These
journeys left me with a hefty amount of time on my hands. There’s nowhere I can escape to. I’m bound to my seat accompanied by a random selection
of people.
Although
you have the risk of snorers and chatty insomniacs, night journeys have
actually been the best. It’s the one time where it is socially acceptable to be
quiet, ergo I can avoid mundane small talk. I can tune everyone out with a
simple switch on my mp3 player. It is inevitable that I won’t get a good night’s
sleep but time seems to sail by mysteriously.
Long
journeys by day can be painful. Without sleep, I get frustrated being rooted to
one specific place for a prolonged time. I have been lucky in the past and met
some great people – Mel and Steff are testament to that – but for the most part
I get bored.
With
over three hundred miles to cover from Joshua Tree National Park to Grand
Canyon, relief came with the odd tourist stop.
First
stop…
London?
Old London Bridge
My
eyes weren’t deceiving me. We stopped off at Lake Havasu City which houses Old London Bridge. The story goes that in 1962 the London Bridge was on its
last legs and needed to be replaced. Originally constructed in 1831, this
bridge was an antique. Robert McCulloch, founder of Lake Havasu City, submitted
a bid of 2.46 million dollars.
Placing
the winning bid was the easy part, lugging all those bricks across the pond was
a challenge and a half. Each brick was numbered, shipped and driven to the site
where it took just over three years to assemble. Piece of cake really.
Seeing
cobbled stones and a red telephone box did give me jolts of nostalgia and I
seemed to be the only one smiling at this point. Everyone else was underwhelmed.
Our
next stop received a bigger reaction. I don’t think we could have tried to be
more American as we pitched up along the iconic old Route 66 and devoured
peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.
It
was my first time enjoying the popular combination and it was tasty. I wasn’t
expecting to like it.
Before
we hit the road again it was time for a toilet break. We all entered the back
yard which was filled with random corny knick-knacks. This place was outwardly
cheesy which would certainly give tourists a laugh.
An
injection of fresh music made the last part of our journey more bearable. I got
on really well with tour guide Ken so I had someone to talk to whilst everyone
else slept.
Due
to the heat, thirst and the fact that everyone had just woken up, the mood once
we reached Grand Canyon was slightly sour. It took us so long to get there, we
just wanted to see what all the fuss is about. Ken had other ideas and gathered
us round and handed us a flat piece of khaki cloth. What the…
So
we’re to tie this piece of cloth around our heads so it covers our eyes? We
looked at each other dumbfounded whilst hordes of tourists flooded past us. Are
you mad?
We
reluctantly followed our orders but soon broke out in laughter at the foolishness
of it all. Once we were blindfolded and couldn’t see a thing, Ken positioned us
one in front of the other. Each of us held out our right arm and clung to the
person in front of us. Ken then guided us to the viewpoint. I could only
imagine what the masses of people around us were thinking. We did look like we’d
stumbled off a special bus.
As
all my inhibitions drained away, I actually realised what a clever idea it was.
Grand Canyon is flipping ginormous. As you walk up to the viewpoint you’d be
able to see it and take it in gradually. We didn’t have that. As soon as we took
off our blindfolds, BAM! I couldn’t ask for a better moment.
Holy moly!
Looking
out from a generic viewpoint wasn’t enough for us, we needed to get a better
view of this vast landmark. Helicopter? Go on then!
It
was a pricey excursion but I’ve never been in a helicopter before and I really
wanted to go out there. Also, everyone else was going up so I’d definitely feel
like I was missing out if I didn’t go.
Yet
again, I had to get weighed. Naturally I was the heaviest against my petite 19-year-old counterparts. On the plus side, my weight somehow meant I needed to be
up front to balance out the craft. See, my badonkadonk has its uses!
Despite
the fantastic views, I still managed to drift off towards the end. Whoops. I
wasn’t the only one at least. It was a great experience and money well spent.
When
we got back we spotted Ken having a kip on the sofa. Before we woke him we took
a few photos, naturally.
Wakey wakey!
It
had been a long day and we were all beat. We headed off to camp. It was a lot
larger than the previous camp we stayed at. I had no idea where the showers
were. By the time we set everything up it was dark. I decided to hang around
and wait to go with someone else. I did not fancy getting lost in the woods.
Dinner
came in the form of hot dogs and corn on the cob. We failed to get our barbecue
going so sheepishly Ken had to use somebody else’s. We were so hungry we didn’t
care where we got our food.
After
our food settled we started a fire and got to toasting some marshmallows in preparation
to making s'mores. Yet another American masterpiece that I’d not had the joy of gobbling.
There is a knack to making the perfect s'more and I did a fair job. I slowly
toasted my marshmallows, making sure that it toasted enough to be gooey without
burning the outer layer. In the meantime I had my crackers and Hershey’s
chocolate ready.
At
this point I would like to add that this would be the only time that I’d ever
eat Hershey’s chocolate. It’s what is traditionally used for s'mores but if I
had a choice it’d be thrown into the fire with the wood. That stuff is vile! I
hope Americans don’t actually call that stuff chocolate. I’ve chewed on pen
lids that tasted better than that stuff.
Somehow,
the magic of the s'more means that you don’t really taste the Hershey’s. It’s a
sugary sandwich of goodness. I had three (two marshmallows in each!) but felt like I was edging on a high
equalling Bart and Milhouse’s syrup bender.
I did not fancy a sugar hangover. I felt good though and went to sleep feeling
happy with the day’s events.
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