The Lake District

Wouldn't it be lovely if only it were possible to experience the extraordinary beauty of New Zealand or Canada without spending an eternity on a plane?  Well, it is.  Kind of. That's what myself and my better half did last week when we spent a few nights in England's Best Kept Secret - the Lake District in Cumbria.  It's always a pleasure to be reminded that you don't have too go far from home to enjoy somewhere truly stunning.  Naturally, it can be done without leaving the rain-soaked Emerald Isle, but even though the Lake District is "abroad" it is still pretty much on our doorstep.  We were joined by Caroline's sister and her husband who made their way up from London.

When we made the decision to go initially our preferred mode of transport was the ferry to Holyhead.  Sadly, although somewhat predictably, we soon discovered that it cost substantially less to fly, so Ryanair was the only option, pretty much.  Still, at least we had a choice of flying into Manchester, Liverpool or Leeds, all of which are roughly equidistant from the District, 70-80 miles.  Aer Lingus fly to Blackpool which is slightly closer still but the times of those flights weren't great and the price couldn't compete with the 30 euro return per person we got with Ryanair.

Of course when you get a cheap Ryanair flight it is usually one which requires you to get up around an hour after you get to bed, and our flight to Leeds was no different!  Following a night out on Friday, a night in Mayo on Saturday and Jerry Seinfeld in the o2 on Sunday the last thing we needed was a 4am start - indeed we slept in although mercifully not in a spectacular way, and managed to make the flight comfortably.  We picked up our car, a very nice Nissan Juke, at Leeds Bradford International Airport and headed off towards our destination and not, as we had originally intended, into Leeds City Centre.  We ruled that out after a chat with the Hertz staff and dark mentions of appalling traffic. After a brief stop in Otley for a mushroom omelette we set off on the 70 mile drive to Ambleside on the shores of Lake Windermere.


We picked up our fellow travellers at Bowness train station and arrived in Ambleside to check into our fairly decent accommodation.  Having decided against bringing anything to smoke I was pleased to find that my brother in law had done so! The little town, like most of them in the area, was really very easy on the eye, clean and well kept.  After getting a bit of a soaking doing a walk to a small waterfall that was easily accessible from our bed and breakfast, we spent the evening at a cinema/vegetarian restaurant which offered a two course meal plus movie for £17.95 each.  The meal was great, however the best option on the screen was Tim Burton's Dark Shadow and that was mediocre in the extreme.

We had an early night and were up early the next day, first heading for a scenic and slightly hair-raising (for my passengers - I didn't mind it at all) drive through the old Roman roads of Wrysome Pass and Hardknotts Pass and then for a 4 mile walk around Lake Buttermere.  Both were great in very different ways, and sandwiched between them we drove around the coastal part of the region past the amusingly named Cockermouth.  We inadvertently spotted Sellafield too but gave that a wide berth.  The weather was lovely, which we soon discovered was somewhat unusual in a place where precipitation occurs just as much if not more than in Ireland.

We stopped off at the town of Keswick - another immaculately kept spot - for a sandwich and then drove around for a while, rather frustratingly searching for Castlerigg Stone Circle, a mini-Stonehenge.  We got close, but had no success and went back to Ambleside with our tails between our legs.  Again we were all shattered from the fresh air so had a long pre-dinner nap which turned into more of a full scale slumber. It
meant that we went out too late to get anything decent to eat in Ambleside, result being our dinner comprised a Tesco sandwich eaten outside the Kings Head Pub.  Followed by one (soft) drink in said pub. After which we called it a night.  Perhaps the long sleep when we returned to our rooms around 6pm was an error after all, as I don't think any of us woke up properly.  We chatted about the terminology of the place, all meres (big lakes), tarns (small lakes) and fells (mountains), most of which originated in Scandanavia. I think......

By breakfast time the next morning we were all nicely rested.  Which was just as well as we had an action-packed day ahead of us!  First up was a boat trip on Lake Windermere, which was pretty gorgeous.  Then the ladies insisted on some shopping, after which we headed for a delightful walk near the village of Coniston, around Yew Tree Tarn and up a hill.  It wasn't exactly challenging but we were all happy with it which was paramount considering our party included a woman nearly 8 months pregnant and another with debilitating arthritis.  My brother in law went into skinning up overdrive throughout the day, so after the walk we had a 40 minute drive through beautiful scenery to the town of Ulverston and it was one of the most enjoyable drives I've ever taken as one part of my brain drifted off into my own little world while the other contemplated the wonderful views. Thankfully a significant fraction managed to focus on the wheel and the road too.  Our destination proved a rude awakening though, it's a rough spot which dispelled the idea that all the towns in the Lake District were lovely.  Some of the lads hanging around outside the pubs looked very like those in Dublin 8, tracksuits very classily tucked into socks, that kind of thing. My memories of the place are not good, but having just heard the (for me) devastating news that Kenny Dalglish had been sacked by Liverpool FC it is fair to say that I was a tad distracted.

We didn't remain long in the kip but in the end determined that we would attempt to locate the Stone Circle we had so irritatingly missed the previous day.  Thankfully our second attempt proved fruitful and we strolled around it for a while, chatting and taking pictures.  It was worth it too, whoever put it there managed to find a spot with breathtaking views on all sides.  My kindly brother-in-law continued his spliff onslaught.  Eventually we headed back to Ambleside and rather than risk a nap, we hit a very impressive little pub called the Golden Rule for a couple of pre-dinner drinks.

Another joint on the way to Lucys Restaurant rendered me rather speechless for probably the first hour, but despite the blurry beginning we all enjoyed the food and the night in general.  The proprietor Lucy had apparently arrived in Ambleside and taken the place by storm, ruffling the feathers of the locals along the way.  Seeing a full length photograph of her on the wall made it simple to understand why.  We finished up around 11pm and went straight back to the b'n'b in order to ensure that we took advantage of our truncated final day.  Because I had plans for it that were influenced by references in the guide books to a film that is very close to my heart.

Visiting a phone box on our final morning in the Lake District may seem like an odd way to spend time, but I assure you (officer) this is no ordinary phone box!  No, it is in fact the phone box from where Withnail called and berated his agent in the glorious movie.  It's in the village of Bampton on the east of the region, not too far away from the larger town of Penrith.  That's PENRITH!  We visited the area where the movie was made and saw Monty's cottage from a distance.  Not a bad way to spend our last half day!  After that we dropped our London based family off for the train, and headed for Leeds-Bradford Airport, reflecting on a gorgeous few days and contemplating a return.  Some day......

Thursday Night Football

Thursday may not mean much to many people, but it's possibly my favourite day of the week, for one reason and one reason only. Three words are the reason, and they can be located in the title of this blog - Thursday Night Football.  From the perspective of the armchair football fan Thursday night has become synonymous with failure, the night that the Europa League takes place.   A competition much maligned by fans of the so-called Greatest League in the World, the Premiership, although European clubs still seem to care about it. But I'm talking about playing it, not watching it. And give me playing football over watching a bunch of overpaid primadonnas shaping around a pitch any day.

Our weekly contest is a long, long running game at this stage, although it wasn't on a Thursday at the beginning. It dates back to perhaps 1999 and was initially based on grass, in Herbert Park, on maybe a Tuesday night?  Oh, the memories!  Jumpers for goalposts, games starting 8 against 8 and finishing 12 against 13, vast numbers of pints in Ballsbridge after.  It was fun at the time, but you never knew half the people playing and it got chaotic. I can't remember who or when we decided to make the switch to astro-turf (astro is a great surface, although most of our wives/girlfriends are probably thoroughly sick of the little black sandy bits that appear in the house after a game!), but switch we did and I think maybe in 2000 we took up a residency in Benildus College in Kilmacud at 11am every Saturday.  In a time where going out every Friday night was the norm for most of us, it was perhaps an optimistic time slot.

It worked, though.  We got the numbers week in, week out.  12 players, 6 on each side, most of time.  5 against 5 was also possible, but was and is far more demanding. Admittedly many of the players arrived the worse for wear, and beery breath and rueful reminiscing on the previous nights entertainment was part of the game.  We either started playing at 3pm and it switched after a year or two to 11am, or it was the other way around.  I'm not sure, one of the lads can undoubtedly tell me.  Both proved quite ridiculous time slots though.  When we played at 11am I distinctly remember turning up several times to play straight from a session, full of pills or powder and bereft of sleep.  Whereas when we played at 3pm going directly to the pub post game ensured many very wasted Saturday nights, indeed I in particular frequently found myself home in my bed by 10pm too messy to venture out.

As the years crawled on we lost some of the original crew, life simply gets in the way and in particular it was difficult for lads with kids to play on a Saturday.  Switching to Thursday accommodated some of them.  It has been Thursday since around 2004 to the best of my knowledge. We've also lost players to relocation, emigration and plain old not wanting to play anymore.  I can never understand that one - we'll be inactive long enough.  Thankfully it hasn't happened in a while but I went through a rather injury-prone phase and have been ruled out on occasion for weeks or even months at a time, and being unable to play for even a short period totally sucks. Other games have come and gone over the years and but thankfully Thursday night has survived.  It's very close to my heart.

So we still have 7 or 8 of the original crew most weeks, and have managed to replace all those who don't play anymore for one reason or another.  Some are missed.  Others definitely aren't.  We lost two last year who used to drink a few pints each week before they played, indicative of a combination of their issues with alcohol and their desire to have a few sneaky drinks away from "the missus". I was thrilled to see the back of them.  It was a joke, and it was getting to the stage that it was either them or me who was quitting.  Good riddance.  The game has improved in their absence.

It's hard to say exactly what makes it special, but there's a few indisputable factors. It's competitive, but not TOO competitive, taken seriously but not excessively so.  There's a pleasant lack of crazy tackles and a dearth of bickering over decisions.  It's a good humoured contest without lads haranguing their team mates for lack of quality or effort.  On occasion when a substitute has come in and been too big for their boots they haven't fit in at all, which is a compliment to the participants.

Another huge thing is that we get the numbers, and thus generally have pretty even games.  Which is very important.  On Mondays I play a game and although it's a cracking contest with another great bunch of lads there's almost always one short, lads don't turn up and incredibly sometimes don't even alert the organiser.  It's a lack of respect and would never happen on a Thursday.  Perhaps the longevity of the game and the friendships of the players helps, and that's another side of things - the social side.  Most of us are in or around 40 so don't tend to see that much of one another, or at least we wouldn't if we didn't play football every week.  It's a great way to catch up with people and hear the news.

If we do end up having to seek employment in another country I'll naturally really miss the family and friends, but I'd be pushed to think of many things I would miss more than Thursday Night Football. While chatting to another one of the veterans about it all lately he described the game as "one of the best hours of the week" and I couldn't have put it better myself.

The Golden Age of Television

We sometimes face dilemmas in our lives.  Occasionally they are important, other times not so much. It depends. The kind of ones my wife and I have been confronted with of late are not very important at all, but they challenge our brains nonetheless.  They consist of things like "what will we watch tonight? Homelands maybe? Or what about Sons of Anarchy?  Have we finished Season 6 of Dexter yet???"

As I said - hardly of earth shattering importance.  Perhaps significant though in that such dilemmas are indicative of one indisputable fact, which is that there are an awful lot of wonderful television programmes around these days.  Seriously.  It's becoming quite difficult to keep up with them all.  And isn't that a nice problem?  Of course they are not all on the bog standard channels, and people may have to source them by way of purchasing a box set or downloading them or whatever.  But many of them are topical, current, or recent, and they're out there to be watched or at least obtained and put in the growing "to watch" pile.

When all is said and done, watching good things on the screen is still one of the best pastimes of them all.  Despite the changes brought about by technology this has not changed very much for a decent percentage of people in the 35 or so years of my life that I can remember (apart from 15 or so the memories of which are decidedly blurry).  It is an inexpensive, relaxing way of enjoying oneself without leaving the living room, or indeed the sofa. What's not to like?

Plenty, actually. Gazing at the screen can be mind-numbingly dull. Unless I was really, really stoned there's no way I would loll on the couch just flicking around the normal channels for hours hoping something decent comes along.  Thankfully the amount of good shows I have assembled and ready to be watched means that never has to happen anyway.  Apart from Caroline's Coronation Street and my sports and bit of news we rarely watch anything on normal television.  Which is a blessing, as despite the great things happening in the television world there is still a vast amount of absolute garbage on.

It's got to the point that the idea of watching an episode of a series you love and then waiting and eagerly anticipating watching it again a week later has become redundant.  Which is a shame in a way.  That said I love being in a position to completely binge on a decent show, gorging on maybe four or five episodes one after the other.  It's fun! Hardly surprising I enjoy that method of consumption either. A few January's back I watched 5 seasons of the Wire in something like two weeks, it almost became my life during that fortnight. Now that I think of it that's not really something to proud of at all, but it's fair to say I had way too much time on my hands at that stage. At least I can safely say it was time well spent, because the Wire remains my favourite series. Of all time.

What's brought about the big improvement in television shows?  I don't really know anything about that but can imagine. I think. Traditionally, the film industry and the television industry were very different in a lot of ways. TV almost seemed like the inconsequential snotty little brother, very much in the shadow of the elder and far more serious sibling. Move actors predominantly only did movies, film directors probably viewed working in television with mild disdain.  There didn't appear to be a lot of crossover between the two worlds.  There certainly seems to be now.  Movie directors and actors like Martin Scorsese and Steve Buscemi in Boardwalk Empire are making huge budget shows for the likes of HBO.

Which brings me on nicely to another reason, which is probably the biggest.  In the past one might well have shuddered at the prospect of tuning in to a movie that was specifically "made for TV".  That often meant it was substandard.  Cheap and nasty, undoubtedly.  Unknown actors and sets more striking for their paucity than for their authenticity.  Not any more.  The Sopranos was costing roughly $1.5 million per episode in the late 90s, which was big for television at that time, but the first episode of Boardwalk Empire ate up $20,000,000.00.  For one episide. Of a television show.

As mentioned above the Wire remains my favourite show, assuming that mantle from the Sopranos, and just ahead of the stupendous Breaking Bad, the fifth season of which it's fair to say is already something exciting to look forward to.  It seems there's a bit of a theme there - I like shows on the gritty side involving drugs, cops,criminals and people in desperate situations.  Dexter is another great show although they should have stopped making it after four seasons as it appears to have run out of steam. Madmen is hugely popular although I quit watching it a few episodes into the second season.  Yes it looks fantastic and the acting is good but I just don't care enough about a bunch of horrible, manipulative people working in advertising to persist with it.  Homelands had me hooked, and Sons of Anarchy is probably next on the list.

These are all American shows but even the likes of Denmark has got into the act with the Killing. Although the show came out in 2007 we only got it recently, and it is very impressive.  It's quite embarrassing to think that the Danes can produce something of that quality when the best we can do in Ireland is the likes of Love/Hate which admittedly is watchable, but is watchable enough anymore when you look at the competition?

Anyway - where the shows originate from is of no concern, let's hope the TV revolution of the last decade or so continues to raise the standard.  It will make an imminent few years of hardly ever going out all the more tolerable!

Extra, Extra! Read all about it...........

How can I put this diplomatically?  Is there a way to do it?  No, I don't think so.  Basically, my career is fucked.  Or would be if I had one. I worked solidly from 1994 until 2007, no major drama, and despite qualifying as a solicitor in 2008 that was really when my current jobless predicament began to manifest. It was a bad time to qualify in a hugely oversubscribed profession. Admittedly I tried to change course and undertook a Masters in 2009, thinking I might be able to hack it as a journalist, or in the media in some shape or form, but that hasn't exactly gone well either.

My wife and I were travelling for a memorable 9 months from November 2009 until August 2010, so I can't complain about that. Since then though things have been pretty grim. Apart from a wonderful stint in RTE for 3 months I have hardly worked at all.  Strictly bits and pieces for one year and two months now.  Not for the want of trying either.  Christ I have lost count of the amount of CVs that have been dispatched this year alone. Not working doesn't suit me. Being employed, gainfully or otherwise, is a necessary evil, so much so that since January I have been volunteering 3 days each week in an organisation called Transparency International Ireland.  Good to have a reason to get up in the morning.  One ends up feeling very, very worthless.

Now don't get me wrong.  It could be worse.  A lot worse.  I have been fortunate enough to have access to money, through inheritance and generosity from family, and that has kept us going but savings dwindle, that's what happens when there is nothing coming in.  It is getting pretty worrying, I don't mind confessing, especially with a baby on the way in July, and my wife and I are reflecting that if neither of us can get sorted with something in the reasonably near future we will probably have to look outside our country of residence for a way to keep ourselves occupied and secure our futures, financially and mentally.

The only work I have been paid for in 2012 is as an extra on some television shows.  Not what I expected after slogging my ass off to qualify as a solicitor.  But we are where we are as the saying goes and frankly I am just grateful to do something that isn't illegal that brings money in rather than causes it to be spent!  And for the moment that something is hanging around for the day, fading into the background in a variety of Irish television shows.

In January I registered with this crowd called movieextras.ie who provide extras for television shows, movies and advertisements.  You pay 90 euro to join for a year.  Then there's another crowd called backstagecasting.net who don't charge a joining fee.  All you have to do is upload a couple of photographs and furnish them with your vital statistics.  And then wait for a call.  And wait.........

Unsurprisingly the amount of people signing up to be extras has increased dramatically in the last couple of years.  There are thousands on the books now, all age groups, all desperate to get lucky. It is an area that seems to be booming, there's an awful lot of filming of all descriptions going on in Ireland these days.  I heard nothing for a few weeks but one day got a text checking my availability for a BBC show being filmed in Dun Laoghaire on a specified date.  Although I confirmed my availability I didn't get selected on that occasion, but at the end of February I was summoned to be an extra for the same show, a BBC cop show called "Vexed" that I must confess I had never heard of before.

So I arrived in this yard in Dun Laoghaire at 7am on the day and was pleasantly surprised to be served a lovely breakfast, after which I and my fellow extras, who much to my chagrin were all in their late teens or early twenties, were ushered into a dilapidated room on Patrick Street a few doors down from the cafe in which the show was being filmed on that day.  Apart from the few occasions on which we were summoned to do our extra thing, we were sitting around that room for 13 hours.  The scenes we were utilised for were shot in a bar situation, all we had to do was sit and pretend to chat to one another and/or read the paper and drink coffee.  You're not allowed to actually talk.  You have to mime.  You feel like a right eegit.

I can be a right eegit for a tenner an hour though, I'm not too proud for that!  In fairness all the other extras were really nice people so chatting to them passed the time.  It was an experience.  Funnily enough a few people I know that HAVE jobs have said to me "that sounds really interesting" - easy to say that when all you got to do is hear about it!  The way I looked at it though at least I had earned my joining fee back, and more.  Was a few weeks before I got another call, and the second time it was for a show I had watched, and enjoyed - the third season of the RTE production Love/Hate.

So I was chuffed to get that, and even better it was filmed very close to home in the Dublin Conservative Club, which is downstairs from my friend's pilates studio.  That was a fun day.  The extras were all lads around my age, and it was really interesting chatting to them and hearing all the different stories about how they, like me, found themselves reduced to being extras.  The scenes they were doing that day involved a forensics team checking out the bar where all the gang members hung out - so muggins here had to go around in white overalls pretending to spray luminol and shine a torch to look for blood, like something out of Dexter.  Exciting or what?? Eh, not really.........although the day lasted a mere 9 hours.  Great food again provided, and most importantly for me a thoroughly edible vegetarian option!

This week I got a third bite at the extra cherry when I was in an Irish show called Trivia.  Again it's a show I enjoyed when I watched the first season.  Having to be in Celbridge for 7am wasn't too much fun, but it was another 100 squids and a day spent hanging out with nice people.  I spoke to people there who have been working as extras for many years, in fact it is how they make their living.  While I sincerely hope that in 7 or 8 years time I am not blogging about continuing to basically do nothing on rare occasions for a living, I have enjoyed the few days of it so far and finger's crossed there's more on the way.  Kind of goes without saying I suppose, but for the moment it's better than nothing

Spiritualized, Vicar Street, Saturday 24th March 2012

Despite feeling slightly apprehensive about this gig Jason Pierce and company sent me home from Vicar Street happy and contented. Not to mention confident that I'll keep going back whenever they tour. Twenty years on from seeing them in the Tivoli in 1992, Spiritualized delivered a polished set containing songs new and most importantly old reminding me that when it comes to delivering a thundering and emphatic live performance there are not many who do it better.

There is no other band I have been to see so many times. Up to 20 times in 20 years, in all sorts of places such as Dublin, Galway, Boston, Glastonbury, Chicago, San Francisco and Stradbally, so it's fair to say that this is an experience I am familiar with.  It's also fair to say that considering the band have not released a decent album since 2003's Amazing Grace (and some would argue their last good record was Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space in 1997) there was for me a genuine fear that the setlist would comprise lots of wishy-washy new stuff that would render the show limp and anonymous.

While naturally some of the new material was aired it managed to sound really good nestling amongst an abundance of old favourites.  We heard "Born Never Asked" and "Lay Back in the Sun" from Pure Phase, "Oh Baby" and "Rated X" from Amazing Grace, and crucially the bulk of "Ladies and Gentlemen We Are Floating in Space" including the title track, "Electricity", "Come Together" and a rip-roaring "Cop Shoot Cop" which brought the concert to a glorious conclusion.

There was also several of those stand-out moments from any Spiritualized gig where a combination of soaring guitars, crazed keyboards and driving bass and cymbals combine with frenetic flashing lights to cause a sensation not unlike an out of body experience for the audience - well for this member of it anyway.

As I strolled out of Vicar St I felt like shouting "sorry for doubting you Jason!" and wished I could see them again.  As soon as possible

Child on the way - beginning to sink in

That it's only becoming a reality now might seem odd given that my good lady is now 20 weeks pregnant, or "ag iompair", as gaeilge. That's literally carrying, in Irish. I like that translation, incidentally.  Like lengthy periods of my time on this planet it has felt at times like it's something that is happening to other people, with yours truly as a curious and interested observer. A strange sensation.

The waking up and smelling the coffee moment occurred on the morning of 7th March, and our attendance at a clinic beside Holles Street Maternity Hospital for the 20 week scan, which is a rather significant moment in the 9 month odyssey that is a pregnancy.  The first scan takes place in or around 12 weeks in, and having discovered on the initial scan on our first attempt last year that a miscarriage had taken place we were both extremely nervous when we attended for the ultrasound in early January, but thankfully we experienced massive relief when it was made apparent that all appeared to be well this time around.

So after clearing that 12 week hurdle I wouldn't say either of us were majorly apprehensive as the second scan approached, but there was a hint of shakiness nonetheless as we made our way to the clinic.  While Caroline lay down and had the gel applied for the ultrasound, I shot my customary grateful glance n the direction of the machine that had basically saved my life when it detected the 7.8cm tumour on my right kidney back in 2008. Fair enough it wasn't THAT ultrasound. Perhaps it was a relative though?

We settled back to watch the screen with growing fascination as the operator moved the paddle/stick around my wife's belly and methodically checked that all was as it should be.  To be honest for the first few minutes of the scan it was a case of "wow! look at all that black and gray swirly shite...............it's just fascinating!". It really wasn't.  But the operator was methodically measuring everything and inputting the results onto her system.  She was quite bowled over by the heart, and later described it as "great" on the notes for the file.  It is pretty cool, seeing it beating frantically.

Just after we finished up I asked the operator had she been able to tell what sex the child was and she replied that because we hadn't asked about it she never bothered to check. Friends of mine had told me that during their scan the operator asked them directly whether they wished to know the sex of the child, and I was relieved that a similar moment had not occurred during ours as I feared I might not have been able to resist finding out.  Waiting until the end of July will be more fun though.

When we left the clinic we went for a coffee and gazed at the little pictures from the ultrasound which basically show a side profile of the top of our child's body lying down on it's back.  The spine/backbone looks bizarre!  It's all very exciting. Most importantly Caroline is mainly enjoying being pregnant now, apart from simple little things like bending over to tie her laces becoming increasingly difficult!

We're half way there. Let's hope the second half proceeds as smoothly as the first

World Trip Part 17 - USA Part 1

Monday 17th May was a long, long day.  Let me be clear and admit to the fact that I am only commencing this typing a shocking 49 days later, on 5th July.  At least I am doing better than Caroline, who has not scrawled a journal entry since 17th April!  The journey to the States comprised a 90 minute flight from Kingston to Miami followed by a 5 hour flight to LAX, aka Los Angeles International Airport, from where we took a short taxi ride to the America's Best Value Inn Inglewood.  Arriving around 10.30pm we were both shattered, and crashed out almost immediately.

LA was really only a base from which to launch our USAdventure.  Having visited my cousin there in 2006, I wasn't bothered checking it out again, notwithstanding I had hugely enjoyed my time there, and C wasn't pushed either, so we were not going to hang around.  Only problem was that our failure to plan anything left us rather clueless as to which way we wanted to proceed, so as soon as we awoke on Tuesday 18th May we had a chat and realised that we better book another night in our motel room, which was clean, spacious and cheap.  Obviously a step down from Jamaica, but still very comfortable.  Nice staff too.  The usual good manners you get in the States.  One of my favourite things about the place, although I will admit that I am a huge fan of the States and many of it's people, despite the bad press it/they get, and often find myself vociferously defending both from attacks by Irish people, many of whom have never actually spent any time there or met any citizens bar those who visit the Emerald Isle.  As well as living there for around 2 years I have visited on several occasions, so I was very happy to be back - especially accompanied by C.

We went out for food and had a chat about where we wanted to head for, and quickly cobbled together a loose itinerary that would see us going from Los Angeles to San Diego, then on to Las Vegas, followed by a trip to the Grand Canyon and finishing in San Franciso.  Now all we needed was a car.  We strolled until we found a Budget Car Rental, emerging around half an hour later in a black Jeep which was quite small for a Jeep but still seemingly enormous, being hesitantly driven by a man who had never driven on the right before.  We had taken the vehicle for 9 nights, returning to San Francisco, and it was far more expensive than I had anticipated.  Thankfully I only had to drive it to our motel, a mere few blocks.  It did feel weird though!  We spent the evening on the internet, booking some accommodation in San Diego, our first destination, and planning and watching television too.  We were in America, after all.

So on Wednesday 19th May we got up and out early.  Mercifully access to the freeway was very close to our motel, so off we set for San Diego, merely 120 miles down Interstate 5.  Automatics are so easy to drive, I still prefer manual though! San Diego is a small-ish city not far from the Mexican border that I had heard nothing but good about over the years, and friends had visited it in January and loved it so we were looking forward to it. Ended up taking the wrong exit from the freeway but jammily found ourselves at the motel, called the West Bay Inn (another America's Best Value) which is on 4th Avenue a nice walking distance from downtown and another area called the Gaslamps which turned out to be pretty cool.  After parking right outside the front door, free, for the rest of the day we were happy to stroll around and check the place out, I bought some Gillette Sensor Excel blades because they were so cheap and Caroline was as ecstatic as she usually is at the prospect of looking in clothes shops.  It's a pretty cool town, quite wealthy largely because of the huge US Navy base in the vicinity, which perhaps also explains the fact that it's a Republican town too.  But yeah, even the homeless people, who all seemed to be on 4th Avenue, were very neat and tidy - all crashed on by 8.30pm!  We didn't have a late one that night, but were out and about early on Thursday 20th May which was a gorgeous day.

We strolled down to a place called the Broken Yolk for breakfast, which promised much but turned out a disappointment as their food was so greasy and the portions were ridiculous.  They had a Simpson-esque 24 egg omelette which you got for free if you managed to finish it, plus they put your picture up in their Hall of Fame!  Greed/gluttony is GOOD.  Then we hit some cool shops, clothes and books, and C managed to buy a few bits and pieces, before opting to take the City Trolley which was basically a sight-seeing bus.  That was very enjoyable, definitely a good choice considering we had so little time in the place.  I loved the way their baseball stadium was right in the city, and the highlight for me was when we went across the bridge to Coronado Island and were shown the place where Some Like it Hot was filmed. It was cool seeing the windows that you saw Jack Lemmon using to sneak out to the beach to pretend he was that oil tycoon who spoke like Cary Grant. That island had plenty of beach action going on too.  We didn't bother disembarking until the trolley reached Balboa Park, an impressive city park close to home, and there we lay in the sun and strolled around a few museums before returning to our motel.  As I recollect my mood wasn't the best that evening, and I only went out to grab some food with C under protest, mind you in the end I was glad I did.

We had a quick poke around the place on the morning of Friday 21st May before jumping in the Jeep - bound for Las Vegas!  We had booked it for 3 nights and were pretty excited about visiting it.  Gambling I am pretty clueless about and have no interest in, but I just figured that Vegas has to be seen once, and Caroline agreed so off we went.  Was a fair drive from San Diego but I like long drives so I was happy enough and the desert scenery as we approached was pretty cool.  We drove up and down the Strip before hitting out hotel, the decidedly non-glamourous Clarion Hotel (formerly Greek Isles) and Casino, situated on Convention Centre Drive, a block or so off the Strip.  We got a great deal there, passing up on the amazing looking hotels on the Strip that were good value, but still to expensive when you have to make money last.  We walked up to the Strip and C went to the gigantic Caesar's Palace Shopping Mall while I went for a stroll to see if there was any yeyo about.  There didn't seem to be.  Walking the Strip was a buzz, despite the large crowds, the thing that surprised me was the in-yer-face escort cards etc.  Some of the hotels and casinos were hilarious looking, and the place is also a people-watchers paradise.  Apart from playing some poker machines in our own hotel over a drink we stayed away from the gambling that night.  The bar woman told me that Vegas is very quiet these days, and that unemployment is huge.  Fuck, you'd never have known it strolling around.

Saturday 22nd May we had breakfast at the American insitution that is Dennys before enjoying a couple of hours by the pool in the blazing hot desert sun, sandwiched between a couple of strolls around the Strip, and a few sessions on the highly addictive poker machines.  It dawned on me that when it came to actual gambling in casinos I was even more clueless than I thought I was, having never been in a casino before.  Rather embarrassing, and the cause of reluctance to enter a proper one.  Playing machines was a good way of hiding the ignorance!  That night we had a couple of delicious cocktails and some good food and again shied away from gambling.  Which is a bit crap considering where we were!

The following morning Sunday 23rd May we were out and about early again, feeling like a right pair of Vegas lightweights!  I spotted a place selling "Veggie Hot Dogs on Sticks" and although sorely tempted didn't partake.  We purchased some tickets to a show by Andrew Dice Clay, a rather crude comedian that I thought might be funny, it was on at the Hilton that night and didn't cost a fortune.  After a drink in our hotel we walked to the Hilton where we paid $20 each for this brilliant all-you-can-eat buffet it was class and there was free beer and wine also if that floated your boat.  We had a cocktail in a bar near the venue, and chatted to this very sound lad from LA who was there for a bachelor party, he had seen Andrew Dice Clay the night before and enjoyed him thoroughly.  We took our seats around 8.30pm, the warm-up act was this female comedian who appeared initially promising, but turned out to be merely crude rather than funny.  So we were sitting there thinking "hurry up and finish" when suddenly the MC for the night appeared alongside the unfunny woman and announced that due to illness Andrew Dice Clay would NOT be performing that night.  What a pain in the hole!  We had to endure another few minutes of the warm-up and plenty foul-mouthed references to her own pussy before we shuffled into the lobby to procure a refund, which of course they wouldn't give us in cash but returned to the credit card instead, and then shuffled tentatively up to the casino cashier where we exchanged $200 for chips.

We had great fun for the next couple of hours, winning well on roulette, getting a craps lesson and throwing money around, as well as enjoying the free alcohol that casinos provide once you are gambling.  Winning is great!  At the end of our little binge we were around $140 up, so we headed back to our own hotel for another couple of drinks and some machine gambling, before retiring around 3am in a rather inebriated state (about as drunk as you can get on gin and tonic anyway - which isn't THAT drunk!).  By god we were both hanging the following morning.  After a quick stroll into the strip so that Caroline could have a security tag removed from a top she purchased we clambered into the car, in fervent agreement that we had really enjoyed our opportunity to see Las Vegas.  It's well worth seeing once, even briefly, but I wouldn't be rushing back at all.  It is a fun place to visit though, and amazingly does not even seem tacky simply because it IS Las Vegas, and that's what you expect from it.  If that makes any sense at all.  As I type this, by the way, I am aware that it sounds quite boring.  Believe me, it wasn't though.  It was very different to South America because we weren't staying in hostels and/or meeting people regularly, but in a way it was very nice to be doing our own thing and keeping a low profile.

But yeah, 3 nights was more than enough for us and we were both looking forward to our destination on Monday 24th May, which was the Grand Canyon, via a place called Williams, Arizona, in which the cheapest and most proximate accommodation was available. The drive was not particularly long, with the added bonus that along the way we could stop to see the Hoover Dam (the one which cracked in Superman!).  Hoover Dam was very impressive, we just had a look ourselves rather than doing the guided tour.  If we had I would have imitated Beavis and Butthead when they visited in Beavis and Butthead Do America - "Ehhhhhhhh, I got a question.  Is this a goddamn??"  We didn't hang around there for very long, but headed on to Williams, quiet and tired and thus subdued and silent in the car.  Caroline unsuccessfully tried to find something decent on the appalling American radio stations, and we resolved to sort out some decent music for our road trips in the future. We arrived at America's Best Value Inn Williams around 6.30pm, and resisted the temptation to crash out immediately.  The receptionist told us that the drive to Grand Canyon National Park was nice and easy, just 60 miles on a good road.

We hit a diner that night and had an alarming greasy dinner (poor vegetarian options!) and when I was paying a guy at the till was chatting to the owner of the diner about some sporting event.  I enquired what the event was and the guy commented in a friendly "with an accent like that you aren't gonna know anything about basketball" but I fired back that Boston Celtics were playing Orlando Magic in the Eastern Conference Finals and Phoenix were playing the La Lakers in the Western Finals for a place in the NBA Finals and he was very surprised - and impressed!  I can't help myself but read the sports pages, and I actually like American sports.  Anyway, that's about as exciting as it got that night,  but we were up and about early on Tuesday 25th May and after breakfast in town we headed up towards the Grand Canyon, which was very exciting indeed.  Despite our visit being of the flying variety, you just can't help being impressed and slightly over-awed by the Canyon.  It is a place where a helicopter ride would be stunning, but after doing that in Iguazu that itch had been scratched.

The flying visit was due to the fact that we found ourselves a considerable distance away from San Francisco to where we had to return the Jeep the following day, and we had little option but to get as close to that wonderful city as possible.  Thus it was that I drove 700 miles, which took around 10 hours including breaks.  It was fucking exhausting, but pretty exhilarating simultaneously.  Looking at the Roadmap after hammered home just how long the journey had been, and I am proud to say it was quite uneventful.  That is, apart from one thoroughly frightening moment when an elderly man driving in front of us drifted into our lane unexpectedly, causing me to swerve and just about manage to squeeze past him.  I was too shocked and relieved to beep or give him the finger!

Even after that epic journey we were still 120 miles shy of SF, in an anonymous little city called Fresno, and we had coffee in our motel room on Wednesday 26th May watching Obama doing a very professional press conference in relation to the horrendous oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.  Fucking stupid BP have a lot to answer for.  Typical it had to occur in the vicinity of New Orleans too - can't that area ever have any good fortune?  Anyway, we had to have a little discussion about our next move, as with Memorial Day weekend looming, the hotel prices in SF were completely outrageous, so we ended up deciding that after dropping the car back we would only remain there one night and do other things for the weekend, and then return when prices were more agreeable.  We booked a night in the Andrews Hotel near Union Square, and hit the road.  Driving into the city was a thrill I won't be forgetting in a hurry, and as we cruised across the Bay Bridge I found myself reflecting on my time there in the mid-90s, and the lost opportunities due to my addiction.  Still, no regrets and how lucky was I to be returning in a better state?  Also, an old mate of mine called Siobhan Doyle (Mark Doyle's sister) had seen on Facebook that we were in the area and had got in contact so I was looking forward to hanging out with her.

We dropped our stuff at Andrews Hotel and after returning the car at the airport returned to the hotel for a cocktail and some Italian food.  This worryingly psychotic girl started chatting to us at the bar.  She laughed hysterically after all her own inconsistent and dubious stories, and kept anxiously glancing at her watch claiming that "her boyfriend" was on her way.  That would be an imaginary boyfriend, we reckoned, as after we were lucky enough to be called to our table we noticed that no-one joined her and she began to babble at other unwitting barflies.  Over dinner we finalised our plans for the weekend - two nights at Lake Tahoe followed by another pair of nights in the Yosemite region - areas that I had not managed to visit before.  Of course, as we were our usual tardy selves when it came to making reservations, we had to settle for a motel in Merced for the Yosemite visit, which was around 80 miles from the park.  It was the closest we could get.

So on Thursday 27th May we had a short stroll around SF and after some breakfast collected a car for the weekend.  Actually it turned out that our vehicle for the weekend was a large, golden coloured 4 x 4 Kia!  The thing was a monster, and was far bigger than what we originally reserved.  When we told the lad where we were going he enquired whether we would need snow chains, and to my rising incredulity said the weather could still be treacherous in June!  So I was hmming and hawing about snow chains and the bloke very decently upgraded us to the Kia at no extra cost.  Good thing he did, too, because as we got close to Tahoe the snow began coming down.  Not just a shower either, we are talking blizzard conditions, so much so that without chains we would not have been allowed to proceed on the roads.  As I was I just somewhat gingerly engaged the 4 x 4 thing and drove on quite cautiously.  Everyone was down to 30mph.  The area was beautiful, the snow made it even moreso.

After checking into the old reliable America's Best Value Inn in Tahoe City (a total we chilled for the evening, having no real desire to explore in the inclement conditions.

SOME DAY I WILL FINISH THIS!