Coast To Coast '83

Coast to Coast – Days 18 to 24

Costa Mesa, CA

Whilst our Coast to Coast trip is ostensibly a holiday, the constant driving and nomadic nature of the trek are hard work. On the other hand a week in Costa Mesa, being spoiled by Jacqui and John in their lovely home is indeed a holiday. And the longer our Southern Californian sojourn has gone on the more I have wanted our adventure to end here. As it is we are are only half way the return trip to DC still to be undertaken - albeit accompanied by an additional driver in the form of my mate Eric, who is flying out from the East Coast to join us.

So what did we do during our ‘holiday’ week. Well, being close to Anaheim we quite naturally spent a day at Disneyland, which was suitably heartening. 

Photos; Disneyland, Anaheim, CA

We also relaxed on Newport Beach and I swam in the Pacific. 

Photos; Relaxing on Newport Beach

We toured the Orange County coastline visiting Corunna Del Mar and ate out at Toni Roma’s Spare Rib House. 

On day four we drove down to San Diego to visit its world famous Zoo followed by a tour of the city centre. 

Photo; San Diego Zoo

We visited grand shopping malls, made numerous trips to the beach and in the evenings sampled lovely barbecued food. 

Photo; Newport Beach, CA

Photo, Jacqui, Dave & John 

Photo; Crystal Cove, CA

Slowly we came to appreciate why California is the golden state and why Jacqui and John have emigrated from Britain to live here.

On day six Eric arrived flying in from Washington DC via Minneapolis. In his 25 years of life he has never been further west than St Louis MI. His first remark on being picked up from LAX Airport was how lacking in humidity the air was compared to that in DC.  

I drove him back to Jacqui and John’s where he was made to feel entirely at home. Being a keen astronomer he was eager to visit Mount Palomar and its famous telescope. 

Photo; Mount Palomar Observatory

So within the hour of his arrival we were off again to Mount Palomar arriving with barely fifteen minutes of opening time left. They kindly let us in and Eric saw the scope. But he was less than impressed. With shadows starting to lengthen we headed home stopping off at Nada Point to take photos. 

“I’ve never seen the sun set over the ocean” said Eric.

Photo; Sunset over the Pacific at Nada Point

Come evening J & J cooked a Roast Lamb dinner to which they also invited fellow travellers Lloyd and Harold. They were good company and seemed keen to gain our impressions of the trip so far.  As we will be heading off tomorrow, bed time was not long delayed. The final night in a comfortable bed for some time to come.

Trip Details;

Weeks Mileage; 365

Total Mileage; 4157

To be continued ......

Coast to Coast – Day 17

Costa Mesa, CA

After sixteen days on the road, what a joy to wake up knowing that we didn’t have to rise at some ungodly hour, dismantle the tent and head off on our westward journey. It was 9.30am before I surfaced some time before Dave who made the most of a comfortable bed and warm bedclothes. Outside the sun shone brightly but the air carried none of the humidity that we have experienced on our trip.

Neither Jacqui nor John was in but on the kitchen table sat an inviting box of cornflakes. What a treat after the stodgy mundanity of jam butties and, when they were unavailable, doughnuts. A welcome shower came first after which I poured myself a bowl of cereal and went out onto the delightful patio to eat it. John lectures in Horticulture at Orange Coast College and his garden is a tastefully crafted personal space reflecting the knowledge and skills that he has acquired through teaching and travel. Up above the Californian sun shone brightly. I was living the dream.  

Last night’s late arrival gave little time to unpack so having finished breakfast I started lugging items from the car into the house. I was on my third run when Jacqui, driving her little Ford Capri, pulled onto the drive. Though she had just endured two hours of dental surgery but was still upbeat giving me a big hug as we greeted one another.

Her arrival provided a ready excuse to suspend the unpacking as, for the next hour, I described the details of our trip so far. She was a willing listener which only served to encourage me more. Perhaps roused by our occasional bursts of laughter Dave was not long in surfacing prompting another enthusiastic welcome from Jacqui. She’s always had a soft spot for him.

Jacqui made us feel totally at home and after sixteen days behind the wheel it was a pleasure just to relax in the back garden and chat. John had spent his day in Los Angeles finally returning at 7pm. He is an introvert to Jacqui’s extrovert and took a while to warm to our presence.  In the evening Jacqui cooked a lovely meal of chicken, new potatoes, green beans and salad with strawberries and ice cream to follow.  

Later on and somewhat surprisingly mum and dad called, tipped off by a mutual friend in Wolverhampton who had spoken to Jacqui last night following our telephone call from Las Vegas. Despite the distance the line was remarkably clear and with two phones in the house Dave and I managed to hold a three way conversation with them. Such are the marvels of modern technology.  It was good to update them on the trip so far and they were obviously delighted that we’d reached the west coast. “Thank god you’re safe” declared mum, employing an oft mocked Lancastrian phrase used by her mother.

Jacqui and John are in the midst of watching the BBC TV series Brideshead Revisited on PBS which is aired under the moniker “Masterpiece Theatre”. So we watched it with them. It felt more like being in England than California.

Trip Details;

None

The Day’s Mileage; 0

Total Mileage; 3792

Coast to Coast – Day 16

Las Vegas, NV

Our last day on the road for a while. I had been wrong in forecasting a calm night as the wind got up leaving us with a very dishevelled tent. In a change to the usual routine Dave was already up when I woke. But having planned to cross the Mojave Desert at night I was keen to get as much sleep as possible, a task denied oxygen by intense heat and an unyielding floor.

12 noon is the watershed beyond which one pays for the next day’s stay so just shy of that we departed the site and headed for The Strip. Shawn of the bright neon lights which provide a glamorous sheen it’s not quite the same in the stark light of day. 

Finding the same car park that I had used last night we made our way to the MGM Grand Hotel which like Caesar’s Palace was large, plush and intent on separating punters from their hard earned cash. We tried our hand at a number of pinball games, an endeavour whose only purpose was to confirm that I am not very good at pinball.  

The MGM’s most important facility was a payphone which I used to call Jacqui  Lenanton, wife of John and our hosts for the coming week in Costa Mesa CA. The call got through whereupon I informed told Jacqui that we were in Vegas and if all went to plan we should be with them by the early hours of tomorrow morning. Arrangements for getting into their house were finalised and knowing that we were now expected, I could put my mind to rest.

Leaving the MGM we walked the length of The Strip to the Fashion Mall an air conditioned shopping centre which seemed a strange place for us to visit. With little money and strict self imposed spending limits we were unlikely to purchase any of the highly priced trinkets that the Mall proffered. Still, we found a cafe for a fresh cup of coffee and by the time we left the Mall the temperate outside was slightly more accommodating.  

To the Imperial Palace, another grand casino but unique in its housing of an excellent antique car collection. Having spent much of our childhood making Airfix models of World War Two ordinance Dave and I were drawn to the Mercedes Staff Car which was once the property of Adolf Hitler.

Photo; Hitler’s Staff Car.

It’s a weird feeling to be in touching distance of such evil. Not far away was the Oldsmobile belonging to another kindly soul – Al Capone. Every six months the collection is rotated but whether these two cars remain in situ was unclear.  

With a couple of hours before sunset we returned to Caesar’s Palace, our favourite venue where Laura Taylor was about to begin her set. Once again free entertainment, all funded by the gambling. 

Departing was a wrench but with the sun beginning to set it was time to tackle the Mojave Desert, a classic hot dog providing pre trip sustinance. By 11.15pm we had reached Barstow. Here we stopped for fuel (7.1 gallons at $9.11) and I used the payphone to call John and provide an update. He gave me directions to their house saying that they would leave the back door open for when we arrived. He estimated another three hours to reach them and he was not wrong. Somewhat remarkably we managed to negotiate the southern Californian highway system without getting lost, reaching the outskirts of Costa Mesa by 2 am. It took us a further ten minutes to locate Jacqui and John’s house, where the back door was open and we crept in. Finding two comfortable beds ready and waiting within minutes we had literally crashed out. 

Trip Details;

Departed, Las Vegas, NV 7.45pm

Arrived, Costa Mesa, CA 2.10am

The Day’s Mileage; 283

Total Mileage; 3792

Coast to Coast – Day 15 

Flagstaff, AZ

Week three began with rain. And lots of it. The thunderstorms of recent days had not abated waking as we did in the midst of one. The trek to the washroom was taken in the hope that on our return it would have passed. Sadly not and after a forlorn ten minutes we were forced into dismantling a wet tent. Flagstaff is at 7,000 feet above seal level and this explained why it was so cool. For the first time on the trip I donned jeans a decision which, after an hour of driving, seemed vindicated as it was still raining.

By the time we reached Kingman it did not. Quite why I chose not to use the restroom at McDonalds to change back into shorts was a mystery. An hour later, as we crossed the state line into Nevada I was starting to overheat. So too was the Dart, a strong tail wind ensuring that little air passed through its radiator. I put the heating on full blast which sent the temperature in the car soaring. But it was no good. The temperature gauge remained worryingly high and 20 miles short of the Hoover Dam I pulled over to let the engine cool down. This seemed to work because for the final run to the dam the temperature gauge stayed within acceptable limits.

We wanted to see the dam so stopped again using the car park to the south of where the raised elevation gave great views of the dam and Lake Mead.

Photo; Hoover Dam and Lake Mead from the car park

It was around 90°F as we wandered down to the wall, lingering in the cooling spray which escapes from an overflow weir. We were not alone.

I then tested my vertigo by venturing out onto the dam wall proper. At 726ft high this was certainly tested though a chest high wall between me and the drop helped reduce the level of anxiety.

It’s a strange thing vertigo. I love fell walking and am okay at height until there’s a sheer cliff edge. it’s then that the fear sets in.

Photos, Hoover Dam, Nevada.

We spent a good half an hour marveling at this remarkable feat of engineering before returning to the car, whose engine was noticeably cooler than when we had parked up almost an hour earlier.   

If the Hoover Dam and the weird greenery of Boulder City were testament to man’s ability to fashion nature at will, then the sight of the towers of Las Vegas was even more surreal. Here in the midst of the mountainous Nevada Desert was the ultimate in nature defiance.

Our arrival in the city that never sleeps will be remembered, not for a tour of the famous Strip and its casinos, but rather something a little more prosaic. Another fruitless attempt to obtain cash from a bank.  It was only after a second failed attempt that we realised it was a Saturday when banks in Las Vegas are closed. All of which left us cashless in the world’s gambling capital. Some might argue “Well done”.

Locating the Las Vegas KOA we signed in, found a pitch and then headed for one of the two pools that grace the site. Once in the water was remarkably warm and we spent a small part of the time admiring the bikini clad talent enjoying the Nevada sun. Were it not for the need to put the tent up we would have probably stayed until nightfall.  As it was we needed a place sleep but so hard was the ground that the task of securing the tent proved difficult. We made the best of a bad job but with no significant wind forecast we are probably okay.

Such was the size of the site that organised a regular bus service to and from The Strip. But, when it came time to catch a bus, so long was the queue that it appeared the whole site was decamping into downtown Vegas. The service ran until 1am and with thoughts that we might encounter problems getting back I decided to take the car. Locating The Strip with relative ease we drove its length and were bombarded by a glittering array of neon lights the likes of which one is unlikely to see anywhere else.  

Parking the car in an attended car park we made our way to the impressive Caesar’s Palace. Into a vast hall where the air is filled with the jingle jangle of one armed bandits. Beyond that can be found the crap game, blackjack and roulette tables, three card poker and baccarat. Never had I seen gambling on such a grand scale.

Photos; Las Vegas Strip

The banks may have been closed but Caesar’s Palace was more than willing to exchange our traveller’s cheques for cash. We set ourselves a budget and chanced our hand at the roulette and blackjack tables where little was won. Budget spent we retired to the Olympic Lounge where Laura Taylor, a talented pianist/vocalist, offered free entertainment. All part of the gambling experience. With waitress service on hand we settled in to enjoy her excellent set. 

Trip Details;

Departed, Flagstaff, AZ 8.10am

Arrived, Las Vegas, NV 3.25pm

The Day’s Mileage; 172

Total Mileage; 3509

Coast to Coast – Day 14

Flagstaff, AZ

Before we set off on our Coast to Coast adventure I had said to myself that the one thing I wanted to see above all others, was the Grand Canyon. This of course raised my expectations and with that comes the possibility that disappointment might ensue. In that regard it could be likened to meeting your hero, or perhaps not in the case of Tom Watson.

I was up at 6am. The washroom however was packed and I had to jostle for a basin. Dave, who rose slightly later, was not so lucky. 

Photo;  Dave, pre Egg McMuffin

Clearly frustrated by his disjointed start I felt food might assuage his irritation so we headed to McDonalds for an Egg McMuffin. As you, do though the soothing impact was negligible. We then called at Food Store to buy provisions for the day and with that in effect was it.  Off we then headed to the Grand Canyon a mere 77 miles away.

The journey along Route 64 takes you through coniferous woodland, similar to that which we had seen in New Mexico. And the nearer we got to the National Park the more I regressed to my childhood as a high degree of excitement took over.  As with all the National Parks we had so far visited the organisation was one again exemplary. Parking near the west rim we were directed to one of the many shuttle buses that operate in the park. Hermit’s Rest seemed to offer a good starting point our reasoning being that we should see canyon first and then return to the Visitor’s Centre. It is a relatively short ride but as we got off my abiding memory will be the sight of a young couple having what was clearly the most unpleasant of rows. No matter that they were in touching distance of one of the world’s great natural wonders. The red mist had clearly descended blotting out everything else. 

The two of us shuffled by, as unobtrusively as possible, and headed to the Canyon’s edge which was suitably spectacular. Its depth, its width, the River Colorado flowing way down below and the myriad coloured layers of rock. It was a visual delight and at times all too much for around every spur was a fresh vista each as spectacular as the last. 

Away in the distance storm clouds loomed, the grey streaks that hung from them ample evidence that heavy rain was falling. Every now and again a fork of lightning would prick at the desert floor seemingly in retribution for some misdemeanour. It certainly added to the sense of awe.  

We spent most of the morning on the rim and by the time we returned to the car we were both feeling hungry.  The Visitors Centre was far too busy so we got in the car and drove to the east rim to find a quiet rest area in which to have lunch. At such a late hour most of the picnickers had long since had their food and we were left to share our cream cheese sandwiches with a couple voracious crows.

The east rim with equal too, if not more spectacular than the west and at every viewpoint I took the opportunity to take photographs – not unlike the Japanese tourists we’d seen during the morning. How the cycle of wealth moves on. Once it was the British who dominated travel, then the Americans and now the Japanese.

We chose Desert View as our final stop from where it was possible to admire the sun flirting with the clouds.  It was quite magical.

By the time we set of to return to Flagstaff the sun had almost set. We headed for Cameron a route which took us through new desert scenery.  For much of the way the road ran parallel to the Little Colorado, which by English standards was far from little. We finally returned to our campsite at 8.30pm, very tired but having enjoyed the most spectacular day. The Grand Canyon had exceeded expectations.

Trip Details;

Departed, Flagstaff, AZ 8.10am

Arrived, Flagstaff, AZ 8.30pm

The Day’s Mileage; 192

Total Mileage; 3337

Coast to Coast – Day 13

Canyon de Chelly, AZ

Rare are the occasions when one actually prefers rain to sunshine. Rare are the occasions when it rains in a desert and in the midst of summer. Yet it did today and in so doing made driving all the more comfortable. It was also good for the Dart ensuring that its engine remained at an equable temperature.

Three weeks ago I was living the life of a lazy student, rarely rising before 9.30am. Yet now early rising is part of my DNA. Up at 7am, shave and wash in the communal washroom, tent down and off, all by 7.45am. First stop the Painted Desert National Monument which by 9.30am, was already brimming with tourists.

Not wishing to spend much time amongst the throng we paid a brief visit to the Administration Building and gift shop before making our way into the park and the many viewing points. Here in this desolate, inhospitable place were mile upon mile of literally painted desert the banded mounds in shades of white, grey, red and blue iridescent in the early morning sunshine.

Photos; Painted Desert, Arizona

It really was other worldly and with the sun yet to reach it apex the light was perfect to capture its beauty on film.

From the Painted Desert you pass seamlessly into the Petrified Forest which is not a forest but rather a high arid region that was once inhabited by trees which subsequently died due to lack of water. Then with the passage of time they transformed into mica. Although this change was in itself fascinating the many arboreal remnants lacked the visual impact of the Painted Desert. 

Photo; Tree remnants in the Petrified Forest, AZ

Departing the park we ran in to a violent thunderstorm which at one point deluged us with hailstones. 

Photo; Departing the Petrified Forest

And with that came the cooler temperatures that I had previously mentioned making the 80 mile drive to Flagstaff remarkably comfortable. It was around 2pm when we arrived in the town indelibly linked to the Grand Canyon. Finding the Flagstaff KOA, not the smallest campsite we have stayed on, we booked in for two nights and then promptly made our way to McDonalds for a Big Mac. It’s a treat.

Returning to the campsite another thunderstorm threatened and whilst we were not that keen to erect the tent this did much to dispel that. It was up within ten minutes and just as the last stake was secured the heavens opened. Ever the optimist (not really, pessimism being my default setting) I suggested that we drive down Oak Creek Canyon to Sedona, by which time the rain would have long since gone. If only.

Photo; Setting off for Oak Creek Canyon

Hindsight being a wonderful thing it would have been better had we stayed put. So torrential was the rain that Flagstaff’s main street became a river making progress very tedious. Eventually we escaped the melee and headed down the canyon during which it continued to pour. Reaching Sedona there seemed little point getting out. So we turned around and headed back rain accompanying us all the way, dulling the spectacle of the conifer laden slopes. Indeed it rained all evening. By this time we were tucked up in our tent and with our night on Coors a distant memory we cracked open a couple of bottles of Mickey’s Big Mouth and began to reminisce on the trip so far.  There have been the inevitable sibling niggles but nothing seismic. The car is holding up and overall it’s going bloody well.

Trip Details;

Departed, Canyon de Chelly, AZ 7.35am

Arrived, Flagstaff, AZ 1.40pm PST

The Day’s Mileage; 240

Total Mileage; 3145

Coast to Coast – Day 12

Bloomfield, NM

Having last night discovered the sorry state of the Dart’s fan belt, the day’s priority was to get it replaced. So having departed the campsite we made our way to the local Shell garage to arrange a repair. Since reaching “the West” I have learned that things do not quite happen with the rapidity that they do in the East. The Shell garage was devoid of custom yet it was fifteen minutes before we were served.

Our mechanic did not foster confidence for having opened the bonnet he proceeded to inspect the engine rather diffidently as if it harboured some “Alien” type creature. I explained that the fan belt needed replacing only for him to ignore this instruction by removing the belt that drove the power steering.  “No” I said “that’s the wrong belt. It’s the fan belt that we need to change.”  In the silence that followed and from his gimlet eyed gaze I realised that I had overstepped the mark. The belt for the power steering had first to be removed in order to get to the fan belt. Embarrassed I took my leave and left him to it. Fifteen minutes later and $6.72 lighter the Dodge had a new fan belt.  

Leaving Bloomfield, away in the distance was our first goal of the day. Shiprock, a monadnock, which like a thumb sticking out of a pudding 1500 feet above the high desert plain. Yet getting to within a decent camera range proved difficult until eventually we found a suitable promontory from which to photograph this impressive block of rock.

Photos; Shiprock

It was also here where I parted company from my treasured pair of sunglasses leaving them on the boot of the car as we drove off post stop. I sometimes wonder about them and how they have fared in the heat of the New Mexico desert.

From Shiprock the landscape became increasingly barren and it was during this stage that we passed into Arizona, our eighth state of the trip. As a dry number it sounds insignificant. But if one compared each state to a country the tally assumes far greater significance.

Photo; New Mexico, Arizona Border

Chinle was now our next goal a drive which took us through both stunning and indifferent scenery. We had also entered sparsely populated Navajo country an experience we both found slightly intimidating.  If the car happened to fail we’d be a long way from help. And in summoning help it was more than likely to be provided by a Navajo Indian who, whenever we had passed them, appeared less than enamoured with our presence.  Given their history one couldn’t blame them, but it did little to quell our discomfort.

Indeed by the time we reached Chinle leaving the reservation had become a priority and taking Route 40 we made our way to the National Park campsite at Canyon de Chelly. We had a late lunch before pitching the tent on a spot which was as free from ants as was possible, for they appeared to be everywhere.

Satisfied the tent was secure it was time to head for the south rim of Canyon de Chelly. Paul and Phyllis had recommended we visit, but had given little in the way of preparation for the visual assault that was about to great us. It helped that the dramatic spectacle was enhanced by a backdrop of thunder storms that raged all around. And the contrast between that and the tranquility of the canyon could not have been more stark the absence of tourists the icing on an enormous cake.

Photos; Canyon de Chelly from the south rim

From the south rim we drove round to the north and as dusk fell I looked on in awe at the sight of a lone Indian farmer tending a crop on the valley floor. It was a scene that had no doubt been played out by previous generations over hundreds of years and provided a poignant end to what had been a memorable day.  

Photos; Canyon de Chelly from the north rim

Trip Details;

Departed, Bloomfield, NM 8.30am

Arrived, Canyon de Chelly, AZ 20.30pm

The Day’s Mileage; 203

Total Mileage; 2905

Coast to Coast – Day 11

Santa Fe, NM

The first hour of Tuesday July 5th was shared with a severe hangover Dave vowing never to touch Coors again. Dismantling the tent proved a challenge and it was a relief when both it and our belongings were packed away. As for the remainder of the day it was one in which, yet again, we crossed landscapes of great variety as our westward trajectory continued.

University mate Chris Fuchs always argued that “Getting drunk gives you two good experiences for the price of one. The enjoyment of getting drunk (good), the hangover (bad) and the recovery from the hangover (good)”.  At 8.45am as we departed the site the bad phase was still in the ascendant with the good phase some way off. Our friends Phil and Jenny were still tucked up in their tent so there was no cheerio.

Despite the sore heads at least the sun was shining. Then again it’s done little else since we crossed the Mississippi. The day’s first destination was Los Alamos famous for its association with first atomic bomb tests. Numerous atomic research establishments remain, all tucked away in secluded nooks and all appearing to be offshoots of the University of California. Given that we were still in New Mexico this struck me as a little bit odd.

Photo; Santa Fe National Forest

Beyond Los Alamos we entered the Santa Fe National Forest the winding road climbing to a considerable altitude. As previously the higher we climbed the denser became the coniferous woodland. At one point the road opened out into a huge plain the scale of which was breathtaking. Perhaps struggling with his hangover Dave was asleep so he missed it all.

Photo; Bandelier National Park, New Mexico 

From this verdant landscape we progressed into the contrasting environment of mesa and butte country and on through the tiny settlement of Jimez Springs. The azure blue sky provided the perfect backdrop for taking photographs and I only hope they do justice to the conditions. 

From there it was a half hour drive to another significant milestone – the crossing of the Continental Divide where to the west all the water drains into the Pacific and to the east into the Atlantic.

From there it was literally downhill all the way into Bloomfield a section that took us through some quite unique farmland. Heading off in myriad directions were concrete irrigation channels feeding what can best be described as giant emaciated caterpillars on wheels from which water was sprayed onto the soil creating huge circles of iridescent green in a land starved of moisture. So this was the American agro business that ten months previously I’d been teaching to geography undergrads at Maryland.

Bloomfield would struggle to top a list of must see venues in New Mexico. But its campsite was clean and well laid out and it came with accompanying nodding donkey whose rhythmic genuflecting offered a novel backdrop. Thankfully they turned the thing off before it was time to put our heads down.

As has become customary following a long day’s drive I made a cursory inspection of the Dart’s engine. The fan belt was looking a little tired but was still sufficiently robust to manage a short trip into Bloomfield. Here we had our first taste of Mexican Fast Food in the form of Taco Bell Taco’s. Very good they were too.

Trip Details;

Departed, Santa Fe, NM 8.45am

Arrived, Bloomfield, NM 4.04pm

The Day’s Mileage; 247

Total Mileage; 2720

Coast to Coast – Day 10

Taos NM

With yesterday’s spat confined to history the desire to flee as soon as possible had also dissipated. The consequence; a leisurely rise and breakfast consisting of a sizeable jam buttie. The extra time also allowed me to examine the voluminous A.A.A. literature that I’d acquired back in DC. It was hard to believe that the combined value of all the maps, tour guides and camp books exceeded the cost of membership. Researching the day’s drive, Historic Santa Fe looked none too far away so we made that our next port of call.

Today is Independence Day and in a vain gesture of defiance Dave placed the Union Jack that he had brought with him in the Dart’s rear window. I wasn’t convinced that many in these parts would know what it signified. The drive proved surprisingly easy, the fast flowing Rio Grande our constant companion.

Photos; The Rio Grande River

By 11.30am we were booked in at a KOA campsite eight miles east of Santa Fe. Situated at a considerable elevation the dry sandy soil gave rise to an abundance of coniferous vegetation not dissimilar to the maquis on the French island of Corsica. It was still very hot but the site was blessed with a swimming pool where we spent most of the afternoon.

Come 4pm the temperature had dropped to a more comfortable level and we decided to drive into Santa Fe what could best be described as the Williamsburg of New Mexico. Up market gift and book shops, restaurant and bars surrounding a pleasing main square. 

The Atchison Topeka and Santa Fe Railway was one of the larger railroads in the United States and being a railway buff it conjured images of Santa Fe as a significant railway hub. I imagined there to be a significant railway yard but the gentrified charms of the town centre indicated otherwise. Other than the occasional single track line evidence of a major railroad was scarce.

Having taken in the charms of the town, the sight of ice cold Miller beer being served at a bar with parasol covered tables was too good to ignore. Sitting at one such table I asked the young couple next door “Do we need to go inside and order our beer?” “No. They will come and serve you.” And within a couple of minutes we had been plied with two ice cold beers.

As the first thirst quenching mouthfuls flowed down my throat I noticed that the couple we’d originally addressed were looking across at us with increasing interest. English reserve held firm until the lad eventually broke the ice by asking “Whereabouts in England are you from?”

“We live in Wolverhampton” which tends to draw a blank and thus ends any  further conversation. But not here as he continued “Whereabouts in Wolverhampton?”  “Tettenhall. It’s a leafy suburb north west of the town.”  “I know it.” he continued “I’m from Codsall.”  Dave and I couldn’t believe it. Here we were 6000 miles from home in the middle of New Mexico talking to a chap who was from a village two miles away from where we lived. It transpired that Phil was studying for a PhD at the University of Arizona as was his wife Jenny who was American and some months pregnant. I doubt that he will be returning to Codsall any time soon.  

Over numerous beers we celebrated Independence Day and discovered that our newly acquired friends were also camping. Still in need of a pitch for the night we recommended our KOA. We parted but within an hour had been reunited as they turned up at the site. Having picked up a 12 pack of very cheap Coors Beer we had much alcohol to consume. So once Phil and Jenny had settled in we rejoined them to reminisce on the Boston Tea Party and its error strewn consequences.  

Trip Details;

Departed, Taos NM 8.45am

Arrived, Santa Fe NM 11.30pm

The Day’s Mileage; 82

Total Mileage; 2473

Coast to Coast – Day 9

Tucumcari NM

Rose at 6.30am to discover that it was in fact 5.30am. Uninformed in such matters, yesterday we had crossed a time zone. More importantly we had left our cooler ice blocks in the camp shop freezer overnight and as it didn’t open until 6.30am we had an unexpected wait. When we eventually set off the unwarranted early rise went in our favour, extra mileage in the relative comfort of the cool early morning temperature being achieved. Dave on the other hand became unusually irritable the predication of which I remain baffled.

The spectacular rugged scenery provided a welcome antidote, as we found ourselves in mesa country. The higher we climbed the more prevalent has become coniferous woodland, a landscape I had not previously anticipated. Each new day has brought something fresh a hope that has been more than fulfilled since we set off.

The raised altitude was on account of us crossing the southern tail of the Rocky Mountains. They are North America’s spine a role they share with the Pennines in England albeit on a slightly grander scale.  To be driving along in temperatures as high as 80°F with snow capped mountains in the distance was quite surreal.

The beauty of the surroundings accompanied us in to Taos situated in the plain of the Rio Grande River. It was here that many years ago the northward moving Pueblo Indians decided to settle and influenced by their thinking we decided to do similar by making it our overnight stop. Though not a KOA the campsite was excellent but Dave thought it too barren. He was not keen to stay a view that gained favour following our visit to the Pueblo Village of Taos.  

By any measure the native Indians of North America have had been poorly treated. But the charge to view the village of Taos was excessive for what was on offer.

Photos;  The village of Taos, New Mexico

It left us feeling short changed and returning to the campsite, my disappointment spilled over during the pitching of the tent. Having failed to fit the support poles correctly Dave criticised my effort which was not well received. Throwing down my tools I exclaimed “Put the bloody thing up yourself then”.  “Excuse me” he said “I thought you are the one who’s supposed to be calm and collected one. Yet you’re behaving anything but”. Embarrassed, I had to agree and in that moment I began to hate the area. All I wanted was a plan to get us away from here as soon as possible.

But we stayed put, I calmed down and eventually we got the tent pitched. Knowing that the Rio Grande Gorge was close by, in the early evening we drove over there. It saved the day, being by far the most spectacular natural feature that we have seen so far.  

As a vertigo sufferer walking onto the bridge which traverses the gorge was a challenge but one worth the effort.

Photos;  Rio Grande Gorge

At such an elevation the Rio Grande took on the dimensions of a small mountain stream rather than the raging river that it actually is. We admired its grandeur for a good half hour before returning to the campsite where our neighbours had also returned. 

Warren and Judy hailed from Oklahoma and were spending their final night in Taos before heading up to Wyoming. No sooner had we introduced ourselves than they invited us into their caravan for drinks. Warren had an enviably dry sense of humour and we spent until the early hours discussing everything from tornadoes to the price of bologna.

Trip Details;

Departed, Tucumcari NM, 6.30am

Arrived, Taos NM 12.30pm

The Day’s Mileage; 185

Total Mileage; 2391

Coast to Coast – Day 8

Vernon TX

Languishing on a cold concrete floor lacked attraction leading to a 6.30am rise. Dave was already up having failed to sleep a wink and by 7am we were on the road, the cool morning breeze making me question why it had taken us seven days to realise this gain.

Route 286 between Vernon and Amarillo failed to impress, mile upon mile of flat plain providing little in the way of scenic appeal. We passed the time by estimating the length of a series of freight trains travelling along line parallel to the road. The wagons seemingly stretched over the horizon.

Photo; West Texas 

On the few occasions that we passed through small settlements there were regularly to be seen roadside stalls selling peaches. As the temperature rose ever higher the thirst quenching possibilities which they presented, forced me to stop just before the town of Memphis. Walking up to the stall holder it was as if I had just emerged from the pages of a John Steinbeck novel. Calloused sun burnt hands, a warm smile exhibiting a mouth devoid of front teeth. I bought two pounds in weight, said thank you and cheerio an exchange which brought barely a flicker. When it came time to sample my purchase these peaches were the sweetest, most succulent I had ever tasted. Even now I can still taste the juice.

Photo; West Texas

By noon we had reached Amarillo, immortalised in Glenn Campbell’s famous song and wondering what secrets it possessed that it should instil in him a desire to ask for directions. They weren’t apparent from the highway but perhaps that’s being a bit harsh.  Amarillo is the wheat capital of Texas and beyond it one wanders into more rugged scenery and it was during this passage that we crossed the Stateline into New Mexico. The arrival of a new state brought with it more upland scenery and by the time we reached Tucumcari, not only had it become hilly, but the grassland that had been for so long a faithful companion, had disappeared. I believe it’s chaparral country.

Photos; New Mexico

Knowing that further travel would be prove uncomfortable, we decided to make for the Tucumcari KOA. But rather than settle in we decided to return to town for food, the early morning peaches being all that we had eaten that day. A pepperoni and mushroom deep dish at the local Pizza Hut provided a rare treat. 

Back to the campsite and its swimming pool in which we were soon splashing around. Despite an air temperature in the low 90’s the water was still surprisingly cool. How can that be?  Anyway it proved entirely refreshing.

As in previous days putting the tent up was accompanied by a gusty breeze and hard ground. Dave however came up with a brainwave, tethering it to the permanent wind break which enclosed our pitch. Having slept so poorly last night I was not long taking to my sleeping bag.

Trip Details;

Departed, Vernon TX, 7.00am

Arrived, Tucumcari NM, 3.30pm

The Day’s Mileage; 284

Total Mileage; 2206

Coast to Coast – Day 7

Greenville TX

Having planned to spend part of the day in Dallas we got up later than normal so as to avoid the rush hour. Known as the New York of the Southwest the traffic however bore none of the aggression for which the former is known. Indeed the drive proved far easier than I had imagined and soon after leaving the highway we found a convenient car park close to the city centre.  

By 10am the temperature was already in the low 90’s and following the route in our Walking Guide became hard work. 

Walking Map of Dallas

On first impressions the city apes many American cities where striking skyscrapers rub shoulders with bland low rise buildings.

Photo; Downtown Dallas from Vernon Tower 

Our first stop was the St Vernon Tower from where we gained an excellent perspective of both the city and its surrounds. The size of the Dallas / Fort Worth conurbation is extensive and surprisingly wooded. From our viewpoint we could see the network of highway bridges and drainage channels which appear weekly in the opening clips of the TV programme Dallas. 

I like to get an early view of a city from a raised aspect because it permits both an orientation and an invaluable sense of perspective. No visit to Dallas would be complete without a visit to the infamous Texas School Book Depository the building from where, twenty years ago, Lee Harvey Oswald assassinated President J F Kennedy.  Standing in Dealey Plaza looking up at the building one couldn’t help but think whether things might have turned out differently had Kennedy survived.

Photo; The Texas School Book Depository.

Whilst it is far from a cultural haven, Dallas is nonetheless an interesting and, at face value, prosperous city.  

Photo; Hyatt Regency 

However it was the way in which its residents drove that made the biggest impression. Sedate and remarkably courteous I lost count of the occasions when a large car driven by a portly man wearing a ten gallon hat pulled up to let us cross the road. Ruthless in business they may be but their road craft was distinctly urbane.  

Before leaving the city we had lunch at McDonalds more out of a desire to escape the heat than to engage with a Big Mac and fries.

Photos; Downtown Dallas

It was then off to Wichita Falls a stretch which took us into the Texas Pan Handle characterised by flat terrain and intense heat. The Chrysler Slant Six is not blessed with the biggest radiator and it was not long before the engine temperature gauge rose to an alarming 250°F.  In order to prevent overheating there were numerous stretches where I had to reduce speed down to a tedious 30mph.  

Photo; Somewhere in the Texas Pan Handle 

It was not all bad. By 6pm we had reached Vernon TX home to another KOA, complete with swimming pool. Idiotically self conscious, on account of being a poor swimmer, I normally balk when offered the opportunity to swim. But after a long hot day behind the wheel on this occasion I decided to take the plunge. The water temperature was marvellous and it provided the perfect refresher.  

Photo; Vernon KOA

As the sun began to set, we made moves to erect the tent. And as with the previous evening the wind started to rise and once more we found ourselves surrounded by thunder and lightning. Thirty minutes later and from the direction of Vernon town centre came the ominous sound of an air raid siren; a tornado warning and this time it was for real.

A campground attendant appeared and calmly instructed that we dismantle our tent “if we didn’t want to see end up Oklahoma”.  For the next three hours we were entertained by the most dramatic electric storm, forks of lightning almost permanently emanating from a cobalt dark sky. Thankfully the bulk of the wind stayed to the west and we were able to view the spectacle in safety.

Come 11pm the all clear was finally issued. But with a strong wind still blowing neither Dave nor I fancied re-erecting the tent. So we spent the night on the floor of the laundry block. It must be said that I have enjoyed more comfortable nights.

Trip Details;

Departed Greenville TX, 8.45am

Arrived Vernon TX, 5.45pm

The Day’s Mileage; 236

Total Mileage; 1922

Russellville AR

Sensing a kindred spirit Alex treated us to a full English breakfast including bacon and fried egg, sausage, mushroom, tomatoes and baked beans. A proper cup of hot tea provided the perfect accompaniment.  Mary had long since left for work so it was left to Alex to wish us on our way. Once again the generosity has been exemplary.

Pointing the Dart in the direction of Hot Springs we headed south towards the Ouchita Mountains. Here the terrain was more rugged than Tennessee the prevalence of coniferous woodland providing an indication of our raised altitude. Driving along the empty highway was exhilarating even in the aged Dart.

Photo; Somewhere in the Ouchita Mountains 

Reaching the holiday town of Hot Springs we stopped to mail postcards and buy orange juice from a local store. The town was clearly geared to tourism aesthetics ranking low on the list of priorities.

Making our way to Interstate 30 we headed across the vast expanse of Lake Hamilton on whose placid waters were sailing dinghies and water skiers. It was now that America’s vast size hit home. 

Photo; Lake Hamilton

Here, in what is regarded as a bridesmaid state, we found ourselves driving through the most beautiful and varied countryside. It’s this diversity that Europeans find so difficult to comprehend and is ultimately the reason why only 10% of Americans hold passports. They have no need to leave their homeland.

Once again the car held up and stopping in Texarcana we ensured it continued to hold up by treating the engine to two quarts of oil. Here was also took time off for an extended lunch before the long drive to Greenville TX, thirty miles short of Dallas. By now I had envisaged us driving through desert, but was clearly wrong, surrounded as we were by a mix of woodland and green grassland. Come Greenville things were still very green and seeking out another KOA we stopped for the night.

It was another excellent site though for the first time since we set off we had trouble erecting the tent, a combination of uncompromising ground and strong wind the reason. Considering the degree of humidity the wind was a more than welcome friend. But on the third occasion that the tent sought to escape from its moorings, it became incrementally less so. Help however was at hand in the form of our next door neighbours from Kansas who enabled us to get matters under control.

Being from the Great Plains they knew much of that devastating weather system, the tornado, a relative unknown in Britain. As we looked north to admire a spectacular display of lightning they told us that we were safe as long as the wind continued to blow. If it dropped then beware. It did drop but the precise conditions to form a tornado mercifully failed to materialise.

Photo; Greenville KOA

That evening we drank a little too much Old Milwaukee beer. But it loosened tongues and for the first time since setting off Dave admitted that he was struggling with life at University. At school he’d been a lad full of bravado but since leaving home had retired into his shell and was feeling lonely. “The only time I feel happy is when I drink alcohol” he ruefully declared.

Trip Details; 

Departed, Russellville AR, 8.30am

Arrived, Greenville TX, 5.15pm

The Day’s Mileage; 326

Total Mileage; 1686

Coast to Coast – Day 5

Lexington TN

7am is an early time to rise but not in Lexington Tennessee. Like the sea at low tide well over half the tents and Winnebago’s that had been present the night before were already gone. At least we didn’t have to fight for a shower and within the hour were on the road accompanied by the sound of an unruly exhaust pipe.

Needing both cash and stamps - for the many postcards that were wending their way back to family and friends in England - we stopped off in the town of Brownsville.  The exchange of Travellers Cheques again proved a problem the signature I performed at the teller bearing little relation to that which is on my driving licence. I had to admit that they look very different and it took fifteen minutes before they released my cash. I sense this may become a recurring problem.

By midday the impressive looking city of Memphis was reached.

Photo; Memphis

But keen to get the back of the days driving broken we glided quietly by and in so doing crossed the Mississippi, an event which now placed us truly in “The West”.

Photo; Crossing the Mississippi

As the Arkansas State sign greeted us there was certainly a sense of achievement and in recognition Dave produced a couple of bottles Pabst Blue Ribbon from the cooler on the back seat. Having not eaten all day the alcohol went straight into my blood stream. For a while I was worryingly light headed and it was only when we passed an Arkansas State Trooper booking the unfortunate driver of a Corvette that a shot of adrenaline engineered a miraculous recalibration.    

Like Tennessee, Arkansas was an unexpected delight, still predominantly wooded but in the wake of crossing the Mississippi the land appeared to be getting flatter. This trend prevailed until we reached Little Rock, nestled in the foothills of the Ozarks, where tree covered upland returned. The air of beauty was enhanced by the late evening sunshine which was pin sharp.  

Our destination for the night was the town of Russellville where Mary McCormick, the mother of a close friend at University of Maryland lives. Following her directions assiduously once again we managed to get lost. The problem lay in Mary thinking we were travelling west to east when we were actually heading in the opposite direction. So when I turned left I should have turned right. I stopped at a Datsun car dealership to ask for directions. Here the franchise owner proved to be a man of great resource managing to locate Mary on the phone even though he had never met her. How did he do that?  Handing me the phone it didn’t take her long to understand where we were and very quickly she gave me a new set of directions.  “There won’t be anyone at home but park the car on the drive and wait for either me or Alex (her partner) to get back”.

Russellville lies in the Bible Belt where local county legislation prevents the consumption of alcohol. It was also rumoured that the wearing of shorts was frowned upon. We had a cooler full of beer and were both clad in shorts. The inauspicious start continued when, after an hour of waiting on the concrete drive, Alex appeared. Introducing himself with a thick cockney accent he asked “Does the car leak oil?”

Photo; Alex in front of his house in Russellville 

Knowing that it did I immediately reversed onto the gravel fringe. There in the midst of Alex’s pristine drive were two tell tale spots of oil. The Dodge had not let me down but I felt awful.

Understandably Alex was not best pleased but once conversation turned to matters British he mellowed. Mary was not long in joining us and after parlaying through the pleasantries of introducing ourselves we were given a tour of the estate where they live. My abiding memory will be the State Trooper who lived next door and who was still on duty with his colleague. One of them produced a fearsome looking dagger and took great pleasure in running his finger up and down the blade to test its sharpness. Meanwhile the other reached for a pouch of tobacco from inside the car and began chewing and spitting with undisguised delight. They looked mean buggers – which is no doubt the intention - and one can see why Southern State Troopers are viewed with a degree of trepidation.  

Later on Mary treated us to dinner and as a gesture of thanks we gave them a Stuart Crystal jug.

Trip Details;

Departed Lexington NC, 8.00am

Arrived Russellville AR, 4.25pm

The Day’s Mileage; 335

Total Mileage; 1360

Coast to Coast – Day 4

Waynesville, NC

Lucky to be alive, following last night’s driving exploits, the morning brought disappointment. It had poured down all night and part of me hoped that come break of day the rain would have long since gone to be replaced by an azure blue sky. Not so, a blanket of thick grey cloud dominant. But at least it helped formulate a decision. With cloud clinging to the aptly named Smokey Mountains, driving through them on the Smokey Mountain Parkway would have merely served as a Fog Driving Improver. I did not seek that badge. But it was not a total loss, the grandeur of this impressive mountain range still readily apparent from Interstate 40 as it wound its way through a succession of gorges and tunnels.

On into Tennessee and the start of a most unexpected stretch. It’s hard to say what I expected of the state famous for country and western music but it wasn’t the green tender landscape of wood covered hills that greeted us. Mile upon mile of it, an experience rare in Britain, where medieval forest clearance prevailed.

Photo; Heading west through Tennessee 

At Knoxville we stopped at a supermarket to buy provisions. Had it not been for the southern twang you would have thought we were still on the East Coast such is the uniformity of shopping mall design. With a bank available Dave chose to cash two $50.00 traveller’s cheques, a transaction that required ID. Taking none within ten minutes he was back at the car where a frantic search for his passport ensued. It eventually turned up in the one place I’d emphatically claimed that it wasn’t which left me feeling embarrassed and slightly relieved that I’d not lost my rag. Anyway panic over and cash exchanged.

Photo; Knoxville, TN 

Back to Interstate 40 heading towards Memphis, home to Elvis and Holiday Inn. Keen to avoid last night’s late denouement, by 5pm I felt it was time initiate a search for a campsite. And it was now that I began to question that unit of measurement known as a mile. I am beginning to think that a mile in England is equivalent to five in America.  

Leaving the Interstate I set our sights on the town of Lexington. On the map it looked around five miles. It was eighth before any form of habitation had been reached; a quaint service station nestling amongst trees much like a scene from an Edward Hopper painting. All that was missing was a solitary attendant and he soon appeared to put a couple of gallons in the tank. It was all I could afford, the petrol pump price much inflated in such an isolated place. As the petrol pump whirred I enquired as to the location of Lexington. Eye brows raised somewhat quizzically his voice carried none of the apparent frustration “You’re doin’ just fine. It’s a couple of miles down the road”.

Six miles on and with no sign of Lexington in sight I began to wonder whether I’d been sold a pup. We soldiered on for a further two miles and at last reached the outskirts of the town. Enquiries as to the location of its campsite, however, drew a blank. It was clear that our search had only just begun.

Seeing that petrol prices had returned to normal I decided to fill up. But as I drove off the forecourt from beneath the car came an ominous grating. Oh dear. An inspection revealed that the exhaust pipe had split. Three days in and the car was starting to crumble.    

By a dint of good fortune the broken section of pipe was resting on the back axle and was still firmly attached to the underside of the car ensuring that it was not scraping on the floor. We headed back to the Interstate.

It is often the case that when things appear to be dire, they turn out to be not quite as dire as was initially feared. And that adage held firm here. I had taken a bit of a gamble in returning to the Interstate but soon after we’d re-joined it there appeared signs advertising KOA Campsites. In need of shelter for the night we took the next exit and headed for KOA Lexington which was soon reached. Up until this moment KOA had been an unknown. But as I signed in at the office I discovered that it is a national organisation with sites scattered liberally throughout the States. A handbook listing all the campsites was acquired and over tea Dave and I studied their location. Sufficiently impressed by the facilities at Lexington we decided on a new route map based on KOA sites.  

Photo; Dave enjoying a beer at KOA Lexington.

The day was not quite done and before the light finally disappeared I had a further look at the exhaust pipe. Somewhat fortuitously the tail pipe has severed itself from the silencer at such a point that the majority of the exhaust remains intact and secure. So no major repair needed. Major expense spared.

Trip Details;

Departed Waynesville NC, 8.25am

Arrived Lexington TN, 6.40pm

The Day’s Mileage; 405

Total Mileage; 1025

Coast to Coast – Day 3

Williamsburg VA

Having spent the best part of the last month rising at a gentle 9.30am, a 6.50am alarm call was bordering on the barbaric. A shower and breakfast followed; two eggs, potatoes, English muffins, and hot dogs.  It is likely to be the last decent breakfast we’ll enjoy for some time.  

Photo; The morning of our departure. Dave and Charlotte with the Offley’ s Ford Mustang. 

Confident that we had packed everything it was with conflicted emotions that we said our goodbyes. I was keen to start heading out west but over the coming days we will neither eat nor sleep in such comfort.  Before leaving Williamsburg proper, I bought bologna for sandwiches and stamps for all the postcards we intend to write.

By 9.30am we were on Route 5 heading towards Richmond, what can only be described as proper motoring. A single carriage road, with an excess of long straight sections, ideal for overtaking. With broad leaved deciduous woodland on either side it reminded me of England. I wasn’t long before we turned south over the impressive James River, so impressive that I failed to record it. (ed. During the early part of the trip I note that I took very few photographs. Back in 1983 I used Kodachrome 64 slide film which was expensive and limited one to either 20 or 36 exposures (pictures) This limitation forced one to ration output such that only when the light was sufficiently good, or the subject matter of ample magnitude, was a picture taken).

Further on came St Petersburg where we joined Interstate 85 and set off in a south westerly direction towards Asheville in the foothills of the Smokey Mountains. This was a long and arduous section not helped by me having to do all the driving at a tortoise-like 55mph. (David has yet to pass his driving test). Fatigue began to set in.

Photo; Early evening amongst the Smokey Mountains  

It was with a sense of relief that we finally reached Asheville, North Carolina. But being 7pm it was a little too late to begin our search for a camp site. Matters were further hampered by using a map of insufficient scale and before long we got lost.

Eventually somewhere along the Smokey Mountain Parkway we ran into three motor cyclists who were resting by the road side. I stopped and asked for directions “If you take the road we’ve just come up, which is a couple of hundred yards along here ... you should be in Waynesville within 40 minutes” came the reply.  What they chose to omit was that the way ahead was not only winding but very steep and what followed was rather alarming.

If one were to describe the Dart’s brakes as responsive then you would be wrong. And as we began our descent of this narrow one in three gradient road they showed no inclination to disprove me. A right foot pressed firmly on the brake pedal had no effect. And, as the Dodge hurled itself down the inexorable hill it was not long before we were enveloped by the reassuring odour of warm brake pad. Worse, there was still no end to the road in sight. As my level of concern rose I began to think that a brake change back in Washington might not have been such a bad thing. And then just as that thought began to crystallise the incline and the winding began to diminish as flat ground mercifully appeared not far ahead. We had been spared. 

It was 8pm before we found a place to stay, Big Cove Campground, Chandler, North Carolina. Putting the tent up for the first time on hard ground proved a challenge. Sensing our troubles a lad from Michigan came to our aid loaning us his wooden hammer. He and Dave then cemented affairs by exchanging cigarettes, the British Embassy Filters being well received.

Trip Details;

Departed Williamsburg VA, 9.25am

Arrived Chandler NC, 8.10pm

Trip Miles; 433

Total Mileage; 620

Coast to Coast – Day 2

Shared a four poster bed with Dave, not something I would choose. Not only does he snore but he also likes to monopolise the duvet. I’ve had better nights.

As a counterbalance Charlotte’s breakfast was both tasty and voluminous. It was whilst tackling a second helping of spoon bread that dad called...again. He’s not given to being overly protective and in fact spent more time talking to Bill than us.

To Carter’s Grove with the Offleys. But the entrance at $6.00 ea was a bit steep so as an alternative we went to the Moore House in Yorktown. It was here that General Cornwallis endured the ignominy of signing the surrender treaty to the American colonists. The guided tour was excellent and is indicative of how well America presents its history.

Photo; The Moore House, Yorktown 

Back to the Offley’s for lunch after which Dave and I went to Jamestown to get a feel for the harsh world that John Smith and his fellow colonists endured. Again the visitors centre is excellent and the drive, which takes you past inlets and creeks, gives a feel for the landscape they encountered.

On the way home we stopped off in Williamsburg to buy postcards in the shopping arcade at the head of Duke of Gloucester Street.

Photo; Williamsburg 

It was then back to the Offley’s for another evening feast this time of Chicken Noodles followed by All American Apple Pie. We have been spoiled.

Following dinner I gave the car a perfunctory inspection and then joined Dave to watch the film Clash of the Titans https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0082186/ on an RCA video player. Featuring Lawrence Olivier, Sian Philips and Claire Bloom you might have thought it to be of a reasonable standard. But the film was a complete turkey leading one to conclude that they all needed the money.