4 days in Boston

   In the midst of the handsome buildings and historical sights of the liberty walking tour we found it.  That surprising gem that without knowing it we had spent 7 months searching for.  Every bus ride that erased a mealtime.  Every surprise chicken's foot in the vegetable soup.  Every run of seven straight meals of rice, chicken and chips.  Kizzy's refrain, "what I really want is Wagamama".

   To be sure there were also nice parks, the understated grandeur of Harvard, a fantastic hostel and a surprising wealth of very good street entertainers.  Nevertheless it was the taste of convenience cooking from home that left Kizzy struggling through nostalgia to choose just one main course from the menu.

     Before finding our culinary postcard, we had spent 16 hours on the bus from Toronto to Buffalo to New York to Boston.  After many many hours on buses the prospect of another 16, and our final overnight bus was nothing to concern us.  Americans we had spoken to previously had warned us against Greyhound, "if you actually have to get where you want to go".  When we arrived at the Toronto bus terminal we found out why.  Greyhound have patented their very own "what the hell?!?" double take for the use of passengers arriving 20 minutes before departure to find a line of 60 people already waiting for a 50-seat bus.  "But I'm going to New York at 8pm.  Where's that line?"  This is it, and you may be mistaken.  Thankfully, we arrived 3 minutes and 5 people before cut-off point.

Northern exposure

   After 6 months and 20 days, travelling by truck, taxi, boat, train, car and lots and lots of busses we drove into Vancouver, the city on the Straight of Georgia, the completion of our journey north and the beginning of our time in Canada.  At the border they proudly declared that we were entering "the best place in the world". 

   To be fair we didn't see the rest of British Columbia, which I gather is spectacular.  I get the impression that Vancouver is a city to live in rather than one to visit.  It was pleasant, with pretty parks and a waterfront and historic buildings.  The only exception was the part of town where we were staying.  As we were informed on check in: "you go here and it is downtown, here is Chinatown, head that way to the bars and restaurants of Gastown, and around that corner is drugs.  Don't go there."

   We took an overnight flight to Toronto.  The blessing of an overnight flight is the saving on accommodation costs but when you cross three time zones as we did, it turns out that you board at 11pm, land at 7am and maybe get 2 hours of sleep.  Thankfully we were graced with beautiful weather in Toronto (that day and all the others too) so while waiting for check in at our hostel we took a nap in the local park; the camping gear came in handy once again!

   In Toronto we were treated to three days of fun with our friend Clare.  We toured Chinatown, Kensington Market and the beach on Lake Ontario.  In the evenings we enjoyed the spectacular dinner view from the revolving restaurant in the CN Tower and the brillian concept cafe: Snakes and Lattes, where the drinks kept coming through rounds of Cluedo and Jenga.

   Before leaving Canada we made the trip to Niagara Falls, taking in the natural spleandour and making friends with a group of Chinese tourists.  Apparently we were the only English speakers who could make sense of an itinerary that included Hong Kong, Vancovay, Alcargee, Manreta and Nu Yar.  We now have a place to stay should we ever visit Sechuan province.

Camping in the North West

   We left Vegas and its promise of a wonderful timeshare lifestyle and headed through Death Valley to Yosemite National Park.  No doubt this was my preview of the afterlife: a narrow fertile valley with steep granite walls rising spectacularly against the blue sky.  Indeed I don’t think you would have convinced my 16 year-old self to ever leave the place via any means that did not require rockclimbing shoes and a chalk bag. 

   This was also the beginning of our camping adventures.  As by far the most practical, convenient and economical way to visit the park, we invested in a (very cheap) tent and a (very cheap) airbed and a (very cheap) blanket.  That first night we discovered by way of the freezing temperatures that Mammoth Lake where we camped is in fact quite high up, serving as a ski resort in the winter.  We also discovered that our $30 tent leaked in heavy rain.  

   Our second night saw progress with the addition of an extra blanket providing sufficient insulation to get about 4 hours sleep before waking up shivering.  We also confirmed our theory about the tent that as long as it didn't rain, the tent didn't leak.

   We head back to the coast the next day and arrived in San Francisco to find that even in summer it is pretty chilly and very foggy.  We were also very fortunate that with no planning or forethought we met up with my good friends Graeme and Viv from Melbourne, having a lovely dinner whereby Graeme and I ranted about politics and Viv apologised to Kizzy that "they always get like this". 

   The coastline of California and Oregon was furnished with one of the most spectacular and enjoyable stretches of road I have ever been privileged to drive.  We drove throug a tree!  And it led us to more friends in Seattle.  We were treated to a fantastic barbie by my old housemate Marti and her husband Dan who moved there last year.  Then we spent the next wonderful with Jenn whom we met in Peru, enjoying the amazing use of public space that is the Olympic Sculpture Park.

   With some trepidation we continued north to Bellingham just south of the Canadian border for our final two days camping and enjoying the smashing little town.  The first night showed progress, hints of civilization with three blankets this time and a fire.  We finally found perfection on our final night under canvas with the addition of a charity shop duvet and marshmallows!

   After returning the tent and the blankets to the charity shop, we drove on to Vancouver with high hopes after being greeted at the border with the bold claim, “Welcome to British Columbia: the best place in the world!”

Sun and fun in the South West

   The weather in the South West US states was glorious.  Kizzy had a new understanding of what hot weather feels like when we reached Phoenix and the temperature hit 118 degrees Farenheit - 48 degrees celcius.  Waiting for ten minutes for the bus takes on an element of danger to be undertaken only with adequate water and shelter.

   Arriving in LA was pure joy.  The preceding 6 months in Latin America were fantastic and fantastically challenging.  Suddenly we found ourselves in the gorgeous and relaxed neighbourhood of Santa Monica where we could speak the language and we were amazingly well looked after by our lovely friend Kim Stevenson.  Not only was the hospitality such a welcoming taste of home (Boags lager, Green and Black's chocolate), Kim also set out a blueprint for fantastic lifestyle.  I was so motivated I even went with her for her morning run.

   Four nights with Kim was enough to want to stay in the neighbourhood (in her living room, eating her food, sampling her restaurant recommendations) for the next four years but the itinerary drew us back to Arizona, this time in our own set of wheels.  Driving on the right hand side and other traffic quirks (turn right on red, really?) were soon overcome and we found our way through the desert to the Grand Canyon, which is every bit as awe-inspiring as we had been led to believe.

   Our departure from Flagstaff was marked by Kizzy's birthday.  We started with cake and cards - she was truly delighted by all the messages from home.  Plans for an easy jaunt up to Vegas and a luxury hotel hit the rocks when we discovered that a) the hotel reservation had been cancelled and b) I had lost my wallet (how?!?) but all worked out in the end and we stayed in a very big and flashy edifice, styled after the Egyptian pyramids but augmented by an exterior of mirrored glass and a fantastic swimming pool.

   Vegas was the ultimate culture shock.  I have never been anywhere quite so unreal.  Kizzy loved it, "but only for a little bit, too much of this will get creepy".  The fabricated environments were amazing.  The floors of really rather frantic people were disconcerting.  The free meal and US$50 we got for enduring a two hour timeshare sales pitch was actually quite welcome, especially as they fed us throughout the whole affair.

The terrifying wilds of northern Mexico

   We were terrified, or at least somewhat apprehensive about bussing through the northern reaches of Mexico.  Every news item (and most of the FCO reports) about the border with USA referred to drug traffic and associated violence.  Lurid details of kidnappings, banditry and beheadings stood were writ large in our consciousness.  Every American we met south of Mexico City had only two words of advice about the north of the country: don't go.  Of course, none of these people had actually been to the north of Mexico and the few who we had met in earlier in our travels who had passed through had a fairly casual recollection of the risks.

   We decided to brave it, and after much deliberation chose a route to the States that took us exclusively in first class buses (not as flash as it sounds) on toll roads the whole way.  We reasoned that bandits and drug cartels had a bottom line; one that was at odds with well patrolled pay as you go thoroughfares.

   Our first stop was to be the highly rated colonial beauty, the seaside resort of Mazatlan.  Our enthusiasm sunk like a stone as our bus ploughed through flood waters two feet deep on the way into the bus station.  We promptly booked on the next bus heading north, completing 22 hours of bus travel to reach Los Mochis that evening.

   Los Mochis had very little going for it in terms of tourist attraction ... except for incredibly friendly people, exemplified by our impromptu tour guide, Chapitha.  On the pretext of practising her English, she offered to take us on a tour of the town, which expanded to include visiting her grandmother, meeting her parents and brother and sister and aunts and cousins.  As if that welcome was not enough, the whole family took us out for the afternoon and evening to see the sunset at the local seaside, 40km down the road.  We had a truly lovely time with them and felt so so welcome.  We have been so very lucky with in the wonderful people we've met these past 6 months.

   Our next stop, Hermosillo, was had very little to hold our attention, not that we gave it much of a chance.  By this stage our eyes were fixed firmly on the US border.  So firmly in fact that when we got to our crossing point at Nogales we made our first mess of a border crossing and stamped into the US before stamping out of Mexico.  Oops.

We rectified it in the end but only after some interesting discussion with US border officials, trying to convince them of the importance of going back and complying with the migration requirements of the Mexican authorities.  I am not sure they were convinced.  One gentleman seemed to find the very concept of laws beyond the US border something of an anathema.

Mexico City

   Oh my goodness.  What an amazing place.  If a man is tired of London, he should come to Mexico City.

   We arrived shortly before sunset and made our way into town with some trepidation.  The thought of navigating such a monster of a conurbation with 21 million people was rather intimidating, but it need not have been.  What we discovered was our new favourite city.

   We were so excited by the parks, public art and fabulous architecture that we forgot we were meant to be serious travellers and spent the next day playing tourists to the fullest extent of our budget.  We took the open-topped sightseeing bus around town, ate candy floss at a funfair, rode a miniature train around the main park, and took a pedalo for a cruise on the ornamental lake.  We did everything and it was fantastic.

   The following day we went to some of the more serious sights: the cathedral, the Templo Mayor and the government palace.  All of which were wonderful, especially the government palace which was both free and blessed with fabulous Diego Rivera frescos on the first floor.  We also met the friendliest security police to date, who foud my attempts to take a photo with the timer so amusing (lots of running and manic smiling) as to unearth all their best sociable and helpful qualities.

   However, the most wonderful thing about Mexico City, by far, was the tunnel of science.  It was so good we went through it three times.  If I lived in the city it would no doubt lengthen my commute each and every time I went to work.  At the La Rasa metro station there is a longish interchange between two train lines.  The walk would ordinarily take 6 minutes.  Rather than long and winding tunnels with unhealthy lighting (a la Bank to Monument in London) they have a "Tunnel of Science" filled with light box displays of information, imparting all sorts of knowledge: geograpical regions and features, geology, flora and fauna, culture and anthropology, biology, and best of all - a dark tunnel illuminated with a map of the stars all over the walls and ceiling.  Kizzy had to go back and fetch me out on each of our visits. 

Mexican Splendour

   After six weeks in Central America, Southern Mexico was a revelation.  San Cristobal in Chiapas was beautiful, with all the architectural drama and charm that had been largely absent since we had left Columbia.  The food was wonderful and the people friendly and inviting, all with a glow of enforced sobriety: the country was dry for two days to mark the federal elections.  Nevertheless, with the Euro 2012 final on election day there were a lot of interesting variations on orange and mango juices flowing in the restaurants.

   Good food experiences continued in Oaxaca, with Kizzy trying the local mezcal and then finding the world's biggest tortilla on display in the local government palace.  She needed something to pick her up after we had braved the overnight bus to get there.  Even in the most luxurious class she couldn't sleep and fretted the whole time that we would be hijacked by bandits.  We weren't.  We had a lovely time and here are some of the photos.