Fort she's-Worth-it to Okla-homeboy. Burnin' up Route 66 – Road Trip from Fort Worth down Route 66 via Oklahoma

This post covers our endeavour into a whole new type of America. It is what I want to – probably wrongly – call the beginning of our 'far west' adventure. 'Cowboy country', as it were. These few days follow us heading out of Texas into Oklahoma, joining onto the world-famous Route 66, and heading towards the Pacific coast. The change of scenery is crazy, and the sudden scarcity of life and industry almost instant.

But first, we had to say goodbye to Texas properly. And what better way than a student house party? Ben's friend from home, Sam (hi Sam), studies and sprints at TCU, in Fort Worth, and kindly let us spend a couple days with him. On arrival we went straight to a Hawaiin themed house party, put on by the TCU swimming team. Bikinis, swim shorts, beer pong, punch, volley ball, sun, multi-coloured vomit… everything you'd expect from the movies was there (also, thanks Sam for organising my first ever body-shot. Ben also appreciates the shot of Everclear).

Most of all, though, it was of course great to meet some cool people, particularly the fellow Brits (hi Mitch and Adam). Later that evening we, and most of the rest of the party, went to a bar called Bottom and continued the festivities there. The house cocktail (Pollywag? Pollywog? Polly…something?) made sure dehydration wasn't an issue. 

The next morning Sam and the guys showed us some of the top attractions that Fort Worth has to offer: IHOP and Staples, both of which were fantastic (the football stadium wasn't bad either).

We drove north of Fort Worth towards Oklahoma, a state I've not heard much about except that there's not a lot to tell about it. On crossing the state line two things were instantly noticeable. Firstly, there's nothing there. Secondly, there's nothing there except loads of dead armadillo. 

That evening we stayed in a Walmart in one of the few towns we came across, Lawton. The highlight of the day was watching Pirates (the Aardman film) in the RV, which, by the way, is bloody brilliant.

The next day we intended on driving to Clinton and beginning our journey down Route 66. However, on the way, we passed signs for the Wichita Wildlife Refuge, and thought we'd take a look. It turned out we had nearly bypassed some of the most breathtaking scenery we've come across this whole trip.

We spent most of the day driving around the almost deserted National Park, pulling up, exploring, taking photos and laughing at buffalo. The amazing weather only complimented this, no doubt very obvious, find. It had a real feel of the Old West. Desolate open plains, dissected by the veins of rivers and creeks; rocky mountains hiding belligerent Indian tribes (we assumed); John Wayne setting up camp (again, we assumed)…

Due to this slight detour, we didn't progress as far as we had originally planned that day. But this wasn't a problem. We stayed in another Walmart in Weatherford, just east of Clinton, intending to advance onto Route 66 the next day.

On the way to Weatherford, we passed through a quaint, old town called Cordell. It had a nice town hall situated in the centre of the square, surrounded by small shops and cafes. The only problem was that EVERYTHING was closed. We saw a total of about one person the entire time we were there. Eventually, we found a pizza place and, feeling in an exotic mood, got some pizza from there.

The Route 66 museum is in Clinton, Oklahoma, and we thought this would be the best place to start our morning. It was exactly what you'd expect, and this was by no means a bad thing. Hundreds of signs, photos and cars from throughout the past century were collected together in a domineering display, celebrating the history of the famous road. The gift shop was second to none.

Driving continuously down Route 66 can be quite tricky. Over time, it has been split up into a few separate roads, and isn't brilliantly signposted. But we did our best, staying on it for the entire several-hundred-mile journey towards Albuquerque, New Mexico (but I'm getting waaaaay ahead of myself). 

Every stretch of Route 66 is littered with quirky shops, art installations and truck stops, all clinging to their historic relationship with the Route and its users. Towns such as Shamrock, Clinton and McClean seemed like they owe their continued existence to the legacy of the now obsolete road.

McClean, back into Texas, was home to somewhere very special to me. Somewhere I have been planning to visit since the very week I thought up the idea for this trip: the Devil's Rope Barbed Wire Museum. 

Most people would question why I was so intent on visiting such a place. But it is due to the niche, pointlessness of the museum's whole existence that I was so keen to go there. I love crap like this! And nowhere in the whole world could house something like this other than the United States of America. Having now visited, I must say it was surprisingly concise, with an unbelievably broad number of exhibits. Whether you're a wire enthusiast, or just a casual fan of fencing, I couldn't recommend the Devil's Rope Barbed Wire Museum enough.

The past few days were a great example of what I was hoping to get out of this trip. Get drunk with some randomers, accidentally stumble upon some buffalo, drive for miles down the most famous road in the world, before stopping off to stare at some barbed wire for an hour. What more could a man want from three months of his life?

A WILD VIDEO APPEARED: 

Houston, We Have a Blog Post – Road Trip from Galveston to Austin via Houston

It's been a long time since the last post. There is so much to catch up on, and so much to explain. Once again, as seems to be the norm with these posts now, I am hereby promising to keep this one as short as possible! Quite how successful I am going to be at this remains to be seen, but fitting 3 Texan cities into a couple of paragraphs is going to be hard.

To begin with, a word of advice. If you ever plan on visiting a new town or city that may have been hit by a hurricane sometime in recent memory, be sure to read reviews of said place from both before AND after the storm. 

Galveston never really picked itself up in the same way that cities such as New Orleans did. Me and Ben bandied along, assuming we'd be met by a busy, fun-loving, seaside resort. What we actually came across was a depressed, grey dwelling with about as much charm as a primary school recorder performance. 

The day in Galveston was spent being underwhelmed. Sadly, in the end, it probably gets the award for "Worst Place We've Been So Far," which is especially notable considering we'd just spent the night in the "Second Saddest Place to Live in the US" (Beaumont, which we actually quite liked).

3rd April

The next day we drove from Galveston to a KOA in Baytown, just outside of Houston. The drive was noticeably ugly, passing nothing but industrial plants and other highways. However, the unspectacularness of the drive just made the scenic site of the campsite even more striking. Situated on a lake I've forgotten the name of, the whole day was spent just making ourselves feel better. Laundry, long showers, and an amateur BBQ in the evening meant, whilst forgettable, it was a very comfortable day.

That level of comfort was nothing compared to the next few days, though. Very kindly, a friend of ours, Lauren, offered us to stay with her for a few days (despite the fact I'd only met and spoken to her for half an hour at a gathering of people in Baton Rouge, a few days previously).

As far as Ben and I were concerned we were going to stay in a grimy student flat above a Kebab shop somewhere in the suburbs of Houston. How wrong we were. Katy, where Lauren lived, lay just outside of Houston. It was a picturesque community.

We pulled up at her house and went in to be greeted by one of the nicest families we've ever met. The next few days were bliss. Patty, Lauren's mum, wasn't only the best host in the world, but also a massive football fan (of which there are not many in America, particularly those who support Everton). For the duration of our time in the Lee household there was a footy game on the TV (at one point even Norwich vs Swansea – so we were very happy). Mr Lee also managed to put every British BBQ to shame. 

Ben, Patty, Me

The opportunity to use a proper internet connection was something we couldn't pass up, either. Therefore, we managed to Skype the Mum and speak to her properly for the first time in a month ("Well, I've run out of things to say now" - our Mum).

Both nights we stayed at the Lees' we went out into Houston. We met several of Lauren's friends and went to some really cool bars (shout out to Lucas, Jeff, Matt and Millie for letting us cotch at your place). It was odd because, in Texas, it's illegal to sell alcohol after 2am on weekends (earlier on weekdays), so Texans just get pissed quicker. Once again we got drunk-food from somewhere far too organised and enjoyable to ever be considered feasible in the UK.

After two nights, Ben and I were worried we were going to get too comfortable (we were days from asking for our names to be put on the mail box, and calling Patty 'Mum'). So, for the sake of making progress, we sadly decided we had to pick up and move on. Lauren, Mr and Mrs Lee, Kirsten and Brett thanks so much for some of the most pleasant days we've spent in the USA. It was great getting to know you, it would be great to see you all again (Lauren, you better come to Vegas).

7th April

After a night sleeping in slightly less comfortable surroundings (another Wal-Mart), we spent the day at one of Houston's main attractions, NASA. I went there with the completely ignorant assumption that it may have actually been educational. Instead, most of the day consisted of tram rides, films, and hands-on Angry Birds exhibitions. Not that I was complaining. We got to see the Mission Control room for every US space mission from the 60s until 1992, which includes the Apollo missions. It is now a National Historic site and cannot be tampered with. 

There were, of course, dozens of huge rockets and space shuttles to wander around too. However, all this was nothing in comparison to the grand finale: the gift shop.

That evening we embarked upon the long journey to Austin, taking about four hours or so. Everything takes longer when you're driving the equivalent of an unfortunate student flat around behind you. But it was totally worth it as it meant we arrived that evening in possibly the best city I've been to so far.

8th April

We spent our time in Austin with one of Lauren's friends, Olivia (Hi Olivia), who we'd met in Houston a few days previously. Olivia very kindly let us stay at her house, making going back to sleeping in the RV an even harder ordeal when it came to it. 

Austin really is like no other city I have been to in the US. I got a real soft spot for it as it reminded me so much of Stokes Croft in Bristol. It had a real charm, clinging relentlessly to its rock n roll image and being, to put it bluntly, weird. Ambling down 6th Street was a great way to spend the day. Its concoction of bars and shops unmatched in style, except perhaps by New Orleans. 

The Museum of the Weird, in the back of the Lucky Lizzard store, was one of the best finds of the trip. A collection of oddities and strange things from all over the world (shrunken heads, waxworks, skeletons, and a huge but not to scale King Kong model are just examples). Upstairs we got shown the actual flat that Johnny Depp and the Gibby Haynes (of the Butthole Surfers) shared for a short while. At the end, we were treated to a short show from an employee there who put a nail up his nose, hung fish from his eyelids, and trapped his tongue in a mouse trap. All fine entertainment, but with me and Ben as the only people in the audience I felt his time could have maybe been better spent.

The second day in Austin we felt like we needed to do a bit of exercise, so went for a jog around the park. I was quite impressed with how far I managed, but that sense of pride soon wavered after realising we'd become totally lost. 

What was supposed to be a 45 minute run, ended up being a 3.45 hour trek in the boiling sun, with no money or water. The tour of the city was lovely (including the Stevie Ray Vaughan memorial), but once you start considering drinking your own sweat, the novelty of a mini-train ride begins to wear off. Luckily, I was able to text Olivia with the name of the street we were on, and, using her invaluable local knowledge, managed to inform us "Oh, I know there, it's a really pretty area!" We found our own way back.

Stevie Ray Vaughan memorial

10th April

The next day we took it a bit easier and visited the Presidential Library of Lyndon B. Johnson (which was particularly significant for Ben, as LBJ was the notable protagonist of his dissertation). The museum was very biased towards the achievements of LBJ, but, for someone with relatively little knowledge of him as a President, I did leave surprised at how many there were.

Later on, we met with Olivia and her friend Kelsey (guessing it's spelt that way?) and went for a meal at one of the many Mexican restaurants that are becoming more and more frequent as we've started heading west. She also showed us around some other parts of Austin, including Mt. Bonnell, which gave us a great bird's eye view of just how lost we'd gotten the previous day.

Ben and LBJ (from left to right)

Austin is great in that its nightlife, from what I gathered, is centred around live music. As we worked our way down 6th Street, both the days and nights we were there, there was always a band on somewhere.

I also loved Austin because it's probably the place that has most in common with Britain socially and politically. I felt comfortable discussing certain things there that I wouldn't dare to have done in other parts of Texas for fear of 'offending people' (which is something else we need to talk about, America). On leaving the city, I mentally concluded that, of the places I've visited so far, Austin is the place I would most like to live (don't worry Olivia, it's probably not going to happen).

To end, I thought I'd make a few summation points about the trip. For those interested (which, let's face it, stretches no further than me and Mum, (Hi Mum!)), we've travelled just under 3,000miles at the time of writing (14th April); passing through 16 states (NY, NJ, DE, PA,  MD, VA, WV, NC, SC, GA, AL, FL, MS, LA, TX, OK, respectively).

When I look back at my time spent here, there's one question that really sticks out to me: why are there so many mattress shops?

THE VIDEO EXTRAVAGANZA:

Reaching Nirvana in Louisiana – Road Trip from New Orleans to Beaumont, Texas via Baton Rouge

New Orleans was, from since I started planning this trip, the place I was probably looking forward to more than anything else. I had no idea what to expect, except somewhere very different from anywhere else. This assumption was not incorrect. Our first night's experience probably doesn't quite do the place justice. Following the five-to-six hour journey from Gulf Shores to New Orleans, Ben, Morgan and I felt more like sleeping than anything else. As a result, our first evening in New Orleans was spent watching Skyfall in the car park of a Wal-Mart.

Our second day was a major improvement! We drove to a KOA in the morning, situated in the city itself. It was probably the best KOA so far. Busy, pretty, well located, and the woman on the desk gave me a free toffee apple. 

We made our way to Bourbon Street as soon as possible. It seemed almost too cliche, but there was no way I could go to New Orleans and not go to Bourbon Street. It was like another world. Every building was either a bar or a souvenir shop, filled to the top with Venetian masks, beads, and things shaped like penises.

   

Every bar had something going on. The first had an outgoing woman forcing people into karaoke; the second a dad-rock covers band; the third a jazz-rock band; the fourth a soft jazz fivesome (Louis Armstrong cover inc.); the fifth a blues/RnB band…. the list goes on.

The atmosphere on Bourbon Street is one of a chilled out, joy-seeking carnage, spurred on by the 'Buy 1, Get 2 free' drinks deal nearly all the bars employ in the area (and the fact you can take your drink from one bar, onto the street, and into another). 

One of the best moments was when we were sat in the Funky Pirate enjoying a performance of Hey Joe, as the USA vs Mexico game was on one TV, and Batman Returns was being played on a big screen on the opposite wall.

   

That day, we wandered around Bourbon street taking in all we could. One bar after the next, we worked our way around. We stopped for something to eat in a seafood restaurant (although Morgan had chicken, in a seafood restaurant, I mean seriously…), and tried not to stick around in one place too long. 

Should you ever venture to Bourbon Street, be sure to try the signature cocktail of several bars there: the Hand Grenade. For the life of me, I cannot tell you what was in it. But, like normal hand-grenades, it was both fruity as well as deadly. Don't have one and expect to achieve much afterward. It was this that signalled the end of our evening, and an incredibly uncomfortable following morning.

   

Morgan left the next day, embarking, impressively, on her 11-hour drive back to Charlotte in probably not the best of states. (It's here I'll say cheers for being great company, Morgan, and I'll see you in the UK… right?). While Morgan's day may not have achieved too much, ours can only have achieved less. The one memory I have was having a shower. 

28th March 
Back to Wal-Mart, we spent the day in Starbucks. Ben wasn't too keen on leaving the RV as his sunburn was peeling more than a Prisoner-of-War on kitchen duty. However, I eventually managed to persuade him to man up and come out to see what Frenchmen Street was like. 

Every local we met on Bourbon Street told us we had to go to Frenchmen Street, and I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. It was basically the local hang-out (although, as a result of its reputation, is increasingly being invaded by pesky tourists, us not included). It's where we were told the 'reeeeeal' jazz was, and this was something I just had to see. 

We hopped out the cab around 9pm and the place was just as alive as Bourbon Street. A mobile, brass band played bombastic tunes from the curb, as market stalls continued to sell their crafts late into the night, illuminated by the surrounding fairy lights.

We mooched into the Spotted Cat (the first bar we came across), and were met by a smooth jazz trio who serenaded us calmly the whole time we were in there. We enjoyed a good mix of beer here, including me finally getting to try a Pabst Blue Ribbon (the notoriously Hipster beer, which, accordingly, got me laughed at from the girl on the bar). 

As seems the norm with bartenders in America, we became quite friendly with the girl serving us, Lady Robin. She finished her shift at 10 and offered to show us around Frenchmen St. (although not before stopping off at her place first to walk the dog). She, and several of her friends, made us very welcome in the many bars we visited that evening. Every one of them with live music, and every act we saw being pretty damn good at worst. There really is nowhere quite like it in England. Scrap that, there's nowhere quite like it in the World (from my limited experience). 

The evening ended at about 3.30am with me and Ben buying a steak sandwich from a guy called Joe who'd set up a BBQ on the street, then collapsing into a cab to go back to the RV. New Orleans, I will come back to you. 

Having listened to the bore-fest that was the Norwich v Wigan game, we jumped straight into the RV to drive to Baton Rouge in search of a way to forget the result. The answer came as we pulled up at a Wal-Mart and were greeted by Derek, the car park security officer, who turned out to be most accommodating ("you gotta go Twin Peaks, puts Hooters to shame").

We met some great people in Baton Rouge (shout out to Karen, Ben and Broc), including one I'd already met: a friend of a friend, Sonia. She showed us a decent bar and took us to a gathering at her uni friends' flat. 

Thanks Sonia for being a great host. Not only do I appreciate the introduction to Mike the Tiger (an ACTUAL TIGER), but also you really introducing us to the concept of 24hr America. At about 4.30am we went into a diner, were seated, handed a menu, and promptly served up a full meal. I hate to say it, but it really makes the early morning kebabs and fried chicken in the UK seem a tiny bit less sophisticated. (£5 pizza deal at Kebab-U-Like, Bristol, not included). 

So little happened the next day, I shall leave it at this.

1st April 

1st April marked one month since Ben and I set out on this trip, and it was awesome. We drove out of Louisiana towards Texas down Interstate 10 and across the Atchafalaya Swamp, which was ah-maaaaaaaaay-zing. A beautifully sunny day, bombing it down the Interstate on an 18-mile bridge over miles of green, salubrious, otherwise untouched undergrowth, was an unforgettable experience. We pulled off at the visitor centre and wandered through a tiny, empty museum about the area. It was kitted out in the sort of terrible, but hilarious, moving exhibits you see in The Simpsons.

   

An excursion to Lake Martin wasn't in the original plan, but the nice lady at the visitor centre said we had to go, so we did (old nice ladies know best). It was essentially just more swamp, but with loads of wildlife (or should I say "critters"), and one of the best places for us to see an alligator ("gator").

We jumped out the RV and walked along the boardwalk appreciating nature's attempt to be pretty. Our enjoyment of the boardwalk was maybe slightly scuppered by a massive bee that appeared halfway along (everything IS bigger in America!). Ashamedly to say, the bee proved too much to handle and we turned back. 

 

We spent the night in what has been called the "Second Saddest Place to Live in America." I feel this was a bit mean as we had a great time. A rack of ribs, a couple Buds in an Applebee's, and some casual racism from the waiter warning about the dangers of "the black people in Houston..." what more could you want from a day?

Louisiana proved itself to, probably, be my favourite state so far on this trip. It's a shame to be leaving it behind, but there are other Wal-Mart employees to befriend! As per, there's a video re-enactment of this text below. David Attenborough impression included.

Banta' in Atlanta, Peaches on the Beaches – Road Trip from Atlanta to Gulf Shores via Daphne

So much has happened since the last blog, and I can't even write about half of it (it'll be the subject of the next blog, for length reasons). Continuing on from the end of the previous post, we set off pretty late in the day on a 4-5 hour non-stop drive to Atlanta. It was a pretty muggy day, and it really didn't provide the most cheerful of surroundings considering where we were going. We stopped off for food halfway somewhere we didn't, and still don't, know the name of. 

The restaurant we chose was a Bojangles, one of the many fast food empires of this specific niche, which served the interesting mix of Chicken and Biscuits. And, despite what your moral compass might be screaming at you, these two components were not served as separate courses. 

The American definition of 'biscuit' does differ from that of the UK, but this doesn't make the situation any better. They are still two entirely juxtaposing entities forced into a culinary marriage of worser pairing than that of Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister. Two great bodies combined for the good of the nation and the wealth of the arrangers, but completely regardless of the well-being of the two bodies themselves.

It didn't really matter though, I just ate the chicken then the biscuit on different plates.

We stayed in a Walmart that evening, awoke the next day and worked our way into the centre of Atlanta on the MARTA subway system. The first thing we noticed about Atlanta  (other than that everything there and in Georgia has the word 'peach' in the name) was how pretty and calm it was. Everyone we had spoken to about the city would comment on the traffic and busyness of the city, but it was almost the opposite. There was a lot of activity, of course, but it was not at all overwhelming. Atlanta had the calm atmosphere of a Southern town, but a skyline of New York.

There were two options for the day. The Georgia Aquarium (home to the largest fish tank in the world), or the World of Coca-Cola. Me and Ben were quite torn. But, as much as I love a good fish, I couldn't turn down the opportunity to see the home of one of the most commercially available and successful brands to exist. Also, I had to pay tribute to the creators of the adverts that truly signify the beginning of Christmas (moreover, it was half the price).

We spent several hours in the 'museum', which was pretty interesting. The visit began with a short film about living a healthy lifestyle (or, should I say, how to live a healthy lifestyle while simultaneously drinking Coke).

It housed thousands of Coca-Cola artefacts, made up mostly of promotional items and interactive displays, including a 4D cinema. But the main event, and the only reason we really went, was to get to taste over 75 different Coca-Cola products. You walk into a room that houses hundreds of dispensers on podiums dotted throughout the room, pick up a small plastic cup, and are let loose. 

The dispensers are split into the different continents they're sold in. You can try as much as you like, as often as you like. Ben and I couldn't let ourselves leave without having tasted every single one. After about 25 we were beginning to think that maybe saying we'd tried 25 would be cool enough… but we manned through the next 50.

There were several brands we were more than familiar with (Fanta, Diet Coke, Nestea, Powerade), but we also got to try some really interesting products. Two I will always remember are Vegetabita, from Japan, a vegetable mix which somehow tasted amazing; and Barq's, which tasted like paint.

Halfway through they all started to taste the same. The last one we tried, though, was the best of all, and an amazing relief. If you haven't guessed already, it was Coke. Nothing can beat the taste of Coke. I love Coke.

We exited via the Olympic Park in the Southern sun and headed into the city. We wandered around for a while before starting to feel a bit peckish, and I got to experience my first ever Hooters. It was great. Beer, football, burgers and attractive women who are paid to find me funny. What an end to the day. 

We have since been to another Hooters in Daphne, Alabama, and it really is interesting to see its reputation over here. We were genuinely sat at a table with a man and his wife having a drink on one side of us, and two parents and their 6yr old child sat on the other, having a meal.

20th March, 2013

The next day was spent driving into Alabama, ending up in an area on the suburbs of Montgomery called Prattville, which still makes me chuckle slightly every time I think of it.

The following day was also mainly spent on the road, eventually pulling up at a Walmart in a small town called Daphne. We parked and went straight out to find a Subway and hit a few bars. Like so many towns we've been to, most of the night we were heard answering the question "So you've flown thousands of miles across the ocean, and driven thousands of miles through the US. Why the hell have you come to Daphne?" In truth, we didn't really know. But were really glad we did. 

We went into one bar, Pour Nelsons, which you couldn't really describe as packed, but it had a cool little open mic on. Another bar we went into, Top of the Bay, was nice too. $10-all-you-can-drink is not to be sneered at. 

We said goodbye to Daphne in the morning and headed further south to a KOA in Lillian. It was situated overlooking the beach on the Gulf of Mexico. Everything got recharged, we cleaned the place up and just chilled out after so long living rough. That evening we finished the final episode of Game of Thrones.

23rd March 2013

One of the best accidents we made was turning up in Gulf Shores at the beginning of Spring Break. Gulf Shores, described as the cheap persons Panama Beach, is a beach resort stretching along the southern coast of Alabama into Florida, and it came alive the few days we were there. We lucked out in finding a random car park on the beach opposite a bar called the Hangout, where we ending up spending most of our time. It's not dissimilar to most seaside resorts in its style, appearance or content except that it's just that bit more awesome. We got a couple pints, played some football on the beach, had a wander, then went back to the RV to prepare for the evening. A few cans, a game of beer pong, and some aftershave later we went out exploring a few bars (including one that didn't believe our IDs were real; and a Mexican bar that shared the same equatorial charm as the Kings Head, Stansted). 

The Hangout, however, proved to be the place to be for the time being. They had several live bands on and, quite simply, people were actually in there. It was only when Tabitha, a friend I made in Daphne, joined us later on that it became clear we were not in the right place. (Hi Tabby, btw. The chicken photo is being worked on). Flora Bama, on the other hand, is like the coolest bar ever. About 7 different rooms, all with live music/DJs, and completely without any of the pretentious, hipster undertones that you'd find in this sort of place in the UK. Also, if you ever go there, get a Bushwacker. 

Hangovers averted, we all spent the next day on the beach. Ben apparently a bit more so than me, managing to become so sunburnt he resembled the Turkish state flag. A beer, some BBQ ribs and a mooch about later our friend Morgan, who we met in Charlotte, turned up to join us for the next few days. This evening followed a very similar pattern to the last: chill out, eat, pre-drink, and go to some bars. I wouldn't have asked for it any other way (especially as we got to see two really hot, Southern country girls play a Shania Twain song, ticking another great stereotype off the list).

This week saw us travel through 3 of the Southern-most states, and was probably the best one so far. There really is something about the South that is infectious. However, that said, New Orleans is next on the agenda which could quite easily beat it! Sadly this will be tackled in the next blog, so you aren't gonna get to hear about it now. What you are gonna hear about however is how I was twice ridiculed by an American in a Waffle House for not saying Pecan properly (apparently it's 'picarn', not 'pee-cun'). Write your outrage below, people.

Have a poorly crafted video of the experience:

Getting into the true American spirit (Pretending to be Irish) – Road Trip from Richmond to Charlotte via Wake Forest

It's been a week since I last updated the blog, and for that I apologise. It's not that there's been nothing to say, there's been a LOT to say, I just simply haven't had the chance. Therefore, this shall be a very compact, catch-up post to summarise alllll that has happened up until Paddy's day. I think it's also important to inform you that, as a result of one of us dropping out, we decided to cut the trip short due to funds. The new plan is to cut back from Los Angeles to New York somehow (yet to be decided), and probably return home one month earlier. It really does pain me to have to make this decision, but it just seems like the best way to make the most of our time and money.

10/3/13

Anyway! I finished off last week in Clarksburg. We didn't feel fantastic the next morning, so headed further south to melt into the beautiful scenery that the Virginian national parks provided us with. We spent the day at the Skyline Caverns, which were basically some old caves that housed some cool crystals which were unique to the area (it's very hard to make caves sound interesting in prose). 

We spent the evening on the outskirts of Richmond, ending up in a smoky bar called the Rock Fall Tavern. As luck would have it there was an open mic on that night and, almost too stereotypically, we mooched in as a woman performed an acoustic version of Hotel California. The rest of the evening comprised of several other stereotypes performing similarly predictable ditties to lacklustre applause. Anything other than this wonderful cliche-fest would have been a grave disappointment

The mix of people we met that evening was great. We spoke to several of the performers, including a saxophonist, Dave ("Schubert was a pedophile"); vocalist, Soloman (cheers for the pint and the directions); and the Eagles performer Sophia (thanks again for the lift home). One girl also said nothing to us except "Can you stop talking please or I'm going to cum in my pants," and then ran off blushing. On that note, it was around here that suddenly the American people became really compelled by our accents. Just buying something in Walmart, or ordering a drink, makes every American in earshot want to talk to you.

11/3/13

The bus into Richmond the next day was long, but worth it to see the Museum of the Confederacy, and the southern White House (Jeffereson Davis' home during the Civil War). Charles, our tour guide, was one of the most entertaining people around, which is impressive considering the subject content was slavery and war. We got to stand on the exact spot where, on the fall of Richmond to Union forces, President Lincoln announced to several hundred slaves that they had been emancipated. Almost more memorable was that I had my first ever Subway that day that I actually enjoyed (Meatball and Pepperoni sub, for anyone interested).

We drove that evening to a campsite, not a KOA, which was… different. There were people staying there in their RVs who had been living there for ages. One guy we met had been there for 14yrs (which meant, luckily, he had worked out where the toilets were by now). We spent that evening watching Game of Thrones. I had pancakes.

12/3/13

That morning I got to enjoy something I had been looking forward to since I started planning this whole trip: pulling up in the RV; hopping out in trackies; and spending hours monged in a Waffle House, gorging myself on breakfast and unlimited coffee. Again, we couldn't leave without half the restaurant asking us to say something. (Driving into North Carolina from here we also passed the 'Church of Fire' - "If God isn't your bread of life, then you're toast!").

Arriving into Wake Forest, we were met graciously and enthusiastically by the glaring sun. Pulling up outside a bowling alley, we moseyed on into town to see what was going on. It was relatively quiet, but in a quaint, calm way. It was a perfect example of one of the slow-moving, relaxed Southern towns we'd heard so much about. The array of shops was really impressive. We spent most of the day wandering around several antiques shops (For Old Times' Sake was amazing), record stores, craft centres etc. Eventually we came across a large campus for Southeastern Bible University. Obviously looking like outsiders, two guys, Mark and Ching, asked if we fancied a tour. They showed us literally everything, including introducing us to the President of the University, who was clearly quite bemused as to why she was meeting two random English tourists.

Later we ventured into the Bowling Alley, Brook Street Bowl, we'd parked at. Once again the people inside made it very clear why Americans have such a welcoming reputation. Matt, the guy running the place, was a great friend for the evening. He gave us some great ideas on where to go, and he was also a football (soccer) fan, which gives him lots of points. The building was kitted out retro style, with about 20 different old arcade machines (Space Invaders, Ms Pacman…), and a great beer selection (which is uncommon as far as we're concerned). We had several pints that night; Ben won bowling; I still am not used to the word 'tittes' being used in normal conversation.

14/3/13

A whole day spent in the mall sounds expensive, but when you just wander around staring at things, and all you actually buy is a coffee in order to rinse the WIFI, it's actually quite a cheap day out. We hadn't been in a proper American mall yet, fair enough they're just like English ones, but it's the people in them that made the day so enjoyable. Every shop you walk in someone will say 'hello' to you. The Britishness in you knows they're obviously paid to do that, but you can't help but appreciate it. We also made several friends with the guys working there (Hi Nolan, if you're reading. And the weird girl who ran away), and oddly were asked for a photo with a woman in the Army simply because we were twins. Also, we visited a Hot Topic (South Park fans, you won't be let down), and saw a group of Cos-Play kids just 'hangin' out', as you do. A nice guy in one shop also provided us with a fantastic Englishman impression, he lived "just north of London in South D-urrrbyshire", and his favourite cricket team was "Harry Potter". We never got his actual name, but his English persona was William Boyce Irvington, and he was hilarious.

Biggest one in America, apparently

15/3/13

You really come to appreciate unlimited water/ electric supplies when you don't have them. We'd been several days now without them and so thought it was time to live life a bit more luxuriously. Therefore we stayed at another KOA, washed our clothes, chilled out and relaxed (made all the more easier by the sun continuing to grace us with its outgoing presence). All this was necessary to prepare for the following day: St. Patrick's (at least, the day we're celebrating it).

16/3/13

We started out early and drove on into Charlotte looking for a parking lot we could keep the RV in. We found one place, at a shop called Save a Lot, but was advised, if we wanted to come back to a vehicle with wheels, to maybe find another neighbourhood. Which we did; without question; and quickly. We parked up again, dressed up, and got a cab into town. Taxis are horrific in the States, you can ring one and it will turn up unannounced in about an hour and a half, and that's just normal. I won't go too much into what we did because it's a loooooong story, but we spent the day bar crawling, and met a hell of a lot of people (specific shout out to Claire, Alex, Allie, Callie, Jen, Hallie and Morgan). Oh and I apologise to Ben for the 10% IPA, it sounded like a great idea at the time. Anyone who is interested in the messy details, buy me a pint and keep an evening spare.

I don't know who that woman is

17/3/13

The next day wasn't as painful as I was expecting, Ben might disagree. We got breakfast with some friends we made the night before (a Mexican restaurant, to keep it festive…), then went back to the RV to die. That evening I went with our new friends Morgan and Nicole to a bar with their friends and learnt a valuable lesson. If it wasn't for our accent, English people will never manage to get served at a bar. 

So there we have it, a whole week in one blog. I am not gonna be letting this happen again if I can help it. Below, as always, you'll find the video which, I appreciate, is now essentially becoming the Ben Jones Show. He's no good behind the camera, as you may have worked out for yourself (his finger gets more airtime than me).

Spongebombing the Capital – Road Trip from Philadelphia to Washington, D.C. via Baltimore

Thinking back to how cold, wet and windy Philly was, it seems so strange that I'm currently writing this, basking in the sun in Richmond, Virginia. I'm getting ahead of myself now, but the passage from North to South is so noticable, in many more ways than just the weather.

We departed the one-time capital of the US the following day, and continued southward. It is at this point Gareth left, leaving me and Ben to unearth America together without him. Before setting out on the Interstate we filled up gas for the first time on the trip. Regarding gas prices, Americans seem to be in a constant state of panic over them rising, but if they were to see the prices of petrol in Britain they might have a small heart attack (although that might have something more to do with the food available).

We drove for some time down towards the present-day capital, DC. On the way we passed through Baltimore, which looked like such a great place to spend the day. Really colourful town, built on the harbour. However we'd arrived too late to really make the most of it, so we continued onwards. Our destination that evening was a KOA campground (basically the Travelodge of the RVing world.; you know what you're getting, reliable, and everywhere). It was a relief to spend one night with full hook-ups, proper showers and great scenery. Even more importantly it had giant chess, which was really missed on our previous nights spent in Walmart car parks.

We woke up early and drove towards DC, parked up in the suburbs and got the Metro into the centre. DC is built around the needs of the tourist. The National History Museum, American History Museum, Air and Space Museum, several art galleries, Lincoln memorial, Washington memorial, WWII memorial... are all within 20mins walk of each other, and all free. The Lincoln memorial was the most popular of the lot, and understandably so. It was strangely inspiring and moving, particularly considering I'm not American. The Smithsonian museums were also a good walk around. The Natural History museum is very similar to the one in London, good to look around, some really interesting insects, and a giant squid. But it was the American History and the Air and Space museums which were by far the best. They were heavily biased towards the three wars, (I, II and Civil), which was great for me as I could really understand and appreciate the exhibits, unlike the Natural History museum in which I just enjoyed the pretty colours. We also visited the National Archives, but they were sadly closed by the time we got there, however it was almost worth it to see the huge door. It was rather large.

DC provided us with some unique memories. We got to see the steps where Martin Luther King made his infamous "I have a dream" speech; the Wright Brothers' plane; artifacts from the first moon landing; the first US Revolutionary War battleship; and an actual filming location from Night at the Museum 2! Also whilst out in DC we did run into a few school/ college trips, and on bumping into a group from Virginia I got to witness my first ever "Oh my GAAAAAD, are you British?", which was simply amazing. And so it began...

We left DC with no specific destination in mind. We were hoping to just find somewhere to stop for the night as we continued our venture south. By about 10pm we came across a small town by the name of Clarksburg (the name of which we only actually found out in the early hours of the morning). We parked up behind a gas station and mooched into the (Irish) bar next door. On heading inside, before even buying a beer, two guys at the bar had introduced themselves and demanded we do shots with them. Chris and Brooke became our instant best friends for the night, allowing me to experience my first ever Baby Guinness (Baileys and Guinness shooter), introducing me to the Car Bomb (Tequila bombed into a glass of Guinness, and becoming co-creators of the Sponge-Bomb (Tequila bombed into pineapple juice). The rest of the night consisted of four guys getting drunk and finding the quirks of the other one's culture amusing. We ended up going round Chris/ Brooke's flat, playing some music and getting incredibly jealous at their standard of living.

The one lesson I have learned these past couple days (after visiting the memorials, the Smithsonian museums, driving several hundred miles in a couple days) will stay with me forever, and is something I want to pass on everywhere I travel next, and throughout England when I return home. It is simple: Sponge-Bomb's are awesome; do them; do them hard.

Again, have a video:

RV nearly there yet? – Road Trip from New York to Philadelphia via Princeton

Firstly, it has become very clear that I had no idea how hard it would be to find time to do these blogs. But I'm doing my best and hopefully will try to make these shorter and more frequent (which is how you like it, right ladies?). Anyway, since the last post we've picked up the RV and driven a couple hundred miles south towards Philadelphia, but not before checking out NYC, and enjoying several places in between.

Following us picking up the RV, we drove and parked in the Liberty Harbour RV park, which was just a slab of concrete in Jersey City, but in the best location we could've found to park. It actually overlooked the Statue of Liberty itself. We got there mid-afternoon, had a nap, then when straight out to find a bar to get something to eat and have a pint. We ended up that night heading into Manhattan on the subway and having several pints in an Irish bar there. Irish bars are EVERYWHERE in NYC. In fact they're everywhere in everywhere, as far as my experience goes so far. If you went out and walked into the first place you found that sold pints, I bet 7 times out of 10 it would be an Irish bar of some sort (maybe even 14 times in 20!).

The next day we got up early to go watch the Spurs v. Arsenal game at the Spurs supporters' club in, you guessed it, an Irish bar. It was so packed you could barely move. There was probably a 50/50 split of Americans and British people in there, but that didn't mean the chants of "YID ARRRRRMY" weren't 100% participated in. Then we wandered around Manhattan for the day. Times Square, Grand Central Station, Starbucks.... It was almost too cold to properly enjoy however, the wind was so harsh it just made us want to cotch up inside. As a result we decided to move on earlier than planned and make the most of New York in the spring weather when we returned in June.

We set off the next day, taking the road around New York to head to Princeton. On the way we stopped off at Morristown, a small historic dwelling with some quirky shops and nice people. This was our first hands on experience of small town America, where we could meet some real Americans. Ironically the first person we came across was a loud mouthed cockney, screaming at his mate to get him some fags. After leaving here we rolled into a Walmart just outside of Princeton. Here we spent our first night dry camping with no hook-ups, just what we brought with us. We also experienced Walmart for the first time. If you hadn't already guessed, it is huge. It's also a great place to really see Americans go about their daily lives. They have an interesting quality in that they seem to enjoy commentating on what it is you're purchasing ("This boy's gat himself some Nuttella!"). It also becomes incredibly clear why the average weight is what it is. It is simply impossible to buy anything of a modest size. Buying a carton of juice that actually fits in our fridge proved to be an unachievable task.

Princeton itself is amazing. The amount of money pumped into the University/ town means it is one of the most pristine places I have every seen. Seriously it's like in Hot Fuzz, I think they murder hobos. This also meant it was a pretty average places to go out drinking (uni towns in the UK are very different!), but we did find a great mini-brewery/ bar to watch the Man U v. Real Madrid game. Let's not discuss the score, but the burgers were amazing!

That evening we got to do something I've always wanted to do: attend a University sports game. On Ben's insistance we saw the Princeton Tigers beat the Villanova Wildcats at lacrosse, and it was immense. No offence to Ben, or lacrosse,  but I was really surprised to see several hundred people not only turn up to watch the match, but also get REALLY passionate about it. After the game we wandered back to the RV via a(n Irish) bar, which happened to have a pub quiz ongoing. Special shout out for the winning team: Hugo-ing, going, gone. The two gents on the bar were also very helpful in suggesting places to go in Philly, where we were headed next. Writing all the vital information on a napkin for us:

We drove to Philadelphia that night, and spent the evening cosied up outside another Walmart, which were already beginning to look exactly the same. Philly itself was noticeably different to New York and towns such as Princeton. It was charmingly crafted out of and around many different cultures and ethnicities. Sadly again it was a miserable day, but that didn't stop us trudging into town to see some of the historical sites such as Independence Hall and the Liberty Bell. It felt really special to be standing where the Declaration of Independence was signed, and be in the same room, with the same furniture, that George Washington used. We also meandered down South Street where I finally got to enjoy a real diner (Johnny Rockets cheese steak sandwich, and an Oreo milkshake... amazing) and also found my favourite named Irish bar so far (Paddy Whack's), situated just across the road from the brilliantly outgoing Condom Kingdom.

That evening we got drunk.

Sorry this post was so long. Had to cut so much down. In future I'll do it more regularly, and as a result be a lot more interesting (hopefully). Have a video:

Oh and for those interested: