24 Sept: Flagstaff to Page (Antelope Canyon, Horseshoe Canyon, Lake Powell)

Brekkie in the morning was at the Toasted Owl cafe. It was a very cool place with owls and owl things everywhere. Everything was for sale, even the light shades (of which there were many). Kevin was our waiter and we waited often. A lady at the table opposite us was  doppelgänger for Carla (Fairy Princess Stardust) and so I tried to take a few sneaky peak photos. There was also a toddler, who was cute the first couple of times he came over but the shine wore off after that. It was a really good brekkie though, and we enjoyed our time there, even if Kevin took twenty minutes to remember to bring a takeaway box.

We went for a walk to find Mark a real coffee, and got to see a little more of the town itself. Some nice little shops, but because it was a Sunday morning, nothing (well, almost nothing) was open. We found a cafe, Mark got coffee, my ankles remained warm (an inside joke), the trains remained long (another inside joke) and the weather apps were up to date (yet one more inside joke. Mark’s feet will always be hot (the last inside joke). 

After brekkie with Shea, we headed off on the three hour drive to Page (which is really a four hour drive due to a daylight saving change. Page is only small and there are only so many hotels you can choose from. This has probably been the dodgiest hotel we’ve stayed in (aside from that one where you couldn’t lift your arms up in the shower at Pompeii). It looked all nice and modern, but then the bed was a think mattress and you could hear absolutely everything that happened in the next room, which included snoring and toilet habits. TMI? Yeah, it was for us too. But anyway, that was at night - I have the whole day to explain first.

So Page and the Navajo camps can be on different times. We had to work out which we were on - my watch said one thing, the iPhone said another, and it ended up being my watch that we needed to go by. So we had enough time up our sleeves to have a quick lunch and freshen up before the tour. We found a cool little crepe cafe and shared a crepe of raspberry, banana and almonds smothered in whipped cream and melted chocolate. Yes, it was good. Mark tried for a coffee again, I think he’ll give up soon enough. 

We went for a quick drive to check out Lake Powell. It has a dam and was quite spectacular to see. It’s obviously a popular spot for boating and fishing. It was bloody big, that’s all there is to say. 

On to the tour. we jumped into the back of an open truck that had a row of seats on either side facing out towards the landscape. Somehow, I ended up in the very end seat, which I guess has given me a get-ready for the roller coaster at Disneyland. It was bumpy and dusty and I thought I would fall out on more than one occasion. Luckily for me, they’ve been doing this a while now and haven't lost a customer yet. Rosie was our Navajo tour guide and she grew up in the area and seemed a bit tired and a little cranky to start with, but we worked out that was more about a rather stubborn Chinese lady than anything else. 

We arrived at Antelope Canyon - we didn't really know what to expect. We’d seen a heap of photos online, and they all looked very professional. We weren’t ready for a place that made taking a bad photo impossible. There was a crack in a big rock, and that’s what we walked in to. I don’t know how to describe it, you’ll just need to look at the photos. I can only say, I wish I had worn sneakers as the dirt/dust was very fine. We wound our way through the canyon, a crevice in the rock is probably the best way to describe it. Rosie said that the canyon was formed by water rushing through. She gave us a demonstration later with some of the sand outside and Mark’s water bottle. Again, it’s hard to explain. Anyway, the swirling, rushing water wore away parts of

the rock, which exposed the layers of rock that have built up over thousands of years. A bit like the rings on a tree. The water comes through with such forces that it washed away some scientific cameras that had been screwed into the rock face. The colours on the rock face were amazing and they swirled in different ways. Each twist and turn revealed different patterns, one spot was called a heart (because the shape of the rock created a heart shape), another was an eye, another created a flame. At some points, it was narrow and we had to go through single file, but I didn’t once feel claustrophobic. Rosie showed us some great photo spots and angles and at the end, took one of Mark so that it looked like he was holding a flame (THE flame). Rosie normally does photographic tours so I think we got very lucky. 

I feel like I should be able to write more about Antelope Canyon, but it’s one of those places that is more seen and felt than something that can be put into words. The photos don’t do it justice, but then again, the photos are amazing.

After the canyon, we took off to see Horseshoe Canyon before sunset. We’d seen a mile of cars there on the way in to Page and thought we wouldn’t make it back there until morning, but we had some spare time. We found a park (amazing in itself) and walked up the steep hill with everyone else. We got to the top (very exciting when you reach a crest) thinking we’d be at the canyon, only to find that it was a climb down almost twice as far and twice as steep. Oh well, what can you do. we made or way down, and the light was just lovely on all the rock faces around us. At the end of the trail, people were lined along the rim of the canyon for at least a km. Mark had gone on ahead to take some photos while I meandered (old age) and took photos of plants and rocks and all the other things I like to take photos of. I found him on the line of people, and well, I don’t like getting close to the edge of anything really. He was right on the rim and ended up with some amazing photos. People were sitting on the edge of the rim (like Mark!) and leaning out taking crazy selfies and all sorts of things. How nobody falls over is beyond me. Then again, it’s nice not to be in a nanny-state that would have barrier up. Take responsibility for yourselves people and if you fall over, bad luck! 

It’s called horseshoe bend because it’s shaped like a horseshoe. Go figure! I just asked Mark how far he thought the drop off to the bottom of the canyon was and he just laughed. No idea. Probably somewhere between 500-800m. At the bottom, the Colorado River. It was a wonderful shade of blues and greens. Again, this is a place where it’s hard to take a bad photo. We watched the sunset and change the colours on the rock face and then made the trek back up the hill. 

Just an end to the post - as we drove back, there was a slow driver ahead of us who was obviously uncomfortable with driving. A lunatic sat right on the back of our car, revving up and being a dick. We decided to turn right at a roundabout when it came up (first chance to turn anywhere) and the car before us made its way slowly through. The lunatic overtook us and how they didn't crash in the roundabout was just a miracle. They both ended up wedged and and blowing horns. We drove off. People can be crazy. 

Then we were crazy. We went to Taco Bell. This was a mistake, unlike the rest of the day.

Check out 10,000,000 photos here. 

23 Sept: Kingman to Flagstaff

Breakfast this morning was pretty dodgy indeed. So it would seem to me that any kind of eating at Kingman is not great - but then again, if we’d strayed further afield, it may be a different story. We were greeted at breakfast by some interesting sights. A group of bikies from Czech Republic (they were all lifetime members and their ladies were impossibly tall and beautiful) as well as a few beauty queens still in curlers but proudly displaying their sashes. 

We headed out on Route 66 again, but this stretch was fairly straight and quite different to yesterday’s experience. As always though, the scenery was wonderful. We headed through Page and on to my insistent little two hour sidetrack to visit Winslow, Arizona - to stand on the corner. I drove, and I actually made pretty good time (wink, wink). Halfway to Winslow, the landscape changed from the red clay earth with dark green shrubbery (and the occasional tree) to enormous plains of yellow grasses. It was entirely different and it was like this all the way to Winslow. This is what I thought the Wild West would look like!

We drove into the sleepy little town of Winslow and got very excited when a tumbleweed tumbled across in front of us. We got so excited, we couldn't grab the camera fast enough, but we did end up with a little photo of it. The very special corner was very easy to find. It really is a small

town, so we just drove down the Main Street and a couple of blocks later, there was the corner. Good on them for taking advantage of the tourism it offers them - there really isn’t much else in Winslow (although it is very pretty). We stood, first me, then Mark, then me again. Then we went across the road into the souvenir shop (which was playing ‘Wasted Time’) and bought a couple of fridge magnets. There were lots of shirts with “I stood on the corner” printed on them. Back out onto the street and the hotel across the road was playing ‘Peaceful, Easy Feeling’ and we decided to drop into the diner on the other corner (there, you have all four corners now). After a ridiculously thick shake and a shared roast beef sandwich (while listening to ‘Life In The Fast Lane’ and the reason we were there ‘Take It Easy’), we headed back out to have another look at the famed corner. We took a photo for a couple from Sacramento and they took one for us. They apologised for their President (LOL) and then told us all about every famous musician the hubby knew, right down to partying with Janis Joplin and Mama Cass. I'm not sure if I believe them or not, but he told good stories. 

Back into the car and we hightailed it back into Page to meet up with Shea (Fairy Princess Petal). This is three different continents we’ve met up on now, so we’re all rather impressed. It’s always great catching up with Petal as she’s always great fun. We had dinner at a local brewery and chatted all night. Dinner was great - pulled pork and some tri-tip, polished off with a great brownie at the end. Shea stayed the night with us at the dodgy motel with loud air conditioning and strange lights all over the place. 

I don’t think I mentioned it before, but it seems to me that most American hotels have hallways straight out of The Shining. This one was no different. Freaking me out man! But most importantly, Shea gave us a travel goodie bag each (isn't she a good egg?) which was full of lots of naughty nibbly American treats. How kind is that!

Piccies here …

  

22 Sept: Bakersfield to Kingman (via Route 66)

This morning saw us head off into the desert on our way to Kingman, Arizona. The landscape is pretty desolate! We saw a huge wind farm across a mountain ridge in Tahachapi, I’ve never seen one this big before. It was so big, I couldn’t get a photo that took it all in. We also saw our first cactus around here - that was a big moment (we high fived). Not much further along was an aeroplane graveyard and of course, a boat repair place for all the boats in the desert. There are a ton of those shiny silver ‘Silver Stream’ caravans on the road. We saw one once at GOMA in a ‘California Dreaming’ exhibition. I thought they were long gone, but they are here, beautiful to look at, with happy owners behind the wheel.

I drove again. I feel I should mention this every time as it’s a complete feat of magic on my part. I drove for ages actually. I even overtook lots of trucks. Look out!

We stopped at a little cafe in Ludlow, on the old Route 66 - you have to do that, don’t you? The town, hmm, ok, the cafe and the few empty old garage and mechanic buildings seem very lonely. There isn’t really anything out here, including trees. It has it’s own beauty though. The cafe is one of the originals, and even has the chairs where you can sit at the counter, as well as booths. We took a booth and ordered cherry pie (feeling very touristy). Mark had a coffee, but after a couple of sips, it was passed into the hall of bad coffee fame. The cherry pie was nice though, as was the waitress. Outside the cafe, I took a few photos and an old guy in a pickup drove past and yelled out his window that the “whole town is for sale”. Made me laugh. 

Back on the highway again (as I type this) heading for ‘Needles’ which is a town with a very cool name, obviously. Old Route 66 runs parallel to this highway and there’s a train track as well. We just saw two of the longest trains ever - each had at least 30 containers after it. Other than that, it’s just big hills, little shrubs, and a dead straight road. It’s still bloody exciting though! I meant to say a couple of days ago, we’ve seen raccoons. here roadkill, but we’ve seen them. It”s a little like the badgers in the UK - you kind of almost get excited about seeing them but it’s all sad at the same time. 

We’ve just left the Wagon Wheel restaurant in Needles, CA. It’s a kitschy little diner, taking advantage of the ‘old route 66’ thing. But, we’ve had the best sandwich of the trip so far. It was a pot roast sandwich with horseradish that had the biggest horse kick I’ve ever had. The meat was melt-in-your-mouth deliciousness and it came with a really nice coleslaw on the side (as well as a Bud light for Mark). There was all sorts of memorabilia on the walls, including a photo of Steve and Bindi Irwin. The tag on the bottom was “visit from Bindi Irwin, 1998”. I asked if Bindi was more popular than Steve, and was told it was just because she visited after he had died, but that “Bye-n-dye” was very popular here indeed. I can’t say I’ve ever heard it pronounced like that! There’s a first time for everything. 

Mark had read about a little ghost town on old Route 66 named Oatman and so we decided to go and have a look. I got really excited when I saw a sign that said ‘donkeys’ for the next four miles. I really hoped we’d see one. We came around a curve and there it was, a donkey, on the side of the road. It was a very exciting moment. A couple of curves more and we were in the Main Street of Oatman - and it was FULL of donkeys. This is no longer a ghost town. They've worked out there would be a great tourism opportunity by reworking the shops and saloons and letting the donkeys wander through town, being fed by the tourists. It was a very cool little place and it’s something I’d recommend. We wandered down the Main Street, but like so many, we were more fascinated with the donkeys than the shops. Coming back to the car, there was a pregnant donkey in the middle of the road, who just didn’t want to move. People were trying to coax her with food and all sorts of things. She eventually moved on of her own accord.

Back onto Route 66 and seriously, with Oatman included, this is the absolute best part of Route 66. Windy roads took us around the canyons with the most magnificent views of the mesas. The road was not only windy, but smoothly bumpy (?) as in the dips and curves were a little like a roller coaster and great fun. We came around a corner and there was an all white donkey just standing on the side of the road (the side looking out over the valley) looking very majestic. Sadly though, I don’t have a photo that I can show you as I had my video camera out at the time instead. You’ll have to wait a bit on that one!

We made it into Kingman. I think most of these towns are the stop over/sleep over place for people touring the route. We went down the road for dinner, something Mark found that had great reviews. I don’t know who did those reviews but they all had bloody bad taste. As with anything that isn’t a rather formal restaurant in America, it was all burgers, fried and wings. We settled for wings this time, thinking it was something a little different. I don’t understand the American obsession with smothering everything in tomato or BBQ sauce (sorry guys). The wings were smothered, they were pretty awful. Then, the rather old, rather balding, paunchy, sleazy manager felt up one of the young waitresses. Ugh. Don’t go there. At that point, I felt pretty happy with the political correctness eating up Australia.

Back to the motel, getting ready for a drive into Flagstaff tomorrow, which hopefully would include a side trip into Winslow!

Check out the donkey pics here.

21 Sept: Hearst Castle & Bakersfield

From San Simeon, we made our way to Hearst Castle which was about 10 minutes drive away. You can see it high up on the hill as you make your way into the visitor centre. There are a few tours, an upstairs one, a downstairs one (what a shame you couldn’t do a bit of both, but hey, the Hearsts need money), a garden one and a kitchen one. We chose the upstairs one as it seemed to show the most elaborate rooms. At $25USD per person, per tour, one was enough. 

They took us in a little bus up the long winding road to the castle. The audio commentary (done by some StarTrek guy) said that the road was designed to give sneak peeks of the castle here and there as you come around the curves, thereby adding to the mystique of the place. There were cows here and there, and once, it was a zoo and guests would see exotic animals like giraffes and lions on the way up. It turns out that when Mr Hearst had a dip in his finances, he donated some of the animals to different zoos - not all of them though, there was no mention of what happened to the other animals. 

We made it to the top and were greeted by our tour guide, Jason. This guy knew absolutely everything about the castle. You could ask him anything, and he had an answer. Seriously, an answer to every single question thrown at him. If you go to the castle, go early in the morning. We only had 6 people in our tour group, so photos without people’s heads was easy, as well as being able to ask as many questions as you liked. We started off in one of the courtyards and got a little run down about how the castle was built over the years, and a bit about Hearst’s life. His family used to camp on top of the mountain and he decided he wanted something a little more permanent. 

The castle is lush and if you are in the area, or close to it, take the time to go and check it out. Each room was furnished in lavish carpets, textiles, ornate furnishings - all very reminiscent of things we’ve seen in European castles. His library was amazing. Books lined the walls behind glass doors and from the bits that we saw, they were sectioned off like any large library. We were standing beside the section on Italian architecture, which was beside the French history part. There was a long boardroom table in this room as well, which is where he held meetings with his copy writers. The focal point of the room was a portrait of the man himself, hanging on the wall at the end of the library. Seemingly, Hearst never wrote copy, that was for the minions. He wrote the front page and the headlines. 

We moved through the cloisters where his guests would stay. More lavish rooms. Some made up for married couples, others for single people. If you weren’t married, there was no chance of visiting your girlfriends’/boyfriends’ room. Jason told us a story of how David Niven thought he’d sneak into his lady’s room during the middle of the night but got lost in the castle. After wandering through a couple of the storeys, I’m not surprised. The cloisters were flanked by a walkway with huge windows opening onto the estate. This was three storeys up, so the breeze was pretty amazing. You’d be lovely and warm due to the fireplaces during winter, and the beautiful sea breezes would cool the place during the summer. Perfect! 

Next up was Hearsts’ bedroom. It was smaller than I thought it would be, based on the lavishness of the place. A few photos of his parents and grandparents, and a little gold leaf piece of artwork of the Madonna and child. They had this valued when on loan to a museum, and it came in at a little under $60mil. Seriously, it was smaller than the Mona Lisa. Across the hall was his girlfriend’s bedroom - the movie actress Marion Davies. It was about the same size and both rooms had lovely little Juliet balconies that looked over the estate. The designer and architect for the place (who spent 28 years completing it) covered Ms Davies’ room with religious art. Six pieces all depicting the Madonna and child. Jason thought this may have been a not-so subtle way of saying she didn’t really approve of the mistress. Hearst was still married, but had come to an amicable agreement with his wife as opposed to a messy, difficult and lengthy divorce. The first Mrs Hearst stayed in New York and enjoyed the social scene her married name allowed her, while Mr Hearst spent a good 35 years madly in love with his mistress, for all the world to see. 

There was a fourth storey to the castle as well. In here was the ‘celestial room’. A bedroom that was part of the turret, directly under the bells (yes, there were tolling bells). It was an octagonal room with wall dressings very similar to some of the Middle Eastern architecture we saw in Spain. Little hexagons of wood, which let light in through the centre. It was all coated in 24 carat gold (as were many things in the palace). Jason said that this was the room that Hedda Hopper would stay in when she visited - and it seems that Mr Hearst used the favour of the room to convince Hedda to write in a way he was happy with (namely, a bad review about a movie that Ms Davies was not in). Standing in a room that was topped by heavy bells, and also the giant water tanks, would normally be a little unnerving, but Jason said that during the 6.0 earthquake in the 80s, nothing broke or moved within the palace, but the bells shook so much they tolled. Pretty impressive considering they are the type of bells where the ringer is the part that stays still and it’s the bells that move. 

After the tour was over, we were free to roam about the gardens. They were beautifully manicured (of course) and there were some amazing roses. One in particular, the George Washington, had the most beautiful perfume. I want one of these rose buses for outside my bedroom window. There were statues and fruit trees and little steps and paths here and there. You could easily stroll around for hours enjoying the glimpses down the hillside to the ocean below. We made our way to the indoor pool - sadly, the Neptune pool which had the mosaic of Michelangelo’s ‘The Creation of the World’ on the floor and surrounded by roman columns, was closed for renovations. The indoor pool was pretty spectacular though. Beautifully tiled, as in the walls, the floor, the pool, with marble steps leading into the pool and a diving board at the end. Oh, all surrounded by classic Greek sculptures of naked men. 

After the lavishness of the castle, we made for the human-ness of Paso Robles. A small town on the way to our next stop. Without boring details, I needed to see a doctor and our travel insurance pointed us to an ‘urgent care’ centre, which are like our 24 medical centres. It was a 2 hour wait though and $130+. So my fabulous Floridian friend Connie, suggested I use a new app called ‘DoctorOnDemand’. Now, I wouldn’t even be writing here about needing a doctor aside from the fact that this app blew our minds! You download from the App Store, you sign up with your credit card details, click on ‘appointment’ and fill out a few details and then wait about two minutes. A doctor (somewhere in the US), reads your file and then you video conference with them. They ask you lots of questions, get you to do this and that, use the camera to show them things if you need to etc. They make a diagnosis (or tell you to go to a physical doctor) and if you need a script, they fax it to the chemist of your choice. How easy is that! You could do this from the comfort of your own home, bugger needing to go out when you are crook. We need this in Australia. It was $75.00 and that was it. We took off for the local chemist and grabbed a script. the most painful part of this entire process was the fact that it took the chemist 40 minutes to dispense tablets for three people. Seems that this is the norm. Mind you, you have to fill out forms about privacy and blah blah just to get the pills. The lady behind the counter was most interested in my Aussie drivers license and my explanation about DrOnDemand as she had never heard of it. So, three people working in the chemist. One to take the prescription, one to fill the prescription and one to give you the prescription. Bizarre, especially considering how long that process took. 

Anyway, lunch was necessary after all of this and we found a great little diner. The owners must have been stuck somewhere in the 50s as it was straight out of a Happy Days set. Booths, black and white checkered tiles, jukebox, the whole deal. So, while at a classic diner, one must have milkshakes and burgers. We had to ask for half the amount of cream on the milkshake (as it really was one of those ones with whipped cream overflowing with a cherry on top) and it was the thickest milkshake I’ve ever had. Chocolate Malt of course. The burger was yummy but we were glad we decided to share it. The meal was still too big and we left a little of everything behind. 

Back on the road to Bakersfield, which was our overnight stop to make the drive a little less full-on. There’s not much in Bakersfield. It seems that it’s just the stop over town for most people on the road. There was a Denny’s next door so we decided to try that. Don’t. We’ve struggled with the all-American things so far: Denny’s = no, S’Mores = no, Twinkies = no, ranch dressing on everything = no, coffee anywhere = no. Everything outside these things has been fabulous though! (Just seriously, don’t do Denny’s).

Check out the photos and the milkshake here.

20 Sept: Monterey, Carmel & San Simeon

There was a big day of driving ahead of us, so we got up early and headed down to a cafe for bacon and eggs. I have to admit, San Franciscans know how to cook. Perfectly done eggs with yummy, crispy bacon. 

We hit the road, with Monterey in our sights. All in all, it was a rather uneventful drive, except we didn’t bet on the traffic jams. It took as an hour longer to get out of SF than we’d expected. Monterey was nice - I don’t really have much to report here. It’s a little like Byron Bay with a beach and some laid back cafes. It was pretty quiet and we went for a walk down Cannery Row. The remnants of cannery factories were plenty, and where we thought they would have all been turned into restaurants, instead, they were ramshackled and wasting away. We found a little bakery to have some lunch and while the staff were lovely, it took them 20 minutes to make a grilled cheese (and yes, we were the only customers). The grilled cheese however, was like no other grilled cheese. It was a triple decker with cheese oozing everywhere. There were obviously different types of cheeses on it too as there were different colours, including that famous very orange American cheese. We shared that and then finished it off with our first key lime pie. It was a little like a cheesecake, but not. It had a base that was like an ANZAC biscuit, but not. It was very yummy and just tangy enough. 

Back into the car and a short drive down to Carmel. Another sleepy little beach town where again, I have to admit, I don’t have much to report. We had a look at the beach and then a drive around some of the very nice houses. The coastline is very different to ours, lots of rocks and seaweed, but very pretty nonetheless. 

We were on our way to San Simeon, and had planned on that lovely coastal dive down through Big Sur and the like (I originally had visions of a convertible and a Grace Kelly scarf, but that was too expensive) however there was a landslide a few months ago which wiped out a bridge and a big chunk of the road. We saw it on the news before we left, and had our fingers crossed that it would be repaired in time, but nope - those poor people are stuck out there, needing to go the long way around to get anywhere. It’s a big long way around as well, let me tell you. It added an extra 2 hours to our trip. We had to head down towards LA and then come back under and around to go back up to San Simeon. We had a nice taste of some landscape though, and got to see a lot more freeway (yay) (sarcasm). After the freeway though, were rolling hills covered in little vineyards. I think this is an area that we need to come back and explore some more. We could then do the Big Sur drive and spend another week at Disneyland!!

San Simeon is a pretty little coastal town, not too far down from Carmel if the road is intact. Again, a rocky shoreline and some nice waves. Our motel was pretty modest, and unfortunately, the smokers section was at the entrance doorway, so you had to hold your breath to get in. A large load of Chinese tourists arrived on a bus trip, and so the smoking entrance filled up pretty quickly. There was also a big termite tent out the front, so we figured there was a ‘Breaking Bad’ moment happening. There was a little restaurant a few motels down, so we went there for dinner and were surprised by a fabulous meal served by an old Italian guy. Mark had scampi and I had a sirloin (I’m over seafood for a bit now). His scampi were yummy, done in a creamy sauce, and my steak was perfectly cooked, down with mushrooms and a hint of curry (would you believe it!). We rolled out of there after a big meal and I drove as Mark had one of the biggest glasses of beer I’ve ever seen. Back through smokers delight and we crashed out for another early start and big drive.

Check out the photos here.

19 Sept: San Francisco (Day 3)

It’s our last day in San Fran and we’ve left some of the big stuff until the end. We headed to a brekkie place we’d spotted on our first day and I had a magnificent blueberry pancake with lots of fruit and cream. It was really good. Then we wandered down to Pier 39 to take a closer look at the sea lions - hoping there weren’t as many people as we had seen on Sunday afternoon. The place was pretty deserted at 9:00am, so I’d recommend heading down there on a weekday morning. We strolled through the shops on the pier, looked at the beautifully ornate carousel (where you could ride sea lions as well as horses) and then came around the corner to the noise of the sea lions. There were so many of them, all flopping over each other and banging around for the most comfortable spot. There were blissed out ones facing the sun (you could imagine them thinking “oh yeah, this is the life”, and there were ones all snuggled in together. They’ve certainly made themselves at home on the pier.

Next we set off on our latest adventure of conquering laundromats the world over. Sadly, this one was no different to any of the others we’ve seen, except it was a lot cheaper and easier to get change! It’s actually a nice bit of time out where we can sit down and read and languish in the quiet. Lunchtime after washing saw us head to Boudins, the bakery at the wharf so I could eat the clam chowder and Mark could have a crab sandwich. OMG, everything they tell you about the clam chowder is true. It’s in every meal place, but I’d been told Boudins was the place to go. It was divine. Divine! Then, it was time to jump in the car….

We headed off to find our hippie moment of peace and love at Haight-Ashbury. The intersection of these two streets is where the flower power movement started. These days, it’s more like being able to find your spaced out drug dealer instead. It was all very reminiscent of Camden town in London - lots of groovy little shops selling all sorts of things, but also a little grimy with lots of second hand vases and Bob Marley shirts. We had to go around the block(s) a few times and then Mark ran a red light, right at the important, history-making corner itself. Say no more. 

Our next stop was Golden Gate Park. Little did we know, but this park is about the same size as Central Park in New York - so it’s bloody big. You can drive through it, but the problem was, roadworks. Everywhere. On every street that we could turn left at to get into the park. Seriously, we spent almost an hour trying to get in there. We’d go left to be able to sneak up behind it and head straight through a set of lights, only to find a ‘left turn only’ sign due to road works. It was a total mission. We eventually made it in, I’m not really sure how, but we were in and that was all that mattered. The first thing we came across was a rose garden. We took the time to smell the roses, as you should, but only a few of them had any perfume. The ones that did were glorious. I think we were a little late though - it would have been magnificent in summer. Next we went to see the Bison Park. They have a section that has Bison, seemingly a successful breeding program as well considering the husband of the Mayor (some time ago) bought her a male and female bison for a birthday present. Romantic. For the bison maybe. Anyway, as excited as I was (because so far, the only bison I had seen was the big stuffed head hanging on the wall of the restaurant at Sierra Sky Lodge), it was a big let down. The poor bison. They were sad bison. There were two of them in the field (I don't think they were the birthday gift ones) and they just looked depressed. There were also some in a pen, but when we read the little information plaque it said that bison were about six feet tall at the shoulder - these guys were far from that. They were small and shrunken. We both felt awful for them, so we left. 

It was getting late, and so we headed for THE bridge. No words can describe how completely spectacular it is. Little wonder it is one of the architectural icons of the world. It’s not really the bridge as much as the placement of it. I’ll get to that… We drove across it, I think driving across any bridge is a little underwhelming. I thought this one needed a paint actually. It’s bloody long and everyone has their phones up videoing the moment (yeah, ok, me too). We reached the end and headed down to Sausalito as we’d read about a community of house boats that sounded interesting. As is always the case for us, the satnav had different ideas. Where the rest of the world head down a nice straight street to the part you all really want to get to, our satnav sent us on some narrow hairpin turns that made Sicily look like child's play. One or two of them, we needed to back up a little just to get around them. Even the satnav seemed to emphasise the words “sharp turn”. We eventually made it down, found a park, went for a walk. Saw some retirees enjoying a game of bocce while some hippie guys played guitar riffs in the park. The rich retired and the grotty, unemployed youth - but they were all enjoying themselves. As is often the case in SF, the smell of pot wafted past. I think it was the hippie guys, not the bocce players. Either way, not a houseboat in sight.

We got back in the car, turned right and found the road that every other person took into Sausalito. We stopped and gazed over the bay at the city beyond, and then headed up to Hawk Hill, which is where a good friend (yay for Kristin) said we’d get some good photos. Every man and his dog were jam packed into the little parking bay alcoves on the way up, but when we made it to Hawk Hill, there was parking a plenty. I think it was actually a much better view of the bridge as we were looking AT it rather than ALONG it. There were only a few people there and so we just sat down and admired the view. It really is spectacular. You feel like you are sitting in a postcard. The sun was shining on the city (yep, late afternoon is the time to go) and the light was amazing. Words cannot describe how amazing it was - iconic and beautiful. We took too many photos as we were pretty gobsmacked. I also attempted the selfie stick magic again. Mark has now banned me from it. He thinks I don't have enough hand-eye coordination. I think we ended up with one or two good photos though. Maybe. 

We wanted to take some more photos from the city side of the bay, so we headed back over. We found a car park and it was pay and display. We counted out our quarters and dimes for the machine but I lost a dime before I realised I was trying to pay the credit card slot instead of the coin slot (hey, it was a big day!). Then, we found out that the pay part ended at 5pm - it was 5:30pm so we were ok. Again, issues with the selfie stick, but we were in hysterics so we were having fun even if we didn’t get any good photos. As we were leaving, I noticed the line of houses outside the parking lot. I’m sure they were important in some way, but I didn’t know, and I haven’t googled it yet. However, they were boxes, little boxes, little boxes made of ticky tacky… and so on. They were identical. 

It was our plan to take a quick look at the Palace of Fine Arts before we left San Fran, and so Mark followed his nose (he wanted me to write that) and found it without the silly bloody satnav. On the way we drove past the military cemetery, and through a military compound of some kind. We came across the Walt Disney Family Museum which I had kindly conceded that we didn’t have time to see that day, only to find it’s closed on Tuesdays anyway! (Check these small details before you head out kiddies). We found what we were looking for via Mark’s nose (mind you, it’s a bloody tall building so you can’t really miss it, shhh, but yeah, he did a good job) and had a wander around. It’s left over from one of the exhibitions and it is indeed a beautiful structure surrounded by a lake. It’s definitely worth going to see. 

By this time, it was cold, we were tired and hungry, and we felt as if we had seen the things we wanted to see in SF (yep, no Alcatraz - neither one of us wanted to, despite everyone telling us it was a ‘can't-miss-it’ thing). We enjoyed our last seafood dinner and headed back to the hotel, ready to make an early start in the morning. Oh, there's lots of homeless people in SF. Walking back we saw the police talking to a group of them. As the police were walking away, one guy yelled after them “Have a good night guys, and thanks for not being assholes”. It made me laugh. We dropped into 7-11 to pick up some water for the drive, and as we walked out, a guy with a bag slung over his shoulder turned on his ‘beat box’. Seriously, I almost had a heart attack - you could have been in a nightclub - it was SO loud. What’s with that? “Hey man, listen to my crappy rap music: you have no choice. I’m too cool”. It goes with the place though - it’s pretty eclectic. And then the smell of pot wafted over us again…..

Check out LOTS of photos here.

18 Sept: San Francisco (Day 2)

A big day out exploring San Fran. We grabbed a 24 hour travel pass and joined the big queue for the cable car. While we were in line, a family asked the couple behind us to take a photo for them. The old German guy taking the photo, promptly dropped and smashed their phone. Ooopsies. The wife of the phone dropping guy went to great pains to point out that the phone screen already had a crack on it, and they both laughed. The American family were so bloody nice about it, saying it was fine and it was time for them to get a new phone anyway. Ahhh, it’s the little things. 

The cable car was pretty cool. The streets really are at a crazy incline and I would not like to walk up them. Down was difficult enough on these old knees. Looking up and down them was exactly like watching Michael Douglas driving madly on these streets to catch the baddies in ‘The Streets of San Fransisco’. My nan would have loved this. We got off at the top of Lombard Street - the crookedest street in the world. I’ve seen it in movies, and so it was fun to walk down. It really does just wind it’s way down the hill in 8 hairpin turns. We joined the hoardes and wandered down taking lots of of photos along the way. It’s quite a pretty street actually. It seems that SF knows how to do tourism. 

A bit of a walk, another cable car, and we were in the civic centre. Had a quick look at the city hall and then jumped on a bus to get a little closer to the ‘Painted Ladies’, a row of Victorian townhouses (very cool architecture). Yep, they’re pretty. we had a look at the main row - these were used in the opening credits for the TV series ‘Full House’ and then headed around the corner. There were more of these houses, and I think they were actually nicer than the main tourist ones. As I was looking at one, the lady of the house passed me in the street and headed to the mailbox. We had a quick chat and I told her I liked hers more than “the ones over there”. Funnily enough, she agreed. She didn’t invite me in for a cuppa though. Boo. 

Another cable car brought us back to Fisherman’s Wharf and our hotel. We had a bit of a rest and then headed out again, this time to Ghirardelli (the chocolate makers). It was bloody cold and very windy, so I convinced Mark I needed a San Fran jacket. It’s very cool. When we walked into Ghirardelli’s, they gave us a pumpkin spice chocolate sample. Needless to say, this is what we bought. It is Halloween season after all. (By the way, the TV is on while I type this. we’re completely transfixed by American TV ads. The actual show we’re watching is just background noise until the ads come one. Especially the medicine ads - with the warnings they give, right up to “this pill could cause death”, I’m not sure how there’s actually an industry left!). 

Back to fisherman’s wharf for dinner. It was nowhere near as lively as it was last night - so again, if you come here, make sure it’s over a weekend. It was still great down there though and we looked at many restaurants before deciding on going back to the one we went to last night so we could try something different - although Mark ended up having the same thing again, which he said was just as good. I settled on some grilled scallops. Sooooo fresh, and perfectly cooked. We’ve got another big day tomorrow, so after a few more ads, I’m off to sleep.

Photos here…

17 Sept: San Francisco (day 1)

Time to leave the Groveland Hotel. Mark needed a real coffee, so we hit a little cafe before we left. His small latte was bloody huge! 

It was about a three hour drive into San Francisco - mostly along nice country roads, so I drove a little (just a little). All of a sudden it was a six lane freeway again and the traffic jam on a Sunday afternoon was a bit unexpected. We checked in and went for a stroll down to Fisherman’s Wharf. This city is just fabulous - if you come here, come on a weekend, as everything was happening on Sunday night. The streets were packed, there were (very good) buskers everywhere, street vendors and the best of all, completely hotted up cars cruising up and down the street. There is also a lot of pot. It’s a little like wandering around Nimbin. If you breathe deeply as you walk around, you’ll probably get a little stoned. There’s lots of homeless people, and many have signs that ask for money for weed - at least they’re honest! It turns out that California voted and decided to decriminalise it. In a year or two, licenses will be available for sellers. Think of the tax the state will make! This is big business at it’s best LOL. 

We wandered over and had a look at the sea lions and then decided to have an early dinner. Seafood, seafood, Italian or seafood? Guess which won. We sat down at Pompei, and were greeted with a hard-to-decide-from menu. I couldn’t go past the roasted Dungeness crab. Mark settled on a seafood basket. When they gave me a bib, I knew I was in for some serious crab cracking. OMG, it was good. I mean really good. So fresh and so perfectly cooked. While we were eating this slice of seafood magnificence, the hotted up cars paraded up and down the street. It was like something from a Cheech and Chong movie - they bounced and jacked up, one side and then the other. One was jacked up so high on one side it was doing a wheelie. They had hip-hop music blaring, very cool guys in sunglasses and chains, and they were too cool for school. They didn’t even look around at everyone cheering and taking photos - they just kept nodding their heads in time with the music. It was hilarious and so much fun. They were taking people for rides, making the most of the tourist industry. Most of the riders also looked like they were right at home and joined in with the staring straight ahead, head nodding vibe. It was a great introduction to a fun, exciting city.

A few photos here.

16th September - Yosemite National Park

We spent last night at the Sierra Sky Lodge, and it was just lovely. It’s an old ranch, and still decked out like it was an old western saloon. The main house was once used to house recovering TB patients (don’t breathe in too deeply when in the rooms). We had a lovely dinner, which we didn’t share, because we were so bloody hungry. The waiter was fabulous, and we got a taste of that wonderful, friendly service that everyone raves about. He was telling us that the hotel had only reopened two days earlier as they had been evacuated the week before due to a fire “just there, on that mountain ridge” which was basically outside the door. We saw the results of that fire on our way into Yosemite. 

Glacier Point had only been closed for the week but opened today. We uhmmed and ahhhed about whether we should go up as the ranger said the smoke may impinge the view. We decided to go. Why not, I mean, we’re only going to be there once right? On the single road in, everything seemed pretty clear. Then we passed a sign saying ‘smoke on road’. Around the next corner there was smoke on the road. And everywhere else as well. There were smouldering fires all around us, and many that had little flames crawling up what was left of tree trunks. It was like driving into a science fiction movie - everything was black and grey and smokey. It stopped just as quickly as it started. It was like there was a line on the road with a “You shall not pass” sign for the fire. As we drove on, we saw the devastation it had left behind. Very eerie.

We made it to Glacier Point and the view was just out of this world. It looks across the entire Yosemite Valley and takes in all the peaks. Directly across from us was Half Dome. We could also see the Yosemite Valley falls off to the right. Yosemite is all granite peaks, and so everything had this greyish white colour, and truly, no photo I have will do it justice. Majestic is the only way to describe the view. It was so breathtaking, we ended up spending an hour and a half up there, just looking at it all from every angle we could. The air was crisp and clean and totally invigorating. Some people had taken their dogs and thought it was funny when they’d snap at any squirrels that got close (?!?). Or maybe they were chipmunks. We don’t quite know the difference yet. 

We headed back down and made our way into Yosemite Valley itself. At one point, there is ‘tunnel view’. Strangely, it’s at the end of a tunnel. It’s aptly named in more ways than one though - its a view into the valley, with the mountains on either side so it looks like…. a tunnel! It was stunningly beautiful as well. I’d like to say I’ve mastered the selfie stick at this point, but alas, no. we did end up with some ok photos though. When you take photos of the view though, you can’t go wrong. I don’t think it’s possible to take a bad photo in this place. Everything is like looking at photos that appear in National Geographic magazine.

There’s a big ring road into the valley, with a nice meadow and a stream in the middle of it. We tried to get into Bridalveil Falls but couldn’t get a park, so we just wound our way around the ring road, double parking to take photos and gaze at the views when we could. We saw Half Dome from underneath this time, and the sheer face of El Capitan. We managed to grab a park in the centre of the valley (finding a car park mid-afternoon is like finding angel wings. I was going to write fairy wings, but there are at least a dozen pair sitting under our house, so that’s not particularly rare at all). We found some (bad) lunch and then walked in to see the Yosemite Falls. They were beautiful as well - nature is like that, you can’t really say it isn’t great to look at - and then we walked around to find the shuttle that would take us to the base of El Capitan. On the way, we saw some deer: a stag, a couple of mumma deer and some babies. We were suitably impressed, they didn’t give a rats patootie that we were so excited. 

We found the shuttle stop, talked to some people from Sacramento who tried to explain the difference between squirrels and chipmunks to us, but they decided that they didn’t really know and that “both carried rabies so don’t touch them”. 

When we got on the shuttle, we realised that it would take around an hour and a half to get to El Capitan and back to the car park, due to the shuttle doing the big loopy thing. So we got off at the car park, jumped in the car, and five minutes later, we drove past the base of El Capitan. There you have it. So, a few photos, more “OMG, would you look at that” conversations and we were on our way to the next hotel. 

The Groveland Hotel is in a little town that appears to be mainly tourists. It was an old hotel (120 years) and the rooms were very old fashioned. It felt like stepping back in time - rocking chairs, fancy draped curtains, armoires and the like. All American beds are really, really high, and this one had an old fashioned quilt (as in quilted quilt) and the most divine feather pillows ever! Ever! We had dinner at the Fork and Love (yep) and that was just awful. Everything was covered in Ranch Dressing. They did however, have a lovely Syrah wine, produced in the Yosemite Valley - so I had my first glass of wine in months. We decided (Mark would say I decided) to share ‘S’mores’ for dessert. I have never in my life eaten so much sugar in just two spoonfuls. I couldn’t actually do it, and that’s saying something as I have such a big sweet tooth. There were figs on the plate, and there was no sweetness to them at all, compared to the s’mores. It was disgusting - sorry to my American friends who love them. The sugar rush was so intense, I was immediately awake (after such an exhausting day) and I think I got the shakes a little. Never again. 

Check out the magnificently magnificent Yosemite photos here.

14th/15th September: Brisbane, LA, Three Rivers, Sequoias.

OK, we’ve settled in so I feel like I can write a little. The plane trip was uneventful - the usual annoying seat kickers and stuff, but all in all, it was probably the best long haul we've been on. Yay QANTAS and yay for some sleep. LAX was easy to figure out, and we jumped on a shuttle to our hire car place. The driver was Latino so I got to say gracias and understood her de nada reply (that’s pretty much the limit of my Spanish so I feel that I’ve had huge success). A right hand drive is a right hand drive, but we’re getting into it - or should I say Mark is resettling into it. I drove twice. I won’t say more than that.

We drove down to Venice Beach to have a look. Saw Santa Monica Pier off in the distance. Saw one of those Voltan fortune telling machines, so I got a bit excited. Then a strange lady came up to me and freaked me out. She was very much like that crazy eye Susan in Orange is the new Black, and she kind of really eyeballed me. We walked a little faster, and got out of there. 

After much backwards and forwards, we made it on to the freeway. We ended up missing an entrance (ok, a few entrances), tried going around the block to get back on (ok, there aren't really blocks) and then ended up on some exits as we were in the wrong lanes (because they have like 300 exit lanes and you think you are far enough to the left, but obviously not). We had some lunch at a burger place, listened to a guy yelling down his phone to a Trump supporter, and were amazed at the size of the medium drink cups (their small is bigger than our large). Had to have a little kip in the car park before we went on, but made it to our hotel in Three Rivers. 

Oh, can I just say, what's with these hybrid cars! As if right hand driving isn’t enough. We had to ask someone to show us how to start it. No ignition, no noise, a dial to choose park, drive and reverse. That in itself was a learning experience and today, getting ‘gas’. Sheesh. It’s pay before you buy, and there isn’t diesel or unleaded, but there’s three different ‘qualities’. We weren't sure what to put in it, let alone how, and when I asked the guy to help us as we didn’t know what kind of petrol to use and he asked if I wanted gas. I thought he meant LPG. I can be a bit slow. Mind you, everyone has been very helpful. I think it may have been a not so great neighbourhood when a lady just leant out of her car at the bowsers and vomited everywhere and then just shut the door again. o…..k….

Had a lovely dinner last night, and yes, one meal was more than enough for us both. Great sleep and up early this morning to head into the giant sequoia national park. Brekkie was strange, white butter, weird sweet bread (I should have brought Vegemite). I watched a lady make waffles, I might try this one day. We went to a cafe as Mark wanted good coffee. Uhm. But, there were hummingbirds. They are tiny - not what I imagined at all. They were beautiful to watch. I also picked up an acorn. I think the waitress was a little amazed at how amazed I was.

OK, off to the sequoias. OMG, how big are these trees! They are amazingly beautiful and huge. HUGE! The air was so crisp and clean and it was wonderful to walk around. We drove in a bit further to see the ‘General Sherman’ which is the biggest of them all. It’s taller than the Statue of Liberty (not that we’ve seen that for a real comparison, but it was an impressive comparison none the less). It is the world’s largest volume tree and is thought to be 2,200 years old, with its largest branch being seven feet in diameter. There you have it. Mind you, we were up at 7000ft, so the walk back up to the car park was a bit of a killer. That’s my exercise for the month. Oh, and squirrels. Lots of squirrels. Or maybe they were chipmunks, we don’t really know what the difference is.

We drove to Fresno, grabbed a SIM card and tried to get away from the security guard who wanted to talk our ears off about what he knew of Australia. We’ve just driven through Yosemite Village and seen many, many fast food joints (all pizzas and burgers), a few restaurants to choose from for tonight and a very large construction project, which was all made of wood. It’s like an old fashioned town. The laundromat was ‘Sierra Suds’ and the vet was called ‘Hooves and Paws’. Fabulous landscapes though, they've changed throughout the drive. Very long, yellow grasses, the beautiful sequoia thick forests, and then huge granite boulders in clumps along the road. Oh, and so far, America has incredibly high beds!

Some more photos here.