Verse 8: The Santa Barbara Cruise

We arrived in balmy Santa Barbara early evening under a cloak of star studded darkness. The nice lady in the SatNav box led us expertly to the door of our second couchsurfing hosts, Mark and Jen. There's always a moment of nervous anticipation as you stand on the doorstep of complete strangers waiting for them to open it up and welcome you in... imagine if they open the door and take one look at you and say 'maybe not' or what if they are completely psychotic, or even worse, they have a collection of old china dolls in a room full of ticking clocks and clown masks... and you have to sleep in it. (Mr B just broke into a cold sweat). Well thankfully that hasn't happened to us yet and everyone we have stayed with and everyone we have hosted has been really lovely and all very different.

So Jen and Mark's place was a south Cal version of a Mexican adobe, a one storey bungalow with a driveway and a back yard and lots of cactii and interesting but dangerous looking plants in the well tended front garden. Very nice. We were welcomed in by Jen and their two beautiful little twin girls who we never got a photo of :-( and then Mark arrived home from work and we all had a jolly laugh and a refreshing beer from a Santa Barbara microbrewery. Mark told us that the US is now full of great microbreweries which challenge the assumption that all US beer is mostly pig swill. We agree. Mark also collects Mexican Day of the Dead things.

We soon realised that this was going to be a very comfortable couch surfing experience. The main house (yes I said main house) was really nice, wooden floors, loads of interesting things to look at, books, music and then we were shown to our guest suite, a converted room next to the garage, complete with double bed, throws, a TV, a laptop, a shower-room, heater and more interesting books (Mr B read a big Gary Larson comic book on the loo for the duration of our stay here).

After another beer and a glass of wine with Mark and Jen we headed out for dinner at a Vietnamese place round the corner called Saigon In and Out, which sounds like a title for an interesting movie. Fairly cheap, around $25 for a starter and two main courses, which were delicious and highly spiced with tongue tingling chilli.

 

Despite appearances these are spring rolls - not the MSG laden deep fried kind we are used to but a cold, fresh explosion of tiger prawns, shredded carrot and lettuce, coriander and lime juice wrapped in a delicate leaf of moist rice paper, served with a moorish peanut sauce. They were really good.  

  

After our spicy and delicious main course we wandered home and sat with Mark and Jen, had another glass of wine and got the USA map out and talked about Santa Barbara, the weather, routes and roadtrips and travelling... then we all yawned a lot and we said good night to our gracious hosts. Off to bed.

Zzzzzzzzzzz. We woke up around 8am and headed into the kitchen to say hello to Jen who had made us a pot of coffee. Scoffed down a bowl of Quaker Oatmeal with cinnamon and apples, which we forgot to photograph. Jen kindly offered us their spare beach cruiser bikes so Mr B got busy giving them a service, well he pumped up the tryres. And off we went to explore Santa Barbara on four wheels. 

Did we mention that the temperature was over 20 degrees C?

 

Brace yourself for another great nature photo: 

 

There are several pelicans chilling out on the lagoon, can you see them? 

Somehow we managed not to take many photos in Santa Barbara, the bikes were too fun. I was wearing red stilletoes and these are not known for being sensible footwear for a bike that you have to back pedal in order to brake, before scraping your feet along the ground in order to bring it to a complete standstill.  We rode around and checked out some nice looking buildings including Old Mission and some downtown area buildings. 

We took the bikes onto the pier and parked up. There was a sign at the entrance saying 'No  high heels' heels'. Oh well, Mrs B kept her weight on the balls of her foot so that her heels didn't get caught in the gaps between the wooden planks, she's well practised at these things. We fended off the boisterous seagulls and greedy pigeons, watched the Pelicans flying low over the water and sniffed out lunch on the pier from the take out hatch at Santa Barbara Shellfish Co. We settled down on a bench table to a cup of lobster bisque and a really seriously stuffed and succulent crab sandwich. All of which tasted even better thanks to the sea air, the view, the warm sun and the company.

 

 

...and I forgot about the huge onion ring, that was good too. 

We also got a little lost in several fascinating junk shops. For a start they are all huge and labyrinthian with all the good stuff jumbled up with all the utter toss (the latter often being the more fascinating and informative of a culture). These are like ramshackle museums of the everyday detritus of life.

Santa Barbara is quite small, very affluent, laid back, pretty and very fit. Everyone was slim. Lots of people jogging, jogging with dogs, jogging with buggies, jogging with lovers, jogging with parents, mainly jogging... perhaps a little cycling, rollerblading or skating as well. Because we thought you might actually want to see what Santa Barbara is like rather than just seeing what we ate, here are some pictures we didn't take - each picture is a direct link to the website of origin.

  

 

 

 

  

And here is our offering:

  

A banana and blueberry waffle with ice cream and a coffee at Jitters Coffee on State Street (where most of the shops, cafes, cinema etc can be found) 

 

and a blurry vintage shop called Cominichis - check it out on street view on Google Maps, 434 E Cota St Santa Barbara... just because you can. It was huge and Mrs B bought a red 60s coat. She definitely needed another coat. We thought we had better take a photo before it got dark. Useless.

We cycled back home through the rush hour traffic, with no lights. It was a little hairy.  Got back to our cosy abode and Mr B did some important internet stuff while Mrs B walked to the local supermarket, thankfully not a huge megastore, just a normal size local store, lots of exotic fruits and mexican food,  piled high, cheap and busy. Mrs B stocked up on items for the road trip - food and water, wet wipes (very handy) and stuff that Americans call butter. 

Mrs B sat with Mark and Jen in the main house chewing the cud and getting tips for the roadtrip. We forgot to photograph dinner, which was two over priced organic pizzas from the supermarket, which were the only thing Mr B could find when he realised he couldn't pay with card at the Mexican take away.

Food over we all settled in to watch 500 Days of Summer, a US inde movie, staring Zoey Deschanel and the kid from 3rd Rock from the Sun, but grown up, as he should be. It was a love story with a real ending and a quirky narrative structure - this sounds lame, but it was good, mildly funny and completely inoffensive, we weren't bored and the soundtrack stimulated an enthusiastic conversation about late 80s UK indie music and early 90s American indie rock. Mark got his guitar out and tried to work out how to play Here Comes Your Man by The Pixies. Which coincidentally was the song that we were singing as we drove into Santa Barbara the previous evening.

 

Because we had decided to do the mammoth drive to Grand Canyon in one day, we had an early start in the morning. So we did a group photo and said good bye to Jen as she would be sound asleep when we left at 6am, then we stumbled off to our bed in the back.

Tomorrow the serious driving will begin.

Verse 9: Santa Barbara to the Grand Canyon - Part 1

DRRRRRRRRRRRRRINNNNNNGGGGGGGGGGGG

DRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGGG

DRRRRRRRRRR *****BANG*****

6am in the morning and time to rise and shine ready for our 600 mile 11 hour drive! For us folk that live on the teeny tiny British Isles, that's like waking up in the morning at Land's End in Cornwall and thinking 'mmm I fancy driving to Dundee in Scotland today, just for the fun of it!'

So up for coffee and goodbyes with Mark (being a teacher he always has to head out early).  In our state of fuzzy headed early mornign confusion we had to content with our first petrol station fill up of the trip. Pay at the kiosk before filling up. Mrs B asked the clerk to put $100 on the pump and got a funny look from Tony (that's what it said on his name tag)... in the UK that would be about right to fill up the tank, of course we are in the US where petrol is at least three times cheaper, Tony suggested $40 and he was right. Cheap, very... but this doesn't come without a price that has to be paid elsewhere.

Heading out of Santa Barbara as the sun was rising was a lovely idea, despite the bleary, sleep infested eyes. 

We drove along the highway parallel to the Pacific Ocean and were treated to the sight of dolphins playing in the surf, even Mr B saw them although he was at the wheel... sorry no photo this time, you just can't capture every moment but as we drove Mrs B decided to scribble down notes in our little red book. Every now and then we managed to stop and snap a photo or catch a passing landscape through the lens. But mostly we were happy to sit back and soak up the incredible landscape.

And it goes a little something like this...

Sunrise over the mountains to the east (above), silver ocean to the west, dolphins in the rolling California surf. Surfers.

Trailer parks lining Highway 101 towards LA, grim, run down. 7.24am, starting to see the LA traffic now. Miles and miles of polytunnels flanking the freeway around Ventura, growing who knows what. Breakfast stop at Coco's, a Californian diner chain, too tired to make a note of where, but somewhere before LA. Mrs B took a nap in our booth and then we ate a huge breakfast!

Guns 'n' Roses on the radio just north of LA 'Welcome to the Jungle', could there be a more appropriate song? Listening to 100.3FM The Sound: Tom Petty, JJ Cale's Cocaine, Smashing Pumpkins, Bob Marley, Hendrix... a true LA soundtrack.

Hit the five lane freeway that skirts round LA, views of LA from the Pasadena highway.  A layer of smog hanging in the air like a thick blanket.

East on to Highway 10 and entering the Low Desert plains heading towatds Twentynine Palms and the northern reaches of Joshua Tree national park. Hundreds of wind turbines.

 

  

  

Off Highway 10 and onto Twentynine Palms highway, blue skies, snow capped mountains and desert. Joshua Trees (which are actually giant yucca plants - agaves -not trees) cropping up all over the place once we got near Yucca Valley and Twentynine Palms. Dusty low lying towns spread out along the highway. Fast food chains, knife shops, Indian craftshops, tourist information, dust, Joshua trees, rocks.

Passed Kickapoo (best name yet), a town in Yucca Valley.

Popped into a HUGE Wal-mart in Yucca to grab a cool bag for all our roadtrip food. Parked next to a car that Mr B would gladly have swapped the Nissan Maxima (looking drab in the background) for this matt black and lime green beauty:

Just before Twentynine Palms we did a quick detour off the main road into Indian Cove campground, a rocky wonderland of towering rock formations with a campsite snuggled cosily at the foot of the rocks. The sites were empty apart from one RV belonging to a couple of climbers who we could see dangling of the rocks high above.

 

 

One of the discreet toilet blocks.

Back in the car after a brisk walk and scramble over the rocks.  Turned off Twentynine Palms onto the Amboy Highway heading north up and over the mountains. Views over the salt plains that belong to the American Chloride Co. and the barren darkness of the Amboy Crater and lava field. We pulled over and took a picture in what felt like the middle of nowehere, only to find a rock full of graffiti.

 

Onto the salt plains and the winding road (see above) through desolate landscape, would not like to be here in the summer. Hit part of Old Route 66 and our first Route 66 relic, Roy's Motel, once a buzzing crossroads on the two lane blacktop journey across the US, now a dusty reminder of life before the impersonal Interstate highways.

Route 66 stretched out ahead of us, a poker straight line for 50 miles before the first bend. All along the banks of the road people had laid out their names and the names of loved ones using white stones. We whizzed on enjoying the panoramic desert vistas, dust, no life apart from the scrubby plants and occasional bird riding the thermals high in the sky. Crazy yucca plants with gnarled blackened trunks and branches and vivid lime green heads.

Suddenly back on Interstate 40 and huge trucks crawling up the righthand lane. Freight trains that go on and on, carriage after carriage after carriage, snaking their way across the high desert valley.

At some point we drove past a man walking at the side of the road, pushing a trolley with a sign saying 'World Walk'. Check out his website. We drove past him during weeks 9-10! Had we not been on the speedy Interstate we definitely would have stopped to have a chat with him and give him a bottle of water and some roadtrip food. Good luck to him on his journey. 

Shortly after seeing Gary 'Walkingman' Hause we passed over the mighty Colarado River and from California into Arizona. 

  Goodbye California!
 Hello  Arizona!

Verse 9: Santa Barbara to the Grand Canyon - Part 2

So we crossed into Arizona and marveled at the epic landscape that unfolded around us and the manmade ephemera scattered by the roadside; a pick up truck balanced on a tall pole, dead motel signs, a large ball covered in peeling silver paint like a bad UFO special effect...

It's very hard to do it justice as the views are so huge - big sky, big landscapes, just breathtaking. As we headed north towards Kingman and our second meeting with old Route 66 we drove in awe past jagged mountains, crazily deformed yucca plants and chimneys of red rock.

 

  

  

We decided to detour north off the Interstate just after Kingman and drive part of the old Route 66 loop. In the low light of late afternoon we came across the dazzling sight of ranks of new, bright yellow and red DHL planes, lined up in precise formation awaiting their first carrier assignments. Elsewhere, dotted around the flat plain of the airport, the rusty hulks of decaying planes faded into their desert graveyard.

We saw another long train travelling across the flat desert, its heavy bulk snaking across the land into the distance.

We lost an hour as we crossed over our first time zone into Mountian Time. Desolate, stunning landscape.

Then we came across the Hackberry General Stores, another quirky old relic from the heyday of Route 66. We had the place to ourselves so we had a good old mooch around despite the fact the store itself was shut. 

 

  

 

 

 

We drove on through the dusk, zooming through the wide epic landscape of the Havasupai Indian Reservation.

Sometime after the Sun's light disappeared and the stars appeared in the clear night sky we rolled into the classic Route 66 town of Seligman, a small town lined up along the old road, all kitsch and neon signs glowing in the dark. We jumped out of the car for a quick wander, pulling on our warm winter coats against the bitter wind. Hard to believe that we had been basking in temperatures around 20 degrees C that same morning in Santa Barbara, it felt a world away.

 

Realising that we hadn't eaten for 10 hours (the landscape was seriously distracting) we decided to escape the biting cold and grab dinner in one of the warm and welcoming diners. Only two were open so we chose Westside Lilo's because it was on the right side of the road. 

 

The biggest Coke this side of the Colorado River!

 

Our starter paled in comparison to the table top.

 

But the burgers hold a place in our top 5 ever best burger list. Surely, for us they were the best tasting burgers on Route 66. And then the unspeakable happened.. The attack of the 20 ft. stag!!!

  

Luckily we made it out alive, jumped in the car, left some rubber on the track and headed for the final destiny of a long day: The Grand Canyon, where a cosy bed in the Bright Angel Lodge was waiting for us. The closer we got, the less we could see. It was cold, dark and snowy, and with our last ounce of energy we made it to the rim of the canyon. As our plan was to get up before sunrise, we went straight to bed, dreaming of giant burgers, coke and deer.

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