New York! New York!

Well, the epic journey may be over, but we’re all now kicking around in New York. After the sort of anticlimax of parting at the bus, most of us met up again in Greenwich Village, in a pub. Unfortunately we couldn’t all sit together and celebrate the end of the Ozbus trip as a group, which was a great shame. So, as it was Pat’s only evening in New York, we decided to leave after the meal and explore Greenwich Village, a local ice cream parlour and then Times Square – where a NY policeman was coerced into a Rocky moment on camera! A great way to spend our first evening in the city. The last time I was in New York was in 1969….42 years ago. The Empire State Building was the tallest building in New York then, as it is now.

And now, the hostel, which has to be described fully to understand the beauty of this Urban Oasis (yes! that’s its name!). It’s on West 31st Street, just a few metres from the corner of 5th Avenue. A hundred metres the other way is Broadway. From the fire escape you can see the Empire State Building on 34th Street – check out the photo – and sorry it’s a bit diagonal. The only way to fit it in the frame…! The hostel is owned by a Hungarian/Egyptian/’other European’ couple who started it up on the top floor (10th) a couple of years ago, then got occupancy of this floor (9th) about 9 months ago. It’s all furnished in fresh, blond-wood IKEA, with stainless steel/wood kitchens on each floor, all mod cons, lovely rooms and a lift (not an option really). The shared bathrooms are beautiful, well organised and SO clean. And believe me, after months of coping with strange wash facilities, some good, some bad, I know hostel quality when I see it! I guess you could say this is a ’boutique hostel’ and probably influenced heavily by ‘Friends’ loft living and sitting on fire escapes to chill out. I like it! Outside on the block there’s a Indian restaurant, a chic cafe-restaurant, a post office, and in the hotel opposite you can book the shuttle to the airport. What more do you need? So central, just a little oasis…..

I’ve managed to see quite a lot of New York so far, been on three open top hop-on hop-off buses all over Downtown and Brooklyn. One of them, driving through midtown, downtown and Brooklyn, was endured in lashing rain and we were issued with white rain capes which made us look like a Klu Klux Klan parody. A lot friendlier, I should add. Anyway, that’s what I will do again tomorrow, but on the Uptown bus which will take me to the Lincoln Centre and the Metropolitan Museum and Central Park as well as Harlem and the Guggenheim. That’s where I’ll be spending my last day – a very busy day! – before leaving on Sunday for London. I made a list of possible places to visit – enough for about 2 weeks in New York. I’ll be leaving without seeing some of them – so will have to come back again in another 42 years…..


Just a few last minute photos….

And a few more….

more….

and the last few….

Sleepy Hollow and the Big Apple

A little town in the Catskills – Phoenicia – with a campsite called ‘Sleepy Hollow’…..somehow you expect Rip van Winkle, or a headless horseman…But nothing of the sort – a lovely little place!

What a manicured campsite! Short grass, a lovely river flowing by – and showers! Also a lot of mosquitoes, so not so good. And a big sign on the toilet block door about bears in the area. I decided not to set up my tent for the last time – too troublesome with all that carting around of crates etc. – necessary to aid my uprightness from a sleeping position. And I had lost the will to hammer in pegs bent double (me, not the pegs), doing my back in gradually. Much as I loved the experience of camping again, I was running out of energy, so gave it a miss. But I shall get another tent in the UK and gather about me all the geriatric devices I need to help me get in and out and up and down. Most of the others who had tents slept in them this last night, and Charles, our driver, fastened his hammock between two trees. Quite a blissful scene really!

As we arrived, we saw Margaret (who travelled with us from London to Beijing) in her car, complete with basket of goodies: plastic stemmed glasses and various bottles. It was a happy reunion at which we’d expected Sandra and Tony as well (Prague to Anchorage) but we heard from them that they were in Toronto. We had a pretty good evening, Ciaron got out all his fridge magnets, collected all the way from London, and put them in order on the side of the bus – most impressive! About fifty of them. We made a fire later in the evening and sat round chatting. A nice end to the last evening together. Then into the bus (only about five of us, so not crowded) for a final sleep. At least we weren’t driving! I got up in the night to go to the toilet, thought I saw a bear shape…waited for it to move, then realised it was a heap of gravel. When I’m back home again will I suffer from bear withdrawal? Will I actually feel cheated that I never met a bear in the night?

The journey to New York only took a couple of hours, passing through New York state, to New Jersey and then through the Lincoln Tunnel to Manhattan. We entered the city accompanied by Alicia Keys – ‘New York’ and then by Sinatra. I prefer the first! There was a bit of a scramble to get off the bus as it parked for just minutes at the side of the road. We were all prepared, tumbled off, grabbed our bags, hugged the people nearest and dispersed. And so the epic journey ended, after 87 days in close confinement with up to 22 others.

Just chillin’ – the beach, Niagara and Woodstock

It’s a bit peculiar to wake up in the bus, with it hurtling around, and not know where you are. The signs on the road indicated we were near a city, as the exits were named ‘Superior Ave’, and other such street names. But no idea which city…. Until I saw another sign for Cleveland Sanitation Services. So we’d reached Cleveland, Ohio, and about an hour later swung off the main road to a car park with a psychedelic toilet block and access to a lovely beach on Lake Erie. We did the usual toilet race then had breakfast and settled with chairs, ice cream, books, suntan lotion etc on the beach for a few hours’ R&R. Very nice!

Early afternoon we set off again in the direction of Buffalo and Niagara Falls, reaching there about 5.30 in the afternoon. Unfortunately some of us were told by an official that the last trip on ‘Maid of the Mist’ was at 6, so we’d missed it. Shame. We went into town on the USA side from Goat Island where we were parked, and had a look at some of the Indian restaurants – one was a van and the other pretty empty…. so we went to the Hard Rock Cafe! and had a pretty good meal there. As luck would have it, or not, we then went down to the observatory point (8.19pm by this time) to take photos, and found we’d missed the REAL last boat which had sailed at 8pm. Bugger. In spite of all this, I found it a beautiful area and was glad not to have tried to go over the bridge to Canada, which was apparently much tackier and tourist-ridden. The river races down towards the two falls areas on either side of Goat Island, quite torrential and foaming green and white in places, and carrying whole tree trunks with it. The parkland on the US side is lovely and tranquil. A pretty spot.

Back at the bus again, some of us watched the fireworks while waiting for the return of those who’d walked across the bridge to Canada. Then we bedded down again, and set off into the night. I had a strange encounter at a toilet stop/petrol station: half-past three in the morning there I was in my pyjamas buying a bottle of water, getting bemused look from a guy who’d just bought petrol – sorry, gas. I then waited outside at the toilet when he came up to me and asked where we were headed. ‘New York’, I replied. ‘You serious? New York, New York?’ he asked. I said yes. Then he asked where we’d come from; ‘London’, I answered. He gave me a look, said ‘Uh’ and got into his car and drove away. Obviously thought I was kidding. Or mad.

So, back to bed, too hot in my sleeping bag and too cool without, due to excellent air-con. Slept a bit, but woke early, did my dressing gymnastics inside my sleeping bag and settled comfortably with my Kindle. We seemed to drive across country for a while – judging from the narrow roads and U-turns in villages we strayed into by mistake! By the time we reached Bethel, the home of Woodstock and our next visit, most people on the bus had woken up. Lush green fields with a memorial to the big gig that America has never forgotten. After breakfast in the car park we spent a few hours at the ‘Museum at Bethel Woods’ as it is now known. What a memory trip! It was great to hear all the music from the 60s – my decade – and see the groups etc. How young they looked….I saw Joan Baez in concert in Cardiff just a couple of years ago, and it was so strange seeing her on film from the Sixties. They also had collections of singles and LPs – some of which I have. Does that make me a museum piece too?

We’re now on the bus again; just stopped at a small town called Liberty to get some shopping. Ice, beer, food for our last breakfast tomorrow. Tonight we’re in Phoenicia at a campsite called Sleepy Hollow; we should be meeting up with Margaret, who left us in Beijing, and Sandra and Tony who left us in Anchorage (but who couldn’t stay away and came to our hostel in Vancouver!). Tomorrow we hit New York, and the trip is over. I have 5 days in the Big Apple, then a few more in London before going home, so need to do washing and sort out my bags, send a parcel or two to myself in Barry, and of course, dye my hair. This is therefore not the last post – there will be more!

Chicago! Chicago!

This has to be the best hostel yet. The Getaway Hostel with a logo of a man in a gangster’s hat getting away… It has a great common area, with leather sofas, lots of PCs, a wonderful kitchen and eating area, and an outside space on two levels with loungers. We arrived early in the day and stored our luggage – even had a free breakfast before going out to explore. We finally got a train into the city – standing room only, and excruciating as my knee got trapped and I couldn’t move. So painkillers from Linda and then a short walk to the John Hancock building and the open-top city tour bus. Much the best way to see a city if you haven’t got much time. I suppose the tour took about two hours, with a very good guide who knew his stuff. I fell asleep at one point and maybe missed something, who knows! I have learned to sleep on buses since travelling Green Tortoise. Hopefully this doesn’t mean that I’m now programmed to drop off, stretched out on the back seat, every time I catch the No. 96 from Barry to Cardiff.

Chicago has the most amazing architecture – old mixed with new. I suppose they had a second chance of getting it right after a fire, about a century ago, destroyed all the wooden buildings and left plenty of room for town planning to reconstruct the city. It is certainly a very pretty city, with lots of water: the river that runs through the city, bordered by skyscrapers, cafes and restaurants; and the lake itself, Michigan, with its miles of beaches, boats and parks. Both days we explored the city, using the buses to get around.

On the evening of the first day, some of us went out to Kingston Mines, a blues club fairly near the hostel. Great music from Eric ‘Guitar’ Davis and another couple of bands. Most of the group left after the main act, but Pat and I remained with Michele for a while longer. Great atmosphere and music! A sort of mixture of blues and rock. On the way back to the hostel we stopped at a night pharmacy as I needed something to kill the pain and itch of the bites on my neck and face. Got a telling off from the sales assistant for asking her advice; she refused on the grounds that I might sue her. Let’s hope this particular level of litigation-fear never hits the UK.


The next day we took a taxi to downtown Chicago and strolled through the park, got ourselves our free Chicago Trolley and Opentop Bus T-shirts, and had a bit of a gander at the famous bean. This is a massive shiny silver bean that you can walk around, and under, and see yourself and the buildings of Chicago reflected/distorted in. Quite a show-stealer! Pat went off to do some shopping in Macy’s and Linda and I went off on the opentop bus again, with me falling asleep again, unsurprisingly. While searching for a toilet sometime later, on the Golden Mile, we discovered a gem of a restaurant with the most amazing decor. A few more days here wouldn’t go amiss. So much to see!

In the evening, before leaving on the bus at midnight, a few of us went on a river and lake cruise. It left the pier at Michigan St. at about 7.45pm and went upriver, then returned and went through the Chicago Lock and out on Lake Michigan. The city looked amazing as the light faded and all the buildings lit up. But windy! Actually, that’s not why Chicago is named the windy city, but rather because its politicians can be a bit windy, full of hot air. Now I never knew that before!

So here I am, sitting in the hostel waiting for the off. In an hour’s time I’ll be swaddled in my sleeping bag, lying like a sardine on one of the mattresses on the bus, on the way to Lake Erie and Niagara Falls, and only three days away from New York, and the end of this journey. But I’ll come back to Chicago again when I get the chance.

A short Indian history…

Cuny Table – in the Badlands.

Up with the lark, such a beautiful day after the wild storm and rain of the night before, breakfasted on delicious blueberry pancakes made by Charles, our Masterchef, and off to a nearby Visitors’ Centre to use toilets and brush teeth. Sully needed some persuading, as he claimed he didn’t know of this centre and wanted us to wait till later, some other stop. But Charles had told us about it, that it was nearby, and he’d schedule a stop there. Most others had braved the night and headed for a dip in the prairie landscape to use as a toilet – some even taking the shovel with them; I’d implemented mind over matter so I didn’t need to go in the night. However, by the time breakfast was done and we’d cleared up, we were all ready to trample each other to get to proper plumbing.

Toilets and Indian teepee apart, the White River Visitor Centre was very informative, especially the lady behind the desk who talked to me at length about the Cuny Table where we’d camped, and about the Stronghold in general, where the Ghost Dance had been performed countless times in the period leading up to the massacre at Wounded Knee in 1890. The Ghost Dance, perhaps referred to in Western literature as the Indian War dance, was actually nothing of the sort. It was not a preparation for war against the American soldiers and settlers, but rather a ritual spiritual ceremony aimed at saving the land from the invaders and restoring the bison to the land and to the native tribes who so depended on them. Consequently, fear of Indian attack was uppermost and the Dance entirely misinterpreted; the result was panic at Wounded Knee when Indians who had gathered there to perform the ceremony were asked to surrender their guns. Allegedly, one deaf Indian misunderstood and refused as his gun had cost him a lot of money; he held it aloft and as an officer tried to grab it the gun went off and signaled the troops to start shooting. Hundreds of unarmed Indians, women and children included, were massacred. According to the woman at the Visitors’ Centre, those who escaped took refuge on Cuny Table and farther into the Badlands, and although pursued by soldiers, managed to remain hidden. So it became known as the Stronghold Table.

The Badlands National Park covers a huge area, much of it pure wilderness, and is a protected prairie eco-system. Fifty percent of the park forms the Pine Ridge Indian Reservation and is co-managed by the Oglala Lakota Sioux Nation. Lots of them have their own land there, which they farm where possible given the poor soil, or keep cattle. The Cuny family on whose land we camped are typical of the native Americans who try to make a living on this fascinating but difficult terrain. Pine Ridge – second largest reservation in the States – has the highest poverty and alcohol-related death statistics in the USA. So, not an easy life.

After leaving the visitors’ centre, we headed off east and north… stopping at a strange little ghost town on the way. Just a gaol, a saloon, a store and a few other tumbledown buildings. Dusty and with stuff blowing across the road – just like in old movies. One of the buildings was coated in animal skulls. Another had carved eagles along the roof, together with sheet metal cut-out horses and cowboys. A sad place; I almost expected to hear plaintive mouth organ music somewhere….

A bit more Indian history: Crazy Horse, the Oglala Sioux leader who is now being commemorated in stone (see last post!) defeated Custer and his company at the Battle of Little Bighorn in 1876. In 1877 he made demands that bison lands remain in Indian hands, but his request was misunderstood, a rumour arose that he wished to murder the general and as a result he was arrested and bayoneted in a tussle outside the jail. This all marked the end of the Indian wars. By this time, the Oglala Sioux had moved from their good hunting ground west of the Great Lakes to the poorer land of Missouri – the Badlands and Black Hills of South Dakota. In their place came European settlers, flooding into Nebraska, South Dakota, Wyoming and Montana. According to the woman at the Visitors’ Centre, The Sioux were relegated to this poor land as it was regarded as worthless by the American government – until the Gold Rush, when thousands of prospectors raced in and forced the Sioux to relinquish their sacred Black Hills. The result of all this, was banishment to Pine Ridge Reservation – the only alternative being disintegration of the Sioux Nation. A very sad story and one which has lasting repercussions even today for the original natives. I was glad to see that so many traditions and skills have been preserved within the Oglala Sioux community at Pine Ridge – a very strong people who won’t be killed off.

Just north of this large prairie area is Wall – its claim to fame being Wall Drug, apparently known around the world as a pharmacy and veterinary supplies shop. I’d never heard of it. It provides the most disney-like contrast to the beautiful Badlands. Possibly the kitsch-iest place I’ve ever seen or been to, with its filmset frontages and bar-room brawl atmosphere. It even has a giant plastic dinosaur somewhere, which I didn’t see, thankfully. It apparently gets up to 20,000 visitors a day. America is truly crazy. Actually, there were some shops which were interesting, so I mustn’t damn the whole place. And they had good examples of Indian (and cowboy) art all over the place.

Next stop was back in the Badlands – another visitors’ centre; we parked the bus at a particularly beautiful spot, had some food and then Charles surprised us with a great, colourful birthday cake for Linda and Ben, candles and all! Such a nice touch! After clearing up we went off to explore. Some took trails but I just stayed within a short distance of the bus, either sitting reading in a shady spot (taking care to avoid rattlesnakes) or around the rock formations, which, we found out, surrounded quite a deep crater. I actually managed a bit of rock clambering – easier to climb up than get back down with dodgy knees! My consultant would have a fit if he knew what I’d been doing with his lovely titanium knee. Lots of good photo opportunities, especially at sunset. We also did a group photo which was nice…

After this visit, we left the Badlands behind us, got on the bus for another overnight sleep-trip and headed for New Ulm, in Minnesota. This was a restful day. We arrived fairly early and had breakfast and dinner by the bus in a park with a very German name…which now escapes me. This was our introduction to a pristine, manicured, freshly painted little community of German origin – obvious from the names of shops in town: Haar Friseure, Mietwaschsalon….usw.! If it hadn’t been for the German inflluence I’d have thought we were on the set of ‘Stepford Wives’.

We spent some time in the laundromat, with bags of washing, and taking advantage of their sockets and wifi as we waited. Back at the park we showered thoroughly at the swimming beach (round, artificial with sand and lifeguards who forced everyone out of the water every ten minutes) and emptied out the bus on to the grass. People found odd socks, one pair of knickers… but not my purse with $160 in. So I’ll be looking for employment when I get home. As well as being able to give the bus a bit of a dust out, it also prompted me to pack a bit better and throw out stuff which I’d been harbouring for too long. All this work – and we’re supposed to be on holiday!

The bugs were biting badly that night and I woke up next day – another overnight on the bus – with huge bites on and around my face. But I woke in Chicago!! And at a hostel! Showers and a real bed!!

Mt Rushmore and Badlands

Today is June 14th, Linda’s birthday. We both stumbled sleepily into a service station washroom in the early hours for a ‘comfort break’. As we sat there in adjacent cubicles, I sang ‘happy birthday’ very badly, but with feeling, to her. Linda’s is the first birthday of the trip, with Ben’s tomorrow. They won’t forget them in a hurry!

Our next toilet break came some hours later, about 7am, with most of the bus racing for the washroom building. We had strict instructions from Boot-Camp Drillmaster not to brush our teeth as it would slow us down. I’m put in mind of that TV programme following the life-changing experiences of snotty, challenging UK teenagers who skip school and terrorise their parents. The ones that are sent over to the desert or similar to be disciplined in Boot Camp. While our driver Charles is very laid back and stresses that this is OUR holiday, Sully insists on his way and obviously feels we need real hardship in order to experience the world of Green Tortoise. He mentioned a day or so ago, that he always says ‘no’ to suggestions, but then compromises. This is his way, and we just need to know it! So straighten your backs up there and eyes forward….. Actually, he has chilled considerably since Seattle – I reckon he’s happy to have a partner from Green Tortoise when dealing with recalcitrants like us who insist on democratic decision-making!

Mid morning, still in Wyoming (which is beautiful and lush) we reached Devil’s Tower, a volcanic plug, similar to Dumbarton on Clydeside, thrust out of the earth and rising majestically above the trees and surrounding hills. It commands the same sort of reverence among native Indians as does Uluru in Australia, and many legends have sprung up around it. One Native American legend has it that while the boys of the family were out hunting, a sister became a Bear and killed all the family, apart from one other sister. This remaining sister and the boys who returned from hunting were pursued by the Bear and were helped by a Bison, a Slab of Stone, and a Tree. The Bison slowed the Bear down, the children took refuge on the Slab of Stone and the Tree caused it to grow up into the sky and out of the reach of the Bear, who nevertheless tried to grab the children and in doing so scraped great weals in the side of the rock with her claws. Nice story. The area is full of wildlife; in about 15 minutes I saw prairie dogs, white-tailed deer and a golden eagle. And countless other birds I can’t name.

And then there was Mount Rushmore – I honestly wasn’t expecting a great deal, just a couple of heads in stone… but I was really impressed with the visitors’ centre which demonstrated through photos and film just how this mammoth sculpture was undertaken. The artist himself, Gutzon Borglum, had an interesting life and great vision. And the men who sat on spindly harnesses and swung themselves around (no Health and Safety legislation then…) from single steel cables (no safety ropes) with heavy drills and chisels in their hands – amazing. In response to the new Americans carving their presidents’ heads into the rock, American Indians hit upon an even more ambitious project: the sculpting of Crazy Horse – a much revered Chief – out of rock, only on an even more majestic scale. This was begun 50 years ago by a sculptor and on his death has been continued by his wife, ten children and even more grandchildren, and they estimate it’ll take another 50 years to complete. It is so huge that they reckon 4,000 people could stand on Crazy Horse’s outstretched arm. I would love to have seen this – even in it’s unfinished state. After all, I won’t be around when it’s completed anyway!

Our last stop of the day – before setting up camp – was the Cuny homestead, in the Badlands. This part of the Badlands is a reservation for Lakota Sioux Indians, and the Cuny family owns the area on which we would be camping. The Badlands are beautiful and quite haunting; they stretch for miles and can appear bleak… especially if you are on foot with no water, I suppose. They were formed 69 million years ago when an ancient sea stretched across what is now the Great Plains. After the sea retreated, leaving behind all sorts of sediment, there was a succession of changes geologically, as rivers and flood plains continued to deposit sediments up until about 28 million years ago. Significant erosion of the Badlands didn’t begin until a mere half a million years ago and this erosion continues to carve the Badlands buttes today. Eventually, the Badlands will completely erode away. They got their name from French settlers and/or native Sioux who recognised that nothing would grow in the soil. After driving along narrow roads, we finally came across directions to the Cuny Table. We were met by Tammy who, with her family, had cooked up a lovely meal of Indian bread and all the trimmings on top. They lived in a bungalow with one or two outbuildings, and a couple of dogs. A lonely existence in one respect, but set amidst a beautiful wilderness. They made us very welcome – even producing cake to celebrate Linda’s years on the planet! Just along a path which led up a hill, there was perched a blue toilet which we all visited, knowing there would be no facilities where we were camping. Rough stuff! A drop toilet, of course, but with a seat, which makes all the difference. And a novel way of displaying whether it was engaged or not. We could see changes in the sky by this time, and as we drove away we were aware of darkening, menacing clouds. A short distance later and we were at Cuny Table, the spot designated for our camp. We drove over the prairie, surrounded by the strange rock formations, and stopped at an area which had a small crater – nice for campfires and parties! The sky was darkening with rainclouds and we could see rain falling in sheets in the distance. And the odd fork of lightening. Several people (not me) decided to pitch their tents and as the rain began to gently fall they unpacked and set up. By the time the rain was lashing violently, and those outside were soaked, most tents were up. And then the wind came…. I don’t know what speed, but fast and wild. The prairie grass blew in all directions – so pretty, quite mesmerising. Some of the tents began to lose their fly sheets, those who were inside lay there, stopping them from taking off into the sky Wizard of Oz-like. A couple of tents collapsed….and then it was over. We battened down the hatches, and most of us settled for the night. No wild party in the muddy crater!

I woke once in the night – or rather early morning – and witnessed the most beautiful sunrise – a palette of colours appearing over the strange peaks and craters of the Badlands. A gorgeous spot. You can just imagine the history that has played out here….

The Lower 48 – the road to Yellowstone

We left Seattle just after 8pm, bunked down for the night drive in our sleeping bags and were whisked eastwards. I think. I remember staggering out of the bus in my pyjamas at about 5.30 at Missoula, Montana, to visit a ‘restroom’ in a filling station. Then back to sleeping bag and another sleep until we stopped at Silver Bow Creek near Anaconda for breakfast. Have you ever tried getting dressed inside a sleeping bag? With knees like mine? It’s quite a feat and by the time I get home I’ll be able to do it.

After about 19 hours on the road we still didn’t seem to be getting anywhere, and no one knew when we would reach Jackson, our destination. Half the bus was asleep again by this time, including one of our drivers, as we climbed high into the Rockies, over the top and down to Wilson, Wyoming. The snow covered mountains of the Grand Teton National Park came as a bit of a surprise – the thaw is very late this year and we’ve been told to expect more snow than is normal in June. Heading east and crossing the winding Snake River, we finally got to Jackson at about 4pm – 20 hours after leaving Seattle, which, given the distance, was pretty good going. It pays to have two drivers!

We had a welcome break in Jackson itself – found a bakery with nice fresh food and coffee and then walked around the town for about half an hour. There’s a little park in the centre of this town, with arches made of elk antlers positioned at each corner. Lots of bronze statues of cowboys and local wildlife. A cute little place!

We camped for the night at Colter Bay, on Jackson Lake. I decided to stay on the bus as I really didn’t relish all the work of putting up and taking down the tent just for one night. (I was very glad next morning, after hearing the rain beating on the bus in the night). Anyway, that night we had our first camp cookup: salad, pasta with asparagus, broccoli and masses of parmesan. Very good. They feed us well. As it got darker, we lit a fire – using local wood only as they don’t want to import pests from other parts of the country – and sat round the campfire chatting, watching the flames and listening to Andy strumming his guitar. Very atmospheric! I had a disturbed night in the bus; plenty of room but I couldn’t get comfortable – lots of aches and pains in the morning.

The following morning we set off for Yellowstone National Park proper – entering by the south gate at Jackson. Yellowstone was initially made famous due to its unique geology caused by its location on the North American plate, which for millions of years has slowly moved across a (enormous) mantle hotspot via plate tectonics. The Yellowstone Caldera is a volcanic system, the largest in North America, which has formed as a result of this hot spot and subsequent large volcanic eruptions. And we’re talking big here: the caldera measures 40km by 60km, and when you descend into this area you can see the ring of mountains all around you stretching into the distance.

Then we were off to ‘Old Faithful’ in Yellowstone Park. A great geyser. (Sorry). It spouts at regular intervals – yes, there’s actually a timetable! And the visitors’ centre is really fabulous, with great displays of all the wonderful sights of Yellowstone Park. I’m impressed at how well they do all this and could have spent hours more just reading up on the area. The park extends across Wyoming, Montana and Idaho and is home to grizzlies, elk, bison – we saw a lot of these – and wolves – we saw none. By this time I was noticing the altitude as I had a headache which disappeared after a bit. But general exhaustion, sore muscles and a bit of light-headedness. And an urge to sleep, which I gave in to, sitting on the bus. Some people walked up to Biscuit Basin, so-called because of the biscuit formation around the springs, which unfortunately were partly destroyed by earthquake a few years ago. I did some of the walk, but found the fumes a bit overpowering so hung about near the start just taking photos – such amazing colours! We’re treading on very thin ground here, literally as one of the signs indicated: ‘In thermal areas the ground may be only a thin crust above boiling hot springs or scalding mud. There is no way to guess a safe path: new hazards may bubble up overnight and some pools are acidic enough to burn through boots. More than a dozen people have been scalded to death and hundreds badly burned and scarred.’ Sadly, some people felt the urge to dip a finger in, Russian Roulette fashion. Human nature fascinates me.

The camp we were supposed to stay at was closed due to unmelted snow – we’d heard warnings that flooding was expected due to the very late-in-the-season melting of snow. Eventually we got space at Bridge Bay campsite – the highest elevation so far at about 7784 feet. One of the local rangers gave an evening talk on the animals in the park, using skulls to demonstrate their feeding habits. fascinating really. Again I didn’t camp, but stayed in the bus and experienced the coldest night so far. But I spent it very cosily in my sleeping bag, with the inner fleece as well. I got up in the night to go to the toilet – pitch dark, full cloud cover. As I wandered off with a fellow traveller we got onto the wrong section of tarmac; when it ended we realised our mistake, so retraced our steps and got onto the right road. The next morning we saw how close we’d been to the forest…. bear country! Just metres away! Talking of which, Linda found huge bear tracks just a metre or two away from a tent some of the guys were sleeping in. A close call, I think.


Today is Monday 13th June and we’ve just left Yellowstone. We took the road north from Fishing Bridge, stopping at Mud Volcano – the Cooking Hillside – where sulfurous steam engulfed us.Then there were the many, many bison by the roadside, so lots of photos! Some people got out of cars – with their children – hoping for cosy shots of their families with bison. Mad. You have to see the size of these animals.

And then there was the Yellowstone Canyon area which was just magnificent. The Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River: a huge gash in the earth, laying bare rock of beautiful colours, and waterfalls crashing down to lower levels. It’s here you realise how Yellowstone got its name. It’s difficult not to keep snapping away with the camera, but nothing is ever a good as the real thing: every shade of ochre, lemon yellow, peach, salmon red, burnt orange – just amazing. But very steep and crumbly, with trees balancing precariously, their roots all exposed but hanging on for dear life.

Leaving the canyon, we climbed up into mountains, then down the other side – I could feel the change in altitude, monitoring it with my body! Such a relief when the slight nagging headache and spaced out feeling faded. We travelled on a road which is closed in winter – and you could see why: it’s June now, but at the roadside there are deep, deep banks of snow which were sliced into in order to free the road up for traffic.

We are now farther north in Montana, having left Yellowstone behind. The last few hours have been spent at Chico Hot Springs, taking advantage of showers, restaurants and wifi. In an hour’s time – 11.30pm – we board the bus for an overnight sleepn’drive in the direction of the Badlands. And then it’s wild camping for a night. No toilets in other words. Just a bus on the prairie……Are we mad? Yes.

Seattle – home of Starbucks!

Which is where I’m sitting right now. Not in the original one – but I did get a picture of that one.

We fell out of the bus at 2pm and will depart at 8pm for Jackson Hole, in Montana. Another overnight drive with us like mummies lined up together. But now we are depleted: three left in Vancouver this morning, and another left when we arrived here. So now we are 12… plus Michele, our leader, and Sully, our driver. And when we get back on the bus tonight we’ll have a second driver, Charles.

The mood on the bus was very light and bubbly this morning; however, there appear to be huge discrepancies between what people expected of the trip, and the actual trip as it has been so far. I have not been disappointed in any of it, really. Any difficulties I’ve encountered have been due to my own physical limitations (age, tiredness, knees, bites, chest infections – what a list!), and not to the planning of the trip. I always knew it was a budget trip, and I also knew it was flexible – there could be changes. But there are serious undercurrents of dissatisfaction and, dare I say it, some bitchiness which I didn’t really expect. A fair bit of manipulative behaviour, maligning of others, skewed perceptions (in my opinion) and snide remarks. For those of you familiar with Transactional Analysis, it’s plain to see which people aren’t in Adult Ego state! I am having a ball observing the developments and analysing character traits – will there be a book in this?! Mmmm…..

This trip has so far been all I expected in terms of places, cultures, wildlife etc.; what I didn’t consider was the mix of people and the effect that negativity on the part of some people can affect the rest of the group. In normal life you can escape this by removing yourself from situations; on a bus where you’re travelling and sleeping together, you can’t. Or rather, you can for a time if you have a tent to escape to!

As I said, I’m now on my second coffee in Starbucks at Pike Place market – which is such a buzzing place! I’ve been joined by Doug, Linda and Andy, who has just had his wild hair and beard tidied up. Doug and I visited some fantastic shops in the market, including a second-hand bookshop where the owner read me a love poem. How romantic is that… Before that, a few of us explored the market – vast and on at least two floors – and had a very nice meal at a little restaurant. Then we hit the shops. I bought a world map with the Pacific in the centre; just need to get it home in one piece now. Also had a look at T-shirts and local crafts. Seattle seems a nice place to live. People are friendly, relaxed and welcoming. One guy we met chatted on the street and was really interested in our overland trip. He had a certain resemblance to someone in movies….and admitted that people had pulled him up on this in the past.

I like Seattle!

Farewell to Canada….

This last stretch to Vancouver is manic. As I write I am sitting in the bus, hours late for our rendez-vous with Vancouver. We’ll be lucky if we get there by midday, when we were due there at about 9am, after another fun-filled overnight drive.

Leaving Banff after a night on the bus (parked in a campsite) and lovely showers and breakfast, we headed for Lake Louise. A beautiful spot and so well documented by all those who have been there, so I won’t elaborate. Just to say that there was mist on the mountains, and the floating ice on the lake made it quite ethereal and mystical. There were very few people there; some girls threw stones on to the ice – and we followed suit – in order to see the spears of ice, six to eight inches long, attached vertically to each other to form the ice sheet, float off horizontally in a fan shape like miniature icy logs in the water.

To while away the time while waiting for a lost member of the group to amble back to the bus, I asked everyone what luxury item, if any, they had brought on the trip. Given that we were advised to travel extremely light, we shouldn’t really have had anything apart from the utilitarian. So the list: (I won’t embarrass people by naming them personally, I’ll just denote male or female): hair straighteners/hair dye (that was me, actually…), own tent (f), iPad (m), perfume, tweezers and magnifying mirror (f), Kindle (f), Epilady (f), laptop (f)(m), smart phone (2xm), make-up (f), pack of cards (f), hair dryer (f), techno stuff (m), travel kettle (f). The male/female divide is quite significant! Boys and their toys…. girls and their primpery!!

We made a couple of stops on the way after that, one of them being way up in the Yoho National Park at Spiral Tunnels, the steepest part of the Canadian-Pacific railroad, which must have been a nightmare to build, but a great improvement on the steep gradient that trains had to navigate prior to 1909 when the tunnels were made. Before 1909, steam trains had to laboriously climb up in one direction, but descending was far more treacherous with trains running away and littering the countryside with their wrecks as they negotiated ‘Big Hill’. Sometime in the 1880s, this whole mountain area was opened up by the railroad and tourists burst into the mountains which they previously couldn’t access very easily. The railway follows the path of the Kicking Horse Pass and Kicking Horse Valley and due to the rapid descent of the river (named by an explorer who was kicked by his packhorse but survived) was one of the railway’s more challenging projects. The scenery here, way up in the Canadian Rockies, was just amazing; you could just imagine how tourists would flock here 130 years ago – unsuitably dressed, of course, judging from the pictures at the lookout post – all top hats and parasols! We were lucky enough to be at this lookout point when a train passed just beneath us. We watched as it spiralled around and went through a tunnel in the distance – with the back end of the train still below us! Must have been about a mile long….

Revelstoke, where we arrived mid afternoon, was a pretty little town with a railroad history. A very quiet place… not much life about it and certainly not many people around. Nice cafes and in the evening a nice hotel bar where we met a girl who had backpacked to the region, and stayed when she found work. But I think she was planning to move on too. When we arrived, we hung our wet tents on lines which we stretched between trees in the car park. Littering this lovely town! We took the remaining ones down and stowed them away when we braved it back to the bus, to step gingerly over sleeping bodies to the spots we’d chosen for the night. Sully slept in his little box until about 2am, then started the bus up and set off for Vancouver. It’s now 25 to 12 and we’re 80 km away. Slow going, lots of delays due to pit stops and bus checks. I’m going to find a hospital A&E and get my vicious-looking leg bites checked out. Just to put my mind at rest, as being diabetic I don’t want to chance them not healing properly.

We’re all looking forward to a night in a hostel, and the opportunity to get our clothes in a washing machine. The little things, like fresh smelling clothes, take on huge importance at times like this, and we have to remind ourselves that this is not an endurance test, but a holiday(!), or rather, an adventure trip. We take each day as it comes; on the bus at the moment there are people on laptops, playing cat’s cradle, reading, sleeping, listening to their own music, playing cards, gazing out of windows. Waiting for Vancouver.

A Postscript….

We are now in Vancouver at our hostel in the city. Arrived at 12.30 and immediately got our washing put in. Then Linda and I went to a walk-in medical centre where I saw a doctor ($110 and well worth it) who examined my bites and pronounced them Deer Fly bites. So I now have triple antibiotic cream which has taken away the burning sensation. No infection, thank goodness, but I will get it all checked out when I get home. I know this nurse who’s quite an authority….

Then we had a slice of pizza and a coke – late lunch. Our rooms were free some time after so we got our bags sorted and went out and enjoyed the city for a few hours. We were lucky enough to catch the last opentop bus as it passed by near our hostel in Granville Street, and after a tour along the waterfront on Beach Avenue, Stanley Park and the rest of downtown, we ended up at Gastown on Water Street. Right by the whacky steam clock! By this time it was early evening, so we found a nice restaurant, spent a bit of money in some shops (a lovely leather bracelet) and posed alongside Gassy Jack, so-called because he was well known for his talking, ranting and tales of derring-do – “desperate adventures and hairbreadth escapes from Sydney docks, Yankee road agents, Mexican bandits, grizzly bears, etc.” He was a Hull sailor who had chased gold (unsuccessfully) in California and elsewhere and ended up buying the Globe Saloon in Vancouver, where he would hold forth on any and every topic. He was cheated, ruined, started again, and finally died at the age of 44 – but they named this area of Vancouver – Gastown – after him. And erected a statue of him. So a lasting memorial!

We caught a taxi back to Granville Street and while Pat and Linda went off to find a pedicure, I explored local shops. Back at the hostel, I bumped into Sandra and Toni who had left us in Anchorage to savour the delights of Hawaii, and who had now caught up with us again – just for the evening. Nice!

At last – Dave and Lilli!!

There is something a little surreal about a group of people pouring out of a bus into the washrooms of a visitors’ centre in the cool and drizzle of the morning. So there I stood, with a small audience, having a standup wash and changing bra and T-shirt in a public toilet somewhere near Mount Robson on the way to Jasper. Those who hadn’t taken advantage of the washrooms had been squatting with their laptops plugged into sockets, feverishly using the free wifi to get messages to the outside world. Living on a bus is at times fun, at other times very challenging. After 17 or 18 days you begin to feel there is no life outside the bunks and mats that are Green Tortoise. Every available space is used: overhead bunks also double as bag stowaway areas and have to be cleared when people want to sleep; the floor is littered with shoes and sandals; a cool box containing bottles and ice is stowed under one of the two tables; damp towels hang from the bunks like bunting after our hurried washroom visits on shore. Even Michele’s copy of the itinerary is beginning to look ragged and we still have a couple of weeks to go before it’s allowed to give up the ghost. We are a lone green ship passing through the most amazing landscape of British Columbia. We are beginning to feel like exiles from the real world, which, apart from stops along the way to take photos, we are not really part of. And I’m not even going to start on the dynamics of the group which would be a great research project – or even a springboard for a Big Brother contest…… So yes, it’s all a bit surreal.


Back to British Columbia and Alberta: the landscape is so magnificent, it takes your breath away. Jasper is a pretty little town and marks the start of the Icefields Parkway. We followed the Athabasca River to its source at the Athabasca Glacier in the Columbia Icefield – so many glaciers all coming out in close proximity to each other. We stopped at this point and walked towards the Athabasca Glacier, over a large expanse of moraine brought down to the base of the mountain by the action of the glacier in fairly recent years. The glacier has receded to a point where it perches atop a high, rounded shelf. The extremely high banks of deposited lateral moraine below this shelf are an indication of the depth of the glacier before it melted. We’re talking of at least 200 feet. Other glaciers showed signs of calving off, with the ice sometimes dropping off shelves to the ground, or glacial lakes below. Quite different to the glaciers on the coast which calf directly into the sea.

All along this route we drove next to pale, spearmint green raging waters, interspersed with sandy moraine islands and rapids. The mountains appeared like giant slabs piled up against one another. Waterfalls, creeks and the frozen Hector Lake – all magic.

And then we were in Banff, and at the campsite at Tunnel Mountain there was a car parked at the side of the road. Some of my co- travellers waved at the girl standing beside the car as she ran excitedly to the driver’s side after spotting the bus, and I realised that Dave and Lilli had got to our meeting point before me. We only had about two and a half hours together before they had to set off back to Calgary, but it was very special. I got to meet Lilli at last, and she’s lovely! And seeing my little brother at last on his home ground was fantastic. We had a great meal together at Coyote in Banff and talked our heads off. Wonderful.