DAY 30 - The Sea World Experience

No rush to get up today as Sea World doesn’t open until 10am.  I thought it decidedly expensive at $70 but in the end, had to accept that it was good value.  Of course there is Pleasurewood Hills and the Great Yarmouth Seaworld experience as a basis for comparison but this was in a different league.  The entire place was spotless, everything was in tip top working order, there were plenty of toilets and places for childrens’ buggies to be parked, food was abundant if pricey and every feature had a gift shop to extract every last ounce of cash.  There can be no doubt that America does theme parks very well indeed.

Entering the complex one is struck by the vibrancy of the flowerbeds and although borders and shrubs were more muted around the park everything was maintained to an exceptional standard. 

No dying plants, no weeds and everything looking very cared for.  We started out on the Skytower which helped to orientate us.  This was basically a viewing platform that rose vertically from the ground and spiralled through 360 degrees to offer a panorama of the whole site.  The first sea experience was the ‘Wild Arctic’ which was themed like an Arctic Research station with a wrecked ship on ice floes in the animal areas.  Everything was visible both above and below water so I got up close and personal with beluga whales and turtles but the polar bear lay comatose on a rock so was not visible under water. 

From here it was on to the ‘Penguin Experience’ where an Antarctic backdrop hosted an improbable range of penguins.  On to ‘Turtle Reef’ and ‘Shark Encounter’ before my first encounter with the theatrical part of the day.  I caught the end of ‘Clyde and Seamore’s Spooky Adventure’ in which two sealions and an uncooperative otter hunted for a missing will.  This ended with the two human characters dancing with the sealions to Michael Jackson’s ‘Killer’.

From here I went to make sure of the Shamu Show which was clearly the day’s hi9ghligt as everyone on the park seemed to be headed there.  This was a BIG production; video screens behind and the whole performance set to loud music as the Killer Whales were put through their paces and successfully saturated most of the people sitting in the “Soak Zone”.  Before the show there was much made of the work of Sea World in terms of the conservation of marine life.  Vendors plied a brisk trade selling strange looking Shamu soft drink containers at $11 a go.  Refills were only $1!

Afterwards people were invited to dine with Shamu.  A special viewing platform adjacent to one of the tanks allows diners to see the whales up close, for an extra fee.

Next up was the dolphin show.  It was hard to see how they could top the Orcas but what they lacked in bulk, they made up for in numbers and athletic joy de vivre.  Additionally, humans were part of the show both in and out of the water and there was a narrative theme with elements of circus thrown in for good measure. 

At intervals exotic birds zoomed through the set as well.  This was a long way from the dolphin show I remember on the Gold Coast when we went to Australia in 1979.

After all this anything else was bound to be something of an anti-climax.  An hour was spent at Old San Diego, which is now a State Park and the old town has been re-created on its original site as far as possible. 

This really needed more time to study the museum exhibits as well.  Heading back to the camp site we stopped for an authentic fish taco.  It was OK but I can’t see why some rave about this sort of food.  I enjoyed a swim in the heated pool and a wallow in the spa bath before preparing food.  The old pasta-tuna-sweetcorn thing again but this time I used Crackerbarrel cheese rather than the cheap American stuff.  Much better!!

Early start tomorrow as we head into the desert where temperatures are expected to be over 36°C

DAY 29 - Down to San Diego

One thing I failed to note yesterday is that although in many ways California is the most liberal state in the USA it is also the most highly regulated.  This sign is a good example.

One thing I’ve noticed in the 3 hostels stayed in so far is how noisy the Japanese are; not in a rowdy sort of way but just in their general progress around the building.  I share a room with an elderly Japanese who has told me that he too is retired and on holiday by himself at the age of 66.  We struggle to communicate as his English is poor but is still 100% more effective than my Japanese.  Anyway, everyone else tends to creep in and out of the room for fear of disturbing others.  Not him.  He crashes through doors is if everything will open if you simply charge at it hard enough!

There is really not much to report today.  We left on time and drove on massively wide concrete, bumpy freeway varying between 4 and 7 lanes.  After 2 hours we seemed to have left Los Angeles.  An attempt to find a supermarket failed as there was nothing where the GPS system seemed to suggest one should be.  We did find one a little further along.  After a brief bit of countryside urbanisation re-started and we were in San Diego.  On the approach there was a decidedly European gothic style cathedral by the road which turned into something a bit more modern as we got close.  I noticed signs warning against Car Pool violations, for which the penalty is minimum $341 or, in some places $351.  Apparently this is the result of an attempt to preserve the outside lane for cars containing at least 2 persons.  It’s really not trying very hard, is it?  Sam says that on the east coast the crucial number is 3.  However, most prosecutions result from drivers reporting offenders on their cell phones.  So, there are people driving quickly on a motorway who have the time to ring the police whilst driving and report people with empty cars.  Very Strange!

We set up early at the Camp Ground in San Diego (Campland on the Bay) and set off for the beach as, guess what, the sun has decided to shine.  The waves were very powerful but I did venture in.  I also managed to jog for about a mile along the beach which is the first time anything like this has happened in ages.  During a brief walk I found a surf simulating machine thing that looked exciting and noted the regulations about what could be taken onto the beach.  How can they be enforced?  The Life Guards use their vehicles to drive along the beach and shout at swimmers who are doing silly things.

Returning to the campsite I noticed a number of homes flying the American flag and decided to count.  By the time we got back I’d reached 3.  Not conclusive evidence of anything but definitely 3 more than the number of Union Jacks in Reepham.

There were two other Sun Trek groups  in the camp site and we shared a campfire on the beach.  One group seemed very young and included an Australian couple with two children.  As they were from Melbourne we had a bit to talk about.  They have an early start tomorrow so went to bed early.  As we are a day behind that’s what we have to look forward to tomorrow.



DAY 28 - Santa Monica end of Route 66

This was not a day from which I expected much but I’ve ended up rubbing shoulders with both ends of the economic spectrum, albeit inadvertently and met both High and Low Culture in all its richness.  As a geographer I’ve always been perplexed by the notion of ‘place’ and what it is that makes one place different from another.  Perhaps it is the job of the geographer to cast light on this matter.   One difficulty is that we tend to classify places such as rural or urban, manufacturing or market town and harbour preconceptions about places on this basis.  I have a distinct preference for the rural and the wilderness and therefore tend to not see what is present in other places as my notion of place has a distinctly subjective element as well.  Santa Monica was firmly in my ‘Tourist Resort’ box so I’m glad that the effort was made to get out and about a bit.

I enjoyed my first lay-in of the trip and forced myself out of bed at 7.30am.  Setting out to hunt for breakfast I discovered that it was provided in the hostel as part of the price.  An early walk proved that the weather was still overcast and that the thick lawns overlooking the beach provided ideal sleeping conditions for the homeless; at least I assume they were homeless and not just drunk. 

Back at the hostel I managed to get all my photos downloaded to an appropriate place and got the blog up to date despite the weak and intermittent wi-fi here.  Out for coffee, then back to attempt Skype calls home.  This involved wandering around the hostel to find a good signal; normally found in corridors or places where noise was at a maximum.  Consequently, the calls involved much shouting on my part although I could hear the English end perfectly.  Mission accomplished, it was time for lunch which was taken as a breakfast in the Mexican café opposite the hostel.  My “Santa Fe” included a huge omelette with chorizo, cheese and other things, dressing, guacamole, chopped tomatoes and onions, corn tortillas and a big green chilli.  I tried this with some trepidation but it was both hot and flavoursome so I managed to eat most of it.

This left the afternoon to take care of.  The map showed a museum/gallery of modern art so 24 blocks to the north and the delights of the boardwalk or even Venice Beach.  The Gallery won so I set out on foot.  All went well until, on getting close, the area seemed more like an industrial estate.  Uncertain, I studied the map carefully which attracted the attention of a lady who put me on the road.  This unasked for help seems to be pretty common here and most welcome too.  The site was indeed like a set of factory units; no gallery as such but studios and display areas for working artists.  Unfortunately, most of them weren’t working.  I hadn’t even thought to ask if this might be a problem; perhaps my Eurocentricism is showing through.  Anyway, congratulations to the James Gray Gallery and the Lois Lambert Gallery which were both open and willing to let me take photos.  In one, I found a book called “A complete manual of things that might kill you” and pondered the wisdom of buying it for an ex-colleague!!

On the way I’d noticed an “Alley Party” setting up so on my return I strolled past the security to take it all in.  The party was to celebrate the Crossroads School 40^th Birthday and I assumed it to be a fundraising event. 

Most of the stalls were dispensing food and drink but no money seemed to be changing hands.  I was immediately struck by the quality of the Band playing; very loud and completely clear with all the elements in balance and no sight of a mixing desk.  Watch out for the band, Blowing up the Moon.  They may play bigger gigs than this. 

Intrigued, I asked a man who seemed to be with the band how old they were.  He hailed from London “Been here 30 years and love it!” and said they were all 16-17 year old high school students and the sound was good because the quality of the equipment was first rate.  On asking whether the event was a fund raiser his eyebrows rose and he said “They don’t need fundraising, most of the parents here are millionaires”.  You couldn’t tell! Apparently the party is funded every year by the parents as a thank you to the community. 

People such as Dustin Hoffman and Dennis Hopper (and others) sent/send their children to the school.  As I left the lead singer/guitarist switched to a $10,000 Gibson.

Strolling back I watched a softball game and the experts on a skateboard park unlike anything seen in the UK.  The whole thing was set in concrete and had an air of permanence about it. 

Indeed, some of the skaters were closer to me in age than the teenagers around them.  By the time I hit 6^th street the beggars were out.  Each seemed to have their pitch and there was no attempt to move them on.  Life generally, seemed to swirl around them although some had sizeable collections of notes so they cannot have been completely ignored.  I had to admire the style of one, a black man dressed in a smart blue boiler suit holding out a silver serving dish for contributions.

A quick pause for refreshment and I set out for the boardwalk which marked the end of Route 66.  All manner of seaside entertainment was available but down on the beach I found Arlington Cemetery West.  Here were crosses to mark all the 6,000+ US servicemen killed in Iraq and Afghanistan and ten flag draped coffins to represent this week’s toll.  A notice claimed that if the Iraqi dead were acknowledged they would have to cover the entire beach in crosses.

The man who seemed to be in charge told me that it was a protest against a worthless war, one that they couldn’t pull out from and gave Bin Laden everything he wanted.  Meanwhile, up on the pier you could spend money on a variety of things

1.      Mexicans who painted colourful scenes in oils on pieces of glass before sealing them with another sheet.

2.      Chinese clay modellers who produced a life like head of sitting models

3.      Having your photo taken with a star.  The life sized cut-outs were very faded and not much business was being done here.

4.      Tarot reading – past, present and future.  No takers here either.

5.      Give money to people dressed up as film characters.  Some did and some didn’t but a forlorn character in a red dog suit (Pluto??) seemed to be carefully avoided by the throng.

By the entrance was a man in a chair with a bubble blowing machine who held up a sign with the word “Oops” on it every now and then.  There may have been a reason but this eluded me.

Finally, we all met up for a meal and went to a Pizza place on the pedestrianized 3^rd street.  The buskers were out in force and two in particular were in a class of their own; both were selling CDs at a reasonable rate.  The first was Amy May, British and the second was Sammie Jay.  Google them, they may be stars of the future.

DAY 27 - Hollywood

If anything, the fog thickened overnight so we packed up some rather damp tents.  As the next two nights are in a hostel in Los Angeles I wonder what they’ll be like when we unpack them again.  A brief run brought us into the affluent Spanish Colonial style town of Santa Barbara, although, as in many places there were still homeless people out on the streets begging openly.  Unfortunately, most shops didn’t open until ten o’ clock and the Art Gallery I found, exhibiting Picasso and Braque, not until midday.  Still a cheerfully helpful man told me where all the main attractions were and the information was passed on to the girls. 

                                                        Not everyone is affluent in Santa Barbara

At least a Starbuck’s was open for business so I sat down with the New York Times for half an hour in an attempt to catch up with what is happening in the political world of America.  Two stories caught my eye.

The first concerned one of the legacies of George Bush who passed a “No child left behind” Law in 2002.  The main thrust of this policy was to make all school students numerate and literate by 2014 and progress was to be monitored by annual standardised tests sat by all students.  Schools identified as ‘failing’ would be shut down.  Concern has grown that many teachers are now teaching for the tests and excluding the broader curriculum in order to do so.  President Obama proposes to let individual States to apply for a waiver from these strictures but the path seems rocky as the test results still form an important part of annual teacher assessments.  All of this seems a bit familiar to me.

Gail Collins, http://www.nytimes.com/2011/09/24/opinion/perrys-bad-night.html?_r=1&ref=gailcollins writing about the potential Republican candidates expressed concern about the incoherence of both the leading candidates, seen to be Senators Rick Perry and Mitt Rooney at this stage.  It would appear that both have introduced what would seem to a neutral observer, to be socially worthwhile pieces of legislation.  Rooney has introduced Health insurance for the uninsured in Massachusetts whereas Perry has enabled College Tuition for the children of illegal immigrants in Texas.  In the sparring that is part of the run-up to the Presidential elections both have chosen to rubbish the other’s policy in public!!  Statements from both candidates seem to have the same crystal clarity that we associated with George Bush.   It appears that those Americans who voted for Bush did so on the basis that if he got in trouble, his parents could help him out!!!!!

Refreshed and entertained by this I visited the Casa de la Guerra, a superbly well restored home of one of the first Governors of California.  Part of the complex is built in a Moorish style and houses a seriously classy restaurant, El Paseo, as well as a very expensive wine merchants.  I was politely moved away from this as they didn’t open until midday. 

This was probably a good thing as the cheapest wine I saw was over $40 a bottle.  From here I returned to the Court House, allegedly the most beautiful public building in the country.  On limited evidence I would have to agree. 

Again, the whole thing was constructed in Spanish style around a central lawn and most of the courts were open for viewing.  Over the main entrance was the motto, “God gave us the Country – the skill of man built the town.”  If God did the former, it seems probable to me that he provided the skill to do the latter as well.

Leaving Santa Barbera under a still grey sky we departed for Los Angeles where we are due to spend two nights in a hostel.  I have to confess to being underwhelmed by this but it is the price to be paid to combine the Grand Canyon, Monument Valley and other scenic wonders.  We drove through Beverley Hills and down Sunset Boulevard before spending some time on Rodeo Drive, where all the expensive shops are.  All the top labels were present and not a price tag in sight.  I decided to photograph some of the displays and once again, was asked to move from a store so exclusive that it appeared to have no name.  I was allowed to photograph from the pavement and once we had negotiated where this started I got my photos!

Next stop was Hollywood itself and the site of the Oscars ceremony at the Kodak building.  Thronging with people, this was not my scene but there was plenty to divert the mind with people touting for tour groups and lots of street artists dressed up as stars of the screen.  Most of the shops were filled with the rubbish typical of tourist places the world over.

Eventually we made our way to the hostel in Santa Monica and, after a shower we went to a Thai restaurant for a meal.  Strangely, the girls were served with wine here but afterwards we split up to enjoy the rest of the evening.  I was drawn to an English pub where world cup rugby was being played.  The beer (Bass) was foul but the rugby excellent; what a great game it is!  I enjoyed the second half of the Tonga v. Samoa game in the company of an elderly but knowledgeable Japanese couple.  It seemed so much better than the American Football I’ve been trying to watch whenever the chance has arisen.  Tomorrow, the girls are bound for the Pinewood Studios but, having seen two studios already this year I think I’ll have a quiet day and charge up the batteries for the rigours ahead.

DAY 26 - Steinbeck Country

Last night ended with instruction in the arts of Shithead and Asshole: both games that I suspect I’ve played before but with different names.  Both drinking games, I can only be thankful that this was a dry run.  Sam is well equipped with better cooking utensils than the last tour, which helped the spaghetti, and airbeds, which supplemented by my own made for an excellent night’s sleep.

We left on the dot of 8.30am for Monterey, which as a Steinbeck fan since I first read “The Grapes of Wrath”  at the age of 18, I’ve wanted to visit ever since.  I’ve re-read it on the Kindle as we’ve crossed the USA and I now realise how important a book it was for me.  I think the economic circumstances of the early 1930s are happening again now and it is as if nothing has been learned from the experience.  Is it not the greatest failing of history that we seem to learn nothing from it?

The route to Monterey crossed predominantly flat land that was cultivated on a larger scale than previously.  The main crops seemed to be strawberries, artichokes, green vegetables and lettuces with immigrant labour (I presume) busy gathering the harvest in.  In places new strawberry fields were being cultivated and elsewhere they were already under plastic so one assumes that strawberries are harvested virtually all year round.

As might be expected, Monterey has turned into a typical tourist attraction, with a particular emphasis on food, but the vernacular architecture of the sardine canneries as been preserved pretty well.  Tourists really must consume vast quantities of food if all the enterprises there are financially viable.  The town was made famous by the ‘Silver Harvest’ (and Steinbeck writing about it).  As we drove away I downloaded ‘Cannery Row’ onto my Kindle and am already well into it!

The industry was started by a Japanese immigrant, Otosaburo Node in 1902, when he moved his abalone operation to Monterey and set up the first cannery on the row.  The business was bought out and sold a couple of times before the basic product; sardines fried in peanut oil and canned began to gain popularity during the First World War.  The original working boats were too small for both crew and catch so a lighter that could hold between 25 and 60 tons was towed behind the catching vessel.  As there was no landing dock, fish were transferred by hand into a metal bucket holding 600 pounds and each bucket was winched into the cannery weighing room.  This was undoubtedly a hard job at the end of a day that that involved catching the fish in the first place.  In 1927, one Knot Houden, frustrated by the slow technology in place introduced purse seine fishing techniques and introduce a more rapid method of unloading the catch.  Floating wooden hoppers were anchored to the sea bed and connected to the canneries by an underwater pipe. Now the fishermen simply had to shovel their catch into the hoppers from which it was simply sucked up into the canneries.  Here the fish were processed: cans were stored on the inland side of the ‘Row’ and sent across the street on covered crossovers to the canneries.  Once canned, the sardines made the return journey before being transferred back via the crossovers that are still preserved today.  The heyday of the industry came with the outbreak of the Second World War but the new techniques were so effective that the bay was fished out rapidly and production fell by 80% between 1941 and 1943.  So, an important industry rose and died within 50 years and today no large scale fishing takes place at all and the canneries have all been demolished or converted to a tourist function with Steinbeck featuring strongly as a theme.

                                       Affluent tourism and dereliction all in the same shot!

From Monterey, we headed south along what should have been a highly scenic experience.  The road is perched on a steep cliff with sheer drops above and below to the ocean.  Deep canyons cut in from the left.  At one point the road had been washed out and recently repaired.  Despite the promise of blue sky above the quality of the views was largely academic as we were mostly shrouded in fog.  Occasionally the walls of mist fell back and we were able to manage a few photos. 

 Our lunch stop was in a lay-by as the restaurant opposite wouldn’t let us set up on the same side of the road!  The road verges were pretty with a variety of plants; fennel, California poppies, nasturtiums and something looking like cat mint were all things I could recognise.  I caused a little consternation when I picked a few nasturtium leaves and added them to my salad.  There is also a lot of reedy looking grass that might well be a form of mini pampas grass.  Continuing the journey we had a photo stop to look at a large group of elephant seals; ugly looking creatures who seemed perfectly content to wallow in the sand, stirring a flipper now and then to throw fresh sand over themselves. 

A Wallmart stop at San Luis Obispo before more travel to El Capitan State Park where the campsite was.  There is a clear distinction between State and National Parks and the two we’ve seen so far at distinctly down at heel, but at least the pitches are spacious.  Sam did the cooking, BBQ chicken and sweetcorn and the meal was enlivened by the arrival of a skunk.  Sam really freaked out and scared it off whilst the rest of us were reaching for cameras.  He claims that if it had sprayed the equipment, our trip would have been effectively ruined.  Nice to know my snoring isn’t the worst thing that can happen!

DAY 25 - Heading South

New day, new adventure.  Now it’s America Southwest.  Refreshed by a night in a proper bed I rose early, went for a walk, had some breakfast and downloaded photos and added them to the blog.  There are no additions to the party so my travelling companions are two Swiss girls, Vanessa and Evaline, and an Australian called Jenna.  Our tour leader, Sam arrived at 9am on the dot and introduced himself and we quickly loaded up and headed out.  He is much quieter than Rick so this trip may be more restful!

We seemed to get out of the city centre very quickly and headed south on the {208} with bright sun overhead but with thick fog to the left over San Francisco Bay and over the hills to the right.  South of Daly City we had our first view of the Pacific, shrouded in fog.  A shopping stop at a Safeway to gather provisions for two days and we headed off south on Highway 1.  Fortunately, HSBC seem to have lifted the block on my debit card so I was able to draw my contribution to the food kitty.  Perhaps last night’s stroppy e-mail did the trick but they may already have acted on previous instructions.  I don’t care so long as I can get money when I need it.  It seems strange to be buying alcohol who would be legally allowed to do it for themselves in the UK but I didn’t have the heart to say ‘no’.

The road was dramatic, or it would have been were the sea visible.  Steep slopes to the left and a 100 foot plus drop to the beaches contained in little bays.  Vegetation was little different to anywhere else but there was more greenery and reed like plants.  Eventually the land became lower and irrigated agriculture took over; mainly fruit and veg such as sprouts, artichokes, leeks and soft fruit with flowers in places.  We stopped at Swanton Berry Farm for lunch.  This was a small organic enterprise which operated on an honour system for all sales.  Delicious jams and home-made pies were also on offer.  We all picked a small batch of strawberries for lunch; their season is much longer than ours.  Good value and good tasting as well.

After lunch we headed down to Santa Cruz where the sun finally made an appearance.  It was like a small Blackpool with a much better standard of exterior decoration. 

                                                                   Victim of nylon fishing line?

As the season ends on 2^nd September most of the concessions were locked up and the place had the typically redundant air of a coastal resort out of season.  I walked out on the pier where there were still people fishing – nobody caught anything!  They never do when I’m watching.  I found the seals resting up under the Boardwalk and after much fiddling with the manual settings on my camera I finally took a reasonable picture.  Thanks for the lessons Manuel!

After a little sunbathing we found the campsite and set up tents.  Not exactly a KOA but the New Brighton State Beach is spacious and is right beside the ocean, at least the premier sites are but we can still hear the sea!  Whilst on the beach we met a friend of Sam’s, Alia who was leading a 3 day tour to Los Angeles with a single person.  She said that she had been complaining about the horse-riding experience we endured for three years!!  It’s been wonderful to have such a low pressure day, to have written this up by 6pm and to start cooking in broad if slightly chilly daylight.

DAY 24 - San Fran at Last!

Our final day started early as we left the camp at 6am for the ancient Mariposa Sequoia grove 90 minutes away to the south.  These trees are truly magnificent and it is hard to contemplate their age.  One showed signs of fire damage that was 1,800 years old (the Romans were on Hadrian’s Wall) so how old was the tree?  Back to Hodgdon Meadow to break camp and clean up the equipment before the final leg into San Franciso started at 11.30am.  On the way I thought I saw a bear but this could easily be wishful thinking.

The forest soon fell away to be replaced by rounded scrub covered hills separated by deep valleys.  The wider valleys contained spreading grounds and flood control dams just like the video I’ve been showing students for the last 16 years. 

Dropping  below 1,500 feet for the first time in ages the temperatures rose  and the smell of dust and tarmac began to penetrate the van.  The hills became increasingly parched in appearance and reminded me of the Adelaide Hills when we visited in 1979.  Eventually, cultivated land began to appear with what I imagine were freshly planted potato crops ridging p the brown soil.  There were plenty of cattle but most were contained in huge feedlots and the land was used to raise their fodder.  In places maize looked to be at least a month away from harvest so I assume that two crops a year must be a common occurrence in this area.  The maize itself was much more closely planted than in the north.

The land became as flat as the Fens and irrigation channels watered the whole area.  Palm trees were spotted and many properties were surrounded by eucalyptus trees.  WE stopped at Modesta for lunch where Rick introduced us to the wonders of an ‘In and Out Burger’.  This is a small family owned operation along the lines of MacDonald’s with their own special added ingredients of quality and the special recipe.  I had a double burger, mustard fried, protein style and fries with a 7-up.  This means that I had two patties with cheese.  Mustard is spread on the grill before the burger is fried and the whole lot is wrapped in lettuce rather than a burger bun.  It was rather good and excellent value at just over $6.

We pushed westwards and eventually a range of brown hills thickly covered with windmills came in sight.  No problems with planning permission here! 

Finally, it was possible to make out San Francisco Bay with the hills beyond and the low cloud/fog rolling in under the Golden Gate Bridge.  Coming in over the Oakland Bridge the city looked as impressive as it does in films and on the many TV programmes that are based on the city.  Rick dropped us all at the hostel where I’m picking up the next tour which made things very easy for me.  We exchanged addresses and dispersed; it seems strange that after three weeks in such close proximity things can come to such an abrupt end.  In all, we covered some 4,800 miles.

In the hostel I discovered that I am no longer the only one on the next tour.  I was sharing a room with three young ladies; two Swiss and one Australian!  I can remember a time when this would not have seemed a bad thing but I thought that we all deserved a good night’s sleep and have transferred to a single room.  I’ve survived three weeks on the road and look forward to the many highlights that the next tour will bring.

DAY 23 - Yosemite on Foot

Considering the altitude the night stayed mild and dawned bright and clear.  Having done all the rushing around we were taken to the Yosemite Valley and given the day to do our own thing.  It is impossible to not be impressed with the management of National Parks in the US.  Every effort is made to make as much as possible accessible to as many as possible without destroying the natural grandeur and beauty of the places. Yosemite Valley is a truly global honeypot and runs a shuttle bus to convey people to the various trailheads and places of interest around the valley.

A famous photographer, Ansell Adams had done much to publicize the area with a series of dramatic black and white photos in the early C20.  Kate had spotted that a photographic tour, discussing his work and techniques was on offer so four of us rolled up.  A pleasant Californian, Michael rounded us up and completed the first part of the tour by walking backwards as he filled us in with the history of Ansell Adams.  Out in the valley the emphasis was much more on how particular shots had been composed and he provided us with a wealth of information about composition, some of which I hope I have taken to heart.  Whilst all this was going on deer grazed, evidence of recent bear activity was spotted and woodpeckers did their thing on an ancient dead tree.

After coffee, we split up to go our different ways.  I’d decided on a hike that involved a bit of altitude but opted for a conservative three mile round trip to the top of the Vernal Falls which still involved an ascent of 1000 feet.  Using the shuttle bus to get there I started out on a wide and bitumen surfaced track but just as I began to think that the challenge was insufficient it rapidly became much steeper.  You could contemplate pushing a child’s buggy up it but not a wheelchair.  At the foot of the falls I filled my water bottle and set forth along a natural track.  This soon turned into a virtual staircase and my heart pounded, chest heaved and legs felt most reluctant.  Before long I was counting the steps in blocks of ten and taking ‘photo opportunities’ as often as possible.  Disconcertingly, as I was ready to pass out near the top, a man came down the path with a heavy rucksack and barefooted!  Oh, there were also plenty of children leaping about like mountain goats as well.  For the first time, my New York Yankees cap ($4.99 in Wallmart) became a thing that attracted notice and numerous groups stopped to chat along the way.  I guess it’s the equivalent of wearing a Manchester United shirt in the UK.  The extra breaks afforded by these conversations meant that I was finally able to crawl out at the top of the Falls and enjoy lunch and a sunbathe.  I thought the beef and cheese roll I’d bought down in the valley expensive at $6.25 but it proved to contain half a cow and took fully 15 minutes to consume.

Deciding to make the walk circular, the map showed a zig-zag route to join the famous John Muir (one of the early pioneers in the area) trail I set off, little realising that both zigs and zags were uphill.  The NYY cap fuelled a few more conversations and I soon became aware that I was nearly up to the level of the next set of falls, the Nevada Falls.  I was advised to keep going and eventually slogged my way to the top.  The views up here were truly breathtaking and the air so clear, and the quality of light so bright that one almost felt that the granite monoliths that topped the valley could be touched. 

So the 3 mile, 1000 foot climb turned into a 7 mile 1,900 foot climb and I staggered back to our rendezvous well and truly exhausted.  We’d all brought a change of clothes and refreshed by a shower and shave in the Curry Village facilities I joined the others as we blew the remains of the food kitty on a pizza.  Back at camp a brief fire and a beer before bed at 9.30.  I was asleep within seconds.

DAY 22 - Into Yosemite

Apparently there was a bear in the camp last night; Manuel saw it and Lindy thinks she did.  I was dead to the world.  We were on the road at 8am and paused briefly at Starbuck’s, who produced coffee far superior to anything I’ve sampled in England within two minutes of opening shop.  Zephyr Cove, for that’s where we were is clearly a resort for rich Nevadans who need a place by the water.  Many of the homes were substantial but even so, the garages were often too small to contain the vehicles parked outside.  Many aspects of the global petrol crisis and concern for the environment have started to manifest themselves but reducing the size of cars is clearly not yet on the agenda.

Slow progress due to road works – I assume they are busy making sure everything is OK before winter sets in.  At least the work offers employment for ‘flagmen’ rather than mobile traffic lights that seem to be the case in the UK.  At the California border at Lake Topaz there was a check point (the first of the whole journey) on the look-out for illegal fruit, vegetables and plants.  We sailed through but a Japanese couple were not so lucky. 

 I think the problem was linguistic rather than contraband.  Now in our 12^th state of the trip we headed south through abroad valley to Mono Lake at a stately 55 mph which is all we were supposed to do in California.  The valley was very green and the use of sprinkler irrigation widespread.  From Mono Lake we turned westwards to start the steep climb into Yosemite.  Greenness soon disappeared and the growing hills were spruce covered like the Black Hills but the soil was lighter as white/grey granite was beginning to show through.  The road climbed to above 9,000 feet at the Tioga Pass and snow-capped peaks towered above us.  A brief pause for lunch and we pushed on towards Olmstead Point where the first of many photos  of the famous Half Dome were taken.  

It was now downhill to our campsite at the inappropriately named Hodgdon Meadow where tent sites were scraped out from the forest.  Facilities were very basic here.   Not that we were able to dwell on the matter as we set off almost immediately, minus the trailer for Glacier Point via Tunnel Point to take more photos of the massive granite mountains of the central Yosemite area.  

Task accomplished, it was back to Tunnel Point for sunset shots and then down to the Bridal Veil Falls for photos in the setting sun. 

We got back to camp in the dark and found no nearby accessible water.  Kate was on cooking duties and for once I’m glad that it wasn’t my turn.  The van was driven up to the main toilet block and we filled up all the available pots and pans, miraculously spilling very little on the way back.  Her stir fry was excellent despite my appropriation of half of her coriander the night before.  A camp fire was lit and much rubbish talked before we turned in.  Doubtless the arrival of another tour leader and some of his group were responsible for this.  Despite the comparatively short journey from A to B we had chalked up over 300 miles with getting to all the photo opportunities.