Nov 2008

Day 15

We had heard stories about how driving in LA could be a real nightmare, but sat nav in hand, we jumped in our car and readied ourselves for the madness that would ensue. It was all going so well until, with 30 miles to go, our out of date maps sent us right, then right again, right again, followed by another right. We followed this loop, wondering if we really were heading in the right direction, on for what seemed like, hours. Eventually, we braved it and took up the challenge of trying to find our own way. With equal measures of skill and luck, we eventually made it to our motel, in the heart of Inglewood. We bolted down our doors as we drove, praying that we wouldn’t get jacked. The area was not the most picturesque and after hearing Dr Dre and Ice Cube songs from the 90’s, we feared the worst.

After collecting our thoughts and locking down our belongings, we set off on the 8 mile journey to the TV studios to watch the Late Late Show filmed live. Only 8 miles away with map written directions, a half right sat nav and an hour to spare, what could possibly go wrong? Unfortunately a combination of heavy traffic and a ridiculous array of highways and exits foiled our plans and an hour and twenty later, we abandoned the idea and followed signs to Venice beach, of Baywatch fame.

The sun was setting as we arrived and many had left the beach. Hungry and without our Speedos, we grabbed a beer and an unlimited taco meal and reflected on a day’s missed opportunities.

Day 16

Today was our last day in America; therefore we decided to spend it at the beach. We started the day with a gorgeous, but overly filling, breakfast. A sexy omelet for Alan and pancakes of the day for me, filled with strawberries and white chocolate, my addiction to American pancakes had well and truly begun.

Following this we parked the car at Santa Monica beach and took a relaxing stroll in the sunshine to Venice Beach, which was much further away than we realized. There were even more crazies parading this area than the previous day. Highlights included a woman who believed she was a pirate, the “world’s funniest wino” wearing a sandwich board, claiming he would tell jokes for money, and also a skating guitar player, complete with massive afro.

Feeling the heat, I decided that I wanted to buy a straw hat and went in a number of shops, trying various hats on. In typical female style I ended up getting the first one that I saw. Noticing that Alan had lost the will to live by this point, we decided to go for a drink. Strangely, but luckily, Hull City were playing Chelsea on the TV screen in the bar, therefore we spent some time watching the game.

Suddenly becoming aware of the time, and realizing we soon had to set off for the airport, we took a walk back to Santa Monica beach. We went for tea at an English style pub and enjoyed a meal of fish and chips. When we left the pub the weather had taken a turn for the worse, the warm sunshine had turned into chilly fog, and we shivered our way back to the car.

We made our way with difficulty in the fog to the airport, feeling excited about our next destination- Fiji. Before we bordered the plane, we didn’t expect it to be as comfortable as our first flight, how wrong we were! When we found our seats we thought that the flight attendants had made a mistake as the seats looked as though they belonged in first class. Luckily no mistake had been made and we spent the next few minutes exploring the many features of our chairs. The chairs fully reclined to a laying position and we were provided with a blanket, pillow and we had our own individual TV screen to watch films. Furthermore, a slightly camp flight attendant was more than happy to give Alan a demonstration on how to use his inbuilt back massager!

Despite this excitement, our adventures in America had finally caught up with us and we slept like babies for much of the 10 hour journey to Fiji.

Day 14

After discovering that Tijuana was a short drive from San Diego, we left the sunny California beaches behind and headed for the Mexican border. We followed the ubiquitous advice about not driving across (due to problems in being allowed back into America) and we walked across apprehensively. It was quite a surreal experience, passing through a metal turnstile; the plaque ahead told us that we were now in Mexico.

We headed for the city centre, soon realizing that we were lost and we jumped into one of the many available taxis. Within seconds of stepping out of the taxi onto la avenida revolucion, we were approached by a hawker, and given the heat and our lack of bearings; we decided to go in “Iguanas” for a drink. We noted that it was just after 12pm meaning that it was OK to drink.

After downing two coronas we made our way back onto the street and proceeded to be hassled by everyone that we came across. Everything was available, from leather, tacky souvenirs, donkey rides and every type of prescription drug you could imagine. Furthermore, as we strolled along the street we assured that “we’ll rip you off less than they do back there!” Although this was a very tempting offer, we went on the hunt for a taco stand and we eventually found a very busy one. We bought a couple of very tasty burritos, costing just $1 each.

“La Revo” was much shorter than we realized and within minutes we had reached the end of the road. We knew if we turned back we would be subjected to more of the same sales pitches, however, with no alternative we headed back.

We continued to fend off pushy Mexicans and their “gringo tax” until the heat of the day became too much to bear and we decided to go for a drink in a bar opposite the Caesar hotel, home of the famous Caesar Salad. We ordered two beers and were asked if we wanted them “Mexican style” which we naively agreed to. This resulted in four beers, two shots of tequila, nachos and salsa. Unfortunately it was not happy hour, as we had expected, and an overpriced bill was handed to us. After a few words of objection, we paid the bill and headed back out, suddenly feeling a lot more hardened to the hawkers’ advances.

We escaped the hassle of the street by going to the Fronton Pallacio Jai Allai, a historical building where a sport called Jai Alia used to be played. Jai Allai is a game similar to racquet ball that used to be popular in Mexico. This former gym is one of Tijuana’s landmarks and now it is used for events such as concerts, Luche Libre (Mexican pro wrestling) and museum exhibitions. The day that we visited, there was an exhibition of Mexican mummies.

After paying a cheap entrance fee we were ushered into a room with a cinema screen and a short film was played. It soon became apparent that we were the only English speaking people and we were given our own personal guide to translate the epitaphs. The building was dark eerie as we walked through and mummies of all ages were presented, including the remains of a baby form 1984.

After this slightly surreal experience we took a short walk to the “Parque de Marzo” and admired the two memorial monuments and the Mexican flag. Following our travel guide’s advice, we went to Chai Jai for tea. This meal did not disappoint, the fish was amazing and it was heaven to find some peace form the sweaty, bustling streets of Tijuana.

Feeling satisfied and confident in fending off hawkers (including small children) we walked back to the border, at which point we were both briefly interrogated before being allowed back into America. Suspicions particularly arose when an officer could not believe that Alan, being an English man, was not bringing any alcohol into the country. Despite this we were both given permission to re-enter America, and with relief we headed back to the car. It was good to experience Tijuana, however, a day was more that enough to appreciate its madness.

Day 13

Having got a taste for the beach, we took a short scenic drive to La Jolla. On the way we stopped at the Broken Yolk, a bustling eatery serving the finest omelets. The choice was unbelievable and after deciding on a John Wayne (chilli, cheese, cheese and more cheese) and the omelet with no name (avocado and bacon) set about the task of devouring this egg based behemoth. Having only just managed to finish, we were glad that we didn't attempt the full monty, an omelet so big that if you finish it in under an hour you eat for free, a taste only completed by a select few.

We stumbled back to the car and within no time we were strolling along the coast. we walked through a festival in support of disabled athletes and after weaving in and out of one legged people on exercise bikes, stood and watched seals playing on the beach below. Having not brought our cossies we again hopped in our car to take in some culture at Balboa park, a massive arch filled with no less than 27 museums.

Having realised our money was quickly disappearing we chose the only free one in the park, the uninspiring and pretentious Tinkem museum of art. We quickly left and with time against us drove to Horton Plaza, the craziest shopping complex we'd seen. A maze of colours, stairs and tunnels, we were initially impressed, but it soon became apparent that it housed shops found in any other centre and we decided to end the day with another Mexican meal on Ocean Beach.

Day 12

Having booked a hire car, I decided to brave the bus journey alone to the outskirts of Las Vegas to pick up the vehicle while Lesley packed. After the luxury of the Chrysler we decided on a more modest car and opted for a Hyundai Saloon. Again the company didn’t have any and again we were upgraded. Sat outside awaited the Pontiac Grand Prix, a 3.8 ltr V6 beast of a car, speeding along in this on the way to meet Lesley. I decided that it would be a missed opportunity if I didn’t fire a machine gun and my decision was made.

After picking up Lesley we headed straight back to the gun ranch. I armed myself with an AK-47. It was a fun but short lived experience as rounds pored from the nozzle. Again my arm was superb and it affirmed my belief that if I was called up, I’d be an excellent soldier.

We jumped back into the Pontiac and sped across the desert to the sunny beaches of San Diego. The journey was punctuated by a visit to Peggy Sue’s all American diner. After refueling on cream pie and delicious shakes the trip continued and after no time we pulled up to the Super 8 motel. Hungry, we drove to Ocean Beach, where we picked up some cheap and delicious Mexican and sat and watched the sunset.

As darkness closed in, we decided to hit the town but by the time we pulled on our glad rags and got out, a thick fog had descended on the streets. Taking a short walk we happened upon a few bars and not sure of where to head, we wandered and walked into the first busy place we came across, Urban Mo’s.

It quickly became clear that this was a gay bar. Unperturbed, we ventured in and found the dance floor packed with line dancing homos. Despite the strangeness of our surroundings, we found the club to have a good atmosphere and friendly locals, one of whom wanted to be much friendlier to me.

After copious drinking, which still didn’t get us up line dancing, we headed out into the foggy night. Taking the scenic route (getting lost) we eventually made it back to the comfort of our bed and fell into a drunken, but comfortable sleep.

Day 10

After a ridiculously busy first week away, we realized that we needed to spend a while planning the rest of our time in the U S of A. In a change from our original plan, we decided to go to San Diego, rather than Santa Barbara. The day was pretty uneventful, the highlight booking our trip to the Grand Canyon, the following day.

On the night, after hearing good reviews, we went to the Planet Hollywood Casino for the Spice Buffet. This was a huge improvement on last night's meal. Alan was happy with the large selection of seafood and worked his way through a ridiculous amount of crabs' legs. I soon became excited when I saw the many desserts. Feeling slightly greedy, we rationalized that this was all part of experiencing the American culture. After our huge meal, we explored Planet Hollywood further. It had a buzzing, lively atmosphere, much better than the other Casino’s we had been to. After much anticipation Alan decided to join a poker game

As he approached the table, the other players eyed him suspiciously, trying to work him out. He sat down and casually tossed his chips into the middle, eyeballing the others with equal ferocity. After folding numerous hands, due to poor cards and generally being bullied by the others, he was dealt of Jack and King of Hearts. After a few raises only he and two others remained in, the flop was kind, laying two more hearts on the table, only one more needed for the flush. Alan played it cool and checked, as did a guy in a cap next to him, the guy at the other end of the table bet $25, putting Alan all in. It was now or never and Alan pushed his chips into the middle and stood up, ready to walk away if things went badly. The stakes were too high for the guy in the cap, and he threw down his cards. Everyone showed, Alan was up against 2 pair, only another heart could save him. The turn came…a club! Alan wiped his brow as the dealer slowly turned over the final card. Relief…a heart, and Alan quickly gathered in his winnings, giving a knowing glance his opponent, it had been a close thing.

Over $40 up and pleased with our exploits on the poker table, we hit the slots again and I came away happy after winning $2, possibly the lowest amount of money ever cashed in at Vegas. A successful gambling night for us both we jumped on a bus outside and headed back to our hostel. There are crazy people everywhere in Las Vegas, and this journey was no exception. The guy just in front of us kept muttering F***ing cranks at anyone else boarding. Trying not to laugh, I couldn’t help but catch Alan’s eye. He knew this could only lead to trouble, and wisely spent the rest of the journey looking anywhere but at me. We left the bus and spent the rest of the walk wondering why there is such a huge concentration of crazy people and doing impressions…F***ING CRANKS!!!

Day 11

As it was the day of our helicopter flight to the Grand Canyon, we had a very early start. We were picked up in an amazing Limo, which was very exciting; apart from the fact our driver must have had an even earlier start than us, and seemed very grumpy. This was made worse, when he realized he would need to make a 3 point (quickly becoming a 50 point turn) to get out of the hostel car park. but finally he escaped and we set off for the airport.

After a briefing we boarded the helicopter and soon were soon flying over the desert on our way to the canyon. Some of the scenery was spectacular, such as the Hoover Dam and Lake Mead, however much of it was merely desert.

• ** photo coming soon***

The pilot insisted that animals, such as wild horses could often be seen below, but despite straining our eyes, sadly none were seen. We soon passed the West Rim of the Canyon and flew passes the Skywalk, a see through platform suspended high above the canyon. We had earlier though about driving to this, but were pleased on our choice, as the helicopter carried on to the south rim descending and landing on the bottom. We wandered around taking photos as the pilot prepared our Champagne breakfast. After warning Alan not to go too close the Cactus, I stupidly managed to cut my arm on one just after this photo was taken.

• **photo coming soon***

We sat down to and started on our breakfast; bread, a muffin, an apple and some mini quiches, nice things to eat on the bottom of a canyon, don’t you think. It wasn’t long before the pilot was hurrying us along, and Alan shared the remaining Champagne between us and the other few on the flight, ensuring as always that good alcohol does not go to waste. After flying back over the desert, we got back to Vegas and took the scenic route. The pilot started at one end of the strip and flew close to all the Casino’s, which looked different from the air, Trump tower shimmering in the sunlight. We landed and despite been advised to tip the pilot we decided against this (we had already spent enough on the flight) , which led to a slightly awkward departure!

That afternoon we decided to go to The Gun Store and after an unnerving bus journey we found the store and entered . After looking through the huge collection, Alan decided on a Colt and after donning protective glasses and headphones we went inside the ranch. At $20 for 20 rounds, a handgun seemed the best value and soon Alan was firing away like a pro. He was surprisingly a very good shot and hits to the face were most common. Taking away the target as a souvenir, we got a bus back to our hostel, Alan looking slightly more macho than on the bus ride in.

That night, we decided we couldn’t face another buffet and tracked down an Ethiopian called Meskerem, recommended in our travel guide. This couldn’t have been more of a contrast from the busy casino buffets; we were the only people in the restaurant, apart from the slightly eccentric woman who worked there. The atmosphere was quite surreal and music seemed to turn itself on and off at its own will. Having never eaten Ethiopian previously we asked the waitress to recommend us some traditional dishes, which she did most happily. After a short wait the meal arrived, a huge pancake like bread known as injera, with curried meat dishes and more injera around the sides. No cutlery is traditionally used and we scooped the meat and curry with bit of bread, which soon becomes very messy. It was definitely the most unusual meal we have ever eaten, but it was very tasty and a very welcome change. After the meal, we waited far too long for a bus and after seeing 13 head the opposite way, decided to take the perilous walk home.

Despite having a good tome, we were happy to be leaving Las Vegas the following day and it was nice to know we would no longer have to cope with crazies and unreliable buses and we went to bed that night feeling excited about driving to the more relaxed San Diego the next day.