Just like Bogey and Bacall

I can’t say the trip was entirely without disappointment. Take the disappearance of Bogart for example. Well let me explain.  On Friday we began the final leg of this road trip adventure. We left Stuart heading south and let’s be honest, there’s not a lot of south to head to from Stuart. So past Miami, past Florida City and onto the Florida Keys.

The Florida Keys are a series of coral reefs joined together by bridges. For long lengths, they are no wider than the road, with either the sea, or swamps on both sides. Where there are swamps, the road is lined with long wire fences.  To keep the animals in! In other words, to keep the alligators off the road. Nice to know when you get out to change a wheel. No, no, we didn’t, but still nice to know.

The map is simple …. a straight line, with occasional short lines going off at right angles, where the Key has briefly widened and where small towns have developed.  We get to Key Largo and I go in search of Bogart and Bacall, (see note at top of this entry). Not a sign. I have waited for this moment since I was a teenager and where are they?  Nowhere to be seen. Instead, we have lunch in Cindy’s Cafe along with the Highway Patrol.

On to Marathon where we will stay with friends and where we arrive just in time to see the sunset from the seven mile bridge.  Yep.  Seven mile bridge. Sounds like a good place for a music festival.

Next day we are joined by Karen and Jeanette and over the bridge we go and make the final leg to Key West.  Why West, I ask myself, surely it is south?  Well yes and no. Yes, the most southerly point of the continental United States is at Key West. However, when I look at the map, I see that the Keys start out southerly from mainland Florida but then curl around west and stretch westward to their tip. This is where US Route 1 ends. (Or begins, if you’re going the other way, of course, if you get my meaning, which I’m not sure I do myself). It goes all the way from the Canadian border in Maine, to Key West. Quite a ride. And we’ve done most of it, Boston to Key West.

It is a beautiful town. It seems surprising to find it here. It’s like a permanent holiday town, which I’m sure drives the locals crazy, as it’s probably filled with tourists all year round. There are beautiful streets and markets, seafront viewing areas, (viewing the sea!). The port area is lovely and there is a cruise ship in. It leaves before sunset, so we get to watch the sun go down into the Gulf of Mexico, surrounded by the many street performers who line the harbour and call out their acts. It’s a fun place.

Last night we came back to Stuart and tomorrow we go to Orlando. The plan is for a day at Universal Studios, (the Harry Potter Park) and then to the airport. Wednesday morning will see me in Dublin. It’s all been quite an adventure, but it’s time to go home. I hope you’ve enjoyed sharing some of it with me. It has really been a blast.

Happy Christmas to all.

It’s not all Hard Times

It would appear as though my life is a lesson in leisure, a pastime of partying, an exercise in ease and entertainment. Believe me, this is not so. Never did hours pass so fast. Never did time slip so rapidly from my cupped but leaking hands. Never did I find myself more amazed, at how the days have disappeared. Full they are, yes. Full to overflowing for the most part. So much so, that to find a few minutes in the evening to record the days journey has seemed, this past week, to have been impossible.  Today is different. Today is a day to stop, to take stock, to review.

We arrived in Savannah on Tuesday evening. It was quite late and most restaurants were closed. We did however find a Bar/Restaurant called …… Wait for it ….. Churchill’s!  Guess what style of place that was. Yes, an English bar with good food, very friendly staff and excellent ale. What more could you ask for?

The next day we toured the city. It’s a very charming place. Beautifully laid out in parks and squares. Very laid back atmosphere. There is an interesting maritime museum, with scale models of many ships and artefacts and histories of the seafaring of the area. There is a wonderful waterfront with shops, bars, tourist offices. There is a shop that sells nothing but peanuts. Peanuts!  Every type of peanut you could imagine, (actually a lot more than I could imagine). With every kind of covering, seasoning, dressing conceivable. Peanuts. The squares are all named after some historical or important person or event. One features a statue to Johnny Mercer. Johnny Mercer?  Don’t know him?  Ah but you do. Song writer. Moon River. One for my Baby. That old Black Magic. Yep.  That’s him. He’s a Savannah boy.

Back on the road and we arrive in St Augustine that night. Again, we arrive late and search high and low for an eatery, (you’d think we’d have learned by now). We find this bar that looks a bit dodgy but, beggars can’t be choosers. The outside bar is a bit crowded so we look inside. Empty. Yes and for good reason. There is a DJ there playing music so loud that the doors rattle and you can’t even hear the football on the eleven TV screens. Outside will have to do.  We squeeze onto two stools at the bar and order some food and drinks. Fist class. I have to say, it was first class. Then I decide to take a walk to the room that says “Gentlemen”. Actually, I think it just said “Men”, and with good reason.  The space inside is not generous and most of it is taken up by two very large, hairy, leathery, rough-looking bikers. Trying to appear small and invisible, I sneak past and take up my position.  I don’t want to overhear their conversation, but what can I do? “I can’t help but worry about my daughter. She’s only thirteen and that young guy has been calling around regular”. Ah!  The joys of parenthood. Even bikers get the blues.

We spend next day in St Augustine. Great place!  I think I could easily return and spend a week here. This is the first place where Europeans landed on the North American continent. It’s full of history, not only from that time, at the beginning of the 16th century, but also of the native settlements and culture going back 15,000 years. Plus, we did the old jail and the old general store and the train ride, (you just have to), and finally, we visited, and drank from, the Fountain of Youth. So now I look twenty years old again and will live forever. Roll up, roll up!

That night we go to Orlando. Well actually, nearby to Orlando, to stay with friends. They take us to Disney World on Friday. What a treat that was. I met some Muppets, rode the Star Wars Intergalactic spaceship, (at Lightspeed. Honest!). I got turned upside down and inside out on the Rock and Roller coaster. And starred in the latest Indiana Jones movie. Yep, I got picked out of the audience, (in their never ending search for emerging new talent), and was up there with Indie as he battled the baddies for the supremacy of good. The evening finished with the display of Christmas lighting on the street scenes, which was really impressive.

Saturday we arrived in Stuart, Florida. This is our time-out haven for the next five days or so. Just to sit, catch up, do laundry, and get up to date. We’ll do some swimming, walking, play some golf. The theme in the shops and neighbourhoods seems to be Winter Wonderland. It’s hard to take that seriously in 22 to 25 degrees. I’m not complaining. I just don’t want you to think that my life is all leisure, partying and entertainment.

And So On…

After Thanksgiving and a day of visiting friends, it’s back on the road. Leaving Providence, we expect a seven hour journey to Washington DC. What we don’t know is, that everyone else in America is also planning this very same drive on the very same day.  Picture four and five lane motorways, with traffic bumper to bumper. And that’s whether it’s moving at 60 mph or at standstill!! Yes!  Bumper to bumper at 60 mph. Serious stuff!  Much of the time it’s at standstill. It’s late when we arrive, but who cares, tomorrow we’ll go visit the capital.

Washington is a city we’ve all seen on TV and you get certain impressions. Most of them are wrong. Or at least they were in my case. The White House is a beautiful building, but it’s quite small, well smaller than it looks on screen.  Of course you can’t get very close to it, so maybe that’s got something to do with it.

We walk along the mall. The monuments a spectacular. There are truly moving monuments to veterans and casualties of the Great War, World War 2, Korea and Vietnam.  The Lincoln memorial is stunning and far bigger than I expected. We walk on across the bridge over the Potomac river to Arlington cemetery to the Kennedy memorial and the tomb of the Unknown Soldier. At this, we catch the Changing of the Guard. You just have to be impressed. Back across the river and pass the Roosevelt and Jackson monuments, then walk the Mall, all the way to Capital Hill. We have now walked about nine miles, so dinner in the “Dubliner” is a treat.  (Yes I know I shouldn’t go to Irish pubs when I’m away but this came highly recommended by the porter in the railway station). And anyway, it was close and we were starving. In fact, it was quite good.

The next day we decide to do all the museums. Yep.  All of them. We stroll through a Christmas market and in to the Museum of Spies. Actually, it turned out to be just the shop of the Museum of Spies, but enough is enough. Next is the outdoor display of modern sculpture. Well of course, I always considered myself an expert on modern sculpture. OK, maybe not an expert, but I recognised the “Spider”. And the park benches! Well all right, I thought they actually were park benches. They looked like park benches. So it was an art exhibit, so what?  It might have been real.

Into the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. What a fascinating place. I could spend a week there. As it was, we stayed all the rest of the day and only saw half of it. But wow!  What a half. This is a place to go back to. But not this trip.

Next morning, we’re on the road. It’s a damp, cool day, so what do you do?  Drive!  We stay in the car for 600 miles and get to Savannah. Seems like a nice place. We’ll have a better look, tomorrow.

Thanksgiving

An overnight flight brought us to Boston where we spent the day visiting friends. This is the Thanksgiving season so we spent the evening in Plymouth, where the pilgrim fathers landed and set up home. In December of 1620!  When the place would have been freezing and probably covered in snow. Ideal conditions to stop and set up. Not like the 20 degrees when we got there so we stay overnight in a most beautiful B&B, with plans to do the tourist seen in the morning. Unfortunately, the morning temperatures have dropped to 8 degrees and falling rapidly. And it’s raining and blowing.

So we head for Connecticut. On the road, temperatures continue to drop. Snow falls. An oncoming car goes into a spin, sails over to our side of the road. We slide by it, with inches to spare, as it comes to a halt in our lane after a full 360 turn. All is well. No one hurt. No damage done. Not like other incidents we pass along the way. Some pretty serious looking. Cars smashed. Ambulances and fire brigades up and down the road. We arrive safely.

Next morning is Thanksgiving. The place is covered in snow but the ploughs have been out since early and the roads are cleared. We walk about a mile to join the crowds watching the annual Manchester road race. This has been going on for 50 years, each Thanksgiving. It’s a very serious race for the few and a fun run for the many. Visiting athletes from around the world compete and up to 15,000 runners, joggers and walkers take part, dressed as turkeys, Santas, superheroes, Wallys, ballerinas, bananas, etc., etc., etc.  good fun.

Off to friends for Thanksgiving dinner party. The sleigh is out front and the huskies are ready.

Redwood Forest

I’ve often heard and read of the redwood forests of California. Today I got to hike in them. Well in one of them, Muir Woods. The first mile or so is along the river bank. These magnificent trees are enormous, up to 360 feet high, and higher in other places, I’m told. Despite a clear sunny day, not a lot of light gets down to ground level and it’s quite cool. As we leave the main trail and begin to climb, we warm up. It’s a beautiful hiking trail, on a soft turfy path, winding upwards through the trees. Many of them carry the marks of charring. When I meet a ranger, I ask him about this and says there was burning here in the 1980s and that the bark has not yet fully recovered.

After a little over an hour, we emerge onto a clear shoulder of Mount Tamalpais and into glorious sunshine and stunning views that stretch for miles to the south, as far as San Francisco and Ocean Beach. Half a mile on, there is a car park and forestry office, where a friendly ranger gives us bottles of water and wishes us well for our hike.

The downward trek is in open country, in the sunshine and we get back to the car about 5 o’clock. A short drive, though we went wrong twice, to Sausalito for dinner overlooking the bay, it really is a beautiful spot, and on to the airport for a flight to Boston.

Many Kinds of Exploration

10799510_10205192313549733_1977446069_n

Have you ever seen those guys who cycle Pedicabs and bring people, mostly tourists, around cities?  Ever wondered who they are?  Well Adam is one of them. We met Adam at the wedding last week and he invited us for a Pedicab ride when we got to San Francisco. So today was the day. Now if you have seen San Francisco on television or cinema and let’s be honest, who hasn’t, you will immediately say that there is not a city in the world less suitable for a Pedicab. Yep.  That’s what I thought. And said as much to Adam. Well it seems that they stick to certain areas of the city and skip the parts like Nob Hill, (yes, that really is the name if it). So he gave us a great spin around the Financial district, the Baseball Park, the Wharf and all the newly developed areas near the harbour. What a nice guy.

He dropped us off at the Exploratorium. You don’t have to be a nerd to love this place, just a child at heart. It’s absolutely packed with hands-on, get-involved, try-it-yourself tests and experiments on light and vision, sound and hearing, weather, shared experience. It’s just wonderful and we stayed there until about 4pm.

We walked back to the hotel to pick up our car. Today was moving day, so across the city and over the Golden Gate Bridge to Marin County which, I am reliably informed, is the richest county in the US, where people are paid more, on average, than anywhere else in the country. Who am I to argue?  We are staying here tonight because we want to go hiking in the area tomorrow.

The evening being yet young, we treat ourselves to the cinema. Hunger Games, The Mocking Jay. In case you haven’t seen it, and plan it as your highlight of 2014, I’ll say no more. I will be available for comment and discussion to any who wish.

On the way home from the cinema, given that we hadn’t eaten much all day, I was told I had to take part in the last and final California experience, before leaving tomorrow …….. the “In N Out” burger, animal style! Not being one to often praise burger joints, I have to say that this was excellent. Well done “In N Out”.

Media magnate, seals and seafood

The only thing that I ever knew about Randolf Hearst, was that he owned newspapers, and his daughter, Patti, was kidnapped, suffered Stokholm syndrome, and was jailed for robbing banks. In fact, Hearst owned lots and lots of newspapers, film production companies, magazines and 80,000 acres, (yep, probably as much as all the small holdings in Ireland), of ranch land in California. He built a mansion on this land. Though it’s now owned by the state, the ranch is still run in the way that he ran it. All cowboys still work on horseback. This is not a gimmick, it’s the way it’s done. It’s a very interesting place, just a few minutes from San Simeon.

We spend a couple of hours there and then get back on the road to go find the beach, where the elephant seals come to rest, mate and bear their young. Dozens of seals line the beach. They sleep. They roll. They stand up and gaze. The young males practice fighting on land and in the shallows. The females bear their young and rest. Rest I can understand. But mating?  Well, given that the male is up to 5,000 lbs weight, and the female is 1,600 lbs,  hmmm. It’s seems kinda squashy to me.

We move on to the Pfeiffer beach. I only go there because I expect to find Michelle, but it’s main claim to fame is the Portal of the Sky. Apparently, at certain times of the year, you can see the sunset through the cave-like hole in the rocks. We don’t see it today, but I have to say, it is a most beautiful, enchanting place. The sea crashes onto the rocks and beach. The setting sun lights the place like a natural theatre and the dark forest surrounds it all and isolates it in wonder. In short, it’s a pretty good spot.

We spend the night in Monterey. I remember it from the famous music festival of 1968(?). The first time I ever heard of people like the Mammas and the Pappas, Jimi Hendricks and many more. It’s quieter now. We walk down to the Wharf and have a beautiful seafood dinner.

Morning time sees us in Pebble Beach. I thought it was just a golf course but in fact it’s  community, almost a county. Mind you, it’s pretty much dedicated to golf. There are seven golf courses. There are also fabulous beaches, forest routes and very expensive and exclusive residential areas. All within the Pebble Beach complex. Yes of course we visit the famous course and have lunch there. Yes of course we walk some of the fairways and check out the golf challenge. There are two different pro-am tournaments on and we get chatting with some of the organisers and get some gossip on the various courses around.

It becomes a very Irish day, with misty rain and overcast skies, so we get back in the car and continue north. Arriving in San Francisco, we have no idea of where to go, and end up wandering down streets, having been directed by a rather dodgy looking character in a petrol station, to find a motel, which we do eventually find. It turns out to be not too bad at all. Drop our gear and walk a few blocks, (we were told it was safe to walk here. We begin to question this advice), to find food and drink. We find a lovely bar restaurant with a great atmosphere and some lovely tappa style food. All in all a good day. And we make it safely back to our motel. Can’t be bad, ay?

On the Road Part. 2

You would think that the Madonna Inn had something to do with mother and child. That’s what I thought. Wrong!  It is named after Alex Madonna, (I swear this is true), who developed the place. We wanted to stop here because we were told that it is really lovely and that every room is different. It is true!  When you check in, they hand you a book of photographs. A photograph of each room. You pick which one you want. Actually, you pick from the two in your price range, but you get my drift. We pick the “Desert Sands”. It’s a very lovely room which we settle into and then leave it to go eat. We’ll walk into the downtown area and find a nice restaurant. Right!  We walk out of the hotel grounds to the traffic lights on the corner. No direction obvious. We assess, calculate, reason, evaluate and decide. We are wrong!  We walk for twenty minutes and find ourselves in a large shopping centre from which we can find no way out. Starvation grabs hold. We settle for the first eatery available. We are served gorgeous ribs and good beer. Can’t be bad.

With detailed directions from the waitress, we set out to regain the Madonna Inn, which we find. Eventually. There is music in the bar/function room. Check it out. The local dancing club is holding their weekly night. We join in. Good fun.

Next morning we hike the hills in the area nearby. A very lovely hike in sunshine and warm weather on the dusty hillside. Back for a shower before check out and on the road again to Morro. Yes to Morro!  We went today. Well actually we went yesterday. So we went to Morro, yesterday. Try to keep up here, I’m doing my best. Morro is a lovely beach and fishing port. The dominant feature is a rock headland that is actually a volcano plug, left behind after an eruption thousands of years ago. A local fisherman directs us to where we get a good brunch. Then it’s off to paddle in the sea, (very cold), and scamper on the rocks. The whole bay is full of sea otters.

Driving along the highway we see a sign for a town called Harmony, (population 18).  Well we have to drive in there. We sit on a step and sing. (Get it?). Vicki spots a small poster about a concert there tonight. Cosy Sheridan, folk singer songwriter. Sounds good. We’ll come back.

We go on to San Simeon, get a room and a meal and go back to Harmony. What a wonderful concert. This is a tiny place. The hall is a refurbished post office shed. It seats about 70 people max, pretty tightly squeezed. Cosy comes on. She’s been writing songs and singing for 40 years. She is superb!  What a performer. Her songs are great. Her stories are great. She is engaging and funny. We love this woman. We buy two CDs. They also give us an Irish Coffee and a chocolate chip cookie.

OK, bedtime.

On The Road

Venice beach is a good place for brunch and afterwards we go walking along the seafront. Even in November this place is hopping. Surfers are in and out of the water. Skate boarders buzz up and down. The beautiful people, some more aspirational than actual, parade. We pass an open air gym on the prom where muscular types are flexing and preening. All looking very he-manish. I’d have gone in myself, except that we were pushing on to Santa Barbara.

As soon as the sun goes down, it gets quite chilly. Well not Irish chilly, but cool compared to what it’s been all day. So I thought I was very brave getting into the swimming pool at the hotel in Santa Barbara.  In fact, the water was heated to just about gorgeous. Then the jacuzzi. We stayed there a bit too long because we met three young New Zealanders, who were touring the world, and chatted with them for about three quarters of an hour. Long enough to go wrinkly. Anyway, by the time we got out to look for food, the town had gone home. We eventually found a seafood restaurant and bar, about to close, that gave us clam chowder and beer. Pretty much all I wanted.

Next morning we got bicycles from the hotel and toured the town. There are still plenty of tourists around, so in the height of the summer, it must be packed. It’s a very pretty town, lovely beach, long pier with shops, restaurants, seagulls and fishermen. A beautiful way to spend a morning. Early afternoon, back on the road.

There is a consistency to the California Pacific Highway. To the west is shoreline, beach, rocks, cliffs. The rest is generally dry, dusty grassland, (and not a lot of grass), with cattle. Mostly it’s gentle slopes but the area has a string of volcanic plugs, so rough rocky hills appear from time to time. It’s definitely not a place where a piece of old Europe would be expected. This makes Solvang worth a visit. Solvang is a small town developed by Danish settlers in the early 1900’s. They are very proud of their Danish roots and everything about the town reflects this. Architecture, shop names and styles, Danish pastry cafés, and a very interesting museum to Hans Christian Anderson. We check them all out.  Especially the pastries.

Gotta go. We’re making for the famous (?) Madonna Inn in San Luis Obispo.

Out and About in Downtown LA

wed2

Ah yes, downtown LA. I’ve seen it so often on television and cinema, but no, I don’t recognise a single thing. We are staying for three days at the Biltmore hotel, right in the heart of downtown. It is enormous. It takes up a whole city block. You can enter it from three sides as a peasant, and from the fourth side if you are a VIP. It has 145 rooms and 130 suites. We have a “Superior” room. I don’t think there are any “Inferior” rooms. It’s all quite luxurious with beautiful furnishings and magnificent ceilings.

So out for a walk to see the city. The lady at reception gave us a city map and marked a big X on a large block. “You don’t want to go near that neighbourhood”, says she. Fair enough. We walk along Broadway. It’s about two blocks away from the big X, so I reckon we’re fine. Lots of very colourful characters. There’s a lady dancing by herself on the footpath and holding a continuous conversation with no one in particular. She’s having a rare old time. There are shoppers and eaters and hawkers and beggars and bankers. Someone mutters, “Those people shouldn’t be walking around here”. He doesn’t mutter why. We wander on. A lady sees us checking our map and stops to ask what we are looking for. She gives us the full tourist board of LA spiel. She is very proud of her city.

We get to the museum of Contemporary Art. There is a large sculpture (?), made from bits of broken aeroplanes. Is it just me?  Should art not have some aesthetically pleasing element?  I certainly wouldn’t want it in my sitting room. Actually, it wouldn’t fit in my sitting room if I extended across the street and up through the roof. There was one picture I liked. It was about “Real Men” and showed a cowboy on his horse, knitting!  The cowboy, not the horse.

On to do a tour of the Music Centre. What a fabulous venue. Four theatres, including the Walt Disney Concert Hall and the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, which was the venue for the Oscars for years after the Biltmore, (yes our hotel!), and before they were moved to the Dolby Theatre on Hollywood Boulevard.

At night, we walk to the Staples Centre, where there is a basketball match in progress. Busy area, great buzz, full of restaurants, bars and wandering basketball fans. And it’s far away from the big X. When we get back, there’s a three piece jazz band in the hotel bar, so, ok, maybe just a nightcap.

Of course the reason we are in downtown LA is the wedding of Ed and Shaina. This takes place at 5pm in a gorgeous venue, outdoor, on top of a building not five minutes from our hotel. It was once the apartment for the very wealthy developer of the building and, although some of the action takes place indoors, namely reception drinks and nibbles and a fabulous jazz/flamenco guitarist, mostly it is outdoors on the roof. Yes the ceremony, meal and music and dancing, all outdoor, with the Goodyear Blimp floating overhead and the lights of the city’s skyscrapers dressing the background in veils of colour. What a wonderful night.

We’ll soon be leaving to drive north along the Pacific Highway as we make our way, slowly, to get to San Francisco by next weekend.

image (5)

image (3)

image (4)

image (2)