United States trip - Part III

There we were, in a big, white truck. A massive Dodge RAM Hemi. 5.7L V8, loaded to the hilt with all our gear and 4 people. I think my car at home could have fit in the cargo tray, and another exact same car could fit in the passenger area. This thing was enormous.

Which ever way you put it, the drive was a damn sight better than the bus from Texas to LA. But I tell you what, the adventure could never be replicated by a car. It was fun. But it's been done. And now we were travelling in comfort and style.... and clean.

Our first stop was for a quick break to pee, smoke and stretch our legs. Back in the car we zoomed through California and before we knew it, we were some place else. The scenery really didn't change much, but we were heading to Laughlin to meet up with a team of Jeep owners that are all happy customers of my cousin. The trip was organised for fun, pleasure and catching up with others who love the outdoors.

There, I was introduced to many of my cousin's friends who regularly go camping, fishing and party. A few people will always be remembered. They were friendly, funny and I won't forget Jeff, who introduced me to Geocaching and also hurt my brain by using his phone in the middle of the Mojave, updating his Facebook and emailing people. WTF? I told him "If this was Australia, we would have lost reception on our phones yesterday. I live in suburbia and I lose a signal. Here we are in the middle of nowhere, and you can pretty much run your business from behind this boulder. Amazing."

He was shocked to hear that I was surprised. Then we made a joke about how backwards us Australians are. And the rest of the evening was an onslaught of back and forth America vs Australia jokes. There was much talk about his affection with bacon and our weird ways on the butt end of the planet.

Our first evening in Laughlin was about meeting up, gambling, drinking and eating, in that order. I skipped the gambling due to my own personal beliefs behind it. I got weird looks, but then again, I'm from Australia, I get weird looks no matter what country I go to.

My wife and I ended up walking down by the river and caught a water taxi which took us on a round trip from hotel to hotel and back where we started. We met the driver of the boat, I guess captain of his vessel, but I imagine the appropriate title is skipper. I don't know. However, he was a young chap about 25 years old, named Doug. And he picked my accent immediately.

Not only that, but he know about Australia. About our politics, about our land, and our water restrictions. We spoke for quite some time and he played tour guide for us, which we thought was nice because really all he had to do was shut up and get us around the waters for 30 minutes. But he didn't and we were very thankful he was friendly and talked to us. We learnt about the land a bit more and about the river, about the way of life and how people live out there. We learnt about the culture and about the conservation of the area. We learnt about how Doug himself had bought property in Colorado and had started building his house from adobe bricks made from the land which he bought. I thought that was cool. I had met an American, in person, that wasn't a consumer of things with no idea of where they come from, or care where they come from, just GIMME GIMME GIMME!

That isn't to say I thought of all the American people like that, however, it was hard to shake off that stigma, when that's how the people are portrayed, and that's how you remember it as a child when you live there and see it happening in front of you. Since I said this so long ago back in part one, I'll remind you that my vision of America was jaded due to my childhood and adolescent experiences there. This lead me to believe the rest of the nation was like this and that I wanted to part of it. What I love more than being right is being proven wrong. I love learning new things, and this visit taught me I was wrong all along.

Our first stop out of Laughlin was hitting the actual trail that goes through the Mojave. I can't tell you what it was called, but I can tell you that we had to stop at the beginning of it to air down our tyres.

And after 30 minutes of airing down, talking crap, discussing lunch, talking more crap, making jokes, more racism comments were flung around the sand about Australia and America and how stupid we both are. We finally got in to our trucks in good spirits and high hopes.

And I wasn't disappointed. The Mojave was beautiful. the ruined hotels, shacks, abandoned cars and stops on the way when Jeff jumped out the car and started to look for a Geocache was great. We spent 30 minutes looking for it. It was here somewhere, amongst the 300 tin cans, all with holes in them. Shot to pieces, laid down in the sand as if they were placed there on purpose. One can had the Geocache in it. One can held the treasure. We finally found it, logged the find and put the can back for the next person to find. Back on the trail again.

We finally made it an hour before sunset. Our first camp spot for the night was set up in less than an hour. What was previously an empty clearing between hills of rocks, boulders and sand was now our home for the evening.

A fire was started, tents were pitched, and tables were set up. Food was cooking and drinks were drunk. There was much talking. I kept quiet for once, however, I wanted to hear all the stories people had. I was there to learn about what was going on in American life since I left it over 20 years ago.

Jokes were told in poor taste, but as always, it's the really bad ones you cringe at, while somehow still laughing at another persons misfortune and expense. The good side to this is that the person at the butt of the joke had a sense of humour too, and would retaliate with something a little stronger or with just as much bite.

The night went on and it got really dark, really fast. The fire kept us warm, and I was laughed at for wearing a jumper (sweat shirt) all day long in the sun. I told them that it wasn't that hot, while they all laughed, and sweated, in their shorts and t-shirts. I thought it would be a perfect opportunity to have another dig at piss weak America vs' us tough Aussies. So I said "This is like our Winter right now. So I'm bloody freezing. You think this is hot, mate, it gets to about 118°F in spring in Australia." Then I told them the big lie like your dad would tell you about walking 4 hours to school in 47ft of snow. "In summer it gets so hot we have to park our cars on the grass so our tyres don't melt.... You think I'm lying, last summer got to 50°C in my backyard. What's that in Fahrenheit? Like 130 or something?"

Some laughed, others thought I wasn't kidding. Then I looked at them and said "You yanks, bunch of poofs" and I skulled my beer.

Eventually the night was broken up by my cousin's husband shooting off what I think is a 44 magnum. Whatever it was, it was a hand canon that went off with such a bang, that the night critters shut up. It was with such an awesome sound that there was a ball of fire around the gun as it went off. The sound was incredibly deafening. Everyone shut up for a good minute. Then someone came back to Earth and said something smart about what goes up must come down. Now we had 15 or so people scared of a bullet coming back down to kill one of us.

Off to bed. The tent was set up, warm and cosy. We slept well and woke up the following morning ready to eat breakfast, pack up camp and head off on the Mojave trail to the next settlement. Breakfast was great, and allowed both America vs' Australia jokes to ensure. The bacon appeared and from then on the dares came in to see what we could eat bacon with. Using it as a swizzle stick for our milk shake, sausage wrapped in bacon, battered then deep fried. Bacon and donut sandwiches. It went on and on to the point where it almost got old. So we stopped, only to start up again when someone appeared out of nowhere with more bacon.

Camp was packed up, everyone went to the toilet. The food was eaten and we were off again. This time the leader of the convoy took us down a short cut. And as with all short cuts, most are never short. The distance travelled was cut by a significant amount, allowing us ample time to get to our next camp spot early, however, being a less used trail meant that there was some overgrowth to deal with.

The Jeeps were okay, being only slightly thinner, and with guards that stuck out. The mighty Dodge Ram was a little bit on the porky side to be sliding down these cactus overgrown trails of disuse. So, we walked a good 15 kilometres of the trail pulling cactus plants to one side to allow the vehicles to get through without scratches.

When we finally made it to the other side, we all said that the longer way would have actually been shorter in time, despite being further in distance. But either way, an adventure.

Our next stop was at a desert spring where fresh, cold water appeared out of nowhere. I took the opportunity to take a small hike on my own. Everyone took the low road (easy road). I took the high road (the not so easy road), and while everyone turned back and went back to the cars, I walked around and got lost. Don't fret, I did keep my eye on the cars and when they weren't in sight, I made sure I stuck to the trail. I made it up to a fence line and then decided to turn back, going back the low road and backing it back in time where everyone was waiting for me. Sorry :)

We got in the cars and drove some more, stopping a short while later at what I can only call an intersection. Two dirt roads met in a cross. We were the only ones around. All of a sudden another convey of Jeeps and 4X4's all surrounded us. I looked at Jeff and said "I can't believe it, a traffic jam in the desert. If this was Australia, we probably wouldn't run into another person for two weeks". Yet here we are. In the middle of a desert and we've run into not only a person, but many people. A group bigger than ours.

Since this created a traffic nightmare in the middle of nowhere, we had to shift around our cars to get everyone going in their respectful direction. A Jeep in the other group got their gearbox stuck in reverse. How, I don't know. But we checked out upon deciding that they (the group) was good to go.

On the trail again we finally made it to our spot. However, lots of other people had the same idea, coming to a camping area in the Mojave that appears to be quite popular. We had to turn around and find somewhere else.

We eventually did and it was nice. Nothing like the first place where there were light coloured, sandy hills, boulders and rocks. This place was cold, windy and full of black, volcanic rocks. It was amazing how cold it was, even with the sun up, and more laughs were made at the poor, weak Aussie who can't handle the cool air, with everyone else still in shorts and t-shirts boiling hot. Hahhahaha. We set up camp in the more secluded, cosy spot and the evening was pretty much a repeat of the previous night.

Waking up the next morning was lovely. I had in fact got up during the night to pee, being too lazy to dress up again, I walked into the dark desert with the moonlight shining off my bare arse. I stood there almost naked, apart from my footwear and a shirt, peeing into the cool night breeze and making sure it wasn't on someone's tent. Hahahahaha. It wasn't. I had walked a good 100 metres of so away from the camp site, with my only concern being stepping on a critter that might get mad and bite me, me screaming, the camp waking up and seeing me running around the site in my full Porky Pig outfit (shirt and no pants) and a snake hanging off my arse cheek.

Luckily the event went without a hitch. I finished my bit in watering a desert plant in the Mojave and walked back to my tent, got into my sleeping blanket and went back to sleep.

Breakfast consisted of the greasiest of greasiest breakfast burritos I've ever seen. Two kinds of bacon cooked in bacon fat, sausage, oil, hash browns and eggs. All wrapped in a tortilla. I tell you what, it tasted amazing.

An hour later, we had broken camp and were starting to make the trail out of the Mojave, slowly making our way home back to LA when we stopped at a lava tube where we all went in to look. It was brilliant. It was cool down there, which was contradictory to my belief of a lava tube being hot. Then again, if it was hot, what were the chances of climbing down into it? I spent a few minutes in there and then we ducked out to catch up with everyone else.

All of a sudden, an eruption!

From my belly. I had all of 2 seconds to run into the scrub. The low lying bushes offering me no privacy. I think the breakfast burrito had indeed made way through my system and wanted out. NOW!

I found a bush that offered some privacy and before I could get my pants down, I was gone. Sad to say, I have never felt more relief in my entire life. Once I got back to the cars, everyone was curious to what I was up to. I just said "Oh man, I'm so hungry right now I could eat another one of those burritos." I got laughed at for having the runs and I made fun of myself while poking fun at the cook "Those burritos: Goes in greasy, comes out easy."

From then on, was dubbed the Lava Tube king of the Mojave. Later than afternoon we made it out to Peggy Sue's 50's Diner. I loved it, and had I not been camping for three days, I would have loved to have had all the waitresses pose with me and get a picture taken.

Sadly, I didn't want to put them through that. They were too pretty, and their whole persona, with that great accent, the way they looked, the way they mentioned the specials, it was brilliant. I was taken back.

Then the food came out. It tasted great. While it was nothing special, just a burger with chips, it was the nicest I had in the U.S.

On the road again, we were off. Next stop home... well, not my home, my Cousin's. We made one last stop for them to have a smoke, and us to stretch our legs. I just wanted fresh air, but my wife wandered into a crazy shop full of quirky figurines and statues, gizmos and gadgets and all sorts of other things.

An hour or two later, we finally arrived home. Unpacked the car and showered, washed clothes and packed our bags, as this time tomorrow, we'd be at LAX getting on our plane to return to Australia.

The next morning was a lazy, reluctant morning. While I was happy on the idea of coming home, I was sad to be leaving my cousin's place. I was sad that my holiday was over and returning home meant getting back to work. I was sad that the last three weeks were over in a flash and that there were so many things, people and places I didn't get to see, hear or experience.

We did have one more adventure left in us. My cousin dropped us back off at the train station in Santa Clarita and our train arrived 12 minutes later, whisking us back to Union Station in L.A. From there we had to make it into Hollywood. Since my wife had never been, it was worth the effort of lugging around our luggage for the day. Sadly, being 22 years since I was in L.A. itself, proved that I had lost a lot of my memory of it. With the train system being a new addition for me, I had to get my bearings right. We walked down Sunset Blvd for about an hour until I remembered that the stars on the footpath were on Hollywood Blvd. Asking a random guy ensured I was mistaken and we dove up a side street that connects the two iconic roads together. Catching a bus, due to the distance made light work and we finally made it into a part of Hollywood that allowed us to meet a locally operated tour which took us around the place for the next 2 hours.

The great thing about that was, we didn't have to cart our luggage around, and it killed 2 hours of our time, which we had plenty of since our flight was due for 7pm boarding. It was still midday. So we hopped on the tour and off we went, with the most unfunniest comedian in L.A. He tried too hard, he talked waaaaaay to fast, even for an Aussie. If he went to Texas, I think people there would think he was speaking tongues. He made a black joke, and the black family behind us wasn't impressed. Well, technically, the kids and the husband laughed. I laughed too. But the wife was not happy. And rightfully so, the tour guide really wasn't funny at all.

Another local tour operator rolled up beside us with what can only be a coincidence, young Australian tourists on their worst behaviour. By this stage, the small van with a few customers on board knew I was from Australia and when they heard the young lads being idiots, they just ignored them. We all did. I then muttered "Ignore them. Not all us Australians are arseholes like them."

The tour continued and we got out of the van after seeing the Hollywood sign up close, both Hollywood and Sunset strip, Beverly Hills, famous houses, iconic houses, Rodeo Drive and a few other places that I really didn't care for, but I came along for the ride mainly because my wife had never seen the places and wanted to.

Sadly, my negative feeling about L.A. rubbed off on her and she wasn't happy with me being a party pooper. Sadly, L.A. had not changed for me one bit. Apart from forgetting how to get around the place, I did remember the people there, and while I do remember a great deal of people there that I loved and that loved me, I also remember the amount of people I met there that were really just life suckers. They made their own lives hell and wanted to take you down with them. The tour guide was one such person, continuously knocking L.A. The land of broken dreams. The high cost of living. I like hearing the truth from people, but I also like hearing a good lie, and I guess when you're a tourist, you want everything to be glamourised, even if you smell a turd. Roll it in glitter and let us bask in the sunlight that reflects off it. We know it's shit, but it's shiny. As a tourist on this tour, we received no such glitter. There wasn't even an attempt at polishing this turd. It was served on a paper plate and a plastic fork. Take it how you want. I enjoyed my time in L.A. because it was a time I used to really see, as an adult, if this town that influenced my beginnings so much was really as bad as I remembered.

The truth was this is still is. I didn't like L.A. I'd never ever live there. And looking at the time, we stopped for a refresher at Starbucks, caught some free wifi and started to make our way back to the trains to get to LAX.

Looking at the train map I discovered that we'd have to go through Compton and the surrounding areas. I said to my wife, "A lot can change in 20+ years, let's hope that my skin colour isn't an issue anymore." Recalling a time when I was transferred out of Grant School in Hollywood due to overcrowding in classrooms and shipped off in a bus, daily to a school near Compton, being picked on and threatened of my life, being the only white kid around. I thought it was a sick joke, but in reality, I have stab wounds and scars to remind me that it wasn't funny at all.

Riding the train through that area proved it was okay, but I never stopped to get out and see the place, however, the other passengers on the train did go from mostly white, to mostly black, then it was mostly empty on our way to the airport to catch the shuttle bus to the terminal.

To say the ride on the train was uneventful would be a lie. We did have one guy turn up, sit down and hold on to a large pink box in his arm. The large pink box contained images nude women, dancing on poles, and standing and sitting in various positions. At first I thought it was a blow up doll. It turned out to be a pole dancing pole.

However, the images suggested otherwise and one of two people made a comment, laughing. I laughed too, but  it wasn't so funny when at the next stop a young girl of maybe 5 or 6 years old got on, only to be told that perhaps she shouldn't sit there with her dad. All the girl did was stare at the box, and rightfully so. It was a hot pink box. She probably thought it was a giant Barbie doll, and found it hard to make out what the images of Barbie on the front of it had her doing.

Her dad realised and moved her.

Soon after, we changed trains to get on a different line and finally made our way to LAX. At this stage, we had a hunger to tame and knew that there wasn't going to be much on offer. We were over eating fast food, we didn't want overpriced, stale sandwiches, or a cookie. We wanted a nice warm meal. And we got it at this place with seafood.

I ended up ordering a vegetarian pasta which was so nice, hot and tasty and healthy, that my body went into shock at the healthiness of it, compared to the last weeks worth of food. I felt instantly better and we boarded the plane soon after, enjoying a nice flight home, listening to my iPod and my carefully chosen songs for the next 14 hours home. Arriving in Sydney, we dumped everything at home, walked around, relaxed and decided that we'd just order dinner and worry about cooking after we went shopping the following day.

My jet lag, something which only affected me for a day or two in the U.S. lasted nearly an entire fortnight back home. However, it was back to work and back to normal life again. Though since then we've stayed in Melbourne for a week and in New Zealand for a further week. So, this year has been all about travelling. I wonder where we'll go to next?


New York made an impression on me and I'd like to come back soon and do it my way. Starting off by seeing the New York I really wanted to see, The Bronx, Brooklyn, Queens, and all the other little boroughs that you never hear about. I want to eat more hot dogs from the road side, and I want to stand in Time Square again and marvel at the amount of power going through all those lights. I want to go to a bar and meet locals, become friends and see them again a week later.

I want to be back in Texas, sitting in a barn, eating a rack of ribs longer than my arm. I want to meet more of the friendliest people on the planet, Texans, who will offer you the shirt on their back and not want something of yours in return, or more because they did you a favour, now pay up bitch!

I want to go back to Arizona and Nevada and see The Grand Canyon, Monument Valley, take my wife to Disneyland and go to San Francisco. I want to come down to Terlingua and meet the people I blog with, the people I almost know as friends because I read about their lives and they read about mine. There's a lot I want to see that I didn't. So there's bound to be a second U.S. trip in the next 5 years. See you then.

United States trip - Part II

L.A. Sun. Babes. Beaches. Trash. Gangs. Dirty streets. Rude people. Nothing like New York and nothing like Dallas. New York had surprisingly nice people, after hearing all the horror stories of travellers gone by and Texas was the friendliest place I've ever been to in my life.

In fact, Dallas was a bit like Singapore. Clean as a whistle. Not a hair out of place. New York had its filth, just as Sydney does. But L.A. takes it to a whole new level, and some of it was from the attitudes of people.

Sadly, this was the image I remembered from 20 years ago. Nothing had changed at all. However, we were going on a short trip from the Greyhound bus terminal to Union Station. A marvel for me, since the last time I lived in L.A. there was no rail system. This was new, and it was good.

Clean, fast, and on time.

It took us just less than an hour to get to Santa Clarita. And when we got off the train we were immediately greeted with my cousin. YAY!

My favourite cousin. The sister to the other cousin I stayed with in Dallas TX. We drove to her factory where she runs her business Safari Straps. I have to plug her business. She makes the best 4X4 Off-Road straps there is. I watched, and helped with some of the manufacturing. So if you buy one you may end up with a strap made by a Fair Dinkum Aussie. They do take extreme pride in their workmanship. Each strap is hand made and inspected thoroughly. The slightest imperfection in a stitch is redone. They don't put band-aids on it. They pull it apart and do it again, right.

After half a day in the shop, it was time to get going to dinner. We had Mexican and then went home for a much needed shower. 36 hours on a Greyhound bus isn't exactly the cleanest of travel methods. As I stood in the shower and got wet, the water coming off me was murky, grey. Like the bus. I guess they live up to their name.

The following day we were on our way to the Mojave desert. The 4X4 was loaded up and ready to go. Coffee for breakfast, in the true American sense and served with this powered cream thing.... there was no milk. I'm not sure why. Milk is pretty much a staple here in Australia.

On the road again. This time we were on our way in comfort, and to somewhere special. The Mojave Desert.

My cousin's 4X4 wasn't small. Bigger than most 4X4's here in Australia. But comfy and powerful.

Part 3 coming soon :)

The Car!

Well, still no car. :(


It was booked in yesterday and I took it into the workshop. Here's how the story goes.


I booked it in for a service with the dealer as it was due for its 75,000 km service. I mentioned the alternator and said it's not charging.

I decided to put the battery on charge for an hour and also take my jumper pack with me just in case... not sure why but if the battery was dead, the jumper pack wasn't going to make any real difference.

I got her started, on my way to the dealer at about the half way mark, the ever glowing battery light started to flash. Then all of a sudden the beeps started. First ABS went out. Then the airbag system was "disconnected". Followed by a host of other features that make the car safe.

Then it came good for about 10 seconds. Then the tacho started to jump up and down, and the engine lost power. The speedo was also jumping up and down. The lights on the dashboard went out completely and the needles rested as if the car was turned off. I coasted down the hill, putting my hazard lights on, which was futile as there was NO power at all. They didn't even flash once. I got beeped at by cars behind me. And I tried to beep back, but having no power meant all I got was silence.

I coasted down the hill some more, getting ready to vere off the road and slowly pull the handbrake up to come to a stop. I came to a stop. I reached for the key, with my foot still on the throttle all of a sudden I patted her on the dashboard and said "It's okay baby, you got me this far." I reached for the key to turn the ignition off and all of a sudden she came back to life.

Engine idling to spec. Battery light not on. All systems were perfect. I dumped her into first gear, launched her back into traffic and gave her another pat on the dashboard, kissed her on the steering wheel and said "That's my girl... now let's get you to the doctor."

I raced to the dealership because I didn't want her Italian temperament (if it's anything like mine) to change direction and decide that NO, I DON'T WANT TO GO ANYMORE.

I made it to the dealer with nothing but a slight whirring sound coming from the front of the car. I suspect the alternator crying "ENOUGH with the spinning!!!"

I dropped her off and expected a phone call the following day asking me to come and get her. What really happened was a phone call two hours. The service was complete. However, the alternator wasn't good. With my permission it was sent off to an Auto Electrician, but first I was told about the 2-3 hours it'll take to remove it. I believed them. Because when I looked at it in the drive way, the only way it appeared to have access to the damned alternator was from the bottom of the car or maybe the side once the wheel was off and the inner guards were removed (if possible).

Either way, I had to sit down for the cost.

Then they informed me that the front discs needed replacing. I nearly exploded because they were replaced at the 60,000 service (European cars have "softer" discs that bite really well but wear out faster). I told the dealer that I don't want to be angry at him, however if he's going to lie to me about the car I will come over there and proceed to stick my size 12 foot up his size 1 virgin arse.

When I arrived to return the loan car which I only had that day, I looked at him as I marched into the workshop and he got up and ran off.

Another guy came out instead. Greeted me and explained the mistake about the brakes. I told him the other guy is lucky he ducked off for his "lunch break" otherwise I'd bent the brake discs around his neck"

Anyway, long story short. I got a call today that the alternator was sent to the auto electrician, not repairable, I must get a new one. So, the bill which includes the service and alternator comes to about $1,500 Australian Dollars TOTAL... So far.

When I get the car back I'll be more than likely putting it up for sale immediately. And I have begun my quest to find that old HR Holden I grew up saying I'd own one some day.

Doing without

2011 has been an interesting year. A year of change. Dramatic change.

In years gone by I have experienced a tremendous amount of things. Some years go by totally uneventful, while other years have been full on busy and pass by within a blink of an eye. Some years have gone by with one or two major events, while others have gone by with a series of smaller yet continuous events.

Either way, we all go through this. It's life, as they say. However, life as we know it is built up of many small things. No one does just one thing, no one ever has or will. We have many aspects that make up ones life.

But what happens when you take a part of what makes your life away?

Whether it's by choice or by force. Whether you like it or not.

Why have I asked this?

Well, two main reasons. One thing is that Dizzy's last blog spoke about doing without something that is essentially a great part of our modern lives. The computer, and worse still, a computer connected to The Internet.

How many of us can turn off our computer, go away for 6 months and not touch a single PC in that time?

I know that once I have access to a computer I must have it so I can check my email, update my facebook. Tell dirty joke or update myself on other blogs I read. But while I don't have access to a computer, it's almost as if I don't even know what one is. I can live without it. And while I don't have it, there are other things that can be done.

Something similar happened recently. Just after returning from the States and right before leaving for Melbourne for the Easter Long Weekend + an extra day thrown in for ANZAC day. So, with 5 days off in total, I haven't been able to get my car fixed.

Big deal! Right?

Truth is, I could easily do without my car because I walk to my music school. It's a leisurely 10 minute walk. However, when the car broke down, I really really needed it that day and no matter what I did to try and get back on the road, it seemed nothing worked in my favour.

Basically, the alternator on my car died. I got a few friends who made fun of my little Italian car. Calling it unreliable and such. But the funny part is, the alternator is Japanese. And the rest of the car still works like the day I bought it.

The really bad part about the car's alternator dying wasn't that the battery was flat, overcharging, undercharging or anything. It was that my little modern car which I bought brand new a number of years ago comes with electronic power steering. This way, a pneumatic pump doesn't power the power steering but an electronic one that runs off the 12Volts DC (or more accurately, 14.4V DC). When the charging system fails, even if it's a voltage drop, the power steering will disable itself. This is fine while you're driving, but parking is a workout.

So, now that I'm back in town, while I want the car fixed ASAP. I've started to look at my alternative modes of transport. My bicycle.

I have a nice mountain bike. A bike I bought in 2006 from a friends recommendation in order to be able to tackle the terrain we were heading out into on our weekend rides. The bike is brilliant. But it is quite purposeful. It is a hardcore mountain bike, and even putting road tyres on it doesn't help the clumsy thing when I use it to commute rather than tear up my local dirt trails.

So, while I have no choice but to make do without my car for now, I've made my own mind up that if I have to go shopping, work, or see a friend who lives in the area. I will be riding my bike.

I have also decided that once I fix the car, I'll probably think about selling it to only replace it with either a really really old car that I'll use the money from selling my newish car on restoring it to mechanical A1 condition. The car I want to get is either a HR Holden.

OR

A Morris Minor.

The HR Holden is a classic 60's Australian family car. Running a straight 6, and usually a 3 on the tree transmission. They are smooth, quiet, economical for their time and parts are readily available.

The sad part is, I wanted to buy one many years ago when they were just another bomb, rust bucket old Aussie car. Now people have found the "cool" factor to them and their value is starting to rise rapidly.

The Morris Minor on the other hand is still an unwanted piece of crap. But a strongly built English car. Small, but very economical and also has many parts available, still.

Why am I going old? Especially so old?

Simplicity.

Pure and simple.

It took me 30 minutes to diagnose a dead alternator on my car, even with the engine lights warning me there was no charge. With these modern cars, it could mean something as simple as a shorted wire or a faulty switch. And replacing the expensive component like an Alternator being completely useless if the problem still remains.

On an old car, if the warning lights come on saying there's no charge, it means, there's no bloody charge.

But that doesn't take away the fact that I can mostly do without the car. I rely on my car a lot. I would rather rely on other modes of transport like busses and trains. But Sydney's public transport system is so bad that I prefer driving. That way I get there on time and in comfort. Carting all my gear to gigs is also easier in a car.

Doing without the car was terror last week. This week I've accepted that I don't have a car right now and that I have alternatives that work.

I can't promise much, once my car is fixed next week. I may well resort to my old ways. However, I'll still at least walk to work every day.

What have you given up or tried to do without that's important to you and your life?

United States trip

20 years ago I left the US. I promised myself, as a teenager that I would never step foot into that country again.

My experience living in the US for 5 years were less than savoury. So you can understand as a young, impressionable kid, a few bad experiences can make you think that the entire place is awful.

Fast forward 20 years and I decided that it was time to head back there for a visit. The reasons are many, but mostly because of my re-uniting my with two cousins, and thought about all the time. I use to think the usual things like "I wonder where they are now?" and "I wonder what they're doing these days?"

But I'll get to my cousins in a second. For now, I'm going to go through the trip in chronological order of happenings. And I tell ya, there are some happenings.

Surprisingly, our taxi in Sydney arrived on time. It got us to the airport on time and we made the flight without busting an o-ring. We had so much free time at the airport that my wife window shopped. Something we seldom experience due to late taxis.

So, there we were, going through our usual security checks when the guard pulls me up. This happens every single time I travel. This time was no surprise, being no different and I got another opportunity to memorise the bomb threat/inspection/interrogation/internal inspection disclaimer letter I have to read each time I enter an airport. Either I look like a terrorist or my face is actually up somewhere in all the airports of the world stating that I am a suspect.

The guard confided that this was random, but I knew otherwise, they're all out to get me. :p

Finally, we were on the plane. We got our seats and waited to taxi, then my favourite part, taking off. I love the acceleration and the power. It is the best part of air travel. Taking off and landing are the highlights, and looking out into the ocean and seeing a boat is another highlight. I love flying.

Nothing much happened on the plane. It was a usual plane ride like no other. The guy sitting next to us was partially blind, however towards the end of the flight we got talking and he was returning to LA which is where he is from. He spent a few months in Australia with friends and family.

We landed at LAX and took our time getting to the connecting flight to New York mainly because we decided to book a later connecting flight because of the last time I was at LAX, it took 2 hours to get out of there. Plus, since I have my suspicions that I'm blacklisted for security interrogation across the globe and that can take anywhere between 5 minutes to 5 hours, our flight connecting to JFK Airport, New York was about 5 hours away after we landed at LAX. Time to relax, nap, enjoy a book, eat, watch other people do the same thing, and finally we still had hours to go :(

We sat around, ate nasty airport food because, we sadly found out that LAX has dismal food choices unless you love Burger King and Starbucks. We've been a bit spoilt with Sydney Aiport, it's like a shopping centre that happens to have planes drop by every few minutes.

We finally boarded American Airlines and noticed that the flight attendants were twice to three times older than the pretty ones on V-Australia. Sadly, one of the nice things about flying is checking out the hot stewardesses. V-Australia (Virgin Airlines) makes an effort to hire young, cute girls. It seems that AA couldn't give a rats about how their flight attendants look. One stewardesses arse was so big that it bumped into everyone on the way up and down the isle. The "Free Wi-Fi" on the AA flight also didn't work. But these are nitpicks. I'm not pointing out bad points, just telling a story.

We finally landed at JFK and got our bags. Got outside and caught a big yellow taxi cab into New York City. It was nice that the long taxi trip from JFK to NYC had a set fee of $45 regardless of traffic. We arrived at our hotel and absolutely loved the service at the front desk, it was midnight, we had been flying for 18 hours, not including the 5 hour wait at LAX for the connecting flight.

We loved the room we had. It was neat and small. Just how we like it. We didn't splurge on a hotel because we only needed a clean bed and a warm shower. We didn't care for room service, we didn't need awesome views because we'd be out in the views rather than looking at them from inside our hotel room.

New York City was cold. I don't mean metaphorically. It had apparently snowed the day before. We didn't believe it because everyone was talking about Spring. But it was cold which we later on found out was because it had snowed a few hundred kilometres up the road, closer to Canada. Our first night wasn't anything special since we arrived there at midnight. We literally got out the hotel, turned a corner and were on to Broadway and were immediately greeted with Time Square. My wife picked the hotel on purpose. It was close to where she really wanted to be... Broadway. She likes theatre and went to see a show later the following day.

Time Square was incredible. So much going on. Lights, buildings, traffic and people. I stood right in the middle, did a slow 360 degree turn and took it all in. Then I commented, "Look at the consumption". I must say, I am going to debunk a few myths and things I remember from my youth living in LA.

Myth 1: We didn't see any typically "fat Americans" in NY. In fact, my wife and I were the fatties.
Myth 2: New York is fast paced. WRONG. All my wife and I did was walk everywhere. Even with our tired, cold, wet feet we were usually ducking left and right between crowds who were dawdling along. At first I thought they were tourists like us. But their accent gave it away. They were New Yorkers for sure.
Myth 3: NY is jammed full of people. WRONG. Which part? We walked all the way to the Staten Island Ferry and the crowds were no different than walking through the centre of Sydney on any given day. It's just that New York City is probably about 40 times larger than the Sydney city area.
Myth 4: New Yorkers are not nice people. Rubbish! Everyone in NY was approachable. I got spoken to and I spoke to people, and everything was cool. A woman at Burger King order a Big Mac by mistake, and we all laughed about it. I recall, if such a thing happened in LA and I laughed along, I'd probably be told off at best. NY had great people there.
Myth 5: You can't go wrong with food in New York. Wanna bet? My wife and I are use to healthy eating. We buy our food directly from farmers. We don't deep fry everything. But the best food we found was either a typical New York style pizza or a hot dog from a street vendor. The servings of food were mammoth. It was definitely quantity over quality.

The only time something went wrong in NY was with our Metro cards that we bought to catch the subway, which is incredible in itself because unlike Sydney's public transport system. The subway works. But I'll get to that in a second. The station master we spoke to so we could make heads and tails of the subway system ripped us off. We asked for a ticket with enough credit on it to last 3-4 trips. We took two trips on the subway and the third time the tickets didn't work. When we checked the tickets, there was $5.50 and each trip cost $2.25. But with $10 on the cards, we expected a few more than 2 trips. When I inquired about it to the station master at the next station, he just let us through the side door. The following time we used the tickets again, and the machine said we only had a $1.70 on it. Not even sure how that's possible. But the cards were broken and we were let in the gate again.

We figured since we had more "credit" up our sleeve, credit we had in fact paid for, we'd play dumb the next time we used the subway. We didn't feel it was theft because we had actually paid for our trips, so we used this tactic righteously. On our way back from Brooklyn, the same thing happened and we coaxed the station master to let us through the door. He actually checked the tickets and it said that my wives ticket was used 7 times and mine only 4. But we'd both used our own tickets equally. So when I told him that the tickets should still let us through then we should be let through. So the door opened and off we went again.

Brooklyn was the first and only place we went to off Manhattan island. We crammed so much into one place that we didn't get to see any other part of NY. And maybe one day we'll go back again and try the rest of the place. But for now, we saw what we saw. However, next time we will take a trip to Brooklyn again, and also see the Bronx, Jersey and so on.

We went to the top of the Empire State Building. We went to Radio City, Rockefeller Plaza to the top of the Rock. We went to Grand Central Station. We went to Macy's. Bloomingdales, Union Square was great with all the artists and street vendors on a Sunday. We went to see the Statue of Liberty and we went through Wall Street, where I saw this plaque.

The other issue I had which wasn't with New York, but American telephone companies was that none of them could sell me a pre-paid SIM card with credit for phone calls, texts and data. I had my iPhone with me and planned on using it to email and keep in touch. Sadly, due to neither telco supporting my predicament, I was left without a phone, but Time Square had free wifi. So at 1am I was standing in the snow, checking email, messaging cousins, customers, etc.

The myth about food was a shame. However, I have to say that we didn't get to venture into Chinatown or Little Italy. But what we did have wasn't great. Breakfast at The Roxy was so greasy that we both felt ill. Lunch was just as bad. Dinner was quantity over quality. My wife wasn't happy with her meal at all while I enjoyed mine, it was a lot and it was seasoned to the brink. A few other places were much the same. Awful food, too much of it and over priced. We didn't expect to spend $100 a meal on what would have cost half as much in Australia with half as much food, but twice as nice. I was surprised and disappointed because I was expecting awesome food there but got mediocre and broke the bank.

My wife was dubious about the pizza places. But I finally coaxed her to try one and she loved it. That's why we went to Brooklyn. We tried to find this pizza place her friend from work suggested. We didn't find it, and that trip to Brooklyn was our last day there. In fact, we cut it so close that we had to leave the place right after eating the pizza, get on the train, back to the hotel, quickly check out, and cab it to LaGuardia to get our flight to Fort Worth, Dallas Texas. Ye-hawww!

Texas was the first stop of my family reunion. Seing my cousin Raz. His sister followed in LA, but more on that later. Raz was waiting for me at the airport. But having had issues with my phone, I didn't get back to him to let him know when I planned on landing there. Luckily he's a smart bugger and went online to see what flights were coming into Ft. Worth, Dallas TX from NY that day. He picked the right plane and caught me just as I walked out into the street. Perfect!

Seeing my cousin was surreal. The last time I saw him he was just out of high school. I was still in primary school. This was going to be a family catch up. Texas wasn't going to be a tourist leg of our trip across the U.S. And while I'm sure there may have been some tours ready for us to book in, I just wanted to spend time with my cousin.

The plan was to relax, spend time with him, even if it meant going to work with him. He owns a great car workshop called Top Gun and he's doing well. If you're in that area and need your car looked at, tell Raz that his cousin Steve sent ya.

I did in fact go into the workshop for a few days. I got my hands dirty with a quad bike in the back that was being worked on recently and we got her started. But she was running hot. I cleaned the carburettor jets out and made some adjustments. We got her going again.

One morning my cousin left his car at home and went into work with his business partner, John. I knew John from back when I hung out with my cousin. But I couldn't remember him very well though. He remembered me. But the more time I spent with them two, the more I remembered. They were two fun guys. And we went out to a few places around Texas that were pretty cool.

We ate this massive appetiser dish we all shared and made us full. We didn't need our mains, but we ate them anyway. We were about to explode. The waitress was nice too. She was definitely working it that evening and I left my cousins phone number on the receipt I signed next to my credit card signature.

The area we ate at was very much a younger crowd area in what appeared to be a hang out for university students. Either way, the food was good, the drinks were good and the service was good. In fact, I also want to make a point that despite how good or poor quality the food was, we felt that the service we received was always top notch. Every waiter and waitress most definitely earned their tips and we weren't shy about it because my wife and I appreciate service... even if the food wasn't to our usual standards.

On our last night in Texas, we went out to this barn cross steakhouse where everything was BIG. It really lived up to the Texas adage of everything being bigger in Texas. It was HUGE.

The other thing that stood out in Texas was the people. Every single person I met was friendly. I thought New Yorkers were approachable. I could say "G'Day" to a Texan and it was like we were best friends. Travis, who I met at the workshop ended up hanging out with me all day and we talked about everything.

Texas was great. I think I could live there. It was warm, dry and the crime rate is low because everyone has a gun, and if you're on my property, I can shoot you with it, no questions asked. In Australia, if I shoot a trespasser, I'll ened up in prison for murder if they die. If they live, they can sue me. And I'm somehow the criminal. I think I like Texas.

A couple of the locals who came in and out of the workshop said I fit right in, though all I have to do is talk slower and say "Y'all." And Ye-Haw! I'm a Texan. Hahahaha.

We left Texas, not the way we planned. I imagined hiring a car and driving to Monument Valley. I wanted to pass by The Grand Canyon and eventually heading into LA to see my other cousin. Sadly, hiring a car wasn't possible. Nothing was available.

So I looked at flights, screwing the idea of seeing The Grand Canyon and Monument Valley. But I'm use to flying from one side of Australia to the other for around $150. And even cheaper if you get in at the last minute. Not so in the U.S. The closer to the date, the prices increase. Even if the seats are empty, they were more expensive. Like $600 a ticket. I wasn't paying that.

So while thinking about things, all of a sudden I remembered Greyhound. Sadly, I remembered Amtrak when I had already booked our non-refundable Greyhound tickets. But I was assured via the Greyhound website that they have new busses, with free wifi and comfy seats.

But what I discovered was that Greyhounds website was a lot like a McDonald's menu. The meals all look good. But when you get your tray and sit down to open the packaging, you realise you just paid a few dollars for a lump of sustenance that might as well be blended and drip fed into your body to save you the visual emptiness of total disappointment as you unwrap your luke warm burger.

I was tempted to jump off the bus when I saw the sign that said "75 Miles - Marfa" and somehow hitching a ride to Terlingua.

Sadly, that didn't happen, but the 34 hours of Greyhound bussing about across the United States, we finally made our way into LA. And we were so pleased, but we were also filthy. We felt dirty. I've been camping in the middle of summer and not felt as dirty as this.

But apart from being crammed into a small chair with next to no padding and little adjustability. The Greyhound was an experience you couldn't replicate. The characters we met on board. The places I got to see cannot be seen flying.

Having said that, I should have remembered Amtrak. Because the trip would have taken just as long but with added comfort and the ability to eat while still moving. Greyhound should be avoided at all cost. It is truly a filthy ride.

However, once we arrived in LA, the sun was out, it was warm and the air was filled with smog. Good old LA. Nothing has changed in the 20 years since I've seen you.

Life's blows

I recently posted a comment on a friends blog I thought I'd share here.


Life's blows. I use to cry at the hits I use to take. "woe is me..." blah blah blah.


The hits that come now run off me like water off a ducks back. Yes, I'm still human, but I have learnt that a once sensitive person can change. I am still sensitive, but it's more about being compassionate rather than emotionally unstable. I learnt that sticks and stones can break my bones, but names, and what anyone thinks or says about me can't hurt me.


But we can only try our best. Sometimes our heart says one thing and the mind gets ignored, and visa versa on other days. When you stop and truly listen, then you will know the answer, the correct answer every time.


The joke is, there is no correct answer, just the best suitable one for the moment. Me being a Librian, I'm very good at weighing up my options. My life is a constant crossroads and I deal with the burden of which road to take on a daily basis.


I close my eyes and let the road choose me. Each road will have its own faults. As humans, we find a reason to complain about anything. This road is too straight, this road is too curvy. This road is too long, that road wasn't long enough. This road is bumpy, that road was too smooth.


I see each road like this:


That road was really straight.
That road was really curvy.
That road was really long.
That road was just the right length.
That was a bumpy ride.
That road was really smooth.


My statements have a slight twist. But it's enough to make it a good change. Two things happened in those sentences. The former examples were present tense. The latter examples were past tense. And I changed the common word from "too" to "really".


My brain has gone blank, telling me it's time to shutup now :)

Another week and a bit

In another week and a bit I will be heading to the States. I can't wait to see my Cousins. My iPod is ready for the trip. Fully charged and all my songs loaded up on it.

The last couple of lessons at the music school remain and most of the students are happy for the short break they're going to get. Once I return though, they will be continuing their lessons through their school holidays.

There have been a couple of new developments at the school. I'm going to start some new and fresh ideas that have already shown some interest from existing customers. I'll have to fill you in later. But in the meantime, I'll be slowly preparing for my trip.