After a slightly bumpy but otherwise reasonable flight north I landed and was "de-planed" (the announcers annoying phrase not mine!) in Fort Lauderdale, Florida, early in the morning. With the day to wait before my onward connection I tried to find something to do... not an easy task apparently. After fruitlessly searching three of the four terminals for information I finally found a friendly member of staff who suggested a visit to a local shopping mall, so a shopping trip it was. I was just window shopping but it passed the time and as I was returning to the airport there was a tremendous thunder and lightening storm which provided a bit more entertainment.
Back at the airport I was finally able to get my next flight and continue to Las Vegas. It was bumpy most of the way and the incredible thunder and lightening storms continued to play out alongside so I didn't sleep much and was pretty tired by the time we landed. I was amused by the banks of bandit machines which greeted you as soon as you entered the terminal building - Vegas really lives up (or down) to its reputation! I caught a bus to "The Strip" and spent some time having a wander up and down to see the sights. It was a real buzz of activity with the bright neon lights, noise from the busy bars and casinos aplenty. Barack Obama was visiting the same day as me but he didn't appear to be frequenting any of the casinos I poked my head into, I guess he was being entertained in Caesar's Palace! Vegas was amazing to see but a short visit was enough for me, and not tempted to gamble away the last of my travelling budget, despite the lure of hundreds of thousands of dollars, if not millions, in potential prize jackpots, I made my way down to the Greyhound station to await my bus to Flagstaff. I was soon to discover that US bus stations, like the buses themselves, are the worst of any I've travelled so far. A bit sterile and unwelcoming, not particularly comfortable places, manned by gruff looking security patrols and with authoritarian tannoy messages blurted out periodically it was a long wait until the bus was due. Finally on board the crowded bus even I suffered from limited legroom so heaven help taller people, but by that time I was so tired it didn't take long before I fell asleep despite the cramped conditions. I was joined by a guy from NZ, but now based in Dubai, who was a bit of a character and we had a good few laughs over the course of the journey at the expense of the driver and a woman in one of the front seats who managed to talk non-stop about nothing at all from beginning to end rarely drawing breath or listening to each other! A bit unkind of us perhaps but it was fun and it helped pass the time as we rolled through the vast desert.
When I got to Flagstaff I liked what I found. It's not a huge place, with about 60,000 people, but has a friendly small town atmosphere to it making it feel even more compact. There are a number of attractive heritage buildings around the centre and with Route 66 and a busy railway line running through the middle of town it was a pleasant place to wander and spend time. The hostel was quite nice too and with plenty people travelling Route 66 and/or there to visit the Grand Canyon there was a good mix of folk. On my first night in particular there was a nice crowd in the hostel and we passed the evening quickly as we chatted, laughed and enjoyed some pizza and red wine. If time hadn't been running short on me as the end of my trip approaches I could easily have spent longer in the area. My main reason for visiting the area though was to see the Grand Canyon and I certainly wasn't disappointed by what I saw. Even the run out there from Flagstaff was nice: it was a bright clear morning and the wide empty road crossed green fields and grass floored woodland and the mountains still had little pockets of snow clinging to the tops. Arriving in the national park I got out the bus and with little in the way of signage to suggest which direction to go I wandered through a souvenir shop and as I came out the other side I found myself looking straight into the vast beautiful expanse that is the Grand Canyon! It is incredibly deep and an amazing array of sheer rock faces, intertwining valleys, rocky stacks, caves and overhangs. The colours are amazing too: deep red sandstone, bright light limestone, dark black rocks and also quite a lot of greenery either clinging to the canyon walls or edging the rim with cactus, potentillas, wild flowers and pine trees. I stared out just mesmermised by it all. Its a real mass of rock and valley and stretched off to the east, west and straight ahead to the other side of the canyon. When I say other side it maybe gives the impression of a clearly defined chasm but thats not really the case, complete as it is with indents and side valleys. It is so deep too that its generally impossible to see the valley floor. Over the course of the day I walked various sections of the rim and once or twice I could make out the wide river below but that was an exception and even then it looked more like a little muddy trickle rather than the wide river it is. Taking one of the shuttle buses, which constantly run back and forth throughout the canyon area, I went along to Yaki Point. As I sat there drinking in the landscape a couple of Californian Condors soared overhead adding to the spectacle. From there I walked along the rimside trail as it followed the edge sometimes closely sometimes set back a little through the surrounding bush. It was just lovely, and even when a few peels of thunder rang out, the black clouds raced in and the heavens opened it was still attractive. I took another bus, this time in the opposite direction and got out at Hopi Point. By the time I got there it was dry again but the black clouds and rain mists hung within the canyon, and, being lit by the twinkle of the reemerging sun it made for a very dramatic picture. The path at that point was unsealed, narrower and rougher than in some other sections so it was also quieter and I enjoyed the walk along to Mohave Point where I finally had to leave in order to return to the centre in time to catch my bus back to Flagstaff. It was a great day in an incredible environment. If I had had more time to play with I would have loved to go back to the canyon and hike down into the valley, or head to Sedona to visit the incredible red rocks and hiking trails around there, but, with travelling time now rapidly running out I had a schedule to stick to and had to catch the bus to San Francisco.
The buses in USA were mostly completely full and heading to San Franciso was no exception. Another irritating trait is stopping in the middle of the night for a driver change: unlike in other countries here you have to get off and reboard, and generally the stops come when you're in your deepest sleep and would like to remain like that for a few more hours! Nevertheless we made it safe and sound with only the crossing of Los Angeles providing much of a diversion from the endless multilane highways. LA itself was busy and grey and the famous Hollywood sign was only just visible in the gloom, and it was a bit surreal driving past the famous street and area names such as Santa Monica Boulevard, Hollywood, Burbank and so on. When we finally arrived in SF, however, I really enjoyed my time in the city. The place has a bit of character to it. Virtually all of the buildings have some degree of cornicing, bay windows and or colour washing to them making them quite attractive and not seeming like endless streets of exact replicas. Also, with the city being built on a series of hills you go up and down whichever direction you walk so the views are always changing. It was while climbing yet another of these hills that it donned on me what effect the altitude must have been having on me in La Paz, though I didn't appreciate it at the time. There I would always be peching by the time I got to the top of a hill, but climbing a similar incline in SF I was fine. I had a really enjoyable time wandering the city whether it be around different neigbourhoods, up and down the "crookedest street in the world" (famous from so many movies the tight zig-zag bends are edged by hedges half hiding the cars on it and almost making them look as if they're totally enclosed), through little gardens, along the pleasant harbourside walkway and attraction packed 'Pier 39', or in large parks and reserves. Much of the time the weather remained disappointingly overcast but on one day while I was visiting Golden Gate Park and the De Young Art Museum the sun broke through and it turned into a lovely bright day. While I didn't find a lot to my taste inside the building, the angular structure itself was a bit more interesting. Very modern in style it's clad in hammered copper, has a hanging corridor seemingly balanced in the air and a tall observation tower providing a lookout point across the city and ocean. With the sun coming out it reflected off the copper making it sparkle enticingly. It was while up in the tower that I could see that the Golden Gate bridge was no longer hiding in the mist either so I decided to walk down to have a closer look at one of the city's most famous landmarks. Leaving the park I headed off down main avenue in that general direction. I figured it should be a pretty straight road with just a slight deviation onto another path not too far from the bridge. Hmm, well, lets just say it didn't quite work out like that! All was fine until I reached the point to deviate off the main road. As I skirted round a local neighbourhood park to join up with my next path I must have got slightly disorientated and after a while I realised I must have been walking roughly at right angles to the direction I should have been. However, once again it was a pleasant area and after altering course again I landed at the entrance to the Presidio, another huge reserve of parkland, and a sign indicating a hiking trail to the Golden Gate bridge. As I followed it it took me through some lovely forest paths in complete peace and through lovely areas of ivy and wild flowers. In a clearing amongst the woods was a striking sculpture called "The Spire" which was constructed from a few huge tree old trunks. As the path wound on and on I thought I'd never reach the bridge. It was a lovely walk but at the same time it was taking ages, time was marching on, and I wanted to get a decent view before the light faded or the mists rolled in again. Just as I began to think I'd been really daft not to have hopped on one of the many buses which had passed me earlier I finally reached Crissy field. It was an air base back in the 1920s and 30s, is now being redeveloped into a nature reserve, is a super wide open space and provided me with a good view of the iconic bridge. It was great to finally be able to tick it off my list of places I'd wanted to see, but if I'm honest the Bay Bridge closer to the city centre is a more impressive piece of architecture in my eyes! Fortified after a visit to a cafe there I started back into the city along the bayside trail. It was yet another lovely walk between the shore and marshy ponds and the bog-liking and salt loving greyish leafed plants which accompanied it. As I got closer to the centre and back beside the busier roads I marvelled at some of the grand houses and their amazing views over the ocean. Some had huge picture windows looking over the water and I couldn't help but think their window cleaners bill to keep them so sparkling must surely equate to some people's mortgages! Needless to say I was pretty shattered by the time I finally got back to the hostel but it had been worth the miles of walking.
A visit to Alcatraz had been another of my 'must dos' for the city and while the prison is much smaller than I'd envisaged it was an interesting visit. The ferry ride across only takes about 10 minutes and on disembarking a park ranger gave a little spiel about the island itself. A short film then plays giving a brief history of the place from its initial use as a military fort guarding the bay in case of wartime attack, to the high security prison, its prisoners and the correction officers and families who stayed there, then, after the prison was closed, the occupation of the site by the Indians trying to highlight the decades of their misrepresantation and mistreatment of their land by succesive governments. After watching it I entered the prison proper where audio guides were provided and led you round from area to area telling the stories of some of the more famous inmates, various escape attempts, and general conditions and regulations. It was intersting and amazing to see the tiny cells in which the men were kept and to look at the gun corridors overlooking the cells and think of the guards patrolling there. The cells were three tiers high but there were only four rows of them and only about 200 men were in there at a time. Completing the complex was a large and apparently well used library hall, dining hall, tiny visitors wall, then just the wardens office, admin block and contol room. I enjoyed the interesting commentaries and although the building is now empty and benign it wasn't too difficult to imagine the atmosphere of tension, anger and resentment which would have once permeated.
With San Francico added to my list of cities I'd be happy to revisit I once again was on the move and heading towards Seattle. I was interested to watch as the landscape got greener and more wooded again as we headed north. Washington would certainly seem to live up to its licence plate claim to be 'The Evergreen State'. By the time I reached Seattle I was back into hot sunny weather so I checked into my hostel (which turned out to be comfy and really handily located - a real bonus as I'd struggled a bit to find one at all) and got washed and changed as quickly as I could in order to enjoy what was left of the day. After a quick circuit round the centre of the city on one of the free town bus services the friendly and helpful bus driver suggested I visit the sculpture park, and so I got dropped off at the appropriate stop. I never did go in to it though as I was lured by the charms of the adjoining Myrtle Edwards Park. On such a lovely day it was fantastic: a boardwalk was edged by lovely planting and bushes as it hugged the clear waters of Puget Sound. There were a few logs floating in the sea and at the reclaimed and re-established Pocket Beach a little sandy bay was adorned with many more sunbleached old logs making a perfect resting place amongst the rocks. The bay has been cleaned up in recent years, apparently, with kelp beds established to encourage fish back to the area. On the other side of the path a nice grassy area had several little trees dotted along it and benches to allow you to sit in the shade and enjoy the views and quiet despite the proximity to the city centre. There was a little rose garden coming from the variety of blooms and also several little beds of seapinks and minature conifers. I kept walking along enjoying the sun, warmth, the lapping water, pretty landscaping and darting swallows until I reached a grain pier at the end of the park. Much of the grain arrives by train and just then a great long trained pulled in reminding me of the huge horn honking processions in Flagstaff (they seem to start sounding their horns at one side of town and don't stop until they're leaving the other side so there is no chance of ignoring them!). With time going on I turned back and got to the hostel just in time for the free spaghetti dinner on offer. I expected a very basic affair but it turned out to be a huge and tasty spread. Alongside the pasta there was a meat and a veggie bolognese, a mixed vegetable medley, platters of lettuce, tomatoes, peppers and garlic bread and a big bowl of parmesan cheese. Needless to say it was a popular offer so the place was buzzing with people blethering making for an enjoyable night. As if we hadn't eaten enough the night before a complimentary breakfast was provided too: bowls of orange segments, pineapple pieces and chunks of banana; bread and spreads, jugs of pancake batter for you to cook as you wanted, eggs for scrambling and the ubiquitous pots of coffee. All in all there was no way anyone would go hungry at "The Green Turtle"! Afterwards, with only a morning left for Seattle, I went across the road to the Pike Street Markets and had a great time browsing round the stalls and little shops. There was an incredible array of fish, flowers, fruit, jams and pickles, cheeses and local craftwork. It was a busy and colourful sight and there were lots of sampling opportunities to be had (as if I hadn't had more than enough to eat at breakfast!).
Time passed quickly and before I new it it was time to catch the ferry to Canada. Despite dire warnings on board of potentially rough seas it was a super flat crossing and I was entertained by a group of 5 ladies of a certain age who were sat at the table behind giggling and laughing infectiously as they planned their girls' week away. Then came their realisation that they had bought pounds of necterines and cherries at the markets but you can't take fruit across the border into Canada! You can, I'm sure, just imagine the hilarity that followed as they tried to munch their way through as much of it as possible, all the while trying to work out if and how they could smuggle the rest into the country!! When we did dock in Victoria my luggage was soon unloaded and I was quickly stamped through immigration. My only slight disappointment was that with only Canadian officials present in Victoria I wasn't able to get an official US exit stamp in my passport to complete my now sizeable collection, but, hey-ho you can't have everything. It was, however, a very strange feeling knowing that I had finally reached the last country on my itinerary.
