west coast: epilogue
after my experiences in nz i was really concerned that my jaunt in the states would be an umitigated disaster: happily, this was not the case at all. it was nice having floydie around, and i enjoyed the sense of liberation having a car gave us, but the main reason i was more satisfied by this one week than by my entire month in the antipodes was that the attractions were as impressive as they promised to be. the grand canyon, vegas, death valley, they were all genuinely astounding, as opposed to utter fictions dreamed up by some feverish, hyperbole drunk, (kiwi) tourist board publicist. when you add the relaxed vibe of san francisco, and some quality time with the rellies, you end up with a pretty succesful seven days. it is amazing that we were only there a week: i think that's another factor in my contentment, that we achieved so much in such a short space of time.
when it comes to travelling i am still undeniably more in my element in some third world hellhole, but this trip demonstrated that if the sights you are going to see are truly spectacular, you don't need to rely on a bird flu gauntlet of a journey to keep it interesting. oh, and two tacos for a $1: unhealthy, unclean, but ingenious.
not san fran
arriving in san francisco was strange for me: after six months this was it, the last stop. however our constant plans to do and see stuff meant i couldn't really linger on this for too long, so ignoring the bizarre sensation of being a few days from home, we set off to get the cable car and do our izzard homage, going down, down to alcatraz. no sign of freddy dingo, but plenty of bemused looks all round. alcatraz was interesting enough, but i have to admit it was more the izzard angle that motivated me.
this spate of televisual references continued throughout the day as we went for lunch at the in'n'out burger (the big lebowski... i know i should have gone to the one in hollywood, but hey) before going for a pint in hooters (wayne's world). hooters is a testament to tacky crap, a bar where unbelievably scantily clad, but not hugely attractive, girls serve beer and generally wiggle in the right places in an attempt to score huge tips: safe in the knowledge that we had insufficient funds to be hit by this too hard, floydie and i went in to be seated and served by the lovely annie. unfortunately she got things all wrong: rather then lavisciously making us believe we had a chance of seducing her by giving her a big tip, she saw my cambodia t shirt and immediately went off on a monologue about how she wanted to travel round se asia. she was actually quite good value, talked non stop, largely about her boyfriend (are they supposed to do that?) and generally was good company (certainly for a travel bore like me who will happily drone on about the places i've been too) rather than providing the flirtatious hooters experience we were expecting. i would have felt bad about our relatively (15%! the us is crazy) measly tip had it not been for the fact that she had confided that on weekends they expect to make $500 a night just in tips... i would kill to be an attractive lady.
the last days just flew by, spending a civilzed evening with my cousins for some good adda, and generally roaming the streets. and then the time had come... i went to the airport for the last time, checked in for the last time, had my shoes checked in for the last time, and generally had to deal with the realities of life that were fast approaching: cold weather and the real world, here i come.
yosoclosemite
the drive up to yosemite was gorgeous, winding up the side of a mountain with banks of thick, fresh, snow on either side, as alpine foliage drooping under the weight of fresh fall brushed the sides of the car. it was a startling contrast to the arid landscapes we had gotten used to, and served as yet another example of the spectacular diversity available around the west coast. unfortunately on arriving at the park gates it became apparent that entry without snow chains was not permissible: a hasty discussion led us to conclude that $60, on top of park fees, was simply not an option. i actually wasn't that unhappy: i would have loved to drive through, the splendidly titled, badger, but i really didn't feel that i had missed out in anyway. the drive up to the park gates had been so beautiful i was already feeling all warm and fuzzy inside (although not so much outside), so despite the obvious regret there was still a grinning face behind the wheel as we retraced our steps back down the mountain and towards san francisco.
after yet another long, straight, drive we got to the city. one of the joys of having floydie on board was his map reading skills, and after a few wrongish turns and a cup of tea in marin county i found myself navigating my dodge over the golden gate bridge... long, red, iconic, and inexplicably pleasing to encounter. pausing only to negotiate lombard street, the windiest road in the world and cracking fun to drive down (especially stuck behind some 4 wheel drive behemoth crashing into hedges and the like), we checked into the hostel and dumped the car. it had served us well, but i'd spent more than enough time driving and was ready for some manual foot power.
death valley
death valley is a rather extravagantly named basin of arid land, surrounded on each side by towering, snow capped, peaks. at 200m below sea level, it's one of the lowest points on the planet, and the mountains enclosing it serve to further illustrate this fact. i'd initally thought that this would just be something to drive through, but was unprepared for the spectacular, rugged, beauty of the place. walking out on to the salt flats, you can look around and see nothing but space, a common commodity in this part of the states, but rendered particularly beautiful by the magnitude and setting. it's still a bit ambitiously titled though: dry and desolate yes, but only one person died here in the mid nineteenth century when prospectors stumbled into it, and that was probably due to a dodgy burger from the other side of the ridge.
the season meant we didn't get the searing heat that descends in the summer, but the aggresive winds blew up a few sandstorms for me to gingerly drive through. our car didn't overheat as many do, but it did struggle as the road is at the perfect incline to confuse the hell out of an automatic: my poor dodge kept choking and wheezing as its shifted between gears trying to work out which of the two it was toying with was the correct one, and almost invariably making the switch a second too late. after a couple of days of totally smooth and silent driving it was hilarious to hear the car struggling like an asthmatic up some stairs.
eleven hours on the road, and i was beginning to struggle and really looking forward to ditching the car the next day in san francisco. there was still however one national park, yosemite, to go, which we would tackle refreshed after a night in a stereotypical highway motel in fresno.
awesome... like a hot dog
the grand canyon is the archetypical american icon, in that its most astounding quality is its sheer size. it's hard to explain just how impressive such an ostensibly mundane quality can be: not just the depth, but the width of this gaping chasm is so dizzyingly vast that it makes you lose all sense of perspective.peering over the ledge, it becomes hard to comprehend whether the opposing rim is a few kilometres or hundreds of miles away. after the disappointments of nz, it was a joy to be genuinely stunned by a much hyped attraction that actually proved to be so much more worthy then all the publicity.
sadly, the limited time available meant we could not spend nearly enough time at the canyon... you need at least a day to amble along the tracks on the rim and take in the full array of panoramic wonders. the real dream would be a hike down into the depths themselves: i'm not sure if it's possible, but to get down to the banks of the colorado river gushing through the canyon floor and looking up to see sheer walls and stars must be one of the most amazing sights possible, and certainly something that would drag me back to the west coast. still floydie and i had a good wander and were suitably inspired before heading back on the long dusty (we saw actual tumbleweed!) road back to vegas.
by the time we returned it was pushing ten and we were both shattered, but we thought we should really go and check out vegas on a saturday night. las vegas is like a big zoo: you just have to stand back and watch the freaks come out to play alongside the glitzed up suburbanites throwing money down the drain in a futile attempt to morph into high rollers. these guys are truly amazing: i saw one dude drop $3,000 in about a minute on a $1,000 minimum bet blackjack table without blinking an eyelid. floydie and i had both given big chat about setting aside $100 or so just to blow, but when it came down to it neither of us could manage it. i'm just so used to scrimping, i couldn't mentally program myself to throw money away, and after a couple of minutes it was clear that this was what was being done. to enjoy vegas you have to lose yourself and let yourself be swept away by all the bright lights, smiling hostesses, and general artifice, but to me it was so transparent so immediately i could only sit back and watch, rather then become one of the masses intoxicated by the false promise of instant riches... i've spent so long losing money, it was hard to buy into the dream that it suddenly wants to jump into your pockets.
as such we settled down on the dollar blackjack machines, wherein i invested a whole $4, kept myself amused for a couple of hours, and eventually won a massive $1. there's a lot of chat about the free booze you get in the casinos, and it is not a total lie: a waitress comes round, asks you what you want, gets you the drink, and all you pay is whatever you tip her. however english politeness and a communication mix up between the two of us meant that we ended up paying $10 for two beers. damn! still at least the waitress was happy... these things happen after a few days being harassed by the american tipping mafia.
