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.

Fiji time

It's a beautiful thing if you can appreciate it. But then again, you already see the beauty in anything if you appreciate it. For if you didn't, you wouldn't think of it as a beautiful thing at all. Fiji is one of those places.

I've seen it on both sides of the coin. The resort style living where tourism brings in a heap of money into the economy. I've also seen the real side of Fiji. The side most of my wife's brothers live in. Dwellings with one bedroom that the entire family share. Families that can't afford to buy bread, so resort to stealing it or begging for it.

It's not all doom and gloom. The people are partly like this because they are truly lazy people. I don't blame them either. The heat we lived through slowed me right down. I pretty much crawled everywhere I walked. And the places I drove to, or more realistically got driven to because I didn't hire a car this time around was at a crawling pace anyway.

On a particular night I was chilling out with my brother-in-law I met a friend of his, who is actually the ex-husband of his wife's sister... did you get all that? Well, he asked me what I did, and I have made it a goal for me to ask the same in return once I spill the beans on my career and personal life to a stranger who asks me. When I did, he told me he's a vehicle import/export agent. And he is soon relocating to Japan, invited me along and said I'll love it. He doesn't know me well, but he picked that. Japan is a place I have thought about visiting on many occasions.

Japan will have to wait for another day. In the mean time, Fiji is nice and close, and for once on our travels to the airport, our taxi arrived to pick us up from our home on time. Every other time we've booked a taxi, it has never shown up or turned up with 30 minutes for us to get on a plane, us stressing out because the trip to the airport takes 45 minutes. This taxi driver turned up before our arranged time and was friendly, got us to the airport on time and wished us a good trip.

Taxis in Fiji are funny. All the cars are pieces of shit. They rattle, shake and rattle some more. The smoothest of roads isn't enough to stop the rattling. And since their meters don't function properly they just pull a figure out of the air when you ask them how much it costs to get to a certain destination. While you often think you're being swindled, when you convert their dollar to yours and factor in the distance to travel between villages, it's all worth it in the end. But on this occasion when we went through customs and got out of the airport, my wife's brother was waiting for us, with the van running and the air-con on. What a brother.

Getting through customs in Sydney on the other hand was my usual event. Each time I go through the place, I get held up for something. Last time was something I forgot. A camping spoon. Considered a weapon, thanks to 9/11. A spoon! This time around I got called over to a guy checking for bombs. Why me? Because, I have to always get called over for something. The guy handed me a letter I have to read and verbally agree to which discusses things like me accepting the fact that I might get asked to strip off and be examined outside and in. I agreed, much like software installation, because if I don't, I don't fly.

They checked my bag for any bomb making chemical residue. They found nothing. Surprise surprise. And my wife and I went on our way to get on our plane.

Arriving in Fiji, you're greeted with a more laid back attitude. Customs smile at you. Then you leave the air-conditioned section once your bags are collected and you go into the heat.

The van was a warm welcome.... err, a cool welcome? We were off to our hotel. We checked in, received decent service and were surprised for that in a place like Fiji. Trust me, I'm not being negative or anything derogatory. But the service in Fiji is pretty much non-existant whether you stay in a roach motel, or a 5 star hotel. Ours was a 4.5 star hotel. However, Fiji-afied, it was more like a 3 star place. Which kinda sucks because you're paying 4.5 star prices.

We did have a choice of staying with my brother-in-law but decided it would be better if we hotel it so we didn't intrude, and we could be a bit more free to head out and do our own thing when we want.

The next morning the girls went out, shopping. What else? Us boys went to pick up 7 tables and 40 chairs from the party hire place as the main reason we went to Fiji was because of my brother-in-laws daughters first birthday. We thought we'd need two trips but made it in one. Once we arrived at the party hire place, I was warned that the girl there is cute and single, and may jump on us. He was right about the first two parts. The third part was only a day dream. She was pretty cute.

We arrived at the house to offload the party gear and set up the PA sound system, when we got there the tent hire people were there and preparing to set up the bigtop. I call it a bigtop because once it was erected, you could see it from miles away. It was about 25m X 10m in an oval shape. It did well to keep out the hot sun, but unfortunately did a decent job of breaking the wind too and it was a nice breezy day. Luckily towards the end of the day the sun dropped into the sea and the breeze picked up a bit more, we all sat around drinking, playing cards, telling jokes, laughing at nonsense and general chit chat about nothing in particular.

I was hungry again, so I ate a bit more. Everyone else thought it was a brilliant idea and followed suite. The night was over and while we sat around chatting some more, some other mates turned up. One of them was the guy I mentioned above who offered me a place in Japan. I didn't get his number, but I know who's got it and he knows I'll be getting it off them.

We caught a taxi back to the hotel that night for $40. Not bad considering our taxi ride home from the airport this afternoon cost $45 and was half the distance. We got out the taxi and the first thing the porter at the hotel said was "Where did you get that bag?". Pointing to the Pure Fiji soaps and bath gels that I really like. I told the guy it was a gift. He interrupted with "You know we have a Pure Fiji outlet right here". So I repeated, "It was a gift from family. I didn't buy it. If you have a retail outlet selling them then maybe you should speak to your boss about advertising the fact in the documentation you get next to the telephone in our room."

The fact was, there was no information about the hotel in our room. We weren't sure what the hotel had and were really never there long enough to investigate. We didn't know about the services or restaurants. It didn't really matter, but it pissed me off a little when the guy told me all about them like I should have known.

"But this is Fiji", I reminded myself, and everything was okay again. The next day we did absolutely nothing at all. We stayed in the hotel, relaxed and read our books until the afternoon when we were to meet the relatives at one of the backpacker resorts they own just outside of Nadi (pronounced Nan-dee). We hung around, walked on the beach. Swam in the beach, of which the water was hot. Not warm, but hot. It cooled down the further out you went. So we hung around in the deeper water until I had enough. I got out, dried off, and then we sat on the beach talking. My wife fell asleep on the hammock and these two guys who were part of the "band" came around after hearing about me and my playing ability. The must have been told from the relatives. I didn't give too much away, so I just said I play a little bass, as this requires no thinking on my part. I just get up and play. They told me they had a drummer and a bass setup. But when we waited around for 3 hours during the power failure, I discovered that it was just them two, singing with an acoustic guitar with a bit of accompaniment from the friend with an electric guitar.

They sounded great. Everyone had left by now so my wife and I decided to eat dinner there. It was highly recommended, but it is a cheap and nasty backpackers resort, so the food wasn't what quality I'd normally eat. But it was food, and in Fiji you can't complain when you eat. Some people don't get to at all.

We headed back to the resort, showered and went to bed. The next morning we spent even more time lazing about the resort. We checked out the eating places, the beauty salon (which my wife rejected upon hearing the crazy price) and we walked around and looked at the rest of the place. I luxuriated in the air-con the rest of the time. I continued reading my book, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A frustratingly good book. Frustrating because it goes way over my head with all the words in it, but in the end all makes sense. It truly is a book of values.

The next day we were off to Denarau, the marina where we took a day trip on my wife's brothers boat out to an island the size of an umbrella. I drank and drank, and when we arrived at the island, we drank some more. Then went snorkelling. I took my wife's camera as it goes underwater up to 10 metres without the use of any special and cumbersome casing. We arrived back at the marina in the afternoon and went back to our hotel to shower and change because later that evening we were to be picked up and taken to the Marina in Denarau where my brother-in-laws boat sat. We drank some more, hung out a bit and then went into town in Nadi to eat at a nice Chinese restaurant.

The service, much like everywhere else in Fiji was dismal, but if you expect it, you'll be happy with getting any service at all.... thinking back to my posts about lowering your expectations, or abandoning them all together. The food was okay, the service was slow, but prompt for Fiji. The price of the meals were okay too, though our family paid for it on the sly before we noticed and tried to argue chipping in or paying for the lot.

We were dropped off at our hotel and did some rudimentary packing. I showered and went to bed while the wife stayed up and packed. I let her do it because my packing habits are embedded into my brain from my motorcycling days. I pack light, I fit everything in tightly, not neatly. On the other hand my wife likes to pack things properly. So I figured I'll save the argument and sleep on it. Waking up this morning, we ate what small bits of bread we had in the hotel room that we bought from the bakery the previous day. We did a check up of the place to make sure that we had it all packed. Once all clear, we checked out, caught a taxi to my brother-in-laws who was going to take us to the airport since he was going to see us off anyway. We ended up eating lunch there and then we were off to the airport. I got given a clock I thought was funny earlier that has all the numbers in a heap on the bottom of the clockface, and it just says "Who Cares". The hands move properly. I loved it. The alternative was a clock with all the numbers out of order and it said "Fiji Time".

Fiji time is what we say when things take too long after you've asked for them. Like your meal taking 2 hours, or your brother saying he'll be there at 12, only to arrive at 4 in the afternoon. Fiji time is great. Because it stands for "Who Cares", it stands for "So What", it stands for what I'd like to tell all my clients "No one has a gun to your head". I don't think it's that Fijians don't care. I think it's just their way.

There are exceptions, the taxi we caught to the bro's house was hooking all the way there. overtaking everything at any opportunity. It was almost like someone put some berocca in their V or Red Bull. That, or a chili up their butt. I was trying to show my wife some places I'd been with her brother but they went by so fast that by the time I pointed it out, it was gone.

Into the airport, without a hitch. This time my wife got picked on, which never happens. She was told to put her cream she had in her bag in a zip lock bag or something. Which she did to avoid any complications. We were through, said our goodbyes to the family and went to buy some duty free. I never really like duty free because it's almost like impulse buying. I don't do it. I have all the alcohol I need for a few years, and I supplement that with beer. The good stuff only comes out once in while. Besides that, I don't smoke, so cigarettes are out of the question. The clothes aren't really practical as I don't plan on wearing bula shirts (hawaiian style shirts with flowers all over them) every day. Then I noticed my flip flop. One of them was wonky and I realised that after 8 years of service, the strap was coming away from the hole it was mounted in. At first I figured that they offered me a great deal of service for a number of years. but then looked at them and realised I could at least attempt at super glueing them when I got back home. I'll try tomorrow in the light. No point in throwing out a good pair of thongs just because of a small break.

So, duty free shopping was over, we boarded the plane, told we were upgraded from economy to premium economy. But at the end of the flight I told my missus that I thought economy was actually better, and premium economy was a con job. Her private tv screen kept flopping down, needs tightening and I didn't have any tools on me, once again, thanks to 9/11. We both found the seats to actually look more comfortable but were really less comfortable with our seat of the pants experience.

We arrived without any commotion in Australia this afternoon. Customs didn't pick on me at all. We were out of the plane and out of the airport in about 10 minutes. In a taxi and home in about 30 minutes after that.

And that's our trip in a great big nutshell. Next I'll talk about working in Fiji and the gap between the rich and the poor.