Day 9 - Welcome to the jungle
June 20, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C
16:00
The public transport options up to Khao Yai National Park are limited. There’s a train that runs to Pak Chong, to the North of the park, but we’re staying South, and getting across the park will prove tricky. We decide to jump in a cab, as the Grab app reckons it’s only going to be 1,100 Baht. This seems very cheap to me, but - ok. Our driver arrives, and immediately starts to negotiate an increase. Part of me wants to tell him to fuck off, but the greater part of me recognises that the price quoted by Grab (an Uber type company) is incredibly low compared to the around town cab prices we’ve been paying during our stay in Thailand. Khao Yai is fully 2 hours / 100 miles away, and the price he’s asking for seems reasonable. I checked with a couple of local cab companies yesterday, and they all wanted upwards of 4,000 Baht for the same journey. Our negotiation is fairly stilted, as our driver speaks very little English, and that’s twice as much Thai as I have. Google Translate saves us though, and soon enough we’re en route.
The drive out is hair-raising. I’ve not done a long (ish) drive in a small vehicle yet. Our minivan experience to Pai and back is the closest to it. It’s ‘interesting’ to be able to see what the driver dude is up to here. He’s obviously keeping an eye on where we’re going, but mainly he’s watching a Thai TV soap opera. He’s definitely in the ‘confidently aggressive’ category of cab driver. We’re happy enough in the back, chatting away, and trying to ignore the occasional sharp braking…
The drive up takes fully 2 hours. We very nearly head in the wrong direction at one point, but I catch it in time. We realise (via the means of Google Translate etc etc) that there is another very similarly named hotel about 10km in the opposite direction. Close one, that. Arriving to Siam Dasada, we realise:
a) we’ve snagged an absolute steal, and
b) we may be the only guests at the lodge
We’re paying around £35 per room, per night, and the accommodation is palatial. Properly deluxe. We pop to the lodge restaurant to grab a light lunch, as neither of us has eaten today. Felix orders ‘shrimp filled doughnuts’ which turn out to be nothing of the sort, but which are delicious, breaded Thai fishcakes. I have a very decent prawn Phad Thai. I ask for a glass of wine, and am brought the bottle, and a wine glass. I ask for a glass of wine. The wine glasss is taken away, and a champagne glass brought in its place. It takes a little while, but ultimately it transpires that they don’t sell wine by the glass. To be fair, with this level of occupancy, they’d risk a lot of wine wastage, and nobody needs that kind of negativity in their life. I dive into the wine, which is a decent Chilean Chardonnay. Felix is heading out for a bike ride around the lodge, and I’m gonna read for a bit. I’m half hoping there might be a snooze lurking…
22:30
There WAS a snooze lurking. I have maybe 1.5 hours of afternoon delight. We head out at 19:30 in search of a bar a short walkaway called Bamboo Bar. It is closed. Several hundred metres down the road is Tipsy Bar. We decide to go and at least take a look. Success! It’s open. There’s a duo setting up on the live music stage, there’s an orange statue of the Incredible Hulk in the garden, and they have wine. We settle in.
We have some food - a mountain of seafood fried rice for Felix, along with some fried squid eggs, and a seafood omelette with crispy pork rice for me. Both v tasty. Vicki and I tried squid eggs back in April, and did NOT enjoy them. These are a marked improvement. I think the ones we had were simply boiled. These are sliced, breaded and deep fried. If you didn’t tell me otherwise, I’d think they were pieces of calamari. Once again, I ask for a glass of wine. Once again, this proves problematic. I’ve still got 1/2 bottle of my lunchtime Chardonnay in my room, and it looks like it’s gonna be joined by half a bottle of red wine in a couple of hours. I comment to Felix that I feel al little like we’re at the only eatin house in the Bayou. There’s a closeness in air, a deafening chorus of cicadas, and real sense that we’re a million miles from the nearest population centre.
We finish eating, as:
a) the band strikes up, and
b) a huge rainstorm kicks off
The rainstorm does drown out the sound of the music, and this is no terrible thing. The rain intensifies, until it’s as heavy as any rain I’ve ever seen. The wind direction changes slightly, so that a light drizzle is being blown into the tin roof under which we’re sitting. It’s not unpleasant. It’s probably the coolest I’ve felt since we arrived. The rain continues, unabated. If it’s even possible, it gets heavier. Then the lightning starts. It’s a good few miles away from us initially, and manifests as thick sheets of lightning across the clouded sky. It gradually gets closer to us though, until vivid forks crack very close by to us. Most everyone else that was sitting outside has moved indoors to stay dry. Not us though - this is way too much fun to watch. Whilst gazing into the eye of the storm, we realise just how batshit crazy the garden ornaments are. Obviously, we’ve got our friend orange Hulk. There’s a Spiderman hanging from the ceiling as well. A variety of Harley-Davidson signs around the place, a red UK style telephone box, and a cartoon mouse. Obviously.
After an hour, the rain starts to lighten. We consider making a run for it. We’re probably a 10-12 minute walk from our room. Neither of us has an issue getting soaked, but equally - neither of us particularly wants to get struck by lightning. We wait for perhaps another 30 minutes, The lightning strikes feel a little less intense, and little less frequent. We call for the bill.
Now - we’re slightly running out of cash. I brought about 20,000 Baht in cash with me, and Felix took out 10,000 when we arrived. We’ve both significantly underspent against our budget over the past week, so haven’t needed to re-up with cash just yet. We’re in Thailand for 2 more days, and have been hoping not to have to visit an ATM before we make it to the Cambodia border. The Bamboo bar that we’d hoped to go to earlier accepts credit cards. The Tipsy Bar, where we’re currently being presented with a bill, does not. It’s fine - we might just be a bit tight for cash when we jump on the train on Saturday to head for Poi Pet… We’ve both got some US Dollars to get us started once we get into Cambodia.
We make our move. Felix strips off his t-shirt. I do not. The rain - which in the UK would constitute heavy rain, but over here is nowt but a light shower, is quite pleasant. As we march down the road, a bolt of lightning cleaves the sky. We’re surrounded by the growling call of bullfrogs. It’s pretty other worldly. We see a few more vivid lightning strikes on the walk back, and we’re both ducking instinctively, as though this is somehow going to improve our chances of not being struck by it. I reason that I’m walking next to a 25 foot tall lightning conductor, so should be ok. Back at the lodge, huge puddles have appeared where there were none when we left. I’m wet through, but not as wet to the bone as was possible. We’re going to try and get some VPN/screen cast action going to watch the England vs Denmark game. Wish us luck….Read more
Day 8 - What? M’hat! Hat!
June 19, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
17:30
We both sleep the sleep of the just. It’s the first time I’ve slept well without chemical assistance on this trip, and I wake up with a real spring. I was conscious of feeling a little chilly overnight. Felix reports that he had to play around with his A/C unit to find the Goldilocks point of perfection. We’re both foregoing breakfast this morning, and keen to get out and about. We’re starting at Wat Mahathat, one of the foremost temple complexes in Ayutthaya. It’s only 600m down the road, but we’re both feeling the heat by the time we get there. As early as 11:00, the heat index is already showing 43C. It’s gonna be a melter.
The temple complex is fascinating. It was largely destroyed during the second Burmese / Siamese war in 1767, yet still we can sense the size and scale of this Buddhist monument. We both find ourselves wondering what it would have been like before its razing - how would it have sounded? What would we have smelt? How many people would there have been? We also find ourselves discussing the nature of religion. Both of us have largely rejected our Christian upbringings, and agree that Buddhism is probably the closest thing to an organised religion that either of us could tolerate. I guess there’s something about living a life that values all around you, that encourages constant self-reflection in the search for enlightenment, that doesn’t offer a get-out-of-jail card for the acknowledgement of sin - all of these seem like a good thing. It’s immaterial - neither of us is in the market.
We stop in at a very air-conditioned café for a brief sharpener, and hatch a plan to seek shelter for our next cultural pit-stop. We head for the Chao Sam Phraya National Museum, a collection of artefacts and relics from the countless temples that once stood around Ayutthaya. It’s a 20 minute walk which, in hindsight, was perhaps a little foolhardy. We’re constantly scuttling between shady areas to keep out of the sun’s rays. Arriving, we walk into a high-ceilinged atrium that smacks of conditioned air. It’s a joy.
The museum itself is a great. The exhibits are largely focused on gold, and the many uses during the Siamese kingdom age. There are some examples of jewellery, and some somewhat more extravagant uses - including a gold whisk, a crown made from gold thread, and a gold plated umbrella. Very glam. Felix briefly befriends a group of American women, then runs away. It’s a pleasant diversion for an hour or so.
It’s 13:00, and we’re both getting peckish. We head to the other side of Ayutthaya old town, to the riverside, and to a lovely little restaurant by the water’s edge. We’re the only guests there, and are warmly welcomed. Felix orders some soft-shell crab in black pepper, and I have some freshwater prawns with a herb sauce. Both are spectacular. The very best of shellfish, treated simply. Lip-smackingly good.
We head off in search of the main market of Ayutthaya, and find a place that’s all but deserted. Later investigation reveals that it starts early (5am) and finishes early (about ten minutes before we arrived). We grab a cab to the Japanese village instead. Ayutthaya was something of a multi-cultural hub from the 16th century onwards, attracting traders from across Europe and Asia. There are museums for several of these, including Holland, Portugal, and the one we’ve come to - Japan. There’s a picturesque garden by the riverside, with some pretty Japanese influences. There’s also a ‘study centre’ which is inside, and therefore brilliant. As we’re about to leave the study centre, we’re ushered into a little cinema theatre to watch a quick (we think?) film about this period of time. It reminds me of the occasional ‘educational’ video we’d watch at school in a history or geography class. It’s coming up on 16:00, and we’re both steaming. We agree to repair to our guesthouse for a couple of hours chill time before heading out later.
23:00
We head out at 19:30, aiming for the night market - which is closed, though we’re not sure why. We head for a street side restaurant a few hundred metres down the street, which specialises in boat noodles - a delicacy of this region - and that is also closed. We start to wonder whether Wednesday is the new Sunday. There’s a street food market on the road in front of us, which is NOT closed. We spot some very tasty looking, some frankly weird looking food, and some stuff that we’re not 100% sure counts as food. There’s a stall selling chicken - all of it. Chicken ass anyone? We buy a sausage each, and it is DELICIOUS. Pork, minced with lemongrass, coriander, chilli and some other shiz.
We carry on up the road, which it transpires is called Bang Ian, and stop in at a bar called Khao San. It reminds me instantly (and obviously) of the Khao San road in Bangkok. In fairness, I suspect that’s what they were aiming for… There’s a strong and pleasant smell of Thai weed in the air, and a frankly astonishing playlist on their TV. We hear Eminem, Green Day, Nirvana, Van Halen, Lil Jon in the space of 20 minutes. We play a few games of Connect 4.
While we’ve been in Khao San, there’s been a rain storm. A big one. We were only in there about 40 minutes, but there are huge puddles of muddy water all over the streets. I’m more than a little disappointed I wore my flip-flops, as I’m sliding all over them. We decide to head for a bowl of noodles, only to find the place no longer serves noodles. Strange. The power of Google Maps takes us instead to a really good Vietnamese place. Felix orders something the likes of which I’ve never experienced. We *think* it’s some rice noodle wrappers stuffed with some prawns, but couldn’t swear to it. Banging though. I have some grilled pork with sticky rice, and we share some Summer rolls. All really good, and a more than decent feed for less than a tenner = WINNING. Time’s getting on. We head back to our guesthouse via a 7/11 to grab some supplies for our journey up to Khao Yai tomorrow. The heat dictated that we leave the A/C on in our rooms when we went out, and we’re both very pleased to have made that decision when we arrive back…Read more
Day 7 - Training day
June 18, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
11:00
I sleep through the night (good) but am awake a little before 06:00 (bad). It’s all progress in the right direction, but I suspect I’ll feel more than a touch jaded later. Our train today is scheduled to take a little over 9 hours, but I have no clue whether Thai trains are likely to run to time. Departure time from Chiang Mai is 08:50, where the train originates, so we’re aiming to be there for 08:30. I’m packed in decent time, and ping Felix to check his progress. I’m a little alarmed when I receive no response. I don’t *think* he’s a candidate for sleeping in / accidentally snoozing alarm etc etc. I knock on his door as I pad downstairs, and am reassured when it sounds like he’s actually - you know, up and about.
At the station, we grab supplies for the journey. I believe we’ll get some food and refreshments served onboard the train, but have been warned not to rely on these. Boarding the train, there’s a blast of chilled air. There are non A/C trains that run up and down the same line, so it’s gratifying to know we’ll be kept cool along the journey. We find our seats. They look comfy enough, and offer enough legroom even for the 12 foot tall Felix. Behind us, an American couple are having what sounds like a bit of a domestic. They also don’t sound best pleased at the comfort of their seats. I’m not 100% sure what they expected - the tickets cost £8 for a 9 hour journey over a 420 mile distance.
The train is a touch late leaving, but soon enough we’re under way. A few minutes later, we’re clear of the Chiang Mai urban sprawl, and out into a desperately verdant countryside. I sit and watch the world go by. I spend an hour reading about Ayutthaya, our destination today, and plotting places to go, stuff to eat and the like. Our guesthouse is bang in the centre of the old town, and spitting distance from many of the temples and sights we want to visit. It’s also on the same block as some great sounding restaurants.
Ayutthaya is an ancient city, though exactly how ancient is up for grabs. Its official founding date is 1351 AD, but there’s some evidence to suggest it was actually founded as early as the late 13th century. The old city is based on an island formed at the conjoining of the Chao Phraya and Pa Sek rivers. For 4 centuries, it was the capital of the Siam kingdom, until it was destroyed in 1767, during the second Burmese/Siamese war, as a direct result of which, the capital seat of Siam was transferred to Bangkok, where it remains to this day. Many of the ancient sites in Ayutthaya have been repaired and renovated, though some remain ruins. It was granted UNESCO World Heritage Site status in 1991. It promises to be an eye-opening and fascinating insight into ancient Thai history, and the Buddhist religion…
15:10
We’ve been moving very slowly for the past 3 hours, slowing winding our way through rural idylls. We’ve stopped a few times, but in towns that seem pretty slow and sleepy. We’re out of the hills now (or FOR now, at any rate…) and passing rice paddy after rice paddy. I’ve spent I don’t know how long gazing aimlessly out of the train window, watching the world go by. It’s occasionally made me quite soporific, but not quite sleepy enough to attempt a nap. The carriage is almost always full - as many leaving the train as boarding. We pass through Phitsanulok, what looks to be a sizeable city right in the heart of central Thailand. I’d like to come back to this part of Thailand - the North and central regions. It’s an incredibly different proposition to the crazy pace of the islands in the South, and one to which I find myself drawn. I’d happily combine it with a trip into Myanmar, which is a country that I find intriguing and saddening in equal measures. I’d probably need a couple of months to do the full lot justice though…
17:48
Our progress has stalled. I wondered if we were perhaps falling a little behind schedule. We end up stationary at Pak Nam Pho for about 45 minutes. When questioned, the train crew reckon we’re running around an hour behind schedule. It’s not disastrous by any means, but it will mean a fairly late arrival into Ayutthaya. On the up side, our train food is brought to us - a tasty Pad Gra Pow with pork. There’s no ‘little bit/tourist spicy’ here. We get the full beans Thai version that’s served to everyone, and it’s hot. We’re both more than hungry, so we devour it, but the heat lingers for some time after we’ve finished. Alarmingly, it was served with a little sachet of chilli oil with some sliced orange chillies in it. Neither of us thought to add it, which is probably for the best. We pass through some torrential downpours. In the chilly, air-conditioned carriage, you could almost imagine it’s cold outside. A brief visit to the toilet (in the corridor between carriages - NOT air-conditioned) reminds me that it’s hot and sticky…
22:30
We end up pulling in to Ayutthaya station at 19:30, about 90 minutes late. It’s not the worst of delays, and we’ve at least been keep frosty en route. We jump in a cab and head to our guesthouse, which transpires to be wooden bungalows, very much in the ‘cabin the woods’ style. Murders abound, no doubt. It’s properly hot, and we both crank up the A/C units in our rooms in an attempt to cool down.
We determine to head out for a wander. There’s actually a lovely, cooling breeze out on the street. We can see hints of the ancient temples of Ayutthaya in the distance as we walk, but we’re gonna check those out tomorrow. We pitch up at a cool bar called Coffee House. There’s a band warming up, but the beer is cold. Apparently so is Felix’s Sprite. We have some snacks, and talk guitars, travel plans, thrash metal - your usual sort of dinner table convo. The band strikes up. We were 50/50 whether they’d be murdering western covers, or singing more local material - maybe even their own? It transpires they’re covering the gamut of Thai pop. Several of the service team are wandering around singing along.
Part of me could happily settle in here for the duration. More of me is knackered after a not great night’s sleep, and a looooong day travelling. Felix and I decide to call it a night…Read more
Day 6 - Coming down the mountain...
June 17, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 26 °C
08:00
ZOPICLONE! ZOPICLONE! ZOPICLONE!
12:00
It feels really steamy this morning, and that the clouds are heavy with rain. Felix and I grab some breakfast around 09:00, and get packed up for our 11:00 bus. The walk up to the bus stop is sticky. As we arrive at the bus station, it’s just starting to rain. The bus sets off in decent time, and at quite a clip. We briefly discuss to which famous racing driver we’ll compare our bus driver. Felix initially thinks Ayrton Senna, but then hits on the right answer - Ken Block (RIP). We hoon round some pretty tight corners. I can remember coming up this way a few days ago, and it’s very fair to say our speed was less than half what we’re doing now. Admittedly, there’s an uphill/downhill situation to factor in, but still…
We’re both a little sad to be leaving Pai. It’s been the perfect 0kicking off point for our trip. We both feel like we’ve got jet-lag pretty much licked, and having such a peaceful place with such a slow pace of life has doubtless helped us along. It’s a very easy place to spend time, with some very cool bars and restaurants to visit. There’s more of the surrounding countryside to explore - for sure, we that’ll have to wait for next time. If you’re ever planning to be in Northern Thailand, I can’t recommend highly enough that you spend some time in and around Pai. It’s on my list of places to come back to - 100%.
We’ve a quick overnight in Chiang Mai before a long train day tomorrow. I’ve treated us to a hotel with a pool, as Felix is something of a water-baby. I don’t know that we’ll wanna spend a ton of time exploring Chiang Mai later today, so an afternoon by the pool might be in order.
17:00
Our driver is nuts. We’ve gone from ‘enterprising - just trying to get his passengers there in decent time’ to ‘why are you overtaking 3 cars and a lorry on a blind corner, dude?’ We come to a red light at one point. Our intrepid driver cuts across two lanes of traffic, pulls sort of a u-turn, and rejoins the carriageway on the other side of the lights, which saves us all of 30 seconds. Maybe he’s under the influence…
As we arrive back in to Chiang Mai, the heavens open - some seriously fat rain. Our hotel’s lovely. Very boujee. The décor wouldn’t be out of place in a New York loft apartment. Felix heads for a rain-soaked swim, and I decide on a little wander around the local neighbourhood. I pitch up at a bar that I think’s attached to a hotel, and have a pretty damn good glass of white wine. I’m reminded of Vicki and my experience a few months ago, where the quality of wine was, well - variable. As a result, I have 3. Heading back to the hotel, I JUST manage to miss getting absolutely pooned on by the latest rain storm. Quick shower, and we’ll head out for an evening wander around this part of Chiang Mai.
22:30
The rain seems to have abated, but the air is thick. We pitch up at a pool / sports / craft beer bar. the beer’s great, but by the power of Grayskull, it’s expensive. I’ve very quickly got used to paying £1 for a Chang. A 400ml pour of an admittedly lovely Hazy IPA is £6. We play a few racks of pool. I played a lot in my yoof, but until the game Felix and I played a couple of days ago, I think it’s probably been 20 years. I’m rusty beyond belief. Very, VERY gradually, my game comes back.
By 19:00, we’re both peckish, and head for Coconut Shell, a restaurant I’ve heard is great, and also mainly visited by locals. We order a bunch of things - some stir-fried Morning Glory, some Chiang Mai sausage, a Pad See Ew, and a Gaeng Hang Lay curry - something I’ve not heard of before, but which I’ll be cooking at home. It’s a deeply spiced, chilli hot pork curry, spiked with aromatics. It is, I think, the closest Thai equivalent to a Beef Rendang curry. We both agree it’s the best meal we’ve had on our trip so far. Guess what - less than a tenner.
From here, it’s a short walk down to a street renowned for having more than a couple of backpacker bars. We stop in at one, and play a fairly comical game of beer-pong. Comical, because:
Felix doesn’t drink, so…. And
It take us a LONG time to complete this pretty simple game
The bars are starting to get a touch busier, but it’s still pretty quiet. We’ve got an early start tomorrow, and a looooong day of travel, so agree we’re probs best off having an early night.Read more
Day 5 - Locating the off-switch
June 16, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
13:45
Getting a touch bored of this now. I’m wide awake just after 05:00, and zero luck trying to get back to sleep. The upside, if there is one, is that I’ve woken later with jet-lag than the previous few nights, so am progressing. I completely forgot to take a Zopiclone last night, so will do my damnedest to remember tonight.
I get up around 07:00, make a coffee, and head for my hammock. I’m enjoying the gentle swing while I read my book, when I realise I’m being set upon by a million mossies. The riverside location of Pai Loess is beautiful and peaceful, but it does come with drawbacks…
I’ve not eaten since our cookery class yesterday afternoon, and by 09:00, am properly peckish. I ping Felix to see if he’s up and about, and give him a generous 10 minutes to reply, before heading to grab something to eat. While I’m eating, I’m in touch with a car rental place just outside Pai. I figure this might be the most convenient and cheapest way for us to get around today. The company will happily drop the car over to us, but it needs to be before midday. As 11:00 approaches, I’ve still not seen nor heard from Felix, so tell the car rental dude that we’ll pass. Finally, he emerges. I’d begun to wonder whether he’d headed back out last night in search of rave based fun, and thus had a late one. Nah. It transpires he’s just had a REALLY good sleep. This irks me, given the paucity of my own. I’m heading back to bed to try and catch up a bit, so we agree to head out around 14:00.
22:30
We hire a driver to take us to the hot springs, a short drive North of Pai. It’s a Song-Thaew. For those that don’t remember / haven’t read my April Thailand blog, this is a pick-up truck, with a metal structure in the flatbed to accommodate passengers. There are no seatbelts. The seats are a pretty basic bench. It’s highly advised to hang on tight - particularly up in the mountains, where there are countless twisty turns. Felix and I are engrossed in conversation, so much so that we kind of miss that we’ve been driven into the middle of a rainforest. We’re surrounded by thick forest, huge green bushes, and can hear the sound of running water not far from where our driver has parked.
The springs themselves are a fab way to locate the off-switch. I’ve seen pictures of the springs completely rammed during the peak season, but there are perhaps 10 people in the pools when we arrive. There are several hot springs in the area surrounding Pai, but this one (Sai Ngam) is said to possess the clearest water, the prettiest surrounding, and the least sulphuric smell. It’s also at a consistent temperature - a pleasantly warm 40C. Some of the others are as hot as 85C, and visitors have the option of boiling an egg in the steaming pools. Neither of us has brought appropriate water shoes, so dance the dance of ‘ooh-aah’ as we walk to the pool across a rocky surface. Sliding into the water, it’s a blissful sensation. I don’t know that these particular springs are meant to have any healing properties, but I’ll pretend that they do. We spend time chatting, watching dragonflies, taking in the peaceful environs. There’s a group of western travellers - I suspected Spanish, but Felix thinks Italian - who briefly crank up a bluetooth speaker. Thankfully, they’re in the process of leaving, so it only interrupts our peace for a brief moment. We stay in the pool until pruned, exit to more of the ‘ooh-aah’ dance, dry and dress. I’m mindful to spend a little more time watching the world go by on the drive back to Pai, and am glad I did so. It’s a painfully pretty part of the world. We’re in a valley surrounded by peaks which are shrouded in cloud, and through which crepuscular sun rays are breaking…
Back in Pai, Felix is feeling ready for a nap, and I’m looking forward to chilling for a couple of hours with my book. We head out around 18:30, only to find the restaurant we’re aiming for is unexpectedly closed today. We head a little further down the road to the Gorilla Café. I have my first Pad Kra Pao - a stir-fry of minced pork, Thai basil and red chilli, simply served with steamed rice and a fried egg. It’s awesome. Hot and sour, with (I think?) some sweet soy sauce to temper the heat and bite. Felix opts for some tempura chicken and some spring rolls. I think the spring rolls he made freshly yesterday were a little better. Our dinner bill is comfortably under a tenner.
Felix has heard about a fire show happening tonight at a bar a little walk out of Pai city centre. We head in that direction after we’ve eaten, walking along a large-ish road, then a smaller road, then an earthen track between agricultural fields. I can feel the mossies landing on me while we walk, despite bathing myself in bug spray before we left. Arriving at Paradise Bar, we’re both immediately struck by how stereotypical it is of backpacker tropes. They sell weed and mushrooms at the bar, there’s a guy with an acoustic guitar running an open mic session when we arrive, there are man-buns everywhere… Felix suggests this is where backpackers come to get trained, and this very much tickles me. We can see some of the ‘Circus’ performers warming up before the live show. For the last couple of songs for the open mic, a guy accompanies with some beat-boxing. It is, let’s be clear, not good. He then starts up a little solo beat-box session, the highlight of which is stopping for a second in the middle of his ‘song,’ and exclaiming, “I’m losing my breath!”
We watch the first few performers of the fire show, and honestly - they’re a lot better than I’d perhaps assumed they might be. There’s definitely a grace of movement associated with the art form. With the right musical backing, it’s actually pretty bewitching. I’m pretty jaded though, so hit the eject button a little after 21:00. We walk back to town - around 15 minutes, and I leave Felix in the centre of town while I head back to Pai Loess. He’s meeting an old friend of his, who is incredibly randomly also in Pai at the moment. He (Ben) has been travelling for a while, and it’s pure kismet that their paths are crossing here. Back at my bungalow, I crack a beer, journal for a while, read for a bit.
DON’T FORGET YOUR ZOPICLONE.Read more
Day 4 - Food and fighting
June 15, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
05:00
I wake up at 03:00. Bah humbug. Once again, I’m instantly awake and clear-headed. I try to sleep for 30 minutes, but even I’m sceptical. I give up, and read for a while, in the hope this will tire my eyes again. My reading is briefly interrupted by a somewhat urgent dash to the latrine. I don’t think it’s anything sinister - just my stomach recovering from the long journey out here, and likely acclimatising to new environment / food etc etc. I’m heartened when a further hour’s reading doesn’t require any additional latrine based dashes. Feeling fairly tired again. Hoping I can grab a few more hours…
10:30
Sleep never came. At 07:00, I give up trying. I grumpily make a coffee, and make for my balcony. The day feels sweaty. It feels like it’s rained a lot overnight. The verdant leaves of the Pai Loess garden are heavy with water. Felix is awake a little before 08:00, and we compare sleeping notes. He struggled to get off to sleep last night, but has at least slept through till now. We grab some breakfast at our resort, and make something approaching a plan. We’re both reluctant to bike ride today, so decide an afternoon cooking class is in order. I find a suitable option, negotiate starting time / dishes we’ll cook, and agree to pop in this morning to pay for the lesson.
Payment sorted, we head off on a meander around Pai. It’s a little after 09:00, and the town feels like it partied too hard last night, and is struggling to wake up. There are very few travellers up and about at this time on a Saturday. Felix and I both heard revelry going on near us last night. He - some sort of rave based activity, and I, a rather bizarre post-punk rockabilly sort of band. Reading that back, I do wonder whether I dreamt it, but I’m pretty sure not. We stop to chat to a few tour operators, to try and make plans for tomorrow, to get out of town to see some of the beautiful scenery surrounding Pai. The sun is trying to shine. Even at 10:00 it’s feeling pretty hot. We see a sign for some Muay Thai boxing this evening, and decide this will probably make for some decent entertainment. Felix heads off for a swim, while I head back to Pai Loess to try and catch up on some zizz.
19:15
Success! I manage a good 3 hours, waking at 14:00 ahead of our 15:00 cooking class. I feel a LOT better for it. Quick shower, and we’re heading off to Saveoi. We’re the only people in our class, which is great. The set up is awesome - a proper garden kitchen behind their restaurant. We’ve each selected two dishes to cook - spring rolls and a Paneang curry for Felix, and a glass noodle salad and stir-fried chicken noodles for me. We start with the noodle salad / spring rolls. Our teacher, Mwanee (sp?) is a patient and insightful coach. She talks us through some of the basics of Thai cookery - ingredients, styles, flavourings. Our ingredients are carefully laid out in front of us, and we’re walked through each stage. The resulting food is, and I’m not kidding here, tremendous. I ate similar salads a bunch of times back in April, and I’m delighted now to know how to recreate them at home. Felix’s spring rolls are properly excellent. There’s more technique in his dish, and I’m more than impressed at the quality of what he creates. We sit to scarf these down, and move onto our second dishes.
There’s a brief hiatus as we come to realise Paneang curry heavily features peanuts, to which Felix has a slight intolerance. Plans are adapted to a yellow curry instead, and all is well with the world once again. There’s some quite intense manual labour going in to making his yellow curry paste. I realise I’m being less than sympathetic towards his efforts. I’m hopeful my stir-fried noodles are in the same vein as those Vicki and I tried on our street food tour of Bangkok. The ingredients certainly seem to be pointing in that direction… The dish is simple to cook, though I’m surprised at the use of water at a couple of stages of the cooking. There’s also a store-bought ‘XO’ sauce used at the end of cooking, about which I need to learn more as it seems critical to the colour, texture and flavour of the dish. Felix has done great things with his curry - it smells wonderfully aromatic and enticing. Again, we sit to eat - and we’re both more than a little pleased with ourselves. As we eat, Mwanee brings us a cookbook, containing the recipes we’ve cooked today, as well as others that are available to cook. I’ll treasure it.
Food and heat combine to leave Felix feeling nap-destined. We head back to Pai Loess, and agree to touch base a little later, before the boxing starts at 20:00. I read for a while but can feel my eyes growing heavy, so lay my head down - you know, just in case there’s some nap to be had. It transpires there is. I’m conscious that I’m doing very well catching up on sleep through the day, but it would be far preferable to manage a full night’s sleep at some point. I’ve brought some Zopiclone with me. Reckon I’ll treat myself to one tonight, to see if I can course correct a little…
23:50
We’re up and out around 19:30. We stop at a cool little bar called Vinyl Sky - a rooftop cocktail joint. Tunes are good, chat is awesome, cocktail is brilliant. I have something called a Flying Moon, which is basically a vodka martini with some lychee liqueur added to it. While chatting, we dissect the nature of monogamy, views on friendship, the challenges of parenthood - despite neither of us being a parent.
We head further up the road, to the Muay Thai boxing promotion. The big top is constructed with bamboo, and has some more than avant-garde décor. The fighting is visceral. I think this is the first live pugilism event I’ve attended. When I use the word pugilism, Felix laughs, but then acknowledges that despite sounding like I’m from the 19th century, it’s the right word. The bouts are well matched. We see at least one, and possibly two bones broken. The rituals when the fighters enter the ring, which are somewhat spiritual in nature, are entrancing. Neither Felix nor I are particularly familiar with the rules and regulations of Muay Thai. Yes - kicking is encouraged; elbows are a must. We’re both unsure about the more judo-oriented elements we witness, but they’re cheered by the crowd, and seem to be viewed well by the judges. We’re one row behind ringside, and the view of the ring is primal. Despite not necessarily feeling 100% comfortable with some of the beatings that are happening, I enjoy the evening more than I maybe thought I would. It’s £8 for 4 hours of brilliant entertainment.
The bouts finish about 23:30. We think briefly about grabbing some street food, but are both pretty jaded. We’ve got vague plans for tomorrow, so agree to meet for breakfast to thrash out what Sunday will entail…Read more
Day 3 - Mountain bound
June 14, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
08:30
Well, that didn’t go quite as planned. I get off into a deep, dream filled sleep almost immediately, but wake at 01:30 as clear as a bell. I try for maybe an hour to get back off, with no luck. This is eerily similar to my first couple of nights in Bangkok in April - a mild bit of jet-lag, but jet-lag nonetheless. Giving up at 02:30, I occupy my time with some reading, some journal writing. I feel properly wide awake. Around 04:30, I start to feel a bit yawny, and my eyes are gaining weight. I try to sleep, and have some success. I’m a bit wakey, but sleep intermittently until my alarm goes off at 08:00. Not the best night’s sleep, but it’ll do for now. We’ll be in Pai by early afternoon, and a nap feels very likely to be in my future. Perhaps I’ll try for less than 5 hours this time…
12:09
We’re about half way to Pai. It transpires Felix has had a not dissimilar jet-laggy type experience, being wide awake for a few hours around midnight. He asks me whether I got bitten last night. I confidently state that I was not. This will come back to (pardon the pun) bite me. Picking up the bus is a more straightforward task than I’d feared / assumed. A 10 min cab ride drops us at the bus station, and a couple of strategically placed questions send us in the right direction of the company with whom we’re travelling. There’s a little confusion when we’re directed to ac couple of different minivans, but these idiosyncrasies are worked out quickly enough. Our backpacks are loaded onto the roof rack and covered with a tarpaulin. This is rainy season, don’t forget. We depart pretty much bang on time at 10:30, and head North.
The roads out of Chiang Mai are pretty bland - 2 lane highways with businesses coating the roadsides. The urban sprawl of Chiang Mai is much greater than I’d guessed. Fully 30 minutes after we leave the bus station, we’re still in the outer suburbs. Seeing the eminently walkable old town last night, I’d assumed a much smaller urban footprint. Soon enough, we’re out into the rural stretches, running up towards the hills. Felix and I natter, as a strangely uniform countryside passes by. That’s not to say it’s dull to look at - but simply that there’s a very definite character to it, that doesn’t seem to change for a good 40 minutes. We then start to climb, heading deeper and deeper into hill country. Our driver is an enthusiastic sort, and takes every fleeting opportunity to overtake slower vehicles, of which there are many. I’ve long since given up finding these manoeuvres scary or uncomfortable. The roads gradually narrow, and become very windy. Felix and I are sat at the back of the bus, and whilst I wouldn’t say we’re being thrown around, there are definitely some g-forces pushing us from side to side.
About 90 minutes into our journey, which promises to be somewhere between 2.5 and 4.5 hours depending who you listen to (though we don’t know why the huge variance), we stop at what seems to pass for a service station in the backwaters of northern Thailand. There’s an enterprising chap charging 3 THB for a visit to the toilet, and a further 5 THB if you require toilet paper. Felix finds a food stall selling baked ginger, which is our new favourite thing. In baking the ginger root, the fiery flavour is dampened, and a sweetness replaces it. The texture is changed as well, from a fibrous mess, to a firm, jelly like texture. They’re the best kind of gummies for grown-ups. Legs stretched, we pile back into the bus to continue onwards to Pai.
23:00
We drive through some heavy-ish rain on the last hour of our journey to Pai. Felix is feeling a little travel sick, so takes a nap for the last leg of the journey. Arriving into Pai, the temperature is high, and it’s steamy. Our guest house is a short walk away, so we decide to sweat it out. Pai is not big - the permanent population is somewhere around 3,000. I suspect, in peak season, the transient population is several times that. We’re here in low season, and I still suspect travellers outnumber locals. Despite this, the town doesn’t feel at all hectic or busy. The 5 minute walk to the river we must cross take us past countless bars, restaurants, street food stalls.
Arriving at the riverside, we discover the bamboo bridge has been washed away - when, we’re not entirely sure. There’s another bamboo bridge a few minutes walk to the North of us, so we head back up in that direction. The bridge is hilarious. I’m sure it’s perfectly stable, but walking across it is a little like walking across a bouncy castle. Could be fun in the dark…
We’re staying at Pai Loess Resort, right on the riverbank. It’s sleepy, in all the good ways. We’re greeted by the elderly, female owner, who is hilariously also called Tim. She shows us to our bungalows, which are great. Simple, but comfortable, clean etc etc. There’s a power outage when we arrive, but we’re assured the electricity should power back up within an hour. I’m aiming for a nap, but I’m fairly sure it’s/I’m too sticky to sleep. I have a quick cold shower to cool down, and lie down. Sleep is slow in coming. I’m just about to give up, when the power clicks back on, and the A/C unit purrs into life. The room cools quickly, and I’m soon in the land of snooze.
I manage a couple of hours. I don’t want to oversleep this afternoon only to struggle later, so this feels like a reasonable approach. It’s rained while I’ve been sleeping, but rather than contribute to the steamy atmosphere, it feels like it’s cleared the air a little. We head out, ostensibly in search of food. We’ve neither of us eaten much today. We stop in at a bar called Paizy where I introduce Felix to Manao soda (sans Vodka…), and where we play a calamitous game of pool. The rain’s come back in a pretty substantial way, so we bed in with another drink, in the hope it’ll quickly clear.
It doesn’t, so we head out in the persistent conditions, and aim for a restaurant a few mins walk down the road. Walking in warm rain is amongst my favourite things, so I’m happy getting soaked through. The restaurant is a tiny, family-run affair that’s said to serve some of the best noodles in Pai. Felix has a Tom Yum soup with prawns and rice, and I have a Pad See Ew - fried noodles with chicken. Both are banging. Our bill for dinner comes to £4.
Just near the bamboo bridge is a bar called The Jazz House which has some live music, towards which we head. Felix has decided to forego his socks, as they’re still soggy from the walk over to the restaurant, and quickly decides his t-shirt can do one too. I’m a little sceptical of his planned strategy of using his socks to dry himself before re-donning his t-shirt when we get to the bar. It’s a short walk, but we’re both substantially soggy on arrival. The sock strategy works better than I’d expected. The Jazz House is a properly esoteric little place. There’s a strong smell of weed in the air, some musicians warming up, and a hippy-ish American who looks to be in his 70s, who I suspect is the owner. We both order a Manao - loaded in my case - and settle down to listen to the live music show. The artist is talented. He’s playing an acoustic guitar with a pedal-board - used for loops and effects. He’s covering a wide range of styles - we hear some Arctic Monkeys, some Fleetwood Mac, some Oasis. I love watching these acoustic, solo, pedal-board performances. The best exponents of the art can really bring a song to life in a different way to the source material. I’ve seen an hour long show of KT Tunstall’s where she did nothing but, and it was sensational.
Time’s marching on, and I think we’re both still a touch jaded. We agree to review our plans for tomorrow once we’ve seen what the weather’s doing. We’re both interested in a cookery course while we’re here, which is a good shout if it’s pissing it down. If the weather gods shine on us, we’ll grab a couple of bikes, and head out of town to see some of the local countryside.
Felix heads straight back to the resort, whilst I pop to the 7/11 to grab a few room supplies. I’m delighted to find they have the locally (Thai) brewed Snowy beers in stock, including their Yuzu beer which I enjoyed so much back in April. Back in my room, I discover my earlier jubilance at not having been bitten was poorly placed. I have more than several / less than many itchy red welts on my legs. I send pictorial evidence of these to Vicki, who quite reasonably asks where my bug spray is. I quite reasonably reply that I know EXACTLY where it is - buried deep in my as yet unpacked backpack. I promise (to her, and to myself) to be more mindful of this for the remainder of the trip.
I read for a couple of hours, as my eyes grow steadily heavier. I’m hopeful a slightly later night combined with a MUCH shorter afternoon nap might let me sleep through the night…Read more
Day 2 - The other side of the world...
June 13, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
10:20
42C’s medical attention continues for some time. He's on the oxygen mask for two hours - until the oxygen runs out I assume. After this, he starts to make a substantial recovery. This is obviously great news - but it has rather upset the balance of the flight. Half the cabin crew have been tending to him, and the other half haven’t been able to get past him to carry out the meal service. As a result, we don’t get fed and watered for close to 2.5 hours after take-off. I quickly reason that I’m not going to get much/any sleep on this flight either. Happily, we’ve not much planned for later today, so I can have an afternoon nap of dramatic proportions. Ultimately, I manage a sketchy hour before landing. It’ll have to suffice.
We make up some time in flight, and land just about 15-20 minutes late - plenty of time to make my connecting flight. I’m knackered though. The domestic connection gates are (predictably) on the opposite end of the airport. It takes me about 20 minutes to walk over, but the terminal is well air-conditioned. I’m starting to feel a little feverish and achey though. I’m hopeful this is just fatigue after a hectic few days, rather than anything more sinister.
Arriving at gate A2, I can clearly see Felix. Of course I can - he’s 17 feet tall. It’s a slightly weird, but very cool to meet like this, on the other side of the world. He’s made a friend on his journey from Abu Dhabi into Thailand - a Masters student who’s spending 6 months in Chiang Mai working on a humanitarian aid project.
Our final flight is a puddle jump - maybe an hour in flight. We’re quickly boarded, and leave on time. I cannot WAIT to get into my bed when we get to Chiang Mai…
17:30
The flight to Chiang Mai is one of those that seems to reach its cruising altitude, only to start descent immediately. Chiang Mai is a pretty small, provincial airport. We land at 11:05, have our hold bags in hand by 11:25, and are on our way to our guesthouse by 11:35. We take the scenic route around the town in a pre-booked taxi. We’re staying at the edge of the old town, and I suspect there are lots of small alleys and one way streets. We get ourselves checked in, and I collapse onto my bed. I’m feeling really rather rubbish, and I’m desperately hoping that a good sleep will improve things.
I’m asleep in moments, having just about managed to set an alarm for 17:00. I wake a few times along the way, but basically sleep for a full 5 hours. Waking, I find Felix has done much the same. I’m still not feeling quite right, but I can feel a marked improvement for some decent sleep. I’ll grab some cold and flu remedy at a pharmacy this evening, and hope that that’ll keep things in order.
#prayfortim’ssnuffles
23:00
We meet at 18:00, and set off with no particular destination in mind. We’re neither of us particularly hungry just yet, so figure we’ll just walk for a while, and see where the evening takes us. Chiang Mai seems fairly sleepy. There are a few people out walking on the streets. Most of the people we see are on mopeds/bikes and in cars. We pass a spectacular temple with Chinese style sloped rooves, and a scary looking cat. We amble by a large square, which is being used as a skate park by some half-decent skate-boarders. The city is small enough to feel quite familiar quite quickly. We pause for a pitstop - beer for me, ginger ale for Felix. He stopped drinking a couple of years ago now. I suspect this will do positive things to the amount I would otherwise drink on this trip.
Thirst slaked, we walk on, via a street food market that smells great, but which is occupied by about three times as many stallholders as customers. A man on stage is doing terrible things to an acoustic guitar. We briefly try (and fail) to find a bar nearby called Wetherspoons.
Our wanderings have spiked our appetites, so we head to a restaurant called Link for some dinner. I award myself my first Som Tam (papaya salad) of this trip - its familiar flavours and textures a welcome friend. I also order some deep-fried prawns in a tamarind sauce, which are stellar. Felix has a soft-shell crab and mango dish, which he declares excellent. The bill is comfortably below £30 for both of us, which feels like decent value.
While we’re eating, night has fallen - quickly, as is the way this close to the equator. The temperature is still in the mid 20s, and humidity is high, but it’s a far cry from the oppressive heat of Bangkok in April. Hopefully a sign of things to come. We’re likely to see quite a lot of rain in the next couple of weeks, and this will help keep the heat manageable. Tomorrow, we’re heading up into the mountains, to Pai, which sounds/looks amazing, and a great place to put roots down for a few days. Our bus is at 10:30, so we decide to head back to the hotel and have (hopefully) a good night’s rest. On the way back to the hotel, we see a different side to Chiang Mai, walking down its alleys and back-routes. There is some beautiful street-art on display - some is tagging, others more graffiti based artwork, and others again more classical artwork. It’s everywhere. We’re going to come back via Chiang Mai in a few days before we head South, and I note to myself to learn more about this trend.
Back at our guesthouse, I read for a while, but my eyes are intensely heavy. I set an alarm, and hope for the best.Read more
Day 1 - I've been here before...
June 12, 2024, Arabian Sea ⋅ 🌙 29 °C
06:30
Morning! I’m scooting up the M23, comfortably ensconced in my cab. I’d initially planned to jump on the National Express coach, but the 05:45 departure felt just a touch brutal.
A full day of international travel awaits me. Gatwick via Dubai and Bangkok, and ending in Chiang Mai, in the North of Thailand. 4 weeks later, a flight back from Singapore. In between is kinda up for grabs, with very few fixed plans to speak of - a visit to a national park in Thailand, a flight from Phnom Penh to Singapore. Otherwise, it’s figure out along the way territory.
Oh, and I’m not travelling solo. My companion on this epic journey is not my beloved Vicki, but my cousin, Felix. Accurately, I think he’s my first cousin, once removed - but I’m not hugely up on the specifics of family trees, so ‘cousin’ will suffice. Like me, he lost his Dad last year, and like me, is taking some time out to figure out what’s next. He’s not done any far-flung travel, so I offered to let him join any of this year’s itinerary. I’m half hoping / half expecting that this trip will lead to a lifelong love of exploring the world. I’ll apologise to his bank manager later.
Having spent an amazing few weeks in central and southern Thailand in April, I’m excited to explore the North. I’m expecting a very different pace of life, a new food culture, a path less well worn. Cambodia - I’m not quite so sure what awaits. Speaking to friends who have travelled there, I suspect a simpler and starker way of life, and much more obvious poverty. Amazing things to see, for sure - but a perhaps more challenging culture with which to get to grips, and some really not that ancient history that I think will make me equal parts angry and sad. Singapore is a city I’ve wanted to visit for years, and with which I wanted to bookend this trip, as I’m ready for it to feel so incredibly different to the time in Thailand and Cambodia. Famously the cleanest and most organised city on the planet, the juxtaposition to rural Thailand, and various parts of Cambodia will be fun to experience.
Onwards chariot, to North Terminal!
08:15
There are quite a few more children here than:
a) I’d expected, and
b) is entirely necessary.
I find myself working out whereabouts we are in the school Summer term, and drawing the conclusion that most parents here are taking their kids out of school, and swallowing the resulting fine from the Local Education Authority, rather than paying the depressingly gargantuan price hikes of the Summer holidays. I grab some breakfast with a coffee, which feels terribly grown up. I’m soon lusting, however, after the peace and quiet (I know, it’s an airport, how dare I etc etc) of a bar with an over 18s policy.
08:45
I’ve been here before. I’m in Brewdog in Gatwick North terminal departures, readying myself for an Emirates flight. Two months ago, with Vicks, on part one of our trip to Thailand. Three months ago, on my tod, heading to Sri Lanka. I’m equal parts amazed and delighted that it doesn’t feel remotely stale. I have the same, raw excitement to be heading off on my travels that I did on each of those previous occasions.Vicki asked me yesterday if I think I’ll get bored of it by, I don’t know - this time next year, when I plan/hope to be going back to work. I really don’t think so. Every time I travel, every place I go, it just spurs me to go to more and new destinations. I’m fully expecting to catch a South American bug when we visit Brazil in October - and subsequently to want to journey to Chile, Colombia, Argentina, Peru. I’ve not even begun to explore Central America, and much of Africa remains unknown to me. I particularly want to spend some time in southern Africa that’s NOT South Africa - the 3 Ms of Madagascar, Mali and Mozambique feel like a good starting point, perhaps with a bit of Mauritius tacked on as well. And despite spending a chunk of time in South East Asia, I’ve got a tremendous itching to see Indonesia, the Philippines, Laos and Myanmar. And I really ought to get to China at some point. There’s definitely enough to keep me busy for a few years yet.
Brewdog have the over-18s policy I’m craving, and it’s a calm oasis amidst the buzzing throng of the departure lounge. I spend a delightful hour reading back some of my travel journals from this year’s trips. My sabbatical is flying past, but it feels an age ago that we were in New York over my birthday, in November last year. I’ve packed a huge amount into my break so far, and count myself incredibly fortunate to have a lot more fun and frolics yet to come.
Felix lives in York, along with much of my extended family. As a result, he’s flying from Manchester, via Abu Dhabi, and we’ll have some kind of family reunion in a bar in Bangkok Airport, before we jump on the same flight to Chiang Mai. It all feels very jet-set. Our flights leave at similar times. He’s at the airport in the departure lounge, currently deciding what useless tat to buy. We briefly discuss my stealing a rather attractive Brewdog pint glass, and creating an Insta account to record its travels around SE Asia.
I’m conscious there are things happening in the UK while I’m gone - some of which are a shame to miss, others - less so. I can’t pretend I’m not delighted to be missing the next three weeks of electioneering in the UK. The first couple of weeks have been more than enough for me. That said, I’ll definitely be setting an early alarm for the 5th July, to watch the results come in, and hopefully see a few Tories crying in school gymnasiums (gymnasia?).
I’m not too sad to be missing all but the final of the European Championships either. I’ve never been *that* fussed about international football. I remember being excited as respectively 8 and 12 for the ’86 and ’90 World Cups, but beyond that, I’ve never really got the fizz for big, international competitions. I’ll keep an eye from afar, but it’s reassuring to know I won’t feel like tracking down a bar in which to watch whatever England game at 03:00 local time.
I AM gutted to miss Glastonbury, and (as ever) a bunch of friends are going, and I know they’ll have the most amazing time. Vicki and I will try again for tickets next year. We both feel like we’ve got at least one Glasto left in us, and perhaps more… The headliner line-up this year doesn’t do that much for me, but I’ve said that at previous Glastos, and ended up having an incredible time exploring smaller stages and generally wombling around.
Most of all, I’ll miss my awesome Vicki. This is comfortably the longest we’ll ever have been apart. The ways of the modern world mean there are ample means to keep in touch, but it’s never the same as staring at her beautiful face…
20:43
My flight is called at 09:05. I hardly dawdle. I refill my water bottle, nip to the gents quickly, and head straight to the gate - where I’m chided as the gate is already closing? I can only assume the flight is pretty empty today, and so processing folks onto the plane has happened more quickly than usual. I’m on a 777-300, which whilst by no means a small plane, still flies about 50% of the passengers of an Emirates A380 leaving Gatwick. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I’m a little disappointed not to be on an A380 for this leg. Happily though, I arrive to my seat to find the other 2 in my row empty. The cabin crew guy tells me that there’s really no-one else to board, so I’ve got the row to myself = RESULT. Somebody in a row behind asks a flight attendant if they can have one of my seats, and are told no - it’s only for special people like me.
We push back a little early, and take off in good time. It’s tricky to rationalise the really pretty busy terminal earlier, with the pleasantly relaxed and quiet journey to Dubai. I guess the hordes of kids I encountered earlier are largely heading off on shorter trips - maybe across Europe?
I’m pretty jaded after an early start, and not a ton of sleep. I forego the lunch offering (but not the wine course), and try to grab some shut-eye. There is, unfortunately, a very screamy kid sitting across the aisle from me. He’s not crying, or even upset - he just likes to shout, a LOT. I manage to get an hour or so of scratchy sleep, but his screams pervade even my trustiest of noise cancelling cans. I try and catch his mum’s eye on a couple of occasions, but she’s having none of it.
I give up on the notion of sleep, and watch Dune 2. I figure that a 3 hour movie will take a large chunk out of the flight. I loved it in the cinema, and despite the scale not being quite as impressive on a 14” screen, it’s still a brilliant, brilliant film.
I wonder about having a glass of wine. My throat, though, is a little tight and sore. I’ve been a bit snuffly for a couple of days, and wonder if I’ve got a little bit of lurgy kicking around. I’ll grab some lozenges at Dubai Airport. We’re making good time, and the First Officer updates us to let us know we’re probably going to land a little early. Summertime has hit Dubai - gone are the pretty manic floods of a couple of months ago. The temperature is 39C, and weather shouldn’t delay us. You can never completely rule out a sandstorm in the UAE though…
We pull into our gate around 19:50 - fully 15 minutes ahead of schedule. I’m at a B gate, and departing from the A Concourse. Sadly, this denies me a return visit to the Hard Rock Café. I make do instead with a bar called Jack’s, and slide into a large glass of red wine. Haven’t seen a pharmacy yet, but I’ll deffo check that out in a mo.
Felix and I have a slightly surreal conversation, where he’s in an airport 50 miles down the road, and slightly bored. I treat myself to a further glass of Merlot, in the hope that it’ll help me kip for a good few hours on my next flight. Here’s hoping / fingers crossed / touch wood etc etc.
23:55
My flight’s a little delayed leaving Dubai. We board in good time, but there’s apparently an electrical issue. To fix it, the crew are going to (I’m not kidding) turn it off, and turn it back on again. It works, but we’ve missed our take off slot, and have to join the queue for another. We finally get underway around 23:00. Take off’s fine. I get up when the seatbelt sign is turned off to grab my cans, and find three cabin crew around a passenger in the row behind me. They’re taking his temperature, checking his blood pressure and so on. He’s clearly not in a good way. Without wanting to be *too* much of a twat about it, they’re also sitting right where I need to be to get into the overhead locker. I stand, waiting patiently - ultimately for upwards of 30 minutes. By this point, 42C (for that’s his seat…) has an oxygen mask. I begin to wonder whether we’re going to need to divert, or return to Dubai….Read more
Day 16 - Home. Reflections...
May 17, 2024 in England ⋅ ☁️ 19 °C
Day 16 - Home. Reflections…
15:30
The dinner service is blissfully rapid, and an hour into the flight, I’m donning my headphones and eye-mask to catch some snooze. I sleep for a shade under 5 hours, which is a decent result. I’m in a Premium Economy seat, and the extra legroom makes such a difference to my sleeping chances.
We’re actually early landing into Heathrow. The Atlantic jet stream has helped us along, without some of the crazy turbulence I’ve experienced in the past on flights back from the US. We pull up to a remote stand at 13:45. Getting through T3 is a breeze. There’s zero queue at passport control, and my bags are already on the carousel when I get into baggage reclaim. I meet Andy at 14:10, and we’re on the road moments later.
A few reflections on my time in the US…
1) I adore road trips. Some of the journey times would, I suspect, have been more than Vicki would have wanted to bear, but I was quite comfortable spending 7 hours in the car on some days. My decision largely to avoid interstates was a good one, and I got to see so much more of the states through which I travelled than I would have done on the freeway.
2) Southern hospitality is a thing. Everywhere I travelled in the South I was greeted with open arms - figuratively (and literally on one occasion). All of the folks I met were kind, warm-hearted and welcoming.
It’s very easy to eat well across the US. It’s easy to eat badly, if that’s your thing, but the quality of food in diners, bars and restaurants is brilliantly high.
3) Prices in those places vary massively. The cheapest diner breakfast (eggs, toast, hash browns) I ate was around $6. The most expensive around $16.
4) I am declaring a volte face on Florida. My preconceptions of the state have largely been based on theme parks vacation spots around Orlando, and the questionable politics of the state’s Governor. Miami is a brilliant city, and I can’t wait to go back. The Everglades are a stunningly beautiful ecosystem, the Keys are wonderful, and I even enjoyed the slightly hicksville ambience of Polk County…
5) At no point did I feel unsafe, I suspect in part because my route avoided major cities (Nashville and Miami aside).
6),Getting your Sativa and Indica vapes mixed up is not aa great idea.
That’s all for now. Thanks for reading. I’ll be back in 3 weeks for some more Thailand, a dollop of Cambodia, and just a little pinch of Singapore.Read more
Day 15 - This is a land of confusion
May 16, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C
20:30
I wake up after a good sleep, but with a slightly groggy head. I challenged myself to empty the fridge before bed, which meant the last beer, and a couple of glasses of wine. I pack for the final time - which means actually getting stuff into my suitcase. One of the things I most enjoy about road trips is having a car in which to dump carrier bags and the like, rather than having to fully pack my suitcase each and every time I’m moving on. I’ve had a black rubbish sack for dirty clothes, a green fabric shopping bag from Sri Lanka for clothes that are worn, but out of which I can probably eke at least one more wear, and a blue Whole Foods bag from Las Vegas that has been the carrier of my booze’n’food along the way. Not this time - everything’s got to go back into my hold luggage. It’s a bit of a squeeze, but goes in happily enough.
I’m still not really sure what to do with myself today. I’m erring on the side of heading up to Miami in good time, dumping the car and my bags, then heading into the city for some beers and food. First, I head further along the northern Keys, stopping at a beautiful little state park named for John Pennekamp. No? Me neither. It’s very pretty though, and I spend a relaxing half hour wandering around the coast line. I try to get to Angelfish Cay, to take a picture of it for Karin, but am denied by a closed road. I stop for a late breakfast at a very cool little café called The Hide Out, and then get on the road North for Miami.
I’ve been assiduously avoiding tolls while I’ve been in the US - not a cost management strategy, but because I’ve been genuinely unsure how to pay for the toll roads, in a world of automated / electronic gates. I decide to finally read the materials I was given when renting the car, and it turns out there’s a very simple way - there’s a transponder on the windscreen, which I basically need to, well - turn on. This cuts my journey time to Miami in half. My flight isn’t until 23:30 tonight, so I’ve got a bunch of time to kill.
Approaching the city, I see signs for an Outlet Mall, which includes a Columbia store. For those unfamiliar, Columbia is an outdoors / activewear brand - think North Face, and you’re not a million miles away. I’ve been on the lookout for some ultra light/quick dry shorts and zip-off trousers for a while now, and if the prices are decent, this could be a godsend. I’m not 100% convinced I have room in my luggage, but let’s worry about that later. The discounts are immense. A pair of Columbia convertible trousers in the UK would cost me close to £100. Here, I pick up 3 pairs for $30 each. Their lightweight shorts would be £60 at home. Here, $20 per pair. I walk out with close to £500 worth of clothes for £140. I then buy a small duffel bag to pack them in, and I’m still ahead by £300.
Pleased with my endeavour - because it’s saved me a ton of cash, and because it’s consumed an hour of my boring waiting time, I reward myself with a visit to ‘World of Beer’ a sports bar a few miles from the airport. I have a pint of Voodoo Ranger, and some loaded tots.
I arrive at the car hire return garage at 15:00. During my stop at WOB (that’s what they call themselves) I’ve realised there’s a Virgin flight leaving at 18:45. Now - bear with me for a moment. When I originally booked my flights to Dulles / out of Miami, my return flight departed at 19:00, arriving into Heathrow around 09:00 on Friday morning. Months back, I got an email from Virgin saying my flight had been changed, and was now a 23:35 departure. Meh, but ok. these things happen. I now find that there’s a flight leaving at almost exactly the same time as my original booking, which I’d much rather have been on. All my flights on this trip are freebies, so I shouldn’t complain *too* loudly, but I’m at least going to head to the ticket office / check-in desk, and see if there’s a chance I can get on the earlier flight.
Nope. No chance. The 18:45 flight is actually over-booked, so zero possibility of me blagging my way onto it. The check-in attendant says my later flight is very close to full. It’s clearly a busy route for Virgin. She does, however, offer to check-in my bags, even though my flight’s not for 8 hours. I accept - somewhat foolishly as it turns out, as I check in the duffel bag with my new purchases, which ALSO has my hoodie, and trouser legs. Hopefully, the plane won’t be too cold.
So - I’ve got 7 hours at Miami airport, a decent whack of funds, and a small notion that I shouldn’t just sit in a bar (many bars) and get hammered. My first port of call is a bar - this does not bode well. They have a beer called Dogfish Head 90. I’ve got previous with this beer. When I went to California for a work conference in 2015, it’s the beer that I thought lovely, until I’d had 7 of them. Then, when going to leave, I fell off my chair. Only in hindsight did I discover that the ’90’ refers to the ABV, which is 9%. Ever since, I’ve considered that the 90 stands for how many minutes it takes to get you broadly pissed. It was a very strange day. The conference was at Disneyland in Anaheim. Stumbling around like the pissed idiot I was, I bumped into Goofy, and then Minnie Mouse. They were all very kind. I was also gifted my beers by a lovely couple from Minnesota, who had joined me, sitting at the bar. When I told them it was my birthday (which it really was), they secretly paid my drinks bill. That was around 15:00 on the Sunday afternoon. I went back to my room for a ‘rest’ and woke up at 07:00 on Monday morning, just in time for the conference to start.
Anyhoo… I’m very well behaved, and have just one of these sneaky little buggers, then sit for a while and catch up on some tablet TV. It’s pushing 18:30 now, so decide it’s probably ok to head through security, having confirmed that my plane is inbound, and due to land soon. The security checkpoint promises a 15-19 minute wait. This is pure bullshit. I realise that as soon as I arrive to the queue. There are 3 of the brand new, 3D scanners available - meaning no need to remove shoes, remove liquids, electronics - but the TSA team responsible for processing passengers have only got 1 of them open. As a result, the queue moves incredibly slowly. At one point, a group of 3 ask if they can move in front of me, because their flight departure time is rapidly approaching. I huff and puff, look at my watch - but let’s face it, my plane leaves in 5 hours, so it’s very little skin off my nose. They repeat this process with 5-6 more people, then hit old grumpy bollocks. An elderly gent (75? 80?) vociferously points out that he arrived to the airport in plenty of time, and maybe they should next time too. I struggle to internalise a chortle. The untrepid explorers flag down a TSA womble, who says he can’t help, and it’s really up to the other customers if they’re allowed through or not.
Finally through, I head for the nearest bar/restaurant. It’s 19:30. Time is advancing. I sit down, order a beer, and am immediately told the bar closes at 20:00. WTAF? Checking the airport’s website, it transpires that NONE of their hostelries are open past 22:00. My flight doesn’t even begin boarding until 23:00. I’m going to have to work this out incredibly carefully… This bar has more of the Dogfish Head 90 on tap. I treat myself to a couple, before they sling me out. Ceremoniously - if that’s even a thing.
Near my gate there’s a ‘Corona Beach House’ which is at least open until 22:00. I um and ah - Corona is a long way from my favourite beer, but needs must. I grab a seat at the bar, and - joy! They have a wine list, a cocktail menu, and more of that Dogfish Head 90. I decline the beer - I feel a bit full anyway. Mojito please! Oooh, and then a Stormy Daniels. No, that’s not right. A Dark and Stormy. Yes, that’s more like it.
21:50
More Dark and Stormy please.
22:35
This is one of the things I adore about US airports. I spend a brilliant half hour chatting to… Nope. Can’t remember his name. He’s from Canada, but lives in Miami. He’s on his way home to Toronto, and gives me some great advice about stuff to do in Toronto itself, in Manitoba, in Vancouver when I/we finally get there. We both spend a little while marvelling at the upwards filled pints (see video), which is one of the coolest things I think I’ve ever seen.
He (nameless) has to leave t get his flight. That’s fine. I can keep myself company with my Darks and Stormies. I’m just settling into my book, when the next guy along the guy interrupts me. He’s Walker - a 22 year old who’s on his way to Brazil for a month. He’s that rarity in the US - a youngster who actually want’s to leave the country. I buy him a beer, he buys me a D+S, and we talk about the evils of capitalism. I’m both jealous of his trip, and excited to steal some ideas for my, Vicki and Tam’s trip later this year. I ask him, as I seem incapable of not doing, of his voting intentions in November. He was pissed off not to be old enough last time around. He’s gay, and should feel like a Democrat vote is his only tangible option. I’m concerned to hear that this politically active kid is barely interested in the election, due largely to Biden’s:
1) age
2) senility
3) luke warm position on traditionally Democrat views
If the Dems can’t pick up this kid to vote for them, they might just be fucked.
The bar kicks us out as advertised at 22:00. I hug Walker goodbye, and head round to the departure gate. Hey - at least it’s air-conditioned.
23:55
Boarded, and furnished with my glass of bubbles. I’m determined to sleep for as long as I possibly can. But I’m also hungry, and want some food.
QUANDARIES.Read more
Day 14 - Livin’ on Key West Time
May 15, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 29 °C
17:00
I’m sad to leave my little enclave in Homestead. It’s such a blissful and chilled out place to spend time. Onwards though, to the Keys. I’d be lying if I said I really knew anything about the Keys, except that it’s where a lot of the South American drugs bound for the US are landed, and there’s a lot of fishing to be done there. I’m up in good time, and on the road by 08:30. I decide to head straight down to Key West, at the very tip of the Keys archipelago, and home to the southernmost point of the continental United States.
The traffic’s a little clunky getting out of Homestead and Florida City, but after a few miles, I’m into an easy, fast cruise. It’s about 150 miles, all the way along the venerable US Highway 1 - the 2,370 mile road that runs the entire length of the eastern seaboard of the US. It’s been my constant companion for the past week, and ends at Key West. There’s nothing standout about the drive, but that doesn’t detract from my enjoyment of it. The Keys are a bustling community, and I spend a great couple of hours watching the world go by as I cruise on by. ‘Towns’ here are really just collections of buildings alongside the highway, intersected by giant road bridges between the islands. I won’t pretend that I’m not slightly entranced by it. Even the Sat Nav keeps me entertained - there's something strangely hypnotic seeing the road on which you're travelling stretch for miles, but with only water on either side of you. Likewise, the view of the road bridges stretching out for miles in front of the car is unfamiliar, but inviting.
Arriving into Key West, I’m both hungry and thirsty. There’s a seafood place called Eaton’s Seafood Market that I’ve read good things about, so head there for some lunch, and a massively needed beer. They deliver on both fronts. I have a crab-cake sandwich, some stellar onion rings, and a quite pokey hazy IPA that gives me just a little bit of a a haze.
Key West is an interesting town. My good friend Jolene has described it as ‘New Orleans but with old people.’ I’ve not been to New Orleans, but somehow understand exactly what she means. I suspect in the height of Summer, and over a weekend, this place is a wild ride. Here and now, before the Summer season really kicks off, it’s a slightly circumspect experience. There are countless golf buggies on the roads, and I've seen several hire shops around the town. I can't believe the DUI rules are any different to driving a standard car or truck, so I'm not entirely sure what the point is. This is what Google's for. *HOLD PLEASE CALLER*
Ah, ok - so it's partly because a lot of the roads in Key West are quite narrow (to which I can attest) and that parking is limited (to which I can also attest), ergo - golf buggies.
I set off to find the southernmost point of the USA, and find…. a queue. There are about 50 people queueing to take a picture next to the monument. I mean - I guess it’s a thing if you’re not from here, but I enjoy taking pictures of the people taking pictures. There are a couple of other places I’d wanted to check out while I was in town, but there are reports of rain-storms coming in later, and I don’t particularly fancy a long drive in the rain, so set off for Key Largo. I meet some rain, but it’s hardly a patch on the torrential experiences I had back in Virginia (which feels like an eon ago, by the way) and by the time I’m arriving into Key Largo, it’s sunshine all the way.
I find my accommodation easily enough, and am pleasantly surprised. I’ve got a large, one bedroom apartment, with a balcony overlooking the marina. It’s lovely. I settle down with a much deserved glass of wine, and take the load off.
21:00
I head out around 18:00, conscious that I’ve not eaten much today, and have limited supplies at my apartment. Bizarrely / irritatingly, the place I want to get to is 20m from my apartment. It is, however, on the other side of the Marina, and there’s no obvious bridge across which to pass. I briefly consider swimming across, but end up walking the long way around, which is c. 20 minutes. It’s still hot, even though the sun is kissing the horizon. I arrive somewhat sweaty, and urgently in need of a beer. The beer is quickly sorted. I’ve no idea what it is, beyond a very pleasant IPA. I order another, and perhaps a third. The menu deserves a peruse, so I indulge it. There’s a cracking sounding grouper special, so I jump in. It’s fab. Grouper is redolent of cod, but with more flavour, and better texture. I very fondly remember having ‘grouper fingers’ in the Bahamas about 35 years ago, which my Dad rechristened groper fingers - obvs. These days they’d be called grouper goujons, and be thrice as expensive. The fourth beer is the one that really hits the spot.
I briefly consider popping to the downstairs bar, where there’s some half decent live music playing, but am conscious that I’m jaded, and rapidly approaching refreshed. I check the IPA details on the way out. It’s an 8.2% whopper. Of course it is. I walk (rather than stumble) back to my apartment, which is deliciously frosty, and grab a beer from the fridge, the last of the six pack I bought on about day 2 of my trip. My only fixed plan tomorrow is to be at Miami Airport by 18:00, and the airport’s only a couple of hours away…Read more
Day 13 - See ya later, alligator
May 14, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 30 °C
19:30
I’m awake at 04:45. I was asleep fairly early last night, so it’s no surprise. I feel like I’ve slept well, and have more than enough time for a nap later if the urge takes me. I head out for some breakfast, to a Puerto Rican place. Huevos Rancheros with Tostones and Refried Beans. It’s banging. The tostones are a revelation. They’re made from green plantain, grated, and then fried like a hash-brown. Delicious. The refried beans are also awesome. I think most folks in the UK think of these as bland, stodgy goop. These are anything but. Texture, bite, tons of flavour.
I head North about 30 miles to Coopertown for an airboat ride through the Everglades. It’s only 10:00 when the boat sets off, but the sun is already hot., so much so that I’ve covered myself in SPF50 for the ride. The noise of the airboat is really something. The best way I can describe it is like a hovercraft without the inflatable skirt. We move through the wetlands at close to 50mph, and as low down to the water as we are, it feels every bit of it. Our boat pilot, John, stops occasionally to talk us through this incredible habitat. I’m surprised to learn that the Everglades is neither swamp, nor (strictly speaking) a wetlands, but rather the slowest moving river in the world, flowing at around 1/2 mile per day. It’s a vibrant ecosystem, teeming with wildlife. Alligators are the star attraction, but there are interesting species of fish, birds, turtles and terrapins, otters, bears, panthers… I mean - we see very little of it at 50mph, but we’re assured it’s there…
We do spot a ‘gator during the trip. He’s a big guy, around 4m long. We try not to disturb him, but he turns, and starts swimming towards the boat - right around the time John is telling us that the alligators can climb into the boat if they wish. I involuntarily flinch. The ‘gator decides against it though, and swims away from us. He’s a gnarly looking creature. Certainly wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him. This will sound weird though. They don’t have *quite* the same evil look as crocodiles. I suspect I’d lose a fight against either, but crocs just look at you like they can see you naked, on a spit-roast, over a BBQ. Alligators look to me to be slightly more benign. The only way I can rationalise this (bear with me, I’ve given this quite a lot of thought) is that alligators’ teeth have evolved to settle into their upper and lower jaws when their mouth is closed. Crocodiles’ teeth have not - they stick out of the mouth when the mouth is closed. I think it’s the lack of overt teeth that makes the alligator seem like the kind of cuddly, misunderstood teddy-bear that I’ve somehow forced myself to believe.
It’s 11:00 by the time I get back on the road, and I head South West to Flamingo, a tiny community at the very southern tip of the main Florida peninsula. The drive through the Everglades is quite hypnotic - long, straight roads, and at one point I don’t see another car for 45 minutes. I stop to walk a couple of short trails along the way. I’m hopeful of seeing some more wildlife, but am cruelly denied. The ecosystem is beautiful to look at, but I’d have liked to have encountered a few more species.
I have a wander around Flamingo, and grab a very decent Cuban sandwich for lunch, along with a much needed beer. The restaurant is part of a new development, with lodging. I suspect (hope) it’s only recently opened, as I’m the only customer when I arrive. An additional 3 people arrive while I’m there. It’s hardly buzzing. Memorial Day weekend is coming up in a couple of weeks, so hopefully they’ve got a bit more business coming their way soon.
My sandwich and beer have left me sleepy. It’s an easy cruise back to my AirBnB, where a nap beckons. I wake up at 17:00 - but only just. I could quite happily have slept on. I decide that a dip in the hot-tub will help wake me up. It does. I briefly consider going out into Homestead, but decide to take it easy this evening. I’ve got beers and wine to finish before I fly home on Thursday, and they won’t drink themselves…Read more
Day 12 - Down in the Everglades
May 13, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 33 °C
16:30
I wake up around 08:00, having had a brilliant sleep. Definitely for the best to have a quiet day yesterday. By 09:30, I’m packed, on the road, and heading due West out of Miami. This morning’s drive will fully take me from the Atlantic over to the Gulf of Mexico. The drive is a fast, straight one. I count perhaps 3 slight curves to the road in 2 hours and 120 miles - other than that, arrow straight.
I arrive into Naples, and head South along the coast, arriving into a tiny place called Goodland around midday. It has a bar/restaurant, a bait shop, and that’s about it. I decide my stomach is up to being fed, so park up and head into the bar. A pint of an American Pale Ale (APA) called Reef Donkey to whet my whistle, and a Mahi Mahi sandwich. The beer’s excellent, and the sandwich even better. I’ve had Mahi Mahi before, but it’s never been this good. The fish is blackened with Cajun spices, and hard grilled. It’s delicious - incredibly moist, incredibly tasty. Critically, it ‘settles’ well in my stomach. I spend a fun half hour chatting to some of the bar regulars. I genuinely think this might be a hangout for retired wise guys. There are regular references to ‘Jimmy the Fish,’ who sounds calamitous at best. They also talk about someone called ‘Tough Tony’ who I *think* has recently died. They all sound like they’re from the Bronx, and they’re all getting very excited watching a Yankee game on the TV. Mindful that I might get whacked if I’m not careful, I settle my bill, and scarper.
The drive back East is fairly uneventful. I’m staying in a town called Homestead, about 30 miles South West of Miami, about 90 minutes drive from Goodland. I stop along the way to see what is claimed to be the smallest Post Office in the USA. It’s smaller than the garden shed I had in Crawley, so I can believe this to be true. I stop at the hugely misleading Shark Valley, where there are no sharks. I take a short walk along the the Shark Valley loop, but quickly realise the sun is properly hot. It’s a 15 mile loop, so I suspect I’d not quite make it all the way round before expiring. There’s a tram tour, but not for another 2 hours. I’ll come back tomorrow…
I arrive into Homestead around 15:45. My AirBnB is AWESOME. A really lovely space, and very considerately appointed by the owners. I’d stay here and write more, but the room has a hot-tub, and it’s calling to me… I shall repair there, along with a glass of the fab red wine the hosts have given me. Catch up tomorrow…Read more
Day 11 - Brown Town : Population, 1
May 12, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 28 °C
21:00
My day starts well. I’m up in decent time, and head out around 08:00, heading to South Beach. The drive over to the beach is pretty spectacular. The road bridges around this part of Florida are wild, spanning, in some cases, miles and miles of roadway right down by the water. This one’s a couple of miles long, and deposits me into the heart of the Bay Harbour Islands. I park up, and find a great diner for breakfast. It’s a proper Airstream trailer place, and has tons of character. The breakfast is awesome as well.
After breakfast, I head for the beach. The sand is such a bright white, and incredibly fine. Vicks sent me a picture of Brighton Beach yesterday, and the difference in underfoot conditions couldn’t be greater. I spot an absolutely pristine 2nd Gen Pontiac Firebird. If you’ve seen Smokey and the Bandit, you’re in the right territory. The Art Deco architecture is beautiful, and the streets are bursting with bars and restaurants. It’s supposed to be quite a sight at night, but I’ll save that for a trip back to Miami with Vicki.
I head back to my apartment to drop off the car, ahead of going to a baseball game. I don’t feel great though. A quick trip to the bathroom (and I do mean quick…) is required, and it appears the brown rains have arrived. Immediately, I put it down to something I’ve eaten, but Vicki sensibly points out that I’ve spent a LOT of time in the sun/heat over the past couple of days, and both days have been quite boozy. Her lucid explanation makes quite a lot of sense. I sack off the baseball game, not feeling quite confident enough to leave the safety blanket of a cold room, and a close toilet. I’d also planned to see Dre, along with his other half, Maria, and his three sons later this afternoon, but decide against this in as:
a) I feel pretty rubbish, and
b) I don’t want to take a chance that I might have picked up a bug along the way
I sleep for a good 3 hours in the afternoon, and wake up feeling, if not better, then at least a little less shocking.
I spend the evening watching movies and chilling out. I’ve been on the road, and pretty manic for the past 10 days, so maybe I just need a slow day, and a bit of a rest.
Around 21:30, I decide to head back to snooze, and hope I’m not awake before dawn…Read more
Day 10 - Miami Vices
May 11, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
23:30
It’s been a long, but fruitful day.
I’m on the road before 08:00, headed East towards the Atlantic coast. I swing by Spook Hill - a gravity hill, that makes it appear that your car is rolling uphill. It’s an optical illusion, but still kinda weird to get your head around.
My first pit-stop is nearly 3 hours down the road, but worth the journey/detour. Morikami is a beautiful Japanese garden, a couple of miles inland from the coast. It’s incredibly serene, and I spend a hugely enjoyable hour or so, just ambling around the different garden sections. I see a giant terrajeff, happily swimming in one of the several lakes. There’s a bonsai exhibition, with some spectacular specimens, some of which are over 100 years old. The sun’s beating down, but there are plenty of shady spots to keep out of it.
I’m only about 50 miles North of Miami, but have another few hours in the car. Traffic is heavy for a Saturday afternoon. I head for Hollywood Beach, just South of Fort Lauderdale, The mercury’s nudging 38C, so instead of walking up and down the sunbaked boardwalk, I stop in a beachfront café for a couple of tacos, and an ultra cold beer. In the space of 5 minutes, I see 3 of the most pneumatically enhanced women I think I’ve ever seen. Honestly - the chest on one of them looks like it must require regular topping up with a bicycle pump.
I continue South, into Miami. The drive into the city centre feels familiar, despite my never having been here. I attribute this to the many TV shows I’ve watched that are based in the city. My AirBnB is in South Miami, in Little Havana. I find it easily enough. The room’s great - part of a Cuban casita. Everything I need, nothing I don’t. I freshen up and head out for a drink. I’m meeting my buddy Dré at 19:00, and figure I should be able to find a decent Mojito to keep me company.
I happen upon a Cuban bar called Guantanamera. Heading inside, I’m a little shocked to encounter thick clouds of cigar smoke. I’d thought/assumed that smoking of any kind indoors would be verboten anywhere in the US. Apparently not. These guys sell cigars - though not Cuban, due to the US’s ongoing trade embargo with Cuba. I’ve never enjoyed smoking cigars, but have always found the smell of the strangely comforting. I order a Mojito , fairly quickly followed by another Mojito. They’re very moreish. A band strikes up, and the tiny dance floor is quickly filled with some very enthusiastic folks throwing groovy shapes.
I meet Dré at Café La Trova, a fab Cuban restaurant in the heart of Little Havana. Over a couple more Mojitos, we catch up, and enjoy some ceviché, salt cod fritters and Cuban style beef sandwiches. Banging. After a quick amble in the cooling evening, we end up back at Guantanamera for more Mojitos. There’s live music, some interesting outfits, cigar smoking, some kind of DJ - it’s all really rather fun. I stop counting the Mojitos at 6, or was it 7?Read more
Day 9 - St Pete’s
May 10, 2024 in the United States ⋅ 🌙 27 °C
22:30
I wake up after a good sleep, but with a strange, empty feeling. This morning is the memorial service for Micky. Em’s organised a livestream from the cathedral, and whilst I’m glad to be able to join the service, I’m feeling incredibly lonely, and distant. The service is at 10:00 local time. It’s a beautiful send off for a wonderful, wonderful man. The music is stirring, the singing rousing, the dedications heartfelt and heart-breaking. I treat myself to a glass of wine to accompany the service, and spend most of the 90 minutes in tears. I’m glad to have been a part of it - even from 4,000 miles away, but fuck - that was tough.
I’m not entirely in the mood for fun and frolics, but if anyone can lift me from this darkness, it’s Andy. We set off for St Petersburg, a 90 minute drive over to the West Coast. It’s a bit of an enclave in Florida - lots of art, cool places to eat, microbreweries, and a vibrant LGBTQ+ community. We start with a well deserved beer at 3 Daughters brewing, with a couple of great tacos to line the stomach. We then march (womble is probably closer to it) around the neighbourhood, taking in some of the great mural work that’s part of an annual street art festival. Some of it’s absolutely brilliant. It’s properly hot today - 37c, and so we must make regular pitstops to keep ourselves hydrated / topped up with beer.
Around 16:00, we head into downtown St Pete’s, and take a walk around the central neighbourhoods. The streets are busy with Friday afternoon revelry. Bars with seating spilling out onto the streets, restaurants that put out a brilliant smell as we walk past them. It’s still banging hot though, so we seek refuge in a ‘pour it yourself’ beer hall. They have c. 40 beers on tap. You don a wristband, which you wave at the beer pump you want, then pour as much as you want. It’s a great concept - similar to a wine place I tried in London a few years back. The beers we try are all excellent, and it’s a really fun way to try beers that you otherwise might avoid.
It’s 18:20, and we should probably head back to Auburndale. We navigate (Andy navigates) the Friday night rush hour traffic on the interstate. It’s reassuring to see that there are just as many (if not more) dickheads in Friday rush hour on US roads than the UK. Back in Auburndale, we head to a brewpub called the Crave and Copper for some food. It’s excellent - sort of high end pub grub / junk food. Brilliant loaded tater tots, some awesome chicken wings, a smoked fish dip that is better than it deserves to be. The only slight let down is Andy’s shrimp and grits, which doesn’t hold a candle to the versions I’ve tried on this trip so far.
I call it a night around 21:45. It’s been a long, and heavily emotional day, and I just want to curl up in a ball and sleep…Read more
Day 8 - Floridays
May 9, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 27 °C
16:30
I have a decent sleep, and wake up feeling fairly refreshed. I don’t have much of a plan today. Will just see where the day takes me. I set off in the general direction of Florida - South by South-East, and arrive into Nashville about a half hour later. It’s a very different Nashville. I have breakfast in an all but empty diner, and another waitress tells me how much she loves my accent. When I walk back to my car, it’s surrounded by police. Well - that’s a bit of an exaggeration. Two police officers and a Sheriff are stood by it, one of whom looks a little like he’s writing me a ticket. I wish them a good morning, and go to get in my car. One of them says, “Hey buddy - you ain’t from round here, huh?” I confirm that I’m not, get in the car, and high-tail it outta town.
I continue in the general direction of Florida. I’m conscious that roads down which I’m travelling are of the long and straight variety. It’s a little soporific. I chuck on the lane assist setting, and fire up the cruise control, and take the opportunity to look around me. The scenery is changing. Gone are the lush pastures of Kentucky and Tennessee. Southern Georgia (and then Northern Florida, when I get there) are drier and more arid.
I arrive into Gainesville, a mid-sized Floridian city around 11:30, and pause to stretch my legs. The sun’s really starting to heat up - around 32C by midday. After a modest mooch, I get back on the road. I’ve got at least another 3 hours down to Auburndale. As I’m pulling into Inverness (!) I realise I’m pretty peckish, so check GoogleMaps for decent lunch spots nearby - finding a lakeside pub. It’s hot, but pleasantly so, and so I sit in the garden. I can’t help but think back to our recent time in Thailand, and the discomfort we’d have experienced if trying to do the same. Jennifer tells me today’s specials, which include a shrimp and sausage gumbo, which sounds perfect. She asks if I want a cup or a bowl. Bowl please. What emerges is what you and I would call a cauldron. It’s vast. The Brit in me won’t let me lave any though, so I plough my way through it. Slowly. It leaves me feeling like a nap, but onwards I must go…
The afternoon consists of more long, straight roads, which aren’t particularly memorable. I arrive into Auburndale just after 16:00, and check into my AirBnB for the next couple of nights. The views over the pool to the lake are really something. The combination of a big lunch and boring roads have left their mark though, and I feel like I’ve earnt an urgent nap.
22:30
My nap is super-deluxe. Nearly two hours, but I wake up feeling refreshed. I’m meeting our good friend Andy later. He’s been in the US for the past 6-7 years, so we see much less of him than we’d like. Hanging out this evening and tomorrow is real treat.
We head to what Andy describes as ‘A typical Polk County bar,’ and I don’t think he’s being kind. We sit outside on the deck, catching up over a couple of beers, and some Gator bites (think fried chicken, but…) which are delicious. As the sun sets, we’re getting eaten alive by mossies though, so move inside. We make plans to meet around midday tomorrow, to go somewhere called ‘St Pete’ - about which I have no idea, but Andy seems excited, so I am too.Read more
Day 7 - Georgia, on my mind...
May 8, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C
06:00
Wow. Guess I needed the sleep. I wake up a few times during the night, but essentially sleep through till 05:30, and a total of 10.5 hours of sleep. I feel massively refreshed as a result. SOLID.
There’s another supposedly stellar BBQ place near the place I’m staying in Georgia. Let’s hope I can stay awake for this one.
I’m only 30 miles from Atlanta here in Gadsden, but I’m headed towards the Talladega Forest this morning, before heading South East into Georgia, via Columbus. It’s all back roads, and small towns. Looking forward to it.
20:00
I’ve had a great, if slightly confusing day on the road today. From Gadsden, I head to a town called Oxford, about 30 miles South. It’s exactly the picture postcard expectation of small town southern USA. I grab some breakfast, then set-off into the countryside, aiming for the Talladega Scenic Highway, in Cheaha State Park. The views across the southern end of the Appalachian Mountain chain are really quite something. It’s a lovely drive through the forest, and I do get a little lost, when I miss a tiny turn-off.
I set off on a fast cruise towards Columbus, a mid-sized town that’s just over the border into Georgia - and on Eastern time. I stop in at a very cool little bar/bistro called The Black Cow. They claim to have the best burger in the South, and I can’t disagree. It’s banging. I have a lovely chat with Felicia who’s working behind the bar. She asks me what I think of America and Americans. I sense a trap. I give a slightly circumspect response about there being great places and not so great places, great people and not so great people, and also mention that I think the election in November is pivotal for the country. “Fuck Trump” is what I get back in response - which I wasn’t entirely expecting.
After lunch, I aim for something I’ve read about - the Drive Thru Museum. It’s back in Alabama though, so on Central Time. I don’t know how folks living right on the timezone border cope with the constant changes. I’d be late for work every day - if I actually worked. I’m entirely unclear whether where I’m aiming for is a museum about the drive thru, or a museum through which one drives. It turns out to be the latter. It’s absolutely crackers. There are 5-6 shipping containers, painted red, and filled with the weirdest collection of displays I could have imagined. I’m not sure it’s really a museum, as much a collection of utterly bizarre, but quite cool tat. It’s a wonderful slice of strange.
I’ve a 2.5 hour / 140 mile cruise through the Alabama and Georgia countryside to reach Tifton, my overnight stop. I’ve had a request to write some words for Micky’s eulogy. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I spend a good chunk of this drive reminiscing about how we met, the time we spent together, and how much I miss him. My playlist for the drive is a nod towards him as well, featuring many of the artists he introduced me to over the years. When I stop for gas, I get a bit of a look from the cashier. It’s only when I get back in the car that I realise my eyes are a deep red, and my cheeks are tear stained.
Having missed out on my BBQ last night, I make sure I get out in Tifton to a little BBQ spot called Pit-stop. I have a combo plate of some sensational ribs, and some very good (but not the best I’ve ever had) brisket, along with an unsweetened ice tea. A fair few restaurants in the South don’t have a liquor licence - though I’m unsure whether this is by design or default. I’m a convert to good iced-tea, though I hope the caffeine doesn’t bite me later. From tomorrow night, I have actual evening plans for the next few days, so it would be great if I was actually able to stay awake past 21:00. I’m *hoping* a little touch of caffeine will help me stay awake till a more reasonable bedtime, without robbing me of the ability to sleep. It’s 20:00, and I’m not narcoleptic yet. Fingers crossed, touch wood etc etc…Read more
Day 6 - Sweet home, Alabama
May 8, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☀️ 21 °C
16:30
There’s a hell of a thunderstorm overnight. It wakes me at 02:30. It’s cool to watch and listen to for a while, but I’m more than a little pissed off when I can’t get back to sleep. I spend a couple of hours trying, but nah - not happening. This is slightly disheartening. I get up at 05:30, piss around for a while, then get showered and packed up. I’m a little concerned I’ll feel properly knackered on the road later, so the earlier I can get to Gadsden, the better.
I swing by the world-famous Bluebird Café, a real institution of the Nashville music scene. I promise myself I’ll come back here with Vicks and make it to a gig. I then head pretty much due East. In the space of 45 minutes, I pass through Lebanon, Carthage, and Sparta. Later in the day, I spot Antioch. Some serious Middle Eastern / mythological shit going on around here. I stop in Cookesville for an early breakfast, at yet another slightly strange backwater diner. My breakfast is a little more traditional than yesterday’s, MUCH lighter, and very tasty. On the way out of Cookesville, I drive past a pink elephant - as you do.
I’m off the highway today, and heading to the far South East corner of Tennessee, and the city of Chattanooga. The drive is spectacular - such wonderful scenery. Anyone that tells you the UK has the lushest, greenest countryside in the world, is high. There are plush pastures here, rolling forests, farmland interspersed with beautiful waterways - it’s such a treat to womble through.
I get more than a little confused as I arrive into Chattanooga, as I appear to have lost an hour somewhere. It’s only when I stop that I discover that Tennessee actually spans two timezones. I discover that there are 13 states that span two timezones, including Florida, where I’m ultimately headed. I shall be on my guard. As a result of this timewarp, it’s time for lunch. I stop into Puckett’s, a bit of a Chattanooga landmark, and have my second shrimp and grits of my trip. It’s amazing. I really need to figure out how to recreate this dish at home - I suspect using polenta. After lunch, I have a little wander around the town centre, which has that folksy, small-town feel to it.
Back on the road, I’m heading through more countryside into Alabama. I’m slightly surprised when I quickly go past a sign welcoming me to Georgia, but go with it. It’s about 100 miles down to Gadsden, and takes around 2 hours. It’s yet more of a delicious backdrop to drive past. I marvel at some of the tin-can construction of the houses alongside the road. From the little I see of it, Georgia’s pretty as a picture.
At one point, I drive over some roadkill, which on closer inspection transpires to be a skunk. A strong smell fills the car. It’s not pleasant.
Pulling into Gadsden, it’s little more than a strip mall either side of the highway. There is, however, a BBQ place across the road from my diner, that’s supposed to be brilliant. I’m at a Red Roof Inn, a budget motel chain that’s found across the country. I’ve done pretty well with my accommodation options thus far, but my luck may have run out here. The room is a touch grubby, and has a slightly strange smell to it - a little musty. I mention this to the person at the front desk, who says all the rooms smell like that. (“Cain’t hep ya Sir, aw the rooms smell like thayat.”) I leave the door open to air the room out a little, and have a quick bifta, in the hope that it might rob me of my olfactory senses. Hold tight for feedback…
22:00
FFS. Put my head down for a hour’s nap at 18:30, and wake up at 21:30, having slept through my alarm. The BBQ place is shut, and I’m not sure I can be arsed to head out for anything. I read for a little while, but I can still feel my head is tired, so head back to bed in the hope that I’ll sleep until a reasonable hour.Read more
Day 5 - The Volunteer State
May 6, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
15:45
Tough going on the road today. But first things, first. Can you guess what time I woke up? Can you? Correct - 05:00, on the button. Today’s my longest journey of the trip - topping out at just over 350 miles. It’s not raining though, which is a blessing. I’m on the road by 07:15, heading for a diner in the middle of nowhere which is broadly on my way to my first main stop of the day. As I join the main road headed South West, the heavens open - just utterly torrential rain. I can barely see 15m in front of the car, no matter how fast my wind-screen wipers are going, or how carefully I look for the lights of other cars. I briefly consider stopping until the worst of it passes, and then suddenly it does. Bright sunshine, with just a bit of spray from the road. I sigh. If this is anything to go by, it’s fixing to be a long day.
The diner is all kinds of awesome. It’s only a couple of miles drive away from the highway down which I’m driving, but feels like it’s in another century. I understand one word in about seven that the waitress utters. The diner is the size of a barn, but I’m the only customer. They’ve only been open for 10 minutes, so I hope they have a rush of customers a little later. I order a breakfast bowl, which transpires to be a biscuit (savoury scone) topped with scrambled egg, country sausage (think the patty from a Maccy D’s breakfast sausage muffin, but broken up into pieces), gravy (not gravy at all), and cheese. It’s actually pretty good, but a bit of a melange. When ordering, it took the waitress and I quite a while to figure out she was asking if I wanted potatoes, because I wasn’t quite understanding ‘taders.’ Still, it’s cheap, nourishing and tasty enough.
The next 2 hours of my drive are wonderful. I’m deep into Kentucky now, and set off on a meandering drive through farming country. I go almost 40 minutes without seeing another vehicle on the road. The farms are a mixture of dairy properties, and horse farms - this being just about the horsiest part of the US. There are a few light showers, but the rain largely keeps away.
After a shade over 2 hours, and just after 11, I arrive at the Buffalo Trace distillery. I’ve had their Bourbon before, but they have a range of other spirits to try. There’s a really good vodka, which tastes unlike any other I’ve tried before (good way, not bad way). There’s a 12 year old Bourbon which is sensational - prominent flavours of caramel, vanilla. There’s a rye whisky which is a pokey, fiery mouthful, but with smooth and smoke in equal parts.
I move on to my next pit-stop, which just happens to be another whisky distillery. This one’s on a much smaller scale with just a couple of copper stills. They offer me 5 whiskies to taste. I point out that I’m driving so need small measures. No problem, I’m told - they’ll pour light for me. I don’t know if they instantly forget this, or whether the ‘usual’ tasting pour is just monstrous, but I barely drink a quarter of what they pour me. It’s a crying shame, as the whiskies are fabulous. I have a lovely conversation with one of the folks that works at the distillery. We compare experiences of drinking whisky in the Highlands, she tells me that Kentucky is close to Scotland in terms of scenery (true) and climate (bullshit, but I don’t say so…) which is why a great many Scots and Irish people settled in Kentucky when they emigrated from Europe. I’d love to buy a bottle for the rest of my journey, but:
1) there’s no way I’d ever get through it all in the next 10 days, and
2) it’s pretty pricey stuff at $150 a bottle.
I’ve done way less than half my driving for today, so decide to get on the highway for a while to cut into the remaining distance. The heavens immediately open - it’s a barrage of water. Now, I’m not suggesting that I normally don’t concentrate when I’m driving, but there’s a sort of super-concentration level required in these sorts of conditions. It’s just knackering to be on edge the whole time. This time, it feels like the rain is setting in for an extended visit. After an hour, I need to take a break. Happily, this coincides with my passing by Kentucky Stonehenge. After being cruelly denied Foamhenge over the weekend, it’s gratifying to see this really rather shoddy tribute to the Salisbury version in all its soggy glory.
The rain lets up. I’ve got 140 miles to go to Nashville. Backroads will take me upwards of 3 hours, but the Interstate promises more like 2. I decide fast and boring today is better than slow and steady. The weather is squally - several torrential downpours, followed by periods of bright sunshine. I miss the State line between Kentucky and Tennessee, presumably during one of the many rain storms. Tennessee is the so-called ‘Volunteer State’ - and I’m a little disappointed to find this is because the state was renowned for its population volunteering for the USA’s 1812 war against the UK, rather than some tradition of selfless philanthropy…
As I arrive into Nashville, the rain buggers off completely, and I’m left with a beautifully warm, sunny afternoon. I stop in at the Grand Ole Opry House, perhaps the most famous of all of Nashville’s live music venues. I looked at whether there was a show on while I’m in town, but decided against it. I’m reliably informed that the downtown bars are where the best (and cheapest) music is most nights. I pull into my hotel at a little past 15:00. It’s really nice to get out of the car, and know that I’m not going to see it for 16 hours…
21:00
I head out from my hotel for a wander. The helpful person behind the reception desk tells me that there are bars galore, just a few minutes walk from us - most of which will have some kind of live music going on this evening. I set off, not with any particular destination in mind, and end up in a thoroughly cool little bar called The Row. They have about 15 different draft options, one of which is a locally brewed cider, that is awesome. Dry but fruity, light but punchy, bizarrely applely (not a real word). There’s a brief moment of confusion, when I realise that I’ve travelled far enough West to move into Central Time, gaining an hour. I stupidly haven’t left my phone on automatic time updates, so where I think it’s 18:00, it’s actually 17:00. I'll be ok tomorrow as Alabama is also on Central Time, but Wednesday could be fun, as I'll be playing jump rope with the time difference throughout the day.
The music is good. The first artist is a young (early 20s?) lady from Texas. She does decent covers of all sorts of genres, as well as a smattering of her own songs. Everything’s going REALLY well until her last song. It’s called, “Will you be my friend,” which sounds innocuous enough. She tells a story about when she first moved to Nashville, and she felt very lonely, that Jesus was her friend, and that if we all try really hard, he can perhaps be our friend too. Look - I know it’s some people’s thing, but it’s just so not mine that it jars a little.
5 ciders deep, I decide that some food is probably in order. I ask the barman what the most typically Nashville dish on the menu would be, and he points me towards a crumbed catfish plate, with okra. It’s better than I think it’s going to be. The okra is…. interesting? Lots of people object to the texture of it, citing it as slimy. No such problem here - it just tastes a little bland. The fish though, is awesome. Super crispy, very moist and flaky, and served with a piquant tartare sauce. YUM.
At least some of the rain has followed me down to Nashville. There’s a powerful rain storm while the music plays. The bar is open on two sides, and I find it really rather enchanting listening to ultra talented musicians while the rain hammers down.
The clock hits 20:00, and I realise that:
1) I’ve been up since before dawn, and
2) I’ve had no afternoon nap today
I’m pretty jaded. I brave the walk back to my hotel, and ready myself for what I hope will be a splendid sleep.Read more
Day 4 - Country roads, take me home...
May 5, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
15:30
I’m awake (again) at 05:00, with a slightly fuzzy head. I read for an hour, catch up on some other travel plans, and check in with the home contingent. I’ve got a looooong day’s driving ahead of me, but there’s no real point in me getting on the road before 08:00. I’m heading across the entire breadth of West Virginia, the Mountain State. The rain has lingered overnight, and I’m anticipating a day with a lot more low lying cloud and murk.
Karin has recommended a new café to me, in Romney, about an hour’s drive from Winchester. They open at 09:00, so I set off just after 08:00. I’m back on Route 50, which was my constant companion yesterday. The scenery is stunning. I drive through more than a few properly squally rain showers. Happily, the roads are all but empty, so it’s a relaxing drive.
Breakfast at Wild Roots is fab. I have a breakfast burrito that weighs almost as much as I do. It’s delicious. The coffee is strong, and helps resurrect my still fuzzy bonce.
Back on the road, I cruise along at between 70 and 80, and marvel at some of the place names on offer. Nutter Fort, Big Otter and St Albans are among my favourites. The weather’s starting to break a little, and there are some decent sunny spells along the journey. It’s a good 2 hours to the Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum. On arrival, it’s a spectacular building, and still has the iron bars across the windows. It was originally designed to house 250 ‘inmates’ when it was built in the late 19th century, but peaked in the 1950s at a population of over 2,000. It was transformed into a museum back in 2004, and many of the rooms/cells are still in their original condition. It’s pretty horrifying. The tour guide tells me about the lobotomy experiments that were regularly conducted on patients that might have reported with something as straightforward as epilepsy. *Shudder*
It’s a 2 hour straight shot down the road to Huntington, my overnight stop. I picked Huntington because:
a) it’s approximately halfway between Berryville and Nashville, and
b) there’s a really cool sounding hot dog place that I wanna try.
The roads are getting much busier, but traffic’s still moving freely. I find myself pulling into Huntington in what feels like no time at all. My motel is basic, but clean and comfortable. Oooh, afternoon nap sounds fun.
21:30
I open the door to leave my room, and am met by a wall of rain. It’s absolutely pooning it down. My car’s only parked a few metres from cover, but I’m still beyond soggy when I get into it. It’s a 10 mile drive into the middle of absolutely nowhere to get to Hill Billy Hot Dogs, and the rain eases and then stops en-route. HBHD is a very cool, intentionally esoteric kinda place. The counter clerk apparently loves my accent. I Grant it up a bit (Hugh, not Mitchell), and she coos.
They offer an eating challenge hot dog called a Homewrecker. It’s close to 2 feet long (60cm for the civilised folks out there), and if eaten in less than 10 minutes, is free. Apparently the vast majority fail. I’m a little more circumspect with my order - a Hillbilly Dog, and some mac and cheese bites. The dog is excellent - properly smoked beef wiener (snigger), a quite poky chilli, mustard and raw onion. This is all washed down by a local IPA called Devil’s Anse - which I mistakenly hear as Devil’s Arse.
On my way back to my motel, the skies are brooding again. It’s warm and humid. I stop in at Walmart for some supplies. It’s comfortably the biggest supermarket I’ve ever seen - bigger than the cavernous hypermarchés I remember from trips to France as a kid.
Back in my room, I settle in for a Sunday night movie, Leon - which I haven’t seen for many years. It’s still a fabulous film, and I manage to keep my eyes open throughout. I make it to 21:30, and reckon that’s enough for today…Read more
Day 3 - The dog days are over
May 4, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 11 °C
14:00
I wake up:
1) earlier than I’d have liked, and
2) cold. Not a bit chilly. Actually cold.
Looking outside, I quickly understand the temperature. There has been much rain overnight, and the pavements (sidewalks) are slick with water. I went to bed with clear skies, and the temperature hovering around 21C. It’s now overcast, rainy, and 13C. Brrrrr.
The waking up bit is hardly unexpected. I was asleep before 10:00, and am wide awake at 05:00. Solid sleep, but am gonna be bored for a while before the world wakes up.
My plan today is not to have a plan. I need to get over to Winchester by 14:00-15:00 to get checked in, before meeting Clay and Kris for drinks/food etc etc. It’s an hour drive, so I’ve got lots of time to play with.
Walking out into the parking lot, it’s pooning it down, really quite unpleasantly. My initial thought had been to head to a couple of Civil War battlefields nearby, but outside can go fuck itself. There are some cool sounding wine, beer and cider stops further over towards Winchester, but none are open until 11:00 or 12:00. As a result, I decide to drive 40 minutes North, over the border with Maryland, to a cannabis dispensary. Most of the states I’m driving through are still cannabis deniers, so this will be my last chance to grab some smoke for the next couple of weeks.
The weed dispensary is a very interesting experience. It started out as a medical marijuana dispenser, but with the changes in recreational use laws in Maryland in 2019, now sells to adult recreational users as well. I’m not 100% convinced my UK passport will be accepted as proof of ID until it is. There’s a tablet on the wall to make my choices, before queuing to pick my order up at the dispensary. It’s kind of like going to an Argos. After Vicks and my foray with pre-rolleds, I want to try weed vapes. I’d rather not chuck tobacco into my lungs if I can avoid it. There’s a broad range of options, so I plump for a Sativa strain for the day, that will allegedly leave me energised, creative and bouncy, as well as an Indica strain that promises me relaxed, sleepy and blissed out. Well, I’ll be the judge of that.
Back on the road, I head in the approximate direction of Winchester, via a very pretty town called Middleburg. On the way into town, I stop at Cana Estates winery for a quick tasting. They give me 3 wines, 2 of which are brilliant. The third is well…. The first two are brilliant!
As I leave the town (village), there’s a cider barn. Of course I stop. They brew their own ciders on-site, and I grab a tasting flight of 4 ciders. One is great, one is good, one is ok, and one is actively unpleasant. I figure this is about fair.
From Middleburg, I head out along Route 50. It’s a lovely scenic drive. More of those sweeping curves and undulating roads. At one point, I start driving up a slight incline which ultimately continues for a few miles. Suddenly, I'm in the very low lying cloud, the view of which is really pretty special. I half expect to see a gorilla emerging from the mist. I stop briefly to try and photograph this eerily quiet perspective.
Back on the road, I drive past a sign for a brewery called Twisted Oak. Yes, of course I do. I have a flight of 4 of their beers. I luck out this time, as all are great. Amazingly, the Stout is brewed with coffee tequila, though I’m not sure if it’s the hallowed Café Patron Vicks and I encountered in Thailand. I ask the guy behind the counter, but he looks at me with suspicion. It gives a smoky and slightly salty flavour to the beer - delicious. There are a couple of IPAs, one of which is hazy in the New England style, and which I could drink by the bucketload. Finally, there’s an Amber ale, sharing a lot of DNA with British bitter. It’s called Arlo’s Amber, after the Jack Russell, Arlo, who is the hound of the property. He seems to sense that I am not a dog person, by coming to sit with me. He nuzzles, he lies down. At one point, he rolls over and shows me his belly (and balls). I give him some strokes, but I think he suspects my heart is not in it.
It’s only another 15 mins up the road to Winchester. Happily, my room is available to check-in when I arrive…
22:15
Had a great evening catching up with Clay, and meeting Kris for the first time. Clay and I worked together at SHL for the best part of 10 years, until he was made redundant when the new private equity owners decided to offshore the vast majority of digital and product roles to India. It’s worked out really well for him, as he secured a huge pay rise, and now works in a place not widely populated by idiots. I’ve not met Kris before, but it’s lovely finally to put a face to the name. She’s had awful problems with her spine for the past 10 or so years, and has just recently had (yet) another surgery, this time at the world famous Johns Hopkins hospital in Baltimore. It seems to have helped, but she’s still pretty early on in her recovery. Their place is in Berryville, a small town 10 or so miles from my hotel in Winchester. Their detached, 3 bedroom house on a plot of around an acre set them back about £250k. Outside of the bigger towns and cities in the US, there is amazing value to be had in property. I also get to meet Harvey, their bulldog, about whom I have also heard much. He’s a lovely, chunky and solid fella.
We head up to a brewery called Bear Chase, up at the top of the mountain. I’m told the views are typically breathtaking, but today the mountaintop is shrouded in low-lying cloud. Visibility is about 10 metres, tops. It’s very cool, albeit in a slightly different way than planned. We have a few beers, and a pretty decent band strikes up. We’re all getting peckish, so C+K take me to a local restaurant called Suecats, which is run by a friend, . Clay and Kris demand that we try the fried green tomatoes, as they’re new to me, and I then have an amazing bowl of shrimp and grits (similar to polenta). The dish is hugely tasty. When chef comes to say hi, I ask how he’s elevated the humble grit to such high heights. His response? “A ton of butter, a ton of cream, and a ton of cheese.” Righto.
My early start is beginning to catch up with me. I order an Uber, which takes a long while before a driver accepts. We’re properly out in the sticks, and having accepted the ride request, it’s fully 25 minutes until I’m picked up. Being somewhat refreshed, I attempt to engage my driver in conversation. This does not go well. After 4 single syllable responses to my 4 questions, I admit defeat. I’m back at my hotel by 22:00, and face down fully asleep only moments later.Read more
Day 2 - Old Dominion
May 3, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 15 °C
16:00
I sleep fairly well. I wake up at 01:40 feeling wide awake, despite only having been asleep for a couple of hours. I wake up at 03:50, and am convinced it’s time to spring out of bed. There’s enough residual tiredness though, that each time I manage to get back to sleep. I wake for the final time at 06:00. I have a brief try, but no - it’s not happening. I’ve done ok though.
My travelling body clock is used to Asia, and it feels a little strange waking up to find the day is half done in the UK. There’s a decent sounding diner nearby that I’ll head to for breakfast, but it’s not open till 08:00. I pass the time looking for stuff to do today. I’ve visited Virginia countless times for work, but my experience has been restricted to the North East corner, up near Washington DC. Today, I’m going to head out to see a bit more of what Old Dominion has to offer…
The decent sounding diner turns out to be even better than advertised. Twelve bucks buys me sunny-side eggs, hash browns and corned beef hash. It’s a hefty plateful, and should set me up for the day. I’m planning to be on a two meal per day strategy while I’m here, otherwise I suspect I’ll come home the size of a housing estate.
After breakfast, I head South West, along Highway 66. This is NOT Route 66. Apparently there’s an Interstate 66 as well - just to add to my confusion. I don’t love highway driving, so when the opportunity to head off on a smaller, back road presents itself, I grab it. The following hour is a delight of sweeping curves, swooping hills, and increasingly bizarre place names. I love this side of road-tripping. I drive past several vineyards, which surprises me a little. I obviously know there’s more to US wine than California, but wasn’t aware that there’s a burgeoning wine industry in Virginia. I’ll take a look on my way back. For now though, I’m headed to Shenandoah National Park, and specifically to the Skyline Drive, a 105 mile road through the Blue Ridge Mountains.
The drive is beautiful. The views over the Shenandoah Valley are mesmerising. I stop at a few overlooks, and have a wander through nature. The park is close to deserted, and it’s a wonderful moment of solitude. I’m also loving my little car - my constant companion for the next 2 weeks. Just this morning it’s done busy town driving, highway cruising, and country back roads, and dealt with all of them really well, and been fun to throw around. They do an EV version, which I’ll take a look at as our next car, when we replace ours later this year.
Leaving the North end of Skyline Drive, it’s turning midday, and I’ve been awake for hours. Google Maps directs me to a lovely little bar-cum-BBQ pit a couple of miles away. I’m not remotely hungry, but the smells coming from the smoker are objectively amazing. While I’m nursing my beer, an order of a brisket sandwich comes out of the kitchen. I briefly consider ordering one to go, but decide against it. From here, I set the sat-nav for Foamhenge - which is exactly what it sounds like. I ask Google Maps to avoid highways and toll roads, and end up spending a joyous hour discovering more of the backwaters of Virginia. I stop at a couple of vineyards along the way - with mixed success. The wines at Three Foxes are adequate, the wines at Greenhill really pretty good. I’m very well behaved though, and do much more spitting than swallowing.
I arrive at Cox’s Farm only to find Foamhenge DENIED. Apparently, it’s only open in Summer, which doesn’t officially start until Memorial Day, at the end of May. Curses.
It’s a quick 20 minute scoot back to Herndon. I grab some road supplies from Safeway, and head back to my motel. I’m seriously considering an afternoon nap…
19:45
Ya see, the danger of afternoon naps when travelling West is that your body, not unreasonably, thinks it’s bed time. As a result, waking up after an hour is way more challenging than it should be. My alarm goes off at 18:30, and I could very easily roll over and go straight back to sleep. Being the brave little soldier that I am, I manage to drag my ass out of bed. Takes a good 10 minutes before I can open my eyes properly though.
I head out for a walk, in the hope that some exercise will blow away the cobwebs. My motel’s in a pretty bland part of town. Strip malls, supermarkets, chain hotels. I do find a sports bar, so pull up a stool. They’ve got a good selection of local beers, one of which I try. It’s decent. There are something like six TV screens, running from one end of the bar to the other, and each showing a different game or event. There’s Major League baseball, college baseball, college lacrosse, NHL ice hockey, a re-run of some Formula 1 that was on earlier, and a talk show about NFL football. I love these sports bars. They’re an ingrained part of local US culture. Guaranteed if you walk into one alone, you’ll be part of a conversation ten minutes later. So much so, that…. Oooh, Tuaca!
21:30
I spend a very enjoyable hour talking to Albie, he who ordered the Tuaca. Si, the bar manager, explains that he had a bottle of it delivered accidentally a few years back. The distributor said to keep it, rather than go to the hassle of sending it back, and Albie, who’s one of Si's most regular customers, developed quite the penchant for it. As a result, he now goes through a couple of bottles a month at the bar. I explain the resonance of Tuaca and Brighton, and Si ends up pouring me a free shot of it, which is more than kind.
Dinner is a very good Reuben - such a good combination of flavours. 3 beers and a couple of Tuacas in, and I’m fading. I reckon a Zopiclone tonight to try and bank a good 8 hours, and a reasonable wake up time...Read more
Day 1 - Westward, HO!
May 2, 2024 in the United States ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
12:00
I’ve done a few swift turnarounds over the years - but I think only for work trips. This is comfortably the shortest home pit-stop I can remember that’s purely for fun purposes. Just enough time to refresh my underwear selection, spend some time with the boys, and plan out my next trip. Solo sojourn this time, so I’m back to sticking to a tight(er) budget - something that’s particularly tough to do in the US at the moment. It’s a road-trip, and I managed to snag a really good car hire deal. There’s some risk attached though. It’s one of these ‘mystery car’ deals - no idea what you’re driving till you turn up to collect it. At best, it’ll be a big and comfy SUV or sedan. At worst, well - let’s try and stay positive.
I’ve got accommodation booked for my first few nights in Virginia / West Virginia, and then have a rough route planned, which’ll take me down through Kentucky and Tennessee and into Alabama, then across Georgia and down into Florida, where I’m excited to catch up with some very dear friends. I’m conscious I’m heading through the deep South, and what is largely staunch Republican territory. With any luck, I might get to attend a Trump rally while I’m there.
In line with my budget conscious approach, I write this from a National Express coach. A return ticket has set me back £30, where the train would have been £80, and a cab in each direction several hundred. There’s a distinct hint of murk to the weather. Checking the weather report for the Washington DC area, it looks like I’ll be landing into a balmy evening of temperatures in the mid 20s, and heat index that’s actually the same. After our recent heat-based experiences in Thailand, this is better than good news.
14:30
There are several stops between Brighton and Heathrow. At each, the driver leaps down to help passengers load/unload their luggage. Every time he gets back on the coach, there’s an irrepressible honk of cat piss. Not ‘a smell that’s a bit like cat piss.’ Actual cat piss.
Other than that, the journey to Heathrow is a piece of, well - piss. Deffo one to use in future for those all too rare occasions when time’s not of the essence. From bus to bar takes a little over 30 minutes, which for Terminal 3 is lightning speed. And, result! I’ve got a free upgrade. I recently got my Virgin Silver status back, and it seems this is my reward. It’s to Premium Economy, which given I’m going to try and sleep for as much of the flight as possible, is a treat. I’ve got to be sensible on the booze front - I’m picking up my car at Dulles Airport on arrival, so best not to be three sheets when I do… That’s all 10 hours from now though, so I celebrate the start of a new adventure with one of my favourite ciders (Orchard Pig’s Reveller) in one of my favourite airport bars (T3’s The Curator).
23:30
Body clock is all over the shop. Flight is a little delayed taking off, but we’re Westward bound by 18:00. Shouldn’t change our arrival time. My upgrade has actually put me in a bulkhead seat, so I’ve got a ton of leg room. I have a glass of bubbles on boarding, and a G+T soon after take-off. I um and ah about a wine with my meal, and come down firmly on the side of ah. I start to watch Oppenheimer, having not quite got around to it yet. My eyes are heavy though, and I can feel a nap coming on. I sleep for around 3 hours, and wake up feeling a lot more refreshed. We’re only 90 minutes out from DC as well = RESULT.
There’s an elderly lady sat next to me. Well, not quite next to me. There are 3 parallel seats in the bulkhead. We each have the aisle seats, and there’s an empty seat between us. She’s feeling the cold, bless her - and is wrapped up in about 3 blankets. A member of the cabin crew does the rounds offering duty free shopping. I tend to think this is a bit of a thing of the past, as online shopping has largely equalised the discounts available on-board. I sometimes grab a bottle of Bourbon at the airport if I’m heading somewhere where room drinks might be tricky to come by. Anyways, I’ve got my noise cancelling cans on, so can’t hear my colleague’s discussion with the flight attendant. It goes on for some time. Eventually, a bottle of perfume turns up, along with a bottle of tequila, and it’s the tequila that surprises me a little. I’d perhaps expected gin, or maybe a liqueur of some description. At an opportune moment, I ask Margaret (for that is her name) whether it’s a gift for someone she’s visiting. Oh no, she replies - it’s for me. I love me a bit of the old Tequila. And I now can’t get an image of her doing tequila shots with lime and salt out of my head.
I use the last hour of the flight to finish watching Oppenheimer, which is a genuinely staggering bit of cinema. It's a period of history I've always found fascinating, but I've only ever had a passing knowledge of the work that was done on the Manhattan Project. Cillian Murphy's and RDJ's performances are both stellar, but the entire cast delivers.
We land at 20:20, pretty much bang on time. I’m a little disheartened on arrival into the immigration hall to see a lengthy queue for ‘visitors’ and only 2 TSA agents checking documents. The queue crawls at a glacial pace for an hour. I don’t feel too tired, even though my body thinks it’s 02:00. I’m just bored. Once the sizeable US Nationals queue has cleared, the TSA team open up those desks for foreigners, and things start to move along a little quicker. By 22:00, I’m looking for my hire car. Thrifty have told me to pick the car up at the Thrifty parking lot, but have given no indication as to where this is. I ask a few people, who send me in various wrong directions. I then nearly get run down by a minibus. It’s only when I turn around to yell at the driver, that I notice the van says ‘Hertz / Dollar / Thrifty.’ Kismet.
At the hire car parking lot, I meet a lovely Brazilian lady who works for Hertz, and we chat for a few minutes about my trip there later this year. She warns me not to go walking in the favela after dark. I mean - thanks Brazilian lady, but I was not really planning to. She also recommends a few towns/cities to visit on the hugely long stretch of Atlantic coastline, and this is great intelligence to have. My car is a Kia Soul - a kinda small SUV type square boxy thing. It’s comfortable enough though.
Leaving Dulles is unnecessarily complex. To be fair, leaving Heathrow when you’re unfamiliar with the local roads, have been travelling for 17 hours and it’s dark, would probably also be challenging. I finally find a road that takes me where I need to go. My home for the next couple of nights is a motel. Simple, basic, clean. The bed looks very inviting… I’m hoping that having made it nearly midnight (or 05:00 in the UK) means that I might crack jet lag more quickly than I historically have done when travelling West. I have horrendous memories of 01:00/02:00 wake ups in Minneapolis years ago, but I wasn’t half the sleeper then, that I am now.
WISH ME LUCK.Read more
Day 23 + 24 : Homeward Bound...
April 28, 2024 in Thailand ⋅ ☁️ 32 °C
Day 23 and 24 - Homeward Bound
Day 23 - 18:00
We wake up feeling very smug. During the night, I’ve had to snuggle under the duvet a couple of times, so frosty is it. Our day feels like it is going to go well. We grab some breakfast at our hotel, and head back to the room. I briefly think about packing, but read instead. We’ve the sum total of fuck all to do until our cab picks us up at 16:30, and this feels totally deluxe.
Around midday, I start to consider being a bit more organised, but Vicki suggests popping out for a beer, and who am I to deny my wife what she really wants? We womble over the road to the beach, which is much prettier than we’d perhaps thought it would be. We park at a beach bar, and watch the world go by for a while. It’s still mega-hot. The heat index is up to 47C again, and even sitting in the shade, it’s a little challenging. I grab a couple of beers from the supermarket on our way back to the room, and spend a frenetic 20 minutes getting myself packed, followed by a far less frenetic 60 odd minutes drinking Singha and watching an episode of Shogun.
When our cab arrives, it is palatial. It looks like an airline first class seat transported to a Thai style minivan. There are brandy glasses in a little rack next to my seat - but alas, no brandy into them to pour.
Once again, the check-in and security experience at the airport is a breeze. Our cab drops us at 16:50, and by 17:10 we’re ordering a beer and a sandwich in the departure lounge. We congratulate ourselves - particularly as the lounge gets busier and busier. There are 4-5 big international flights leaving within an hour of each other, and the volume of people has grown exponentially. Vicki braves a wine, and it doesn’t immediately upset her tummy, which is great news. She reckons it’s just making her feel a little tired - which is entirely understandable, given her average nightly sleep on this 3 week trip has been over 10 hours…
Day 24 - 01:50
Our first flight is a breeze. We meet a lovely guy called Junior from Lisbon, who is sharing the block of 3 bulkhead seats with us. The cabin crew taking care of us are great fun. I manage a couple of hours of half decent sleep. Vicks doesn’t, but her 3 week average will barely take a dent… We have a couple of red wines, but feel like we’ve behaved ourselves pretty well.
Our transfer in Dubai is a little over 3 hours. When we clear the connection security checks, the concourse feels all but deserted. DXB is a slightly strange airport, in that it’s a 24/7 operation, but has real peaks and troughs of activity through the day. I don’t think I’ve actually ever been here at 23:00. I know for sure that there’s a real rush of people around 01:00. We make for the B concourse, where we find our next departure gate. We pitch up at the Hard Rock Café, and enjoy a couple of beers / wines while we wait. The time passes quickly, as we’re regaled by one of the bar managers doing passable AC/DC impressions. Oooh, we need to go and board the next one…
Day 24 - 09:30
Home! The boys are delighted to see us - sort of. They’re definitely pleased to see people who are offering them food.
The flight back from Dubai is also a breeze. We have another decent companion on the block of 3 seats, who we encourage into having a glass of red wine at what is actually 05:00, but which our bodies think is weird o’clock.
About an hour out from Gatwick, I pop to the galley to drop off some rubbish, and grab us a quick drink. A couple of guys are waiting for the toilet, looking equal parts frustrated and desperate. One of them asks the cabin crew team to check the toilet, as someone’s been in there for quite some time. A quick knock later, and the toilet is flushed, and a guy emerges looking really pretty shifty. He doesn’t respond to questions about whether he’s ok. Very strange.
I mention this, because we spend 15 minutes at Gatwick after landing waiting for some customs/police officers to board They’re looking for a passenger, we know not why. Turns out, it’s Mr Shifty that I encountered earlier. He goes quietly, and we disembark.
Our fave airport driver, Andy, is waiting for us in arrivals, and the drive back to Brighton is blissfully quick. The chilly, rainy weather won’t be to everyone’s liking - but after 3 weeks of temps in the mid to high 30s, and heat index readings in the mid to high 40s, we’re really rather enjoying it…
Day 24 - 15:00
Reflections…
1) Thailand is great. Beautiful place, with some wonderful people. The food is off-the-hook good - and a real eye opener for foodies like Vicki and I. Many many dishes that I’ll recreate for us at home.
2) Jeez, it’s hot. We both agreed we need to understand more about heat index temperatures, and El Nino heatwaves before committing to another trip to Thailand (or other parts of SE Asia). We definitely ‘coped’ but had to curtail a few things we wanted to do as I think we’d have both ended up pretty sick if we hadn’t.
3) Island hopping is great fun - and the islands have such distinct characters, even when they’re only 20km apart. Koh Pha Ngan and Koh Lanta are probably our faves at the moment, but there are a ton more to explore next time we visit.
4) Koh Samui can do one.
That’s it for now.
It’ll barely surprise you to learn that my next trip (solo this time…) starts in a couple of days. See ya then xRead more
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