as it made its way around the hut. After walking to the edge of the canyon drop I made Jessie take a few pictures of me daringly sat on the edge with a deadly drop below me - the sort of picture you need at least one of on an adventurous world trip!

Lightning struck dramatically in the distance as we drove back from the Canyon after darkness. That night we stopped in Williams on Route 66 (about 40 miles from the canyon), after finding any closer motels ridiculously overpriced due to their convenience. However Williams had all the allure of what is synonymous with Route 66 - rows of cheap motels with the odd old school American diner sandwiched in-between and decorated inside with metal trademark signs and outside featured a hotrod above the entrance. I haggled to find a cheap motel for $50 for the night. The next morning we drove back out to the Canyon and walked along the other side of the south rim often using the bus shuttle service at our convenience. I thought such a wonder of the natural world was worth a second day to experience despite our tight schedule. We continued in the afternoon to Monument Valley (about 200 miles away) and eventually found a Motel about 40 miles further on in the small town of Bluff after the nearest town, Mexican Hat had no vacancies.

Another one of my most highly anticipated highlights, Monument Valley didn't fail to disappoint. The epitome of the Wild West, we felt like we had just entered the set of a John Wayne western with the jawdroppingly iconic backdrop of the many sandstone buttes - eroded towers of rock, each with their own irregular characteristics. On the way in I pulled the Mustang off the long almost never endingly straight highway to savour the famous iconic site from the roadside - the one seen in all the pictures and the one seen in my favourite movie, 'Forrest Gump'! Those familiar with the film may remember it as the exact place where Forrest, with a long entourage of followers, suddenly decides to stop 'running'. Fittingly that was where I decided to stop and take a picture. When we got to the visitor's site we had the choice of an expensive guided tour around the valley on the back of a safari type pickup or make our own 'self-drive' way round on the very bumpy dusty road in our low-slung Mustang! Myself being the adventurous type decided to take the latter, especially after my fiancée’s reminders that we'd spent enough already! One of the guided tour pickups twice stopped to shout to me "I want your car", a rather dubious claim as I pussy footed it over the uneven surfaces that he had literally cruised over. However I was very glad we had taken the self-drive option for not only do I love driving, especially in such new scenic territories, but it meant we could take our time as much as we liked. There were many native Indian stores to stop at on the way selling dream catchers and jewellery that often featured the turquoise stone, plus at one point an old native Indian on a horse perched atop a rocky platform, in what was the epitome of an iconic western setting. So I went up to him and for a dollar or two, he let me sit on his horse and have my picture taken - John Wayne eat your heart out!

Quickly moving westwards - these massive straight roads in the middle of nowhere are perfect for finding out your vehicles top speed, unfortunately/fortunately the mustang was limited to only 116mph! We stopped for the night at Page, a town on the edge of Lake Powell - a reservoir formed by the Glen Canyon dam on the Colorado river and setting for the original Planet of the Apes. After a stop at the carwash to clean off all the desert sand from Monument Valley's self-drive, we visited the lake - beautiful azure waters backed by the interesting backdrop of the canyon sandstone that forms various buttes and arches in the middle of the desert. We drove down to the very sandy beach to take a dip and cool off from the very hot sun and found RV after RV (many as big as coaches) lined up along the sands full of holiday makers.

Crossing from Arizona into Utah we arrived at Zion National Park where we took a shuttle service into the National Park's most prominent feature, Zion Canyon, 15 miles long and up to half a mile deep, cut through the reddish and tan-coloured Navajo Sandstone. There we took a hike to 'Angel's Landing', a rock formation that gives a spectacular view over the canyon, after a slightly hair-raising climb up featuring ladders, chains and vertical drops on both sides. By the time we returned from our hike and got the shuttle back to the car, darkness had fallen and we drove out under a clear starry sky, so brilliantly twinkling in fact that I decided to put the hood on the car down. Zion like many of America's west National Parks features many an arch and tunnel made through the sandstone rock, adding to their scenic wonder. The Mustang's engine note is yet another wonder to be appreciated and the sound of that 4 litre V6 doesn't get much better than when's it's amplified and echoed going through a tunnel in the rock! As it was now late, we rarely saw another car and it seemed like we had the road out the park pretty much to ourselves. I stopped the car as we entered a tunnel and revved it up in glee before flooring it pedal to the metal, relishing the sheer power and grunt of boyhood dreams and masculinity personified and echoed throughout the tunnel!

After struggling to find a motel with a free bed nearby - not only was it holiday season but the government had decided to give free entry to all its national parks over the weekend (a good thing in that we didn't have to pay a second time, after these fees had already been included with the Trekamerica tour!), we drove a while before finding a room in a cheap gas station motel in Panguitch not far from our next destination, Bryce Canyon National Park.

Bryce Canyon which, despite its name, is not actually a canyon but a giant natural amphitheatre created by erosion and is distinctive due to featuring geological structures called hoodoos. Hoodoos are tall, thin spires of rock unevenly shaped rather like totem poles that protrude from the dry basin. The red, orange and white colours of the sedimentary rocks provide spectacular views and the uneven characteristics add further interest, forming views equal to the Grand Canyon in sheer epic scope and wonderment. We took a hike into the 'canyon' to marvel these formations and stopped for a picnic with an inquisitive little chipmunk. Unlike many of the previous national parks we'd been to and despite also having a bus shuttle service, visitors are free to self-drive around Bryce, so we explored others areas with the Mustang.

The big lights loomed once again as after our round trip around the wild-west we were heading back to the Californian coast. However, I was very easily tempted back to Las Vegas first for another night en route. After taking a scenic country road from Bryce back to Cedar City we were back on a massive highway south-west to Vegas where we arrived around sunset - the dazzling lights and huge hotels didn't fail to impress once again as the highway followed the strip. We pulled in at the Hard Rock cafe for dinner, bought a couple of merchandised T-shirts before checking out the Hard Rock hotel opposite complete with huge glittering Fender Stratocaster outside that put the Australian 'big things' Hard Rock guitar to shame. Inside we were impressed by the sheer amount of rock 'n' roll memorabilia (famous instruments and clothing used and worn by stars of the last fifty years) and leggy pole dancers and scantily clad ample chested croupiers that may have sweetened ones luck or lack of it. Moving on to the 'old' downtown area we checked out the Fremont Street Experience we'd previously missed which was tonight displaying a sound and light show of the American glam rockers 'Kiss'.

After breakfast on Fremont Street, shaded from the baking hot sun, we got back on the highway for a nearly 300 mile drive to Los Angeles, crossing the Mojave desert and stopping for lunch at a really authentic 1950s style diner at a place called Yermo. Peggy Sue's 50's diner had been restored to its original state and featured all the Americanisms and old movie and music memorabilia you'd expect. Vinyl counter stools and booths, a real 50s jukebox, a 5 and dime store and good and simple 50s themed home cooked food was on offer, it turned out to be a real find. Driving into Los Angeles as expected, was a bit of a hassle although it was probably the first time that our sat nav had come into decent use, so at least we had that to ease our way. We made our way first for Hollywood Boulevard, checking out the Walk of Fame with its street theatre, movie character impersonators (I posed with a Freddie Kruger), entertainment museums and not only the celebrity star pavement blocks that coin its name, but blocks with stars hand, foot prints and signatures set in them.

After a night stopping in Hollywood we continued our celebrity indulgence with a long drive around Beverley Hills. Nowhere in the world (I'm guessing) has so many celebrities living together in such close proximity, literally a huge estate of mansions. Again, the Mustang was just the car for the tour, a convertible almost a necessity in such surroundings, looking up at the tall palm trees that lined the streets reminiscent of 'Fresh Prince of Bel Air' (a neighbouring suburb of Beverley Hills). With so many celebrity homes in such close proximity we were a bit stuck on where to start and were on the lookout for a map guide. However, by complete chance we found the most eminent property almost immediately; the verge outside was lined with flowers and memorials plus a security black Mercedes parked in front of the gates advertised the fact that this wasn't just any celebrity home, but the home where Michael Jackson had died less than 2 months previous. A constant bustle of people stopped to pay their respects and a camera crew pulled up as apparently there was to be an announcement surrounding the circumstances of his death. By no surprise, here we found somebody selling a map to all the hundreds of celebrity homes in the area. A self-tour ensued where unfortunately we could only see the gates of the most notable celebrity homes - the Beckhams, Tom Cruise, Ringo Starr etc etc. Mostly the ones we could see belonged to relative nobodies, but were still very impressive nonetheless.

In the afternoon we went to LA's famous beaches - Santa Monica and Venice; hiring out bicycles to take us between the two and stopping to browse the market stalls. Santa Monica is also home to a 'Bubba Gump' store which has a restaurant and merchandise devoted around my favourite movie Forrest Gump! In the evening we drove out of LA, stopping off at a Mexican restaurant on the way to our next destination, Santa Barbara, where we eventually found a motel for the night.

We literally had gotten the last room available and unfortunately this was right next door to the reception, meaning we were rudely awoken by an extremely camp gay receptionist in conversation with his new assistant. Now I usually sleep through pretty much anything and I would usually find such overt campness semi-amusing but when you can hear every word through paper-thin walls and your sleep is being reduced by a couple of hours - it really pissed me off! Anyhow, after refraining from complaining and grabbing a self-serve tea and waffles we explored the very pleasant, affluent and Spanish influenced Santa Barbara. Starting with the Courthouse, like many of the towns buildings designed in a Spanish Colonial Revival style with white walls and red tiled roofs. We arrived in time to catch a tour with a fairly elderly gentleman who turned out to be so inspiring that after ten minutes we were the only two left following him and by that point were too polite to leave! Later that afternoon we looked around the unfortunately largely fire destroyed botanical gardens and later the Mission which had hummingbirds hovering round the gardens! Continuing north, after stopping at a strawberry stand for the biggest and freshest strawberries we'd ever tasted (the area is covered with strawberry fields), we stopped at Cambria for the night, finding another cheap motel before finding a diner for dinner.

The next day we first looked at Hearst Castle by San Simeon to decide it was too expensive and we had enough other things to do, so continued onto a large elephant seal colony. One of the largest seal species, the male can grow up to a length of 16 feet (4.9 m) and a weight of 6,600 pounds (3,000 kg) - they're especially ugly but interesting looking creatures, a large proboscis (where they acquire their name) is using for making particularly loud noises. Watching them cover themselves in sand and struggle to move on land is rather amusing, especially when they slide on their bellies down the sand into the water after forceful belly shuffles to set them in motion! Continuing on up the coast we reached route 1's most renowned stretch - Big Sur - this is where the winding coastal cliff roads are at their best. A dream route for a driving enthusiast - the only downside was being stuck behind slow traffic, when I wanted to enjoy the handling of the Mustang (resulting in even deliberately stopping to let the traffic in front get ahead!). Our next stop was Monterey - the original capital of California when the Spanish first emigrated in the 18th century. After marvelling at the harbour's vast quantity of jellyfish and grabbing a traditional American meal (McDonalds) we (or I) were lucky to find that today there was a classic car show in the centre of town. Corvettes, Camaros, Cobras, Ford Thunderbirds and plenty of old Mustangs to boot - a fantastic array of American classics to behold. In the evening we sampled some of the town's fine seafood on Fisherman's Wharf. The wharf - a sort of large pier that featured numerous souvenir shops and seafood restaurants where waiters unashamedly fiercely competed to lure in the most customers - they even had meals made up on display at the entrance to show us exactly what we'd get (half a lobster as I recall).



The following morning we looked around Monterey culminating in the State Historic Park, its museum being housed by the Custom House which was the first historic landmark and is the oldest public building in California, built in 1821. The curator pre-empted the fact that being a Brit, I wouldn't be too impressed by this, and especially after I told him the pub I lived in was older! This however, is about as old as USA history physically gets. Continuing on our journey north we passed through San Francisco (to later return) and inland to the Napa and Sonoma wine regions. In doing so we experienced a drastic temperature change, while in San Francisco it was a cool 60F (15.5C) and even a bit nippy on the highway with the top down (having to turn on the heater to compensate for this), while in the space of less than an hour's journey and about 30 miles inland to the Napa valley the temperature had soared to over a 100F (38C) and we put up the roof to prevent sunstroke and turned on the air conditioning! We stopped at tourist information in Napa to pick up a map before exploring various wineries for tastings. The area was absolutely covered in vineyards dotted with picturesque Mediterranean style terracotta and white buildings baking under the hot sun.



Returning to San Francisco, we entered over the iconic Golden Gate Bridge; despite being shrouded in fog (as is often the case) it didn't fail to leave us a little awe struck. Off the cuff as ever, we hadn't booked a room for the night and we had a job cut out in finding a cheap one with parking in the height of tourist season. Therefore what ensued was a self drive tour of the city, or more specifically its accommodation. As could be predicted the most desirable spots were booked up, but we did eventually find a cheap room (the Oasis Inn, roughly £45 a night) in the centre of town with underground secure parking. In a sense we may have got lucky, however we had ended up in the Tenderloin district - so called because back in the days when police had to walk the beat, in this area they were rewarded for having to do so by being given the best cuts of meat. It is repeatedly described in most tourist guides as "the worst neighbourhood in San Francisco," being full of drug dealers, addicts, prostitutes and mentally unstable street people, we were sure to watch our backs - especially going out that night to find food at a Thai restaurant (good food and particularly cheap and fairly friendly). Its central location however proved ideal for commuting to the friendlier tourist spots and we couldn't find any real fault with the accommodation, for all we were really interested was a room to sleep for the night. Here we stayed for our final three nights.



The next morning we drove a few blocks down to tourist information by Union Square but with parking extremely limited/expensive (as half expected), we decided it best to drive back to the hotel and do everything by bus and foot. Plus the one way system in the city is notoriously frustrating and debilitating to the tourist or even commuter, though the remains of the city's famous tram system makes things slightly easier in places. Up first was a walking tour of Chinatown - the oldest Chinatown in North America and the largest Chinese community outside Asia. Popularly known as a "city-within-a-city", we soon became immersed in a microcosmic Asian world. It has developed its own government and traditions with two hospitals, numerous parks, squares, temples, over 300 restaurants and as many shops (the music shop being of particular interest) - many with pagoda roofs. Continuing walking we stopped for some lunch at the original and famous Caffe Trieste in North Beach. The cafe's Italian-American owners have been serving up coffee there since 1956 but more notoriously the family and friends perform music on a regular basis - or as our Lonely Planet guide directed us, on a Saturday afternoon - even old Mama and Papa (who were well into their 80s) sang for us. The walls are scattered with the famous faces that have drunk there, in particularly Francis Ford Coppola who supposedly wrote the Godfather here. After looking inside a very ornate and large white catholic church (with a very long white Hummer limo parked out the entrance), we walked up to Telegraph Hill, where Coit Tower sits atop offering superb views over the bay and cityscape - if you can be bothered to stand in the enormous queue to climb up at the height of tourist season (a limited number of people are allowed up at the same time) - we couldn't and instead just looked over the bay to Alcatraz (the notorious prison island) from atop the hill. Back down the steep streets that are again famous throughout Hollywood movies, most notably the legendary car chase in Bullitt, we moved onto Lombard Street which has THE steepest street in San Francisco. Consisting of eight tight hairpin bends surrounded by rhododendron gardens, a procession of cars continuously crept down, halted by a tourist stopping to make too much of the location only to be quickly moved on by traffic cops controlling the flow of traffic at the bottom of the illustrious street. Next up was Fisherman's Wharf; one of the busiest tourist areas, along the north western neighbourhood of the city. Its biggest draw Pier 39, consists of a shopping centre with restaurants (plus another Bubba Gump store) and street performers lining the pier, but more interestingly, a huge colony of California Sea Lions hauled out on the docks of the marina. Literally hundreds of them - in fact in November of this year (2009) a record 1701 were recorded. Why so many of them have migrated here since 1989 is a little unclear - the main suggestion is that they are drawn to the safety of the bay - away from predators such as the Great White Shark. After walking back towards North Beach and grabbing a bite to eat, we got a cab back to the hotel to change and check out what entertainment was locally on. Tracy Chapman was performing at the fabled Fillmore Auditorium a few blocks west so we quickly got a cab to see if we could get a ticket, but to no avail - not only was it expectedly sold out, but strangely there wasn't a tout in sight to get a late deal from. Instead we walked just along the street to the Boom Boom Room, a neon lit dark and moody music venue with cocktail bar. There we saw Wil Blades Soul Solution - a funky soul band with brass led by Blades on a B3 Hammond organ. Very tight and groovy but with little vocals got a bit samey by the end, plus what Blades lacked in charisma he seemed to make up for with full of himself arrogance, showcased when a couple of drunk bimbos tried to grab his microphone for them to be angrily shouted down.



"If you're going to San Francisco be sure to where flowers in your hair" Scott McKenzie famously sang in 1967. It was possibly this as a child that led to my grown perception of the city's laid back hippie image and its place in pop culture made it one of my most desired places to visit. On our second day in the city we wanted to try and embrace the hippie side - or what little remains of it - so drove west to Haight-Ashbury - the area in 1967 where 100,000 people converged, creating the cultural and political rebellion that was the 'summer of love'. This was the epicentre of the hippie movement, a defining moment of the 1960s which brought this counterculture to the forefront of public awareness. The Haight-Ashbury community rested on a rejection of American commercialism and formed a ghetto of bohemians within a melting pot of psychodelia, drugs, sexual freedom, communal sharing, creative expression, politics and (of most importance to myself) music - being home to Janis Joplin, The Grateful Dead and Jefferson Airplane. The area still maintains some of its bohemian ambiance, with the streets lined with colourful and independent clothing boutiques, booksellers, head shops ('smoke shops' that sell drug paraphernalia) and record stores (proper old-style ones that sell actual records!). Nearby to the neighbourhood is the huge Golden Gate Park which we next explored and found still to be the hang out of the odd group of hippies making music. Within the park we also explored the charming Japanese Tea Gardens (with interesting features such as the drum bridge and tea house) and the modern and ugly De Young Museum - though mainly for its observation tower (the Hamon tower) which gave us a good panorama of the general area. After walking back to Haight-Ashbury, we drove to the Golden Gate Bridge - the most photographed bridge the world over that we had yet to really appreciate. This time it wasn't shrouded in fog and we stopped to gaze at the last inspiring landmark of our five months of remarkable travel before walking across it (about a 25 minute walk each way/1.7 miles in length) in awe upwards of the huge vermilion (officially 'international orange'😉 pylons and below of the huge drop to the rough sea scattered with many swiftly moving windsurfers. Teatime was approaching and we had been invited to the house of one of Jessie's old school friends, Elle Brockman, who is now married and living here in the south of the city. Elle's parents Pat and Pat (who live in Hagley and are also friends of Jessie's mum) were also visiting and insisted we visit Elle and Tim (and coincidentally themselves) while we were here and so we text to arrange to meet and had dinner round their house, for what proved a fairly enjoyable yet slightly bizarre way to spend the last evening of our travels - with people we only really half knew. We left around ten-ish in the search of a music venue or place of vibrancy to finish off the night. However with it being a Sunday, nothing of much interest was really happening and we ended up just driving round the city on the look out to no avail. The odd bar with live band wasn't enticing enough for us to stop and besides I was quite enjoying the last of making the most of the Mustang and our freedom to explore, driving around with no real focus, just taking in the moment of the subdued city at night.



We had the next morning free to do our final something before having to return the car for 1pm and so decided to drive across the Golden Gate Bridge again, to the pretty little settlement of Sausalito - a harbour town literally just over the bridge with great views across to the city, Alcatraz and the headlands. After wondering the streets and marina, we sat down by the harbour to muse the setting and the sad fact that we were going home. Coincidentally, this was the place where Otis Redding wrote (Sittin' on) The dock of the bay but unfortunately we had no time to be 'just wasting time' and had to get to the airport. One last drive across that amazing bridge and through to the south of the city, before returning the car and catching the sky train to the airport terminal. Our thirteenth and final flight awaited as we hauled our heavy ruck sacks to the departure lounge - there we saw (half expectedly) Elle's parents again, as they were going back on the same flight. So many places over 5 incredible months had come to an end and the predictability of England loomed with mixed emotions. Our 11 hour flight back to Heathrow left at 3:30pm (San Francisco time) and after erratic sleep and catching up on the latest in-flight movies for the last time in a while, we arrived back at 10:30am (London time - 8hrs ahead). England was as gloomy as it often is - the weather adding to the feeling of the mundane. However I do remember being impressed with the view of the Thames - spotting the Millennium wheel, O2 arena and Big Ben/Houses of Parliament as we came down for the landing. From arrivals, we had one last struggle with our bags to the National Express coach departure hall, where we boarded for Digbeth, Birmingham - another two and a half hours sat half awake before being greeted by my parents. Back to reality, I felt I had so much to tell them yet it was hard work when feeling run down and struggling for a word in edge ways with my mother, who to be fair already knew the majority of our goings on through these very travel blogs.



And now two and a half years later I've FINALLY completed this final blog I'm relieved to write! It seems impressive I actually managed to keep up to date with all the other blogs on our travels - ok none of them are as overlong as these 9685 words, but having limited time at a internet cafe really makes you concentrate and focus on getting them finished. A combination of initial jetlag, procrastination, having to remember everything again and mindless distractions have all taken their toll on getting this completed, but now it's off the backburner and in the bag. A few questions to conclude (and self indulge!), listed for ease:

Favourite city: Cape Town and Las Vegas (completely different, so hard to choose one)

Favourite country: New Zealand (followed by Thailand)

Favourite experience: Snorkelling with Manta rays, Fiji (followed by elephant jungle hill tribe trekking, Thailand)

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