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To be honest with you all, I have re-written the start of this post a few times as I lost the flow of events about New York, my final destination, but with the boys being around, it whizzed by and they have to be my excuse. So, this is how I remember it…

As we made our way up to New York on Wednesday…no, it was Tuesday…(another delayed flight unfortunately), you could see the weather changing and the touch down at New York’s JFK was in heavy rain. Such a contrast to my Southern States venture as I had been getting used to being bathed in Sunshine not Water.

Having Tom and Jon as travelling companions was an added bonus as the thinking was being shared and decisions much easier.

After a quick train ride into the city, we were down into the City on a Friday evening, in rush hour and in a thunderstorm. The ‘decision’ was made to walk the ‘few’ blocks as the traffic was all static anyway. Working against the crowds wanting to go to the station and also avoiding all the tourists using every bit of shelter to avoid the rain, was a pain, but we were led by our lead Guide…Tonto…well Tom who kept the pace and run the lines between each of the pedestrian crossings at the end of each of the blocks. The few blocks was actually 13 blocks which in American terms is a bit more than a stroll. However, with his lead we were soon there and wringing ourselves off in the Lobby of the Paramount Hotel, just off Times Square.

The Paramount is another one of the up and coming boutique hotels that does things funky. What that means is that they turn the lighting down to dim, spray the hotel with ‘atmosphere’ which is the sort of thing you get in the Abercrombie and Fitch stores (think of a choking dust, the sort of thing you would get in the loft of an old house mixed with a vanilla room freshener), then add some music played directly from a live DJ, looking down from a first floor window to the reception below, a bit like a modern-day court musician.

All checked-in, we felt our way to the lifts and then used the braille buttons inside to select our floors. This was a New York Hotel in a prime spot just off Times Square, so I wasn’t expecting greatness from our rooms. I was in a small room by myself, which was more akin to a Japanese Capsule Hotel, but funky, so I guess that was good for me? the Boys shared a larger room with a view, so made no time in holding back their laughter at my suite. But then again Funkiness would override our stay and I had dunmoanin for the day. I worked out where I could place my Bag to be the most efficient for walking to and from the Bathroom and I was done. And the view?… X…”I’m sorry Dave, that is not one of our top 5 answers…” Thank god I like arty stuff and funky is like art?? (to be questioned in a few days).

This is the City that never sleeps so it was important for us to have a walk out to get a bite of dinner and to do some people and light watching. Yes, Light watching. If you haven’t seen Times Square before, most people look up rather than at their feet as the massive adverts on the buildings are quite amazing. You can’t help but feel excited about New York when you see Times Square.

You will also never starve in New York. Quite the opposite…so we didn’t, and a nice little Italian meal finished off the night. I managed a single glass of Merlot, Jon managed nothing as we were still a bit sluggish from the night before. As for Times Square other than the Lights and the Yellow Taxi’s, anything goes! Not sure why nipples have to be hidden by band-aid plasters when the rest of your body is naked and spray in silver paint, but fairly liberal all the same. Everyone is trying to hack a living out here and they try so hard. An old guy approached us and asked if we knew how to tell the difference between a Male and Female M&M..”one has nuts!”. Not sure what he was selling though.

So evening one over and back to the Hotel for a comfy nights sleep, in the dark, in my capsule…I wonder if the book would have sold as many copies and become an Oscar-winning film if it was titled ‘The room without a view’.

Wednesday’s weather was a complete change and it would get hotter and hotter through the week. The sky was a clear blue and the whole place looked different. It was also quite fresh as the rain had dampened down a bit of the haze that New York gets. Times Square changes through the day, just as the Red Rocks in Uluru or the Grand Canyon change their colours in the sunshine. In bright sunlight the buildings make you feel like you are in the great outdoors surrounded by huge mountains and at night it is as if you are in a huge room with all the lights turned on and the TV blaring.

I guess we headed out by 10am for some Pancakes at a Restaurant that Tom (don’t forget he is Tonto) had sniffed out on a previous trip to New York. They were absolutely yummy. As a Pancake connoisseur I really can taste the subtle changes in milk, eggs and flour, honestly. Out onto the streets everywhere is crammed with thousands of people and taxi’s are whizzing or beeping their horns up and down the avenues. It is funny, the first time you hear a car horn or a siren you look around to find it, after 10 minutes you just ignore it…This is New York, it’s loud and it’s in your face. We were milling around the shops and just taking in everything New Yorker style. Tonto guided us up to Central Park after various detours looking for shops. Enjoying New York means, Hot Dogs from street vendors, drinks when you are thirsty and simply just taking it all in. A trip to the Zoo, again!, was a nice attraction and good fun just because it was there. Central Park was heaving with Bikini clad girls taking good opportunity of the great conditions. Everyone’s relaxed…this is a really cool place. I’m saying ‘cool’ too often in my diction and something I must work on. The conversations with the boys just bounced back and forth, an enormous amount of making fun out of one another which is par for our course and the odd bit of philosophy, which then got debated. Tonto would love to live out here, I would love to visit him.

Our evening was probably the highlight of our stay. We went off to see the New York Yankees baseball team who were playing the Los Angeles Dodgers. It was really quite exciting. We got there early to take in the Ground to snap a few pictures and have a Hotdog and a Beer. A mortgage later (even the regulars moan at the prices they get charged) we were sitting in the gods with some of the locals watching the Yankees get slaughtered, much to the abuse of their loyal fans. I am not too sure of the rules, but it is a bit like a man’s version of Rounders with better uniforms. The passion shown by the whole crowd at the start of the game to national anthem was special and standing looking at the flag you feel part of it, if for a Brit, 250 years too late. A great night.

Taking in New York challenges all the senses. First there are the sweet smells from the cart vendors and the vile smells that come out the ground or are distributed by the few police or carraige horses that trot up and down the streets (not exactly like Delhi) and the din out on the streets whether they be people calling out, the odd musician or just people shouting. New Yorker’s do have loud voices and aren’t shy at using them. And there is just what the eyes see. In The centre of Times Square if you just stop and stare for a while, you will notice that everyone is doing the same, stopping and staring. Big screens of adverts flashing 24 hours a day are as fascinating as a Broadway Play, Colourful characters roam the streets as Super Hero’s or just some weird or risque costume. You don’t need depth of thinking in New York you just have to accept it for what it is and let the senses do their job. I sometimes feel that I shouldn’t be a fan of this type of City, but as you look and listen it just draws you in.

Our journey downtown to the Financial District and the obligatory passing of the rebuilding of Ground Zero, gives you a sense that things are back to normal. The streets are full of tourists and business people alike, especially at lunch time, but the tall buildings are as beautiful as a range of mountains in their own way. We caught the short ferry across to New Jersey where you get a full appreciation of the NY sky line from Upper to Lower Manhattan. I was a bit irritated that Jon’s iPhone produced a panoramic photograph in seconds which my Olympus (or my ability) couldn’t deliver. While we were out there I have to mention Deli’s. New York does Deli’s exceedingly well. I am not sure how they make money on their sandwiches that bulge with content and flavour at pretty low prices. The New Jersey sandwich of Italian Meatballs with Tomatoes and Peppers was just wonderful. Which was marginally better than the massive Pastrami and Mustard sandwich of the day before. All you need is the confidence to order something sensible before the server works out that you are a novice to ordering and shouts to the next in line.

So what are the other fillers that we have been doing? Well the Finals of the NBA basketball reached the pinnacle this week. Tied 3 games all, Miami Heat and San Antonio Spurs had a nail-biting finish which we shared on TV with Americans cheering for both sides at an Irish Bar, where else? It lasted almost 3 hours, seems like Americans like the number 3, and we survived on Beer and a shared plate of Irish Stew and Mash…what a sufferance. This was a late night so the next days breakfast went back even further. As a City which never sleeps, it doesn’t really matter when you drift in and out of its fun and bright lights.

I can’t quite remember the full details of Friday and Saturday. What I can remember is the Heat and Humidity. We have had some great weather. Oh I remember how we finished the Friday. We headed up to New York’s Dave and Busters and played games until Tom had enough points to win a basketball. Good fun and although not strictly a cultural event, was really enjoyable.

Central Park on Saturday was great. We took the sweaty subway up to about midway through the Park. It is a very big Park. Everyone was out. On bikes, skates, skateboards, playing Basketball, playing American football, playing guitars, frisbees were flying around and the grassy hills were coated with prostrate sun bathers. It was a really cool, albeit hot, place to be. But our day was coming to an end for the Boys had to head off to the Airport.

My consolation for Saturday night and now that I was once again the Lone Ranger, with Tonto and Silver (Jon had to be one of the 3!) on their way back to the UK, was to go back to the Irish Pub for another bowl of Irish Stew, all to myself and to chat with anyone who wanted to chat.

On Sunday the heat and humidity went sky-high, but I was determined to get out to snap some photo’s and to do something a bit ‘cultural’. For photo’s I found the streets of New York with the groups of darting Yellow Cabs fascinating. It is a bit like the Red Bus thing in London and maybe the few artists who have painted scenes like these before. For real culture, I then headed off to the Museum of Modern Art or MOMA for short. The MOMA was loaded with the works of some of the 20th Centuries big name in art. I was amazed down in Fort Worth and here I was similarly aghast with both familiar names and the volume. Andy Warhol’s ‘Marilyn Munroe’ and his Cans of Campbell’s Soup paintings were some of the ones which I had seen for years on TV, but the volume and quality of the Monet’s, Picasso’s and Cezanne…wow…plus a biggy..another Van Gogh oh and, and, and…it was just like that at every turn.

Now I see these artists as poets with paintbrushes, but what I don’t get are the artists that produce things like, the Pink Plank leaning up a wall, a bicycle wheel attached to a wooden stool or the minimalist paintings of a single colour or no colour on canvas…hmm, I believe I am missing something here. I think if Michelangelo had seen such pieces he might have been inspired to white washed the Sistine Chapel ceiling, finish early and pop off for a vino.

So, amazed at both ends of the spectrum (those that respected the spectrum and those that worked off the Dulux paint fobs) I had had my cultural moment and my time in New York was complete.

And my trip out to the Airport was one of mixed feelings. The last port of call, but the thought of sleeping in my own bed. I’ll leave the balance of thought to my final Post.

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It had got to that part of the trip where I was to meet up with the boys, so my flight up from Austin was a pleasant one. Transfer from the Airport was simple and fast, but my hotel wasn’t ready. There had been a major flood on the 15th Floor so there were huge pipes dangling down the outside when I arrived. No real problem so they shipped me to a Hotel 100 yards away for the night.

So I’m in Nashville and it doesn’t disappoint, live music in the bar of even this modest hotel. The only thing I couldn’t do was unpack as I was moving again in the morning.

So after a little bitching session with the Hotel over the Boys room I was set up for their arrival which would be in the evening, Tom thinks I am moanin’ too much (I think that I’m just a bit tired from the travelling), and ready for a venture down to Broadway, the place to be for music in Nashville.

It must have been about 11am when I hit my first bar. Two guys blasting out Country on a stage and as I looked at my watch my principle of no alcohol before 12pm had to be broken. It was real foot tapping stuff! I was conscious of time and alcohol consumption but to be honest I could have stayed in there all day, but with the need to be in a good condition for the Boys arrival I called a halt at 3pm. Walking up and down Broadway which is the main street in Nashville, the music just rang out into the street and the cowgirl boots were everywhere! This is the home of Country.

I arranged the Airport shuttle bus to pick me up and he apologised that he would need to call at a few Hotels in a loop before we could get underway. I was the only one on the bus so we had a good chat from hotel to hotel, but no one got on. At each he would dart into reception do his check for passengers and run back and get off. As we got to the final one he parked behind a sister bus, ran into the hotel, ran back and then we were off. Not exactly, he had got back into the wrong bus and drove it off a 100 yards up the road until he realised that I wasnt answering his conversation. I was watching and howling with laughter at this, but so was he when he got back to me.

I was still 3 hours early for the flight as the boys were on a delayed flight from New York.

Sitting at the arrivals lounge, plane after plane was delvering those ‘home coming’ moments where Mom or Dad was being met by the kids. Great to watch. When you see this it reminds you of the opening scene from Love Actually and these great words…

“Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.”

Then my turn, I hadn’t seen Jon and Tom for 3 months and it was excellent!

It was Friday night and the Boys were frazzled from the flights and the delay, so a quick meal, a bit more Music in our own Hotel and bed.

Saturday, Tom was pinging me at 7am. Those Brits who travel to the USA are always up so early and we were out in search of breakfast almost straightaway. My plan for Nashville was to be that we would be listening to lots of country music and having a few beers. Now here are some statistics, in our party 66% like Country Music, but 100% of us tipped the musicians for the next three days. Luckily for Tom, my Country agnostic, most bars had sport on huge TV’s or he had his iPhone playing games and the US Golf Open was being played.

We wandered slowly up the bars and managed to get to about 9pm with a short break. Saturday music was excellent. The volume and quality goes up a notch. The Cowgirl boots increased and the girls got “pruddier”. Jon and I were in our sweet spot, but novices to Country compared to many of those around us. Finishing off Saturday with some good Tennessee food and a fairly early night.

Sunday was much the same but we did walk around the main highlights of downtown and toured the Country Music Hall of Fame Museum. Awesome, even for novices and very interesting. Back into the bars and a few more bands and singers that were just of excellent quality. It surprises me that TV talent shows produce average quality compared to this. Another BBQ dinner and sunday was done.

I was expecting Monday to be quiet and it was at first! The lunchtime sessions in our favourite bars, the Honky Tonk Central and Tootsie’s gave some really professional music and to think they survive on tipping is quite something. A lesser experience was the Crazy Horse, which Tom likened to a UK holiday camp, especially as lots of boot clad children learned their ‘4 step’ in the interlude. Meal done, we were off. We should have slowed down there but with Music comes liquid and more Music. Our last day was to finish with some of the finest music at Tootsie’s with a Concert style atmosphere in one of the City’s smallest but well known bars.

This was one big friendly fest with endless Country Music and most people in a similar mindset.

So that was our Nashville bit. I would definitely head back this way, especially after 66% of us invested in Cowboy Hats!

And for Tuesday, we were off to New York to take a bite out of the Big Apple. To be a slightly more sedate day as my head and definitely Jon’s were heavy with our partying of Monday.

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Well as I landed in Austin, I got a feeling of being in a different State. Girls with boots and Guys with hats. Welcome to Texas, how ya’ll doin? (How are you). My bag was quickly off the luggage belt and I was soon in the Hotel bus being accompanied by a lively Harvard Student, Taryn, who had just graduated and was moving to Austin for her first real job. She was good entertainment over a beer in the evening, as she was a mix of Chicago, Los Angeles and Boston, a keen footballer and a bright Harvard student, excellent.

Before I got into the bus I saw a vending machine in the Airport that I had never seen before, a Bouquet Machine. I had heard that Texan’s were gentlemen and knew how to treat their women just right, and they had everything at their disposal to satisfy their ladies after a flight, Yeehaw!

So the plan was that I would have a day in Austin, drive over to Dallas for a few days to meet up with some BT colleagues and to get a feel for the Texas landscape as I have done with some of the other States and then back to continue my journey from Austin Airport. For Austin, there were two things that I had on my very simple afternoon and evening agenda; 1. Music and a Beer and 2. a Steakhouse with some Texan food. Nice an easy for a scorching hot Saturday. I had done a little research on some of the popular locations, and a lot of activity happened on a main road ‘6th Street’, so I got dropped off by the Cab driver at the end of the Street and I was going to go struttin’ and listen out for the music. Well before I got struttin, I was on my knees recovering my sunglasses that I knocked off my head getting out the cab and they bounced under the car.

My first stop off was to one of the most well know Hotels in Austin, The Driskill Hotel. It is a grand old Hotel, but reputed for its music. As I entered there was a lot of activity going on in the foyer, with a huge floral decoration being constructed. I made eye contact with a Manager to make sure I was in the right place for some music. Unfortunately, not on this day. A major wedding was to take place and the party had booked out the whole hotel, but he pointed to the bar and said it was open for drinks. This was fortuitous as I meet up with a couple of delightful people, Mike who was from New Orleans and a friend of his who was showing him around town, Becky who had great Cowgirl boots and a very friendly Texan welcome. We started talking travel as usual and had a really pleasant conversion, which added another item to my agenda, “You must see the Bats, they come out every night”, yes I would. On the way out I couldn’t resist a photograph with the Boots, and Becky and of course Mike, with the flora tribute in the background. One thing I will always remember is that New Orleans has a drive-thru Margarita service. Some States just know how to party! I would catch up with them again on the Austin bridge after the Bats had flown and share a few more moments, also joined by Mike’s daughter. To me they epitomised the Southern States and something that I would experience time and time again in the next few days. They treated me like one of their friends immediately and I appreciated it too, so if they are reading, thanks guys and I hope we meet up again one day.

With one beer inside me to get the limbs moving I did a quick tour of the bars and the sounds coming out onto the streets. Sometimes you can’t work out whether a bar has live music or just that they are playing good music. So, being polite, as I walked in on the first bar and the band was not yet on, I just took in another bottle and chewed the fat with others around the bar. But as you sit and sip, you then see movement and hear sounds that pin point the live music in other bars as most have large open windows and doors. So, my next 3 bars were spot on and the changing musicians were good too, playing a range of things from Country, Honky Tonk, Blues and Rock. Simple surrounds, a few choice of beers and everyone listening to the band. Perfect. And with a few odd characters that have probably been roadies in their times, where the afternoons drinking probably started the night before. This was exactly what I was looking for. No. 1, tick.

Now before I had too much beer, I had to eat and with some guidance I was pointed to a restaurant a few blocks away called ‘Moonshine’, a steakhouse. When in Rome?

After choosing a nice steak, the order came and with the normal sides of Sweet Potatoes and a number of tasty but unhealthy fried things etc, but I was asked if I needed anything else. Yes, can I have some English Mustard. Sorry we don’t carry that. Do you have Horseradish? Yes! and off the girl trots to the kitchen to return with a small bowl of shredded dry horse radish, just like you would with grated carrot. A bit odd, but as I had asked for it I mixed some mayo in with it and ate it. The Steak was as soft as warm toffee and full of flavour.

As I got outside the sun was beating down, so there was only one thing to do and that was to find another bar and another band. In the next one, I had a chat with a girl who was playing beer pong with her friend and we struck up a conversation over Texas, travel and why here?. The usual Texan warm greeting, but as she went off she gave me a hug (all Texan’s have been hugging me, I could get use to that) and said “can I just ask one more thing hanging on the English accent, “can you say F***, S*** and A*** ?” Not being one to be unfriendly I did, she laughed out loud and left. Bizarre but another friendly Texan repaid in kind.

By 7.30pm I noticed the sun dropping so headed to the Bridge a short walk away to see the Bats. The viewers started to mount and after an hour it was dark. Boats had been congregating under the bridge too with lots of twitchers (I assume like bird watchers, although they could have been Bat Men and Women). I couldn’t see anything for a few minutes until a lad by the side of me pointed to an area where they were passing by a little light and there were thousands, tiny, but in masses. So number 3 completed, I walked back up with my new New Orlean friends of earlier and then back onto 6th Street. Wow, how it had transformed. There must have been 10 times the people and 5 times the volume and choice booming out onto the Street. I lasted for about an hour and called it a night. Austin is a cool City and maybe a taste for what we might get in Nashville.

Sunday I arranged a car and headed for Dallas. First mistake, I should have flown. I think it was a Chris Rea song that said that Texas had ‘roads went on forever’ and how right he was. Dallas, and I would find Fort Worth, is one big road works and an amazing complex of Freeways that travel up into the skies at any opportunity (not sure if they always come down). I would love to be the man who supplies the concrete. However, my 3 hour trip took 5 and a half hours and the views from the main route the I35 gave away nothing of Texas as it is so flat and a simple tree line hid everything. Funny though, when I got to Dallas and the inner city Freeways took over I had a perverse excitement of being on some of the overpasses, as it was ‘America’ and their love of Cars is clearly shown here. I think that a small economy engine would serve to run the air conditioning in some of the Texan Gas guzzler trucks that bullied the roads.

I forgot to add that I had Sat Nav, which was as useful as a Pork Chop at a Bar Mitzfah. It wasn’t until late on the second day that I saw the settings were wrong and it was not taking me the quickest route, but even with that corrected it could not cope with the roadworks.

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Monday I headed in a round about way to the centre of Dallas to see the JFK Museum which superbly articulated the events of his death in 1963. I have to say that this is one that I find hard to use any humour, as is my usual style. Sue and I used to talk about JFK, as it was the first thing that emotionally moved her when she was 5 years old. I didn’t have the perspective of the build up to being president and what happened that day, but the museum did that. To see the video footage and then walk out into the road where it happened and see the building and maybe the grassy knoll where he was assassinated is quite something. And his history as a sponsoring president to real improvements in and outside of the America was remarkable and probably sealed his fate.

After a short interlude for a Mexican lunch, I headed to the Information Centre for some advice of what to look at in Dallas. It was 97F outside so I only wanted a couple of ideas, but a studious Information Assistant flattened out a map and started circling things. Just for context, Texas is the land of Republicans (JFK was a Democrat) but they have had a couple of notable Presidents from the Bush Family. So the Texan assistant rings a circle around a building and says “this is the New President George Bush Library, it is new so we haven’t got any leaflets yet, but (writing down the address for me) if you want to go on the internet for details, type in Dubya, Dubya, Dubya dot…”. I said that that was quite ironic and started laughing, but she didn’t quite understand my humour, so I bit my lip and sunk my head in shame.

I did whiz around the Old Courthouse Museum to get a sense of the Dallas and Texas origins and its famous and infamous people, just see the photos. Norah Jones who has been one of my travelling companions in my earphones grew up in Texas and is the daughter of Ravi Shankar. All very interesting and giving me a bit of context of this amazing State and the people.

That evening I caught up with a work colleague Kathy and her husband Jim as we shared a very lovely evening of travel stories and food and a Steak which took me twice as long to eat than them as I was in talking mode. As we left the restaurant Kathy handed me an Apple Pie that she had promised me 6 months ago which was to serve as my breakfast the next day…delicious. America, Texas, Apple Pie? what more…

Next day, at the advice of Kathy and Jim I headed for the more cultural bit of Texas, Fort Worth and a couple of few museums.

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The second museum was the Kimbell Art Museum and wow. When I entered it was just like many other galleries, but as I went up to one of the first pieces on the wall I did a double take of the artist. It was by Michelangelo. He only painted 4 pieces and this Museum owned the only one in the USA. But as I started walking around, the names just rolled off one after the other. Monet, Cezanne, Rembrandt and one in particular Eduard Munch! But the gallery was very laid back with Curators giving guidance, not just securing the paintings and sculptures. Oh and I missed the Picasso’s and the Caneletto. This was really an amazing gallery.

From this to a quick hop across town to the Stockyards. Fort Worth is a Cattle settlement and this is an area of preservation to the cowboy and cow town. Sitting on a saddle seat in a saloon takes you back, for me back to a holiday two years ago in Jackson, Wyoming, where Jon and I drank amongst the Bikers.

With all of the Cities in Texas I have really just skimmed the surface. Next time I am here I will spend a lot more time to get to see and know the place.

I raced back to my Hotel and then back to the BT Office in Irving to meet up with another colleague, Vance. The roadworks were horrendous and the Sat Nav was just playing with me. At one point by the Dallas-Forth Worth Airport, I found myself on the edge of the airfield watching the planes landing and my Sat Nav showed a Car in a Green Field. I high tailed out of there before the homeland security people joined me.

Vance took me out to a Texas BBQ restaurant, Lockhart’s, in the burbs somewhere, where the beef brisket was just awesome. Sadly I couldn’t finish the brisket that was recommended or the Smokey Beans and Pickles so took a doggy bag for breakfast. That was to be one of the nicest breakfasts (The smokey beans with pulled meat and chillies was incredible) I have had in years and finished off with the last mouthful of Home Made Apple Pie…God Bless America…In Calories We Trust.

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So, that was me done for my time in Texas, but I had one last stop off on the way back to Austin. In the Man versus Food TV programmes, Adam Rickman visited a Donut shop in Texas and tried some fresh, melt-in-your-mouth, donuts. Enter, the ‘Round Rock Donut House’. The staff were amazed that I had heard about the place in the UK, but Jon and Tom will know it from the repeats that we see. And the Donuts…Two Round Rock Caramelised, one Baverian Eclair with Chocolate and the same without Chocolate. They were fresh and warm and did exactly what Adam said, they melted in my mouth as I ate all 4 before hitting the road again.

So how can I sum up Texas? The Hospitality was as warm as the Sun and the Girls were as sweet as the Donuts. I would like a superlative for the Cow Girl boots, but they will just have to stay in my head. I will be back again to excess in some of this again!!!

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Let me start my introduction to Boston with the Ladies of Mike’s Pastry on Hanover St in the ‘little Italy, North End’ district of Boston who summed up the City for me inside 20 minutes, Welcoming, Friendly, Sweet Product and beyond my expectation, and the Cannoli just like their hospitality was excellent, thanks Girls! And thanks for the education that a ‘Flat White’ is a Can of Paint in Boston!!

Well Boston is where our American colonial demise kicked off, so I had to make my way to see what we did and do a bit of history digging. I would imagine that any 7 year old american would out-do my incredible depth and knowledge of the events, so in case I ever meet a child in a head to head quiz I was adamant that I should be a bit more learned.

The flight up from Phoenix was delayed by an hour but generally uneventful. My successful use of airmiles has saved me an absolute bundle of money in the USA but I wasn’t feeling guilty being in First Class and letting the Patriots (the name for those that didn’t want British Rule) sit at the back of the plane. There is a lot of legal stuff surrounding the independence of the USA, but one point that I had remembered from business school was Cavaet Emptor (buyer beware) but as I like to think of it, ‘nothing comes without a little bit of pain’. Where was I, oh yes, reclining in my big seat in First Class!

On booking this leg of the trip I had left it really late and as there were lots of events going on in Boston, I couldn’t get a room in the City itself so had to go for one that was about 15 minutes by subway and a 10 minute walk.

My idea of education was going to come from a Tour, but this time on foot rather than on a bus. I slept in a bit as I was suffering with a little jet lag (poor thing you say?) and I had stuffed myself on a really thick Lobster Bisque in the Hotel with some Sweet Potato chips the night before. Boston is all about lobster, so I am going have to sample dishes a few times while I am here.

I like directions when they work and the one to the Subway to get into Boston given by the hotel was spot on and the ticket machine was quite simple to navigate, a good job as there were no staff there to help me anyway. The bit I didn’t know was where I actual was. I was staying at a Hotel called ‘Adams’ in Quincy and the Subway Map had 3 Stations, Quincy, North Quincy and Quincy Adams, but the platform didn’t have a name plate that I could see. This would be important information for getting home, so I wouldn’t leave it too late. Turns out that I was in North Quincy through a bit of luck after spotting a restaurant I’d past on my walk to the station.

Anyway…to my tour. The subway dropped me right in the Centre of Boston and next to a large tourist office. A large Afro-American guy was outside bellowing out about a tour in full period costume, who was to be my Guide and an excellent one at that. He positioned his ethnic roots in perfect detail and his character as a part of the real story of Boston and his age of some 250 years old. He led a group of about 25 of us through the streets with lots of humour and reference to my representing the problem side of the equation (there were 3 Brits). We stopped off at points to fuel the story of the British settling and governance of the colony and the events that produced the split and the signing of the declaration of independence. This is the whole reason why the Americans celebrate Independence Day on the 4th of July each year and the British celebrate Good Riddence Day (only kidding, these people were all British and some of the things that they were disputing then are still issues today).

The main characters from Boston that coordinated the freedom bid, were John Hancock (wealthy businessman), Samuel Adams (I have always associated with beer), Paul Revere (whose picture is on the bottles of Samuel Adams beer), John Adams (a lawyer and second cousin of Samuel), James Otis (a lawyer), Thomas Jefferson (another ‘lawyer’, getting to spot the trouble makers?) and Benjamin Franklin (who dropped out of school and then illegally dropped out of his contract as an apprentice and buggered off to Philadelphia (the place not the cheese). At this stage of the story I don’t think Franklin is going to do much with his life. So are you all with me so far?, we had the British governing the Colonies out here, Massachusetts (where Boston sits) being one and you had the Patriots, the ones above who didn’t like being governed or taxed.

Now let’s see what the rub is. The British Empire is at war (French again) and provides protection for its Colonies. So at this stage everyone in the Colonies was founded on the settlers and is therefore also British, or predominantly British. What the government wants is tax to pay for its empire protection duties and the Colonies aren’t paying any. The antagonists are wealthy and don’t want to pay tax. Now a clever dude, James Otis, comes out with a rallying speech “no taxation without representation is tyranny!” and this speech rallied a ‘bugger off’ message to the British Government. Not sure that 7 year olds are taught this version at school but I think us adults need to have it in an easy language to understand. It also coincided with a few skermishes initiated by Patriots against the British Soldiers looking after the Colony in which 5 of them came second in a fight with a musket ball. So, the British are the bad guys and the Patriots are the good guys. Funny that the Patriots version of the skermish events is slightly different.

Now as with any afray, the rich people stay at arms length and keep their names well away from trouble, but sponsor a group of villains to bully their message to the British, the ‘Sons of Liberty’. In pressing of a tax on a shipment of tea, the British boats are attacked by the Sons’ and the cargo poured into the Boston Harbour (the Boston Tea Party). Although I personally think that all tea should be dropped into the sea, the British Government sent troops to Boston to settle the issue and to give them a bit of a leathering.

So, there is no golden ark full of Mason treasure, Tom Hanks has yet to be signed for the Movie and Mel Gibson is taking language classes to sound like a Patriot Brit rather than a Patriot Scot. What they did have though was a cunning plan! Paul Revere had arranged riders to be sent when the British were coming on the signal of the hanging of one or two lanterns on a Church Steeple. The story goes ‘One if by land and Two if by sea’, seems that everything was put to poetry at the time and Paul Revere was really well known after a verse of a poem of the events ‘The Ride’. This is probably also why Revere is the picture on the bottle of Sam Adams Beer (see it rhymes, Revere…Beer).

Well, the short of it was that the British took a bit of a beating, then realised that this is a long term plan that the Patriots have and backed off. Thomas Jefferson drafted the Declaration of Independence and 52 leading figures signed it….yes, History set. The American Colonies become the United States of America, they shoot lots of their own presidents, we become good buddies oh and as of today they have a tax shortfall of 640 Billion dollars. The tax on the tea that brought this to a head was 33 Thousand dollars. History lesson over.

The walking tour was great and I have to say that Boston is a cool city, that unusually does not have a Ferris Wheel.

So from this deep history to a shallower bit of tourism and the second most important fact about Boston, the Cheers Bar. There are two. I visited the Replica at Quincy Market to get rehydrated after the tour walk. At this stage I was joined at the bar by the two other Brits who had walked the city and heard how bad we were. Enter Sarah and Rhys from Yorkshire. A really enjoyable night and great company. My one drink stretched to 5 pints of Samuel Adams, which surprisingly didn’t leave a bitter taste in my mouth. The walk to the Original Building bar would have to wait.

What a day and a nice introduction to Boston. I was expecting something quite different, more working city than tourist spot. Plus I had another bowl of Lobster Bisque in there famous food court in Quincy Market, what could be better?

In the next days I strolled around to take in central Boston and retraced the route that our Guide had given to get some photo’s of the City. A trip around the harbour to get the water bit of the British demise also added a perspective.

So how was my History? I am sure I got some things slightly out of context, but I hope that my British followers are now a little more educated than they were before. Oh and why are there lots of Irish and Italians here? Potato Famine in Ireland and Poverty in Southern Italy and they all jumped on a boat to Boston. However with this comes good food and great people and my search for a good Cannoli was found at Mike’s Pastry. A Cannoli is a curl of sweet pastry that is filled with sweet ricotta cheese and sometimes dipped in other great things to produce a lovely morning dessert…or afternoon…or evening.

I haven’t observed many Irish people other than loads of Bars carrying a shamrock, but going through Little Italy in the North End today, I could have been on the set of The Soprano’s.

So I have skimmed the cream on the top of Boston and found that it is a place of note and somewhere to come back. Thanks Boston.

I leave behind me the history of USA governance and tomorrow head for Texas and trips to Austin and Dallas (oh that one has a bit of history too, I forgot), catch you’ll soon!

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Stepping off the plane at Phoenix and you have an absolute baptism of fire (well heat). It’s dry and hot in this part of the world but even though I have experienced Phoenix before it doesn’t prepare you for the blast as you leave the airport building.

I headed over to the Car Hire company in the air conditioned bus, but everyone was talking about the heat. Surprising really, being that they get over 320 days of sunshine a year and it always gets hot around June 1. After picking up the wrong car up in the garage (it was the same model and colour, rather than a me moment) I was on the road and heading out of Phoenix on the freeway. The local radio was on and they were talking about the next 4 days of heat. Today is wednesday and it is 98F outside. On Saturday and Sunday they are expecting 111F. Listening to the local TV channels, they are as pathetic as our own channels when it gets to practicalities. Friday night, “Phoenix is going to be hitting 110F this weekend and we have got a couple of ideas for you to take the family, the Phoenix Water Park”. Saturday night, “We may get to the record 111F on Sunday, so our advice is, if you don’t need to go out, don’t!”. If anyone is reading in Arizona, invite your reporters to send in their resumes to the BBC. No, I am not moanin’ it’s just that TV people are shallow.

I have 140 miles to drive to get to my Hotel in Flagstaff, but the first 10 is still grinding its way out of Phoenix and the afternoon traffic. After that you get a sense of where you are. You’re in the Desert and there are traditional looking cactus everywhere, like unattached fenceposts dotted everywhere you can see. The drive is great though as the land goes up and down and there are mountains and valleys to keep you occupied and to focus you driving on the wrong side of the road. I’m sure driving wasn’t like this when we let go of the colony 200 some years ago. The other amazing thing was the change in landscape inside the 2 hour drive. You pass through Desert, to green scrub land and then to dense green forest as you get close to Flagstaff, which faces the Mountains. The land also rises to 7000 feet above sea level, so the temperature shaves a bit to a cool 75F. It’s still hot though as today there isn’t a major cloud in the sky.

Next day was a lazy day, which I caught up on blogging and laundry and looked out at the heat from the bar rather than venturing out. I did do an amble of 2 miles around the local forest as I felt guilty, saw more nature, Prairie Dogs, Red Squirrels, Some Blue birds and a Girl on a Bike!

Next day, off for a tour around Sedona. Sedona is a beautiful desert town with some rugged mountains of red and light brown rock. A bit like Uluru’s rock in the Red Centre, but shaped by passing water over the billions of years and the lines in the rock (the sedimentary layers I believe) go horizonal, where the Aussie one’s go vertical. The interesting thing is that Sedona is a thriving town in the middle of the rocks. You will see from the pictures that they must get water from somewhere as there is still a lot of green around. The entrance to Sedona is through a winding mountain road through the forests and you repeatedly get glimpses of high peaks and lows creeks that are impossible to photograph by myself in the car. I am trying my hardest to stay on the right hand side of the road.

The town is a low level (building height, land is at 7000 feet) high street which has side roads that go up to the feet of the mountains. It is as if they had designed the town and then put the rocks in to compliment it. This is ‘cowboy country’ to me, the sort where the pioneeering wranglers goes across the desert in search of steer, they run out of water, shoot the donkey and then get an arrow in the back. A bit like corporate life really!

I toured around taking photo’s and just staring. I did stop off at one church, the chapel of the Holy Cross, which is built into the mountain and lit a candle for Sue, as I thought she would have liked this one. But in places like Sedona where the temperature must have been 95F today, the flowers are still blooming and the trees are in leaf. I’m getting a bit like David Attenborough.

I’m staying in Flagstaff which is a small town off Route 66 at a motel-like hotel, ‘The Little America’. It occupies a big plot of land, but instead of going upwards, its goes along. The feel I got for the hotel was when I walked into their reception, was one of a 1950’s hollywood set for a Bing Crosby movie. Soft furnishings, bold rock brickwork and lots of wood. It really was a cozy place to stay and the people were friendly. Now some were friendlier than others. As part of their complex they also had a Truckers park and the characters came into the Hotel bar each evening. Some where definitely quick talkers with the local ladies (although there were very few unattached women). The stories they struck up were funny though, recounting particular routes, home states, estranged wives, and lots of tall stories. Somehow, it seemed the clientele suited the place. Seeing the efforts of one driver on a local being wasted was hilarious to watch, as he bullshitted his way into a nose spin. Good fun.

So back to the sight seeing. My aim for this part of the trip was to see the Grand Canyon, so I headed out on the indirect of the two routes available which took me though mile after mile of grass land, forest and desert. You wouldn’t think you could get this all at once but you do. All I could think over was Cowboys and Indians as the openings between the trees (long and wide) were a fitting scene for a horse chase. It was a pleasant drive and with my Country albums banging out for 2 hours each way it was a very relaxing transit. So what of the Grand Canyon?…Really Awesome!

I don’t know what I was expecting as TV and photo’s never really give you the depth and the feeling of being there. I got out at the Visitor Centre and made a few hundred yards walk to the first observation point. You are going up a slight incline so don’t see a thing but blue sky until you get to the last 20 feet and then !!!!! wow! This is really massive and the cuts in the ground go on for as far as the eye can see. It is so big that you don’t know where to point your camera. And the colours! When we talk about wonders of the world the natural ones take some beating. The Colorado River has cut lines in the rocks for 2 Billion Years. When you see the slither of River now against the deep groves and hundreds of miles of canyon ??..now that’s a wonder! I walked for about 2 kilometres across the south rim, but it was hot, just short of 95F and I could feel my arms sizzling. My head was fine as I had my Aussie Jackaroo hat to give a little shade, but I was heating up.

For the right side views of the Canyon, I got back into the car and the air conditioning and drove the 25 miles to various scenic points, each different to the last, but I think it will be a hard one to explain to the folks back home. All I will say is, come out to this one and see it for yourselves (and Sedona).

I have about 200 photos of various angles, but I think my favourite is a young couple that I spotted that had walked out on one of the ledges and sat down with their feet dangling over the edge. This gives you the real perspective. I was thinking of setting up my tripod and walking out there myself, but once one person has done it I don’t think it would have been fair to mimic their adventure.

So that was about it for Arizona, other than to drive back through the immense scenery once more to Phoenix Airport. And I can tell you that Country music sounds even sweeter when you are looking out at this stuff. Try a bit of Luke Bryan to these photo’s, believe me, honest!

And for Phoenix, as I waited for a shuttle bus back at the Airport it was 106F in the shade!

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“…be sure to wear some flowers in your hair”

Well that is the most famous song about San Francisco and a global anthem for the Hippy trail in the 60’s. Peace man, ban the bomb, free love, legalise drugs and wear what you feel. History right?..yeh right, it’s all still living right here in this amazing City

The flight up from Los Angeles wasn’t too late, so I caught the train into the centre of the City. I once again had low intelligence for the best place to stay so I went for a brand that I had used in Tokyo and the services description seemed right. I saw it was 2 blocks one way and 2 blocks in another from the central station called ‘Powell Street’, so easy to find. The only problem with that is that when you come out of a Station, you don’t know what side of the road you are on and you can’t see Street signs because there are so many signs. As I came out the Station, I was hit with Buskers and Beggars which is part of the scene in downtown San Francisco. I headed up a main thoroughfare for 2 minutes before spotting someone who looked like a tourist information guide. Actually he looked like Shaggy off Scooby Doo, but he was helpful to give me a very direct line in the opposite direction to where I was walking. I’ve always been pretty good at math. If you walk 2 blocks in the wrong direction and 2 more then in a square, if you are totally wrong, you then have to walk 4 blocks in the opposite direction and 4 in a square to get you to the destination. That means that you might walk 12 blocks, when you wanted to do 4… Still with me? Direction, as in life, is everything!

As directed I found the Hotel on the corner of a block, which was as I had expected and the right quality. I wasn’t into venturing out this evening as I had no real bearings and I was approached by about 10 beggars on the way to the hotel. Not only that, I was to find out that the area is full of Wacky people (probably political incorrect, but accurate I assure you). My safe haven for the evening was the Hotel’s cocktail bar and a leisurely chat with the bar staff of what ‘Frisco had to offer.

One thing I noticed was how long daylight time there was here. It didn’t go dark until 8.30pm, which is the lightest evening I have seen since August last year. What that means is that you have more tourist hours that you can use if you want to.

So next morning, I caught up with the Rarotonga blog and posted some pictures of the fish etc over a USA tradition of a cup of Starbuck’s coffee. I caught up with a couple of brothers who were travelling after doing their studies and we had a really pleasant discussion of travelling and direction. I am finding that young and old share this same conversation point.

As a quick venture out I ‘retraced’ my steps of yesterday evening (left out of the Hotel Door and a couple of blocks back) back to the Tram turning point. Hmm, that corner looks a bit different and I can’t see any trams, but there are lots of people lying out on the ground or hanging out in groups. It seems I was a bit different for the area. People were walking by talking to themselves. Halt, 180 degree turn and back into the hotel.

The weather wasn’t that good, cold, rain in the air and it was grey with odd break of light sky, but I decide to have a Tourist Bus ride to see the whole city and in the right direction. My Concierge helped me, so I asked a final question. “are there areas I should avoid?” He started shading in a number of blocks on the map to make a rectangle. “Yes, if you turn left out of the hotel and cross the road…you don’t want to be there”. Turning right was fine! Got it!!

With that bearing I was now on the game and I would have caught a Cable Car to my next destination up the hill (San Francisco is amazingly hilly) but at that time the Cable broke down and the Cars started queuing up at the terminus, however a little walk was good. It’s a Public Holiday today and there are lots of people about, so it feels like a Saturday. At every corner there are beggars or musicians, some claiming to be war veterans, some just wanting money. One sign of a lady just said ‘Pregnant, Stressed Out, need money’. The tour guide later would point to a fact of why these people head to San Francisco. First the weather here is a temperate climate all year around and if you can show an address in SF you get free healthcare. Buskers also earn between 30 and 60 thousand dollars a year. Plus there is a constant smell of ‘grass’ in the air, so I guess they have a lot of ‘gardeners’, dig what I mean dude?

As you move away from Downtown it gets a bit saner. On the tour bus, we made our way around a circle of the City including a good viewing point for the Golden Gate Bridge, a ride across the Bridge and a second viewing point for those memorable photo’s. The City has an amazing contrast of weather. Temperature, moisture, wind etc Well the Bridge was whited out by fog, even very close up. As you moved into the bay, you could see clearly across the water. It was as though there was a big net catching all the sea mist and holding it around the bridge.

So, tour done and a little lunch (a juicy steak that the Guide had recommended), I continued to walk higher up the hills to get a few photo’s of the wavy slopes and at the top of one high point, I dodged the low level traffic to get a shot down hill, just as a fellow traveller was also contemplating the same shot. We struck up the usual ‘job break-travel’ chat and it seemed we had some common travel stories. The traveller was ‘Olivia’ from London who was a welcome smiling face on a greyish afternoon. Olivia was traveling through and only in SF for the day and flew back to the UK the next day. We walked and talked as we headed back towards downtown and I gave her my warnings of ‘no go zones’, but as it felt like a Saturday afternoon I thought that a glass or two of wine might be in order. Well, Olivia was aiming to get to China Town, which we did in theory as we got to a French restaurant and bar right across the road from its Welcome Gate. We chatted our available tourist time away on a myriad of topics, some where we both at times lost the plot of the conversations. We chatted through the afternoon and stayed on for Dinner as well, until all the other guests had gone and the waitress said that she needed to leave too. It was a lovely day and I really thought her company was charming. I can apologise to her now for using up her day in the Restaurant and missing her tour of China Town and the rest of San Francisco. (Olivia, I have put a shot of the Hill and the China Town gate on the page in case you wanted it!)

So, on to my second and final day I headed up to the Cable Car to have the ride over to the Wharf. It is a really cool City, with quaint pastel colour buildings. I jumped off at the intersection with the ‘Crookiedest Street’ (Lombard St) for photo’s and then into Fisherman’s Wharf for a well earned Crab Bisque in a Loaf which I tucked in before thinking of the photo.

My prime objective for the afternoon was to take a shot of the Bridge from a suitable harbour point, as it is the icon of the City (apart from Weirdo’s, wacky backy and flip flops). As I ambled around Aquatic Park, a harbour ring-fenced by a circular quay, I spotted in the distance one of the large America’s Cup sailing boats out in the Bay. They quickly go out of sight as they tack across from side to side. I was standing next to a couple of people as this was happening and the lady pointed out towards the bridge and said she thought it was coming. You could see a feint twig on the horizon and then as it turned, you could see how big and fast this thing was. There were two boats about 10 minutes apart and they were flying. They have aqua-foils on the hulls that lift the boat out of the water. Absolutely incredible! Further on I caught up with a couple of sailing fans who had their camera’s at the ready for another sail-by. It wasn’t to happen, but we chatted and laughed for about an hour and a half about anything and nothing. What I hadn’t realised was that I was pointing straight at the sun. I would later find out that my biggest tan of the trip was happening, or reddening to be exact.

Before I headed back to the return cable car, I returned to the wharf for some more seafood. This time a plate of a dozen oysters, 10 of which were good, and a basket of fried prawns which were really juicy. This was again a nice day and I had been distracted differently today by the sight of a beautiful boat in the right setting.

So I have enjoyed my stay although I still think that they have some wacky people.

Onwards to Phoenix and Arizona, where the temperature will change again by at least 40 degrees fahrenheit.