Olympic rings and flying bicycles

Back in the US but not before the comic ineptitude of US customs. We were last off the boat from Victoria and they stopped us and asked for our documents for the car. Not only that but for some reason I had to take all my cash out of my wallet and put it back in again. The baffled customs officials couldn't understand how we'd managed to buy and run a car legally. After me explaining the same thing four times they let us through. I think they just gave up trying to understand.
The weather has turned toward the snow once again. It's fairly deep but manageable.
We are now on the Olympic Peninsula. It's a large forested area with large mountains and lakes. It's also a National Park. In America, like everything, you have to pay to enter most National Parks. It ranges from $10-20 so we buy an $80 annual pass which covers us for all parks across the country including places like Grand Canyon and Death Valley.
We make the slow ascent up to Hurricane Ridge along a snow covered treacherous road. Up at the top it's a snow covered playground. People are snowboarding down steep hills and thumbing lifts back up to the top, walking around in snowshoes or pushing along on cross-country skis. We have nothing, as usual. But this doesn't perturb us from going for a walk in thick snow. People come past us on skis and on fancy snow shoes and look at us like we've just crash landed from Mars. Excellent views even though it's hard work getting there.
After heading up past Seattle to collect the rest of our insurance and car documents we head to the capital of Washington State, Olympia.
A large white domed building is the centre of government and can be seen from the freeway. Olympia itself is only a few streets large and has a small amount of arty/trendy shops and bars.
We drive on towards the coast and through the hometown of Kurt Cobain, Aberdeen. It's a fairly gritty logging town that consists of lots of logs floating in water and cap and chequered shirt wearing guys driving large pick-up trucks. The grey skies and continuous rain add to the scene.
The coast is a decent drive and we plough on south hoping the weather will improve and we end up crossing the long steel bridge, one of many great looking bridges on the way, over the Columbia river into the state of Oregon. The town in which we enter is Astoria. We pass through not taking much notice. We find out late that not only was this town the setting for the 80's classics The Goonies and E.T. but also many other films have used it's pretty streets as a backdrop. Ah well. It's not really too surprising when you drive down the coast here as it's stunning. Bloody freezing, but stunning. We couldn't miss out on Oregon's capital Portland so we headed inland through a scarily icy and snow covered forest pass. An intense drive as the night looms in.
Portland is a decent looking city and has a decent Jazz music reputation. It also breaks all tramp-speed records for being asked for money. It was under ten seconds of setting my feet on the pavement to being asked by a nutjob for cash. Great start. Surprisingly though that was pretty much it as far as crazies went, apart from a bedraggled guy dragging a large sleeping bag along the wet tarmac. I can't help liking the place and it's mini-New York looks. There's also a great square and a block of food vendors in vans selling excellently cheap and yummy food. It beats the usual fast food chain crap by a mile.
We buy a tent on the edge of town taking advantage of Oregon being a state that has no sales tax. Lovely. Unfortunately after a drive back to the coast and putting the tent up that night we discover that this ex-display model has rips and holes in it. Bollocks. We'll have to take it back.
We take in more of the wind battered and rain sodden coast first and all of a sudden we're driving besides huge sand dunes. Guys are motorbiking over them and down towards the water. I've never seen anything like it. Smooth desert like dunes right on a rainy coast.
We drive back inland after some great fish and chips at a nautical themed old petrol station across the road from a diner with classic American cars chopped in half and stuck outside the building. Thankfully the road back inland is far more negotiable this time round.
We take the tent back and for some reason the sight of all this snow and Oregon's lack of sales tax and a sale on in the sports store gives me a brief loss of all my normal penny pinching ways and we buy a load of snowboarding gear. There's no doubt it's over half the price it would be in England but still it could seem slightly mental for a round the world trip. 'Sod it', I thought and then realised we'll have to have all this stuff in the car for the next 4 months! Crikey.
The plan now involves no snow, typically, as we head back to the coast and down south and into California, the state which some how keeps the rain away and the skies blue. Well that's my distorted memory of it.

Back to British

Passing through Canadian customs we head towards Vancouver Island and back into the Canadian state of British Columbia. It's a fairly large island just off the coast from Vancouver itself. We pass through Vancouver on the way to the ferry and happen upon a long street near downtown that we didn't see during our stay. It was lined with homeless people pushing trolleys or lie on the pavement with rubbish sprawled around them, possibly for sale. Skeleton looking drug addicts fish in the bins whilst guys in wheelchairs hold cardboard signs asking for money. It's an even bigger problem than I'd thought.
We carried on north to catch a morning ferry from a small town in a bay. The ferry ride was decent enough with views back on towards Vancouver and the nearby mountain ranges. It's damn cold though.
We land in the grim port town of Nanaimo and head west across the island through dense forest. It's still cold be we talk a couple of icy walks through some immense tree groves and a waterfall or two. It's all very picturesque.
An overnight stop in Port Alberni in the middle of the island shows off the sunset on the snowy peaks just behind. Although Port Alberni is in the middle of the island it has a large inlet from the ocean in which boats bring and take goods in from. It's another non too special looking place.
The drive towards the west coast from here is spectacular and we often pass or stop off at beautiful still mirrored lakes.
It's fairly quiet and the trees and mountains of this island are almost reminiscent of New Zealand. Snow surrounds us everywhere now and is piled higher than the car by the roadside.
We arrive on the west coast and at the Pacific Rim National Park. It's another UNESCO World Heritage Site. There are walks a plenty here that are mainly over slippery boardwalks in lush forests. It's a stunning place. After a boggy walk we stroll for an hour or so through thick rainforest to arrive on a rugged beach on which waves hammer the jagged rocks and pebbled beach.
The west coast of Vancouver Island is unprotected from the force of the Pacific Ocean and it gets battered constantly, no wonder there are a few surf shops around here. The driftwood here is huge. Giant trees have been buffeted about by the tumble-dryer ocean and stripped of their bark before being thrown onto the shoreline. It's a good place to get away from it all too as no-one is around. The weather is a bit drizzly and cold but the whole place looks mysterious and moody because of it. We stop in a town and eat great fish and chips and ponder over the amount of surfers that must frequent the place in summer.


We hit Long Beach the next day and it certainly lives up to it's name. A wide and long stretch of dark sanded beach that curves on into the distant sun which is masked by spray from the pacific. A couple of brave souls run into the sea with boards. Nutters!
A small aboriginal community live next to the beach in run down houses all with satellite dishes.
We wander into another dense forest in which two large bald eagles swoop by us to attack some prey in a tree. It scares the life out of me at first, they were soo close and the place had been deathly silent beforehand.


We drive further along the coast, heading north, to arrive at the end of the road in the town of Tofino. It's a small place and not bad looking. It's a life based around water here. A family waits by the dock for a small boat to come and take them and their shopping across the bay. A couple of seaplanes bob around by the dock waiting to fly off towards the mountains. The blues of the sky and the water seem accentuated as the family boards a boat across the bay towards their roadless town.
The sun sets across Long Beach and it's thin layer of water glistens over the wide stretch of sand. Back inland to Port Alberni and stories of real cold weather further north from the motel owner. He told us in his younger days people had to leave their cars running whilst they went into supermarkets or else they'd freeze up. They'd have two sets of keys. Now there's points at supermarkets where you can plug your car in to stop it turning into a block of ice whilst you go and buy groceries. Serious cold and I want none of it!
Driving towards the east coast the sky is clear and the mountains are in full view reflecting off the huge lakes we pass. We reach a small town called Chemainus. This town was falling apart a few years back. It couldn't sustain itself until someone came up with the idea to paint a couple of large murals outside. This sparked more murals and now the town is covered with various murals depicting local history, some better than others.

The mural idea was to bring tourists, and therefore money, into town. It worked a treat and made the town decent looking too.
Multicoloured wooden houses add to the scene as well as small town shops and the odd totem pole thrown in for good measure.
Further on down the road we stop at the tired town of Duncan. We drive around a couple of available motels that all look like sets from films about drug addicts. We pick the best of a bad bunch.
On we go to the capital of the state of British Columbia, Victoria. I thought it odd that the capital wasn't Vancouver and that a state capital would be off the mainland. But Victoria justifies it's status. It's a nice city that's a decent size not to be crowded but not to be completely deserted either. As it's name suggests, it's a fairly English looking place and has plenty of European style buildings. A decent harbour adds to the place and is a decent place to stroll that is overlooked by the large and grand government building and a vine covered hotel both designed by the same 24 year old architect. Inside the government building you can wander around taking in a bit of Canadian history and it's British background.
Big thanks have to be mentioned to Jen at this point for putting us up, and up with us, for the days we were in the city. Including the excellent food she made for us and supplying us with Lucky beer! You really helped us out.
Nearby we take a day out of the city to go to Sooke pot holes. This is an area worn down and smoothed off by gushing water that has made deep pools in the rock.
Back in the city the homeless count is fairly low compared to where we've been and we only get asked a couple of times for cash.
We go for a night at a local cinema which is ultra cheap and watch two films back to back. It has to be the loudest cinema I've ever been in, people are constantly talking and making comments about the films or eating the loudest possible food available to mankind. There's even a guy fast asleep and snoring loudly! The audience breakout into applause after the first cheesefest movie ends. Dire. It's the first time I've ever been in a cinema when people have applauded. 'Into the wild' is the other film and is far better, it doesn't get any applause at the end though!
On the edge of town is a stony shoreline with a clear blue ocean calmly lapping up against it. The sun is out and although it's cold it's decent break from city life. It doesn't feel like a city when you're strolling along an undeveloped coastline looking out towards the Olympic mountains of America. There's a decent park nearby too and further along the coast is a British looking graveyard full of the past residents of Victoria, mainly from Scotland and England.
Jen takes us to a bar in town, Big Bad Johns. It's a small place covered in old bank notes, number plates, the odd fake spider and bras. Once you start these things it seems they just get out of control. Whilst in mid-conversational flow the barmaid lowers a rubber chicken down onto my lap from fishing wire at the bar. It frightens the bejesus out of me to much humour to the rest of the bar.
I like Victoria. It's a nice looking place that's got the trappings of a city without the overcrowding. It's waterfront is a good looking place to stroll around and it doesn't take long to be on the beach and away from the hustle and bustle.
Vancouver Island itself is a cracking place. Not all the towns have much to offer but the natural beauty is worth the visit alone. It's mountains, lakes, forests and coastline are stunning. Its capital is a worthy one and it's far from crowded. A decent place to be and probably a decent place to live.
But back to the US we go and a ferry awaits to take us across the water.

Sleeping in Seattle

IBM, Microsoft, Frasier, Space Needle, Grunge music, Jimi Hendrix, Boeing and Starbucks. Yep, all of these come from Seattle. It's also famous for rain, the city averages about 58 clear days a year, but it's not too bad on our visit.
One of the most stand-out features of the Seattle skyline is the Space Needle. This tower was built for the 1962 World's Fair. For it's age it still looks modern but it's not as tall as it first appears or how it's potrayed on all the postcards.. For one it's a bit of distance from the city's cluster of downtown skyscrapers which gives you a different perspective. Most photographs show the Space Needle towering over the buildings in the city but once you see it you soon realise that it's all a bit of camera trickery. We go up the Columbia tower, considerably cheaper and taller than the Space Needle, for a view over the city and clearly it looks significantly down onto the Space Needle. It also shows the city's landscape for what it really is. A city that's not to dissimilar to Vancouver, it's surrounded by plenty of deep blue water and the distant Olympic Mountains which look spectacular with a slight similarity to Mount Fuji in Japan. It's a shame that life on the street tells a different story.
The good looking Pioneer Square has decent sculptures and plant covered buildings but no people walking around it or sitting enjoying their lunch here as the homeless have taken it for their home already.
There's plenty of bars here and obviously coffee shops, still Vancouver beats it for Starbucks locations, but there's little else. It's a bit dull really.
The 'famous' Pikes Place public market at the dock sells fish as well as plenty of tatty shops selling some rubbish and some decent products from books to art to t-shirts and jewellery. The moved original Starbucks coffee house is here that started the global chain off.
Tramps all over the place ask us for money and it begins to wear thin very quickly. I can't see how a nation that's supposed to be so powerful has such a huge problem that it doesn't seem to be doing anything about. I also hear the first bout of blatant racism. A group of well fed, well groomed and well dressed black guys mouthing off loudly in the street about how one of them wants to kill all the white people of America. Acting the big hard men they weren't they strolled along the street in their expensive 'bling' clothes abusing the world around them. For all their anger they didn't seem to be doing too bad out of the situation. In fact a lot of people complain on streets, usually homeless when I don't give them money, but really they're living a decent life in comparison to what we've seen in places like Bolivia or China. It's time to leave. As far as cities that are worth visiting Manchester absolutely hammers Seattle in every way except it's skyline and that alone can not make a city. It's a shame because the buildings look decent and there are plenty of places to spend your cash on food and booze and it could be a decent place to walk around if it weren't for the homeless. There's just not much substance, other than the stuff the tramps are inserting into their bodies.
We need to buy a car, desperately. We hire a car for a couple of days to drive around the area and see what we can find. We're given a huge Dodge Charger to drive around in and visit a few dealerships. One road in Everett, north of Seattle, is full of car sales places for miles. And after a couple of days of looking and negotiating, getting insurance and so forth, we have a car. A Subaru Impreza. It's almost time for the real road trip across this continent to begin. We have to return in a week or so for more paperwork and then we are free to travel the country as we please, weather permitting. Returning the hire car was a bit worrying at first as Laura lost me on the freeway, oh to be lost in Seattle. We meet up at the rental place and all is well. We have a few days before we have to return for the paperwork so we may as well head north to Canada and Vancouver Island, it's not that far from the border here. Before moving on we take a close look at the Space Needle and the wacky looking building next to it. It's the music and science experience thingy and looks really modern and space-age. Seattle tried to become a forward thinking hi-tech place and in a way it worked, although the skytrain system seemed a bit rubbish.
Before we leave Seattle we're given a reminder of the last couple of days. A young guy wearing brand new clothes, including an expensive skateboarding hoodie, asks us for change. He is better dressed than us. I just stare at him in disbelief. This could get on my wick.
At least it did produce one good thing, decent music. Besides, they had nothing else to do.

California dreaming

Of the 3 states that line the west coast of America California is the biggest. It was once part of Mexico, much like other parts of the US, until the Spanish American war. Which is why there are soo many place names that are Spanish. Los Angeles, 'The Angels', Santa Rosa, 'Saint Rose'. Typically the names are mainly catholic but they sound good either way.
California is not just a hot beach and cool city state. It's a diverse as they come, deserts, snowy mountains and blue lakes share the state with the long beaches and rolling hills. It's also home to an incredibly precarious position of the San Andreas fault which is where two tectonic plates meet and can cause devastating earthquakes.
It's on that coast we roll back up toward San Francisco with Si in toe. We stop at similar places along the way, Santa Barbera for a pier walk, further up to the Seal Colony and through Carmel(although the rain is pouring this time round). We pass some rugged coastline along the sea hugging road for miles and miles.
After a couple of days we arrive by night back amongst the hills of San Francisco.
The streets look as good as ever as we drive behind an old style tram.
We eat curry, classic, before heading to the beatnik bar of Vesuvio for drinks amongst the American 60's posters and stained glass windows. A guy has lost his umbrella, it cost him $130! A drunk girl falls about the bar banging into people before moving behind the bar to start her shift. Two guys argue over Jimi Hendrix. Colourful life rumbles on outside the neon strip joints and bars. I love it.
A tramp asks, 'Do you have any change for a guy to get drunk? I promise I won't spend it on food or accommodation.'
But alas one night is all we have in this great city. The rental car has to be back in Seattle in two days, we have some driving to do.
Si stays on for a few days before leaving for home. The last few days had been good and strange in a way. We drop Si off at a hostel, say our goodbyes and head across the Golden Gate Bridge heading north. The bridge is undeniably beautiful and certainly lives upto the hype. through a tunnel and into the fog of Marin County. Lovely foresty goodness.
We drive into and through the Redwood National park surrounded by humongous trees as wide as the car. An intense driving bonanza continues the next day as we drive from northern California through Oregon state and most of Washington to just outside Seattle at Seatac. After hours of driving and 3000 miles of the last 2 weeks under our belts we begin to wonder how we're going to explain the mileage to the rental company.
Our limit was Oregon and Washington states so to do the kind of mileage we have we should have seen loads of both states. We hadn't seen a jot. We were planning on making stuff up about the places we'd been in Oregon to explain more than doubling the car's mileage. I'm pondering this as we approach our motel for the night. At the lights we feel a bump and jolt forward. I didn't know what had happened. I nearly just drove off thinking it was the car but it soon dawned on me that we'd been hit by the car from behind. Oh great. Any damage to the car and we have to pay the first $400! This would blow our budget through the roof. After all this driving and the night before we have to return the car some tool drives into the back of us at traffic lights where everyone had been stationary for minutes. We get out and surprise surprise the guy has no insurance. Brilliant. The damage is minimal, luckily only a couple of scratches. But even so, if the rental people spot it we're in for a big payout. We take numbers and the guy says he'll pay for the damage if necessary, unlikely I thought.
Added to the high mileage the new scratches were an extra worry. Do we face up to it and confess all that went on? Do we call the police reporting the guy without insurance thus also admitting all that went on? Nah. We turn up next day playing it cool. The rental guy got in the car to note the mileage. He wrote the trip mileage down thinking it was the overall mileage and didn't even look at the rest of the car. We were home and dry! We almost ran away, a great start to the day. Hopefully the next couple of days in Seattle run as smoothly!

Bienvenidos a Los Angeles

Some places you arrive you get to see an overall view that gives you some idea of what you'll be dealing with over the next few days. Not LA. It's freeways hide the city well and it's endless blocks look identical. But one thing is for sure, LA is huge. Like most cities it's a collection of towns of which we really see Hollywood, Beverly Hills, Santa Monica and Venice Beach. Inglewood is to be avoided unless you fancy becoming part of a 90's homie gangster movie for real.
I've planned to meet up with fellow Leyland boy Si who is also on a round the world trip. We arrive at Venice Beach under grey skies and the look of rain. Venice Beach seems close enough on the map to West Hollywood, where we arranged to meet, so we head off in that general direction. It's a good 10 to 15 miles and takes some time stopping at traffic lights on every block.
We walk into the hostel and Si is right there. It's odd to see someone you know after 7 months of travelling. We've been places that couldn't be more different from home and now to be confronted with someone from home just seems odd. And we're in Los Angeles. One of the most famous cities in the world.


No room at the Inn for us but we check into the nearby sister hostel and head off out into the pouring rain, and boy does it pour.
We drive around getting lost constantly on the similar looking streets until we find Graumanns Theatre. This Chinese theatre is the cinema in which many a red carpet affair for the biggest film premiers in Hollywood and the world. Along the street on either side and in front of the theatre itself are stars and hand prints of the most famous actors of all time. Normally outside the theatre it's packed with tourists photographing the hand prints but today the rain is lashing down so hard that no-one is here except us.
After an all American milkshake in a diner we go inside the theatre itself to watch a film. It was the same price as watching a film in Preston as it happens. Inside is the grandest decoration I've ever seen for a cinema. It's all reds and golds and Chinese to the core and again it's all to ourselves. It's a good 15 minutes before anybody else arrives so we get a good nosey around the great main room and flash toilets.
The film was surprisingly good, 'I am Legend', but halfway through at a key moment the screen went black and the sound cut out. At least the sound and the tilt back chairs were good! After a minute or so people started to get restless and some guys started loudly complaining. One guy even started chanting, 'U.S.A!', but then must've realised that he was cheering his countries failings. After about 10 minutes the film restarted and all was well again. Of all the places for this to happen!
The next day the sun came out and we got our first glimpse of the Hollywood sign, originally put up on the hill for a movie. We drive the distinctly different streets of Beverly Hills. I say different because around West Hollywood every block of gritty buildings looks like the next. Beverly Hills has wide palm edged streets and glamorous houses where real money lives. The palm trees tall, thin and curve slightly overhead, line the length of the avenues.


Nearby Rodeo Drive is equally flash. Even the street lights are chandeliers! Every top fashion house is represented here and Ferraris and Roll Royce drive up and down. We walk past Ruud Gullit, ex-Dutch international footballer and manger of Chelsea and Newcastle. 'Alright Ruud, how's it going?', says Si. Ruud nods back but clearly doesn't want to be recognised this far from Europe.
It's all another world from the grime of the rest of the streets. We wanted to drive up to the Hollywood sign and look down over the sprawling metropolis but it was almost impossible. Instead we end up at a disused reservoir below the sign that can't be drained as it would affect house prices overlooking it.
At the hostel that night free beer was on offer for an hour so we get lubricated for the night ahead, even winning a game of pool against an American and a Norwegian. A free bus onto Santa Monica Boulevard steers us into the monsoon-like night. First stop was a bar packed out with all types. Everyone has to show their I.D upon entry and then again at the bar when you buy a drink. Even crazier is if you buy 3 beers each person in receipt of the beer has to hand over their I.D. Madness. More insane is the price, 1 beer = 5 quid! Get bent LA!
We try and dodge the rain whilst running down the street to one of the most famous rock venues ever, the Whiskey-a-go-go. This place has and still has some of the best rock acts ever to grace the stage. The doors were the only band in it's history to play 5 nights in a row here. Inside photos from times gone by and famous LA bands like Guns n Roses strutting their stuff on stage here. Thing is the place is tiny. Smaller than most in Preston and less busy. A heavy metal band were on soon to be followed by a punk Mexican band, both dire. Mexicans and an aged rockabilly jump around whilst pushing each other. This was awful. The small upstairs was already closed and then I spot another first in any club of my attendance. A guy is sweeping up on the dancefloor whilst the band are still playing and people are jumping around. Odd. As soon as the band finish the bouncers are prodding people out of the door. Crud. What a let down.
Surely nightlife in LA couldn't be worse than Preston? But it seemed so. I begin to fear that the hype machine that is the USA is just that.


Venice Beach is gritty also. It almost has a Blackpool type of grimness about it's tacky shops but America adds it's crazy tramps and nutters into the mix to make it more interesting. Quite why a muscle bound guy is standing in the cold in only a tiny pair of trunks on playing with a metal ball I don't know. I really don't need to see this, especially when he drops the ball and has to bend over to pick it up!


Muscle Beach is a small workout area next to the beach itself and is where Arnie once pumped iron with the best of them. It seems weird that he now runs the whole state of California.
There's a few free-to-use public amenities such as tennis, basketball and racketball courts as well as an outdoor gymnasium of sorts. Not bad. The beach itself looks ok and I'm sure on a good day it would be crammed.
It's a bit fried out for me though. Tramps wander about, some giving performances of sorts for cash. The odd mural, the Jim Morrison one especially, brightens the place up and you can imagine that back in the 60's this could've been the place to be. Now though, I could think of a hundred places I'd rather be.
We take a last look at Paramount Studios, wandering through the graveyard only Johnny Ramone's excellent statue stands out.


After a couple of days I was ready to leave and head back to a proper city, San Francisco. For me LA is just one mass of nothing. There's things to see which I can't deny but to come to LA solely for a holiday must be soul destroying.
There's no centre to the place and it seems the majority of the districts are just dull buildings and liquor stores with groups of Mexicans hanging around outside.
There's no style or class, not much discernible thing of interest or reason to stay longer than 3 days. Why anyone would want to live here I've no idea. But still I can't completely dislike the place. I'm not even quite sure why either. Would I recommend a visit? Err, I dunno. Would I go back? Possibly, if I really had to.

From San Fran to LA

A few stretches of good looking beaches and surf line the coast beneath San Francisco as we drive along the Pacific Coast Highway towards Los Angeles. It takes a few days to drive to LA as there are some decent towns to stop at on the way.
We don't get very far before stopping at Santa Cruz.
This place is fairly small and has really only one short main street but the Spanish colonial style buildings all look neat and tidy and the place has a good atmosphere about it. It's definitely a surf town due to the amount of surf shops but there's also a theme park on the beach front with old style wooden roller coasters and a bit of a family feel. For some reason I'm constantly getting lost in this town, one way systems and 'no right turns' plague me. We stop overnight across from a skatepark that has a full concrete tube in it. Looks pretty scary, no wonder no-one is attempting it.
Monterey is further down the road. I know of Monterey for two reason, the festival of speed and the music festival. It was at the Monterey Music festival in the 60's where Jimi Hendrix set his guitar on fire on stage. The town itself was not bad and again in a similar style to Santa Cruz except there are less people walking the main streets. We soon realise everybody's at the dock and the pier therein. It's an old style wooded pier with shacks on both sides selling various fish products for enormous American tourists to scoff. Clam chowder in a bread bowl is the most popular. It's like a think fish soup, I try a sample, no thanks.
A short drive down the coast lands you in Carmel. This is a small affluent town that is based around tourists but not over the top. It's a great looking place and has a long curving beach with lush blue water crashing in and an excellent narrow road that winds along the coast beside hobbit looking houses.
Next up is the 35 miles of coast which is known as Big Sur. A good bit of coast but not as impressive as the New Zealand coast for instance.
A large seal colony occupies a couple of beaches where tourists gather to watch over them. They just lie there in there droves, burping loudly, sleeping, fighting and attempting to hump. Sounds familiar.
We check out some wild surf at Morro Bay where the waves look evil but the shoreline doesn't. Further along the road we spot a load of dolphins swimming amongst the waves.
Santa Barbara was the last stop before LA. It's yet another good looking town and has an air of Mexico in it's buildings and main street. The waterfront also looks typical California with the long pier and rolling Californian hills in the background.
It's amazing how many places I've heard of in America, I thought Malibu was a town of some sort but it's just a long stretch of beach with houses on stilts half on the road half on the sand.
Los Angeles was ahead. Another place I'd heard lots about, not all good. In fact mainly pretty dire.