Sahara They Come

The minibus arrived early in the morning to pick us up and we joined a nice group of people from different parts of the world. The journey first took us over the snowcapped peaks of the High Atlas Mountains which surround Marrakech, offering some beautiful vistas of the valley below. Our first real stop was at the stunning oasis and hidden village of Ait Benhaddou. The clay buildings melt in perfectly with their surroundings and if you didn’t know it was there you could easily miss it.

The tiny village has been in decline for a long time but got an unexpected boost from the movie industry with productions like Lawrence of Arabia, Gladiator and lately Game Of Thrones choosing this location as their backdrop. After the pitstop we moved through the town of Ouarzazate, the valley of the roses (which weren’t in bloom) and stopped just outside Dadès Gorge where we slept in a hotel. The following morning we visited the valley, some more villages before arriving in the desert town of Merzouga.

Here we all hopped onto our camels and travelled for an hour and a half to our Berber tentcamp in the middle of the Sahara. It was pretty basic, but our young guides managed to cook up a great Moroccan tajine which we could feast on before gazing at the incredible amount of stars next to our warm campfire. The weather for the whole trip was beautiful with clear skies, sunshine and temperatures around 23 C, however as soon as the sun sets the temperature drops drastically and at night we were sleeping with several blankets as it dropped below freezing. When we awoke we saw the sunrise and got back on our trusty ships of the desert, taking us at a very tranquil pace across the giant dunes back to Merzouga for some breakfast where I left the group and got a shared minibus for 9 hours to the ancient city of Fez.

Rock The Kasbah

My first impression of Marrakech was actually quite surprising. I had expected a lot more chaos, but I left the airport without much hassle at all from taxi drivers, the traffic was calm, the streets were clean, I was almost disappointed. Once my shared taxi dropped me off in the city center, the weather was quite nice and the hostel I had booked should only be a 10-15 minute walk away, so I started walking. It quickly became obvious that the ancient walled Medina of Marrakech is quite literally a labyrinth, this combined with the fact that I am too stubborn to accept help (figuring that help here is never free) and not having access to the internet, meant that my leisurely stroll turned into a one hour ordeal carrying all my luggage, but in the end I found my hostel and I felt accomplished and that my trip had finally begun.

I spent a few days in the city admiring the ornate architecture of mosques, palaces and mansions with their delicately carved wooden doors and beautiful gardens and courtyards, but most of the time I was just wandering around aimlessly, eating street food and getting lost in the narrow alleyway systems of the enormous souk. The market may cater heavily to tourists with it’s carpets, trinkets and ornaments but it is still a very lively and functioning bazaar which seems to attract very many locals for their everyday shopping as well.

The enormous main square, Djemaa el Fna, is more like the chaos I was expecting on arrival, here snake charmers and acrobats fight over the same space as fortunetellers, storytellers and musicians, everyone is trying to get your attention, trying to drag you towards their act and before you know it a friendly handshake has turned into you having a monkey sat on your head. After three days, I felt I had had enough and together with Daniel, a Brazilian guy I met at the hostel, I decided to head towards the desert.

Return Of The Blog

So unfortunately this blog had an abrupt ending last time around, mainly because I became too lazy to write anymore. However since then I did make it out of Guatemala, travelled through Central and South America, returning to Fortaleza, the Brazilian city where I had my incident a few years prior and completed my trip down to the southern tip of Argentina. After that I spent a couple of months in the Caribbean before finally making my way back to Sweden about 18 months after leaving home. I then spent half a year working and saving money before deciding to leave again. This time it was first back to South East Asia, hopping between different countries for five months before moving to Australia where I lived and worked for a bit more than a year making a pit stop in New Zealand and then visiting South East Asia again on my way home, returning to Stockholm again in the summer.

This very summarised and brief recap of the past 4 years brings us up to date, as I have now decided it is once more time to leave the cold and head for warmer climates. Due to popular demand (coming mainly from my mother and one of my former English teachers) I have decided to give this blog another chance as I embark on this new adventure. This trip may prove to be my most difficult yet and I’m not quite sure what to expect as I try to tackle the western parts of the African continent. I really haven’t done much research but it is a journey I’ve wanted to do for a long time. Unlike other trips I’ve done, this trip is different as I don’t really have a final goal, it probably won’t be as long as my two previous ones, and I don’t know where it will end, all depending on how long I can make my money last and what happens along the way. What I do know is that my first destination will be Marrakech, as I write this I’m sitting at my gate waiting for the direct flight which will hopefully bring me out of the snow.

Guatever

Flores turned out to be a very picturesque town with colonial architecture, winding alleyways and colourful houses located on a small island in the middle of a lake. We happened to arrive during a local festival celebrating some Saint, but it seemed to be more of an excuse to blow up fireworks for a fortnight rather than pay respect to religious deities. After sunset every night the explosions would begin, most of the time sound was more important than appearance and for the finale a kid would strap a wooden frame on top of himself, and proceed to run around like a bull with fireworks and crackers firing off him straight into the crowd of panicked onlookers. We stayed in town for a few days, swimming in the lake and enjoying the crazy festival but the main reason people come here is because of it's proximity to Tikal. We got up before sunset one morning and stayed the entire day until sunset walking around the ancient Mayan temple city. I've seen a few temples by now, but I think this is my favourite one so far, mainly due to the fact that we were pretty much alone the entire time, surrounded by dense jungle with birds and monkeys all around us.

After this my Dutch travel companions and I left Flores and headed for Semuc Champey now joined by a New Zealander called Georgia. We got to our extremely relaxed hostel Utopia by the side of a river in the middle of nowhere after a long trip by minibus and pickup truck. We chilled her for a couple of days, went on a pretty daunting trip swimming and climbing in the nearby caves by candlelight and then hiked up to the beautiful natural pools and waterfalls. Then one morning I woke up early and felt like going solo again, so I left the girls a dramaqueen note and got on a series of different road vehicles finally arriving in Antigua. Antigua was yet another very picturesque, colourful and colonial town. It was once the capital of Guatemala but people moved when the city was destroyed in an earthquake, who would have known living on a faultline surrounded by volcanoes could be dangerous?

I wandered around the cobblestoned streets and markets during the days and crawled around the pubs by night. The girls caught up with me after a day and we all went on a very long daytrip to an active volcano which had erupted just a few days earlier, it took a lot longer than expected and the driving felt slightly dangerous at the best of times but once we could see the river of lava flowing down the side of the mountain it was all worth it. My next stop was the small town of San Pedro by the side of Lake Atitlan and once again the Dutch girls caught up with me. I planned on staying a couple of days, but quickly realised how easy it was to get stuck here. Despite the multitude of activities available I did absolutely nothing during the days, just lounging by the hostel pool, swimming in the lake and drinking way to much cheap alcohol.

After celebrating Australia Day hard I decided it was time to get out of this evil circle and took a day off drinking, this proved to be a bad idea as I quickly got very ill with a high fever, a cold and a terrible cough. I took this opportunity to get out of the country which had given me a lot of amazing memories and caught a minibus down to El Salvador.

UnBelizeable

I arrived in Belize City early in the morning, and decided I wanted to head straight out to the the island of Caye Caulker. Unfortunately I brought the same bad weather with me from Mexico which wasn't great considering the islands are famed for having the largest barrier-reefs in the northern hemisphere and optimal snorkelling conditions. However if the weather was the same as in Mexico everything else couldn't be more different. The tiny country lodged in the middle of Central America is the only one not to speak Spanish, with English being the official language in Belize, although sometimes the broad Caribbean accents could be harder for me to comprehend than Spanish.

Even if the weather was pretty lousy for most of my stay in Cage Caulker, the people were friendly and I walked around the relaxed "Go Slow" island a few times, between colourful wooden houses, eating delicious lobster dishes and occasionally washed it down with some local rum or beer. Towards the end of my stay here even the weather turned for the better and I could actually enjoy the fantastic snorkelling, seeing all kinds of different sealife including some pretty intimidating sharks and massive stingrays. After almost a week I decided it was time to head out of Belize and caught the ferry back to Belize City with Nicky, Sophie and Eva, three Dutch girls I met at the hostel. We then caught a very cramped minibus across the Guatemalan border and eventually to the small lakeside town of Flores.

Yuca-Tan...

We decided that we wanted to make it up to the beaches in Yucatan for New Years and therefor caught a monster of a busride, over the mountains and through the rainforests for 40 hours. At one point we had to stop and wait for more buses, as the Mexican drug cartels had been holding up the buses, and apparantly travelling in convoy is safer, allthough I think a bunch of machinegun gangsters would just rub their hands at the thought of hitting the jackpot and robbing three buses at once. Finally we got to Playa del Carmen unharmed, managed to find a hostel which wasn't fully booked, then decided to make the most of the day and go snorkelling with turtles at a nearby beach.

That night my luck kind of turned for the worse, so far I haven't really had any troubles, but after a big night out I got a taxi back to the hostel to get more money and when I got back in to head back to the club, he drove me for a while, and then locked the doors and told me to hand over all my money. I didn't want to get into an argument in his cab, so handed over the money then he unlocked the doors and pushed me out. I was so annoyed and looked for a stone to throw at his car as he drove off, but couldn't find one in time, so then I stood in the middle of the road with two rocks, holding up every taxi, hoping the same driver would come back and I could at least get some revenge by smashing a window and running. Police must have got wind of this crazy gringo stopping traffic with stones in his hands as soon I heard the sirens, dumped my rocks and saw a group of policemen running towards me. They tackled me to the ground, and started handcuffing me, but when I told them my story and that I wasn't American, they became a lot nicer, asked me where I was staying and gave me a lift back.

The following day we got a short minibus trip up to Cancun and then disaster struck, as one of the straps on my backpack snapped. This is probably one of the worst things that could happen to me at the moment, as my backpack is carrying pretty much everything I own. I set off on a long mission to find anybody who could fix it, and after a few days search I found a girl in a shoeshop who said she'd give it a shot. Two hours of her hard work and my attempts at a broken spanish conversation later, she had done it, I tried to pay but she refused to take my money, so naturally I proposed and told her I would be back in a few years to marry her (If her reparations hold up...) A few hours away from Cancun is the former Mayan town of Chichen Itza, having been named one of the "Seven Modern Wonders of the World" it was overcrowded with tourists but nonetheless a very impressive sight with ancient pyramids and ruins, as we took a bit of time out to see some culture. Apart from that culture shock, Cancun was a few very hectic days, of beaching and large consumptions of alcohol, culminating with a huge New Years Eve party where a few hours after midnight, some random Scotsman came out of nowhere and punched me straight in the eye. This came completly out of the blue and wasn't exactly the start to the New Year I had been hoping for but it wasn't too bad and just left me with a sweet black eye for the coming weeks. Even the weather took a turn for the worse now and we went back to Playa Del Carmen only to find more rain. This wasn't exactly optimal beachweather so after a couple of days here, Tony and I were joined by Mexican Paolina and Kiwi Paul, a couple we'd been hanging out with for a while as we all decided to head south to Tulum. Tulum was a lot more relaxed than the American resort towns of Cancun and Playa, unfortunatly the weather was just as bad if not even worse. We decided to brave it out to the nearby ruins and got absolutly drenched in the heavy rain. We also went swimming in one of the many cenotes that the area is famous for, a cenote is a lake or waterhole which is filled from underground rivers and the water is amazingly clear and fresh. After this it was time to say farewell, not only to my newly found "Pauls" but also to Tony, my Australian travelcompanion who had been by my side ever since Cabo San Lucas more than a month ago. The three of them headed back west, as I caught a nightbus further south, across the border into a new country...

Merry Mex-Mas

We got to Mexico City and managed to navigate the metro system without too many complications, then as we were getting out of the subway-stop next to our hostel we collided with what seemed to be some sort of revolution. Riot police had locked the gates and protesters were trying to break the barricades. Tony and I weren't in a great position stuck in a tight tunnel with our large backpacks and immediately thought of worst case scenarios. It worked out fine in the end and we found out the demonstrations were due to a recent rise in the subway fare prices, from 3 pesos to 5 (roughly 20 US cents to 40.)

On our second night in town we found out that Mexican Football League was holding it's final at the local Azteca Stadium, so naturally we made it our mission to see that. We went with a couple of people from our hostel and managed to scalp cheap tickets outside the stadium and got in to an incredible atmosphere. The stadium holds a bit over 100, 000 people, is the only stadium to host two World Cup finals, the venue where allegedly the "Mexican Wave" was invented and the place where Maradona or God scored that infamous goal using his hand. Unfortunately the local team, Club America, lost and the lively atmosphere got kind of subdued, but all in all it was an amazing experience. We stayed in the city, which by some standards ranks as the largest in the world, for almost a week and had a great time, largely due to the fact we had an amazing guide in Gabriela, a Mexico City girl we met a few weeks prior in Cabo San Lucas. She drove us around the crazy traffic, and showed all different neighbourhoods and sights, even giving us some much needed culture at the Casa Azul, the former house of Frida Kahlo. Then we decided beaches were much needed again and took a long bustrip over the mountains down to the Pacific Ocean, and the small town of Puerto Escondido.

The town's name translates to "Hidden Port" and even if a lot of people have found it by now it really was a beautiful place. We intended on staying for a couple of days and then head up north, but due to Christmas holidays all buses were fully booked and we were "trapped." This turned out to be very fortunate as we could then have a great Australian Christmas feast, with six Aussies, seafood and alcohol galore, Secret Santas and me the token Swede. We ended up staying in this slice of paradise, fishing (didn't catch anything), swimming with turtles and just general beachbumming for a week before we all went our separate ways again and Tony and I could get a bus north towards Yucatan.
(In footwear related news I can bring you the sad message that the trusty flipflops which I have been using since my runin with the Mocambiquan law finally gave in after serving me very well. I decided to buy a new cheap pair in Puerto Escondido, which lasted me all of two days before snapping and therefor I opted to pay the expensive price for a quality pair which will hopefully accompany me for a long time to come!)

Booze, Boats and Trains

Cabo San Lucas on the southern tip of the Baja Peninsula was pretty much exactly what I expected, a beach resort town with a rowdy nightlife and loads of Americans. This is one of the main places in Mexico where Americans go to have fun, equivalent of what Europeans have in say Mallorca or the Greek Islands. It does get crowded but for a reason, the beaches are gorgeous and with American standards things are cheap. I found a hostel and met some fellow travellers, but may have indulged slightly too much into the nightlife and not spent as much time on the beach as I would have hoped. After a few days of this, Tony, an Australian guy and I decided to move on to the nearby San Jose Del Cabo, which had more of a relaxed vibe, however the weather wasn't optimal for beachlife so we soon moved on to the city of La Paz once again heading north. La Paz is a major porttown and the place to catch ferries heading across the Sea of Cortez to the Mexican mainland. I had hoped to get a ferry to Mazatlan but soon found out the next available one would not be for another month or so, La Paz was not the kind of place I wasn't to spend a month in so together with Tony I decided to get the following day's boat bound for Topolobambo. That night I'm not sure what happened, but something I ate or drank was not agreeing with me so the 9 hour crossing on slightly rough waters was pretty horrible. Once we got across we found accommodation and got a couple of hours sleep before setting off for the trainstation where we would get on the Copper Canyon Express.

Even if I was still feeling a bit under the weather and couldn't eat or drink anything, this was the most beautiful trainride I ever experienced, travelling through dense jungle and between narrow canyons with incredible views for 15 hours before reaching the final destination of Chihuaha. Chihuaha is famous as the birthplace of the tiny dog of the same name and has got a reputation for being quite a dangerous city, however we didn't see a single dog and the only danger we encountered was how cold it was. We spent the day walking around the colonial mansions and churches, schooled some Mexican homeboys in how to play pool and drink tequila, and then got a very long nightbus for 22 hours to the Unesco listed town of Guanajuato.

Guanajuato was a very picturesque small town with colourful houses, grand churches, theatres and townsquares nestled in a little valley. At one point this was the wealthiest city in Mexico due to the abundance of silver but today it's a quiet place, heaving with tourists. Underneath the city channels once dug to divert a river have been converted into an intricate system of underground tunnels trying to divert motor and pedestrian traffic off the cobblestoned streets above. We left the following day and got to the polar opposite, the massive capital Mexico City.

Baja Buses

Mulegé happened to be the name of the town my finger landed on further southeast on the Baja Peninsula, and the very friendly people at the busstation promised me it was a pretty place. The bus took me overnight through the desert, when I awoke I was amidst a jungle of cartoon-like cacti by the eastern coastline and shortly after the busdriver told me this was my stop. I looked around and thought again that my gamble had not paid off, but then I found the entrance to the town and the promises that had been made were true. It was a tiny little town or maybe a village I forget how the two are defined, but very charming nonetheless. I found a cheap hotel, and went in search of the beach, unfortunately this is where I found out my beachhunt had been in vain, because I arrived to find that it was a pebble beach and even if I have got some Brighton blood in me, this just wasn't what I was looking for. The following morning I heard about some nearby beaches but you would need a car to get there so I decided to hitch, I couldn't believe my luck as the first car to pass was a van with three French and Spanish hippies, they gladly drove me south and about 30 minutes later I found the beaches I had heard of. I thanked my drivers and walked towards the water, now this was more like it, white sand, turquoise waters, small islands just offshore in a guarded and peaceful cove. I chilled out in paradise for a few hours, only problem is that I don't carry the amenities to camp, so I went back to the road hoping to hitch a ride further south once more. This time I stood for more than an hour and not a hippievan in sight, so I decided to cut my losses and try to get back to Mulegé where I could maybe still get a bus or at least I knew there was a hotel. This proved more fruitful as a local Juan picked me up straight away and dropped me at the busstop. There was one more bus that day so I bought my ticket this time heading for Loreto a place people had told me good things about.

Loreto was a much bigger place, and I arrived late at night and walked towards where I had heard rumours of a hostel. Every now and then while travelling you come across hostelowners who are doing everything right and this was the case once I found Mike and Gus at Coyote Village, free beers, free breakfast, free bicycles, all the information you could want, the list goes on but hell they had me at free beer. I spent the next day biking around Loreto which had a nice townsquare a harbour (malecon) buzzing with pelicans and a quiet ambiance, but once again the beaches weren't up to my standards so the day after I got another long bustrip south to what I expected to be a sure card, Cabo San Lucas.

South Of The Border

It was kind of strange to be sitting on a greyhound bus again after being spoilt with private chauffeurs for so long but the three hour trip was not bad. We started walking around town in search of a hostel and before we had found one we bumped in to Simon, who had left Los Angeles the day before us and he guided us to where he was staying. San Diego really has a much more relaxed vibe than L.A. it is very walkable and if you cant walk to your destination public transport is good. During the days we walked around the bay, Balboa Park (which is the largest urban park in U.S.A) and took a bus to nearby La Jolla where sealions and very wealthy Americans share a strip of the coast. Our hostel was in the gaslamp quarters which happens to be the main bar area, so needless to say we felt at home. After four days we all went in our separate directions and I decided that my time in the United States was officially over. From San Diego you can actually catch the tram all the way to San Ysidro where the busiest border in the world lies, I did this and 40 minutes later I was in Mexico. Only problem was I hadn't realised I was in Mexico and had completely missed the border control, so I went back and got my passport stamped to avoid future problems, I guess the border is more for keeping Mexicans out of USA than vice versa.

The short walk from the border to downtown Tijuana provided me with more clichés and stereotypes than I had expected, within minutes I had been offered countless drugs, sombreros, tequilas, beers and women. I turned all offers down, found a cheap hotel to put my bag down and walked out to see what else was on offer. Turns out that was pretty much it just in much larger quantities, shopowners, stripclub promoters, salesmen and donkeys painted as zebras stood at every corner, and everybody wanted part of this newly arrived gringos wallet, and we had only just passed midday. I stuck to the main downtown drag the whole day, drinking in the crazy before calling it a night. The following morning I decided to get out and went to the busstation, I told them I wanted to go South and they asked me where. I had no idea so just pointed at a town on a map that looked of decent size and asked them how long it would take. San Quintin, where my finger had landed, was only 5 or 6 hours away, so I should get there before sunset. In actuality I arrived way after sunset and what on the map had looked like a decent size town turned out to be a very dark line of closed shops and restaurants parted by the highway. In very broken Spanish I asked the people at the terminal how far the beach was and if there were any hotels nearby, they laughed and said that at this hour it would be very difficult to get there, so I looked at the map again and pointed to a new destination, asking when the next bus there would be leaving. It was only a two hour wait (in actuality it was a four wait) so despite the ticket being expensive I decided to buy it and hope for better luck in the morning.

Californication

We arrived in San Francisco safely and the following morning said farewell to our trusty companion, the silver Chrysler which had driven us over 4000 miles. I knew San Francisco was hilly but I didn't expect the ridiculous slopes that awaited and if my legs were tired after the hiking in Yosemite, this really wasn't the right city to relax in. It really is a nice city though and it has a good vibe about it. We walked up and down the hills and visited some of the famous sights by day, like Fisherman's Wharf and the former prison island of Alcatraz which was really interesting and then sampled the excellent nightlife on offer in the evenings. Ideally I would have loved spending a few more days here but when a group of fellow hostellers were renting a car and driving down the Pacific Coast Highway it was an offer too good to refuse. Anna was going in the opposite direction so I said goodbye to my fantastic driver who I am very grateful to have met, without her I wouldn't have been able to see anywhere close to as many amazing sights, and somehow she coped with me for over a month.

My new group of travelbuddies consisted of two Germans, Maryam and Simon, and two Aussies, Leah and Grant. We set off in the morning and drove south on the famous highway number 1. The scenic route passed through quaint small towns like Carmel and all the way had the rocky coastline and sandy beaches of the Pacific Ocean by our side. After watching the sunset we decided to stop at a motel in San Luis Obispo which is allegedly the happiest place in the United States, and continued our drive the following morning. This had more of the same gorgeous scenery as the previous day and we stopped for lunch in Santa Barbara before reaching Los Angeles that night.

We stayed at a hostel just off the Hollywood Boulevard, the famous strip with all the Hollywood stars, 90 percent of the names I've never heard of and the whole area feels quite run down and tacky, not at all as glitzy as the name implies. Los Angeles really is an enormous city and very difficult to see without driving. We took advantage of having a car the first day and drove down to Venice Beach where all the crazy people, potheads and bodybuilders seem to congregate and then to the Grove in the evening. We couldn't believe our luck when we saw that none other than legendary Anchorman Ron Burgundy (played by Will Ferrell) was here to sign his new Autobiography, and didn't miss the opportunity to see him up close and personal. This was the highlight of my time in L.A. and later that night I managed to avoid getting a fine for jaywalking playing the innocent tourist card, as the police pulled me over and pushed me up against a wall. After walking around the Hollywood Hills (stopping for every redlight) Grant and I decided we had had enough and that it was time to get out of the this giant metropolis and took the greyhound to the fictional home of Ron Burgundy, San Diego.

Parks And Recreation

After leaving Austin we have been on an almost two week long roadtrip, I have been too tired to update, but here come's a summary as brief as I can make it, fasten your seatbelts! It's been a lot of driving for Anna, I don't know how many miles, but five States, three different timezones plus daylight savings made things even harder to keep track of especially seeing as Arizona doesn't observe such comformities. Our first day we drove through middle of nowhere Texas with tiny empty towns where almost every business seems to have closed down. We found a motel which hadn't been shut in one of these towns called Post and set off again next morning. When we got into New Mexico the landscape changed into a more rocky desert which looks perfect for cooking crystal meth in an RV or settling a drug deal gone bad, at least that's all that I could think of. That night we slept in Walter White's (Surely everyone has heard of Breaking Bad by now?) hometown of Albuquerque, which seems to have flourished due to being on the historic route 66 with motels, diners and fastfood joints lining the main strip now called Central Avenue. We continued getting our kicks the following morning taking some detours into painted deserts and petrified forests before entering Arizona and getting some sleep in Flagstaff. Flagstaff is also on the route but it's main claim to fame is it's proximity to one of the seven natural wonders of the world, The Grand Canyon.

I visited the Grand Canyon as a child almost 15 years ago, but I was still gobsmacked once we reached the edge of the gorge. We spent the whole day walking around the rim, staring in awe at each new angle, view and shade of red the canyon could offer. We slept in a small town consisting of one motel, a petrol station and Bedrock City: the life project of a Flintstones fan who has now passed away. His wife continues to run the campground and theme park, unfortunately we couldn't sleep here but the morning after we had breakfast and paid the five dollar entrance to see the park. It is always sad to see dreams that have gone downhill, but nowhere epitomises this sadness as much as a desolate themepark I think.

The cartoon village complete with dinosaur slides and replicas of Fred and Barney's houses which may at one time have been the dream of every child to visit was now completely empty and run down, the location in the middle of the desert made the sadness if possible even more obvious. So much time and money must have gone into building this and I hope it can stay open forever, I urge everyone visiting Grand Canyon to pay it a visit as it is a special place!
After this crushed dream we drove to an example of the exact opposite which proves you can make something out of nothing, the capital of insane dreams, Las Vegas. I wish I could tell you all what happened here, but you know the saying right?

We stayed three nights in Sin City and then drove into California through the lowest point and one of the warmest places in the U.S, Death Valley. We made our resting point at a motel in Bakersfield before heading up to Sequoia National Park the following morning. This is where the mighty Sequoia Trees grow and it was incredible to drive through the giant forests. These are the largest trees on the planet, not the highest but in volume they are massive with bark as thick as three feet, the oldest ones are over 3000 years old and the largest specimen, General Sherman is believed to gain the weight of a 60 foot tall tree every year! The park offered some great views with one of the countries highest mountains, Mount Whitney as it's backdrop. We drove out of the park in pitchblack darkness due to perhaps staying a bit longer than planned and got to a very dodgy motel in Fresno late at night. Things didn't get better as Anna was getting eaten alive by bedbugs so we had to find a new accommodation at midnight. The second motel was better and we got a couple of hours sleep before once again setting off, this time for Yosemite National Park. We had two full days here, driving around the beautiful scenery the first and then spending the second hiking some gorgeous forest trails past waterfalls with amazing vistas of the slick mountain domes and jagged peaks all around you.
Today my legs are killing me and it is also the last leg of our roadtrip as we will soon set off on the final stretch taking us to the Pacific Coast and San Francisco!

Austin Powers

Our streak of free accommodations ended once we reached Austin and checked into our hostel. Our first night was relatively quiet due to the previous nights lack of sleep and the fact that a giant storm swept in over us. When we awoke the storm had gone and also we had to check out because the hostel was fully booked, this turned out to be lucky as our second hostel (Yes an American city with more than one hostel) Drifter Jacks, had a great crowd staying there and a very chilled out atmosphere. I went out in search of "Franklin's", who allegedly have some of the best barbecue in the world, when I got to the restaurant just after midday, they had big signs out saying "Sold Out" but having walked all that way I decided to go in anyway. They still had quite a bit of meat left for me and their reputation really didn't let them down, whoever I would tell the story couldn't believe how lucky I was.

Halloween night happened to fall during our visit to the Texan capital so we had a big night out with people from the hostel, as I wrote before people here take this very seriously and even with months of planning I wouldn't have had a chance competing with them. With items I could find in my backpack I decided to go as "David Hasselhof if he had auditioned for Braveheart" (Nobody on the night got it either) and we had a great night. The next day the hostel was slightly more subdued, but we decided to go see one of Austin's top attractions, the nightly flight of the bats. From March to November as many as 1.5 million bats call the Congress Bridge their home, and at dusk they all come out at the same to hunt for food, in one night the group can consume up to 15 tons of insects!!! This benefits Austin in two ways as number one they have no problems with insects and secondly they have a tourists attraction as people flock here to see the spectacle.

Next morning we all got up early to witness and participate in a completely different American show as we were invited to a tailgating event. For those of you who don't what tailgating is, it pretty much means you get up early in the morning and drink as much alcohol you can possibly handle before the football starts. Hundreds of thousands gather in the parkinglots and other areas surrounding the stadium, barbecuing, playing games and did I mention drinking alcohol? I turned out to be a natural at beer-pong and walked/stumbled away as undefeated champion. I then left the group in search of tickets for the game and managed to get a great deal as I payed ten dollars for a ticket worth a hundred. Arriving at the stadium, I had missed the first quarter but I somehow managed to swindle my way in to the wrong section and before I knew it I was literally on the field, just feet away from the home team. At half time I got kicked out but again managed to walk straight to the best seats in the house, front row, on the halfway-line. This was a college football game, but don't be mistaken, this is the real deal and the enormous 111,000 stadium was almost at full capacity. The University of Texas team, "The Longhorns" comfortably beat The Kansas Jayhawks 35-12, so the local fans and I could all walk home happy in an ocean of orange clad people. I passed out early that night and the following morning we started driving further west in Texas.

The Big Easy Living

Upon arriving in Natchez we drove to the Mark Twain Guesthouse, but just as we were about to check in, Bob, a local resident started talking to us and before we knew it our plans had changed from sharing a small expensive room to each getting a private bedroom with a kingsize bed in Bob's beautifully restored mansion for free. Natchez is the oldest city on the Mississippi river, and was where plantation decided to build their huge antebellum homes more than two hundred years ago. We drove around looking at the beautiful architecture the next day then said farewell to Lisa and our group once again got smaller as our trio went down to a duo. The two of us then chose the detouric (not a word, I know) but very scenic road along the river to New Orleans where we got to stay at a friend of Anna's. New Orleans also boasts some very beautiful architecture, but in contrast to Natchez has a chaotic and boozy atmosphere in the old French Quarters.

We happened to be here on the night of the Halloween parade and Americans don't play around when it comes to this holiday. For the past month all bars have been covered in cobwebs (I hope because of Halloween) and I don't want to know how much time and money some people have spent decorating their houses. In some parts of town, particularly the Tremé neighbourhood where most houses are wooden, the effects of the devastating Hurricane Katrina are still visible but it seems as if things are getting back to normal slowly but surely. After four nights enjoying the delicious Cajun and Creole cuisine we set off again and headed for the wetlands in western Louisiana.

We went on a boat tour seeing alligators and birdlife on a spooky but very pretty swamp lake and then drove to the small town of La Fayette. The only hostel was once again fully booked, but the bartender at the adjacent bar overheard this and kindly offered us to stay on his couch. Only "problem" was we had to wait for his shift to end at 2 AM and drink all the free beer and shots he gave us. Early the morning after, after a couple hours sleep we got our heavy heads up and Anna somehow managed to drive for 9 hours finally taking us to Austin, Texas which is where we are now.

Walking In Memphis

I put on my blue suede shoes, got off the bus and made my way to the only hostel in Memphis, it is part of a local church outside of town, there was no religious feeling to it but you had to complete one small chore every day. This part of the United States really is a cradle for many genres of music and I started my musical pilgrimage by visiting Sun Studios, the place that discovered Elvis Presley among many other stars and recorded the first Rock and Roll song. I was lucky enough to be in Memphis on a Sunday, when soul legend turned reverend, Al Green, hosts the Sunday service at the church which he founded himself. The gospel was more of a two hour long, energy filled concert and standup comedy routine than a religious sermon and was quite possibly the best experience so far on this trip. After this I went to see Graceland, the former home of Elvis to see what all the fuss was about. To be honest the house itself wasn't as grand as I would have thought but it was interesting to see what kitschy decor you could buy if you had unlimited funds in the seventies. Next up on the weird and quirky tour I saw the Peabody Ducks, a very strange tradition dating back to 1930, where every day at 11:00 AM a group of ducks are first led down from their penthouse room in the Peabody Hotel before they are then marched back up at 17:00 after a day of lounging in the lobby's fountain. Hoards of people gather round to witness this short and peculiar act every day and I don't know why, but I actually saw it twice.

I had to wait in Memphis, as my new creditcard was being sent here and spent my evenings drinking beers by the Mississippi river then eating catfish and drinking more beers listening to rock and blues in different bars and clubs on the famous Beale Street with fellow backpackers. The creditcard did finally arrive so I decided to tag along with Anna, a German girl I met in Chicago, another German called Lisa and Filip a Swedish speaking Fin, as Anna drove us all to Clarksdale. I was really lucky to find somebody with a car, as these parts of the Mississippi Delta are virtually inaccessible without a private vehicle. Clarksdale is a kind of Mecca for Blues lovers worldwide but when we got there it felt like everything in the small town had shut down.

We did manage to find an incredible place to stay at the "Shack Up Inn." Formerly a cotton plantation we rented a shack which once used to house the slaves. It is a surreal place with old American cars, farming equipment and random artefacts scattered around the grounds but definitely one of the coolest accommodations I have ever stayed in. On our second day in town, it felt slightly more opened up as we had an option of two Blues clubs, the first one, owned by Morgan Freeman, wasn't quite our cup of moonshine, so we went to "Red's" instead which hit the spot more accurately. This juke joint was no more than four tinwalls and a roof and walking in you hit a wall of musky odours that are probably left best undescribed, but the beers were cheap and we could listen to a one-man-band play his harmonica and cigarrbox-guitar whilst complaining about all the woes in his life. The following morning we decided to drive south so first we dropped northward bound Filip off in Jackson as the girls and I headed for Natchez.

Torainto and the Windy City

Since starting this trip over a month ago I have been extremely lucky with the weather, with summer temperatures and clear skies throughout, bar a day or two in New York. However that changed once I got to Toronto where black clouds and torrential rain awoke me on my first day in the city. I chose to stand up against the elements and did my usual walkabout, a few hours later I was soaked to the bone but had managed to see a lot of the downtown area. There are loads of skyscrapers in Toronto and judging by the construction sites on practically every corner, this will be a very crowded skyline soon. It's not all high buildings though as the city offers some very charming parts as well, notably the hippie street-stalls and shops of Kensington Market and the different ethnic neighbourhoods scattered around.

On my second day here the skies had magically cleared up so I decided it was a good day to visit Niagara Falls which are only about an hour and a half away by bus. Waterfalls are one of those things in life that never grow old or get dull for me, and Niagara didn't disapoint either. The mighty falls were very impressive and it was a new experience to get up close and personal as I took the boat ride on "The Maid of the Mist" which takes you as close as is possible to the walls of water and mist which despite wearing a plastic poncho got me pretty soaked once again. When I came back to the hostel a delicious turkey feast was waiting and lasted long into the night as Canadian Thanksgiving happened to occur during my stay. This was a good way to end my short tour of "America's Hat" and the next night I got on a series of delayed and detoured buses that finally brought me to Chicago after almost 17 hours.

I have visited many nicknamed places but never has one smacked me straight in the face quite as quick as the Windy City. Cold temperatures and what felt like gale force winds accompanied me for my whole stay here but I still had a great time and I like the city a lot. It is another one of those cities where you walk around with an arched neck constantly looking up but whilst Toronto's buildings seem fairly modern, Chicago's architecture feels more unique and historically important as the first skyscrapers in the world were once erected here around the turn of the 20th century. I spent three days walking through the different areas, with the iconic railroad tracks and rattling sounds of the "L-Train" following me around overhead and viewing the famous skyline from different angles but now it is soon time for me to leave as my nightbus will hopefully get me to Memphis by tomorrow morning.

MontReally Annoying!

After my tour of the North-East my feet were killing me due to tremendous amounts of walking and unsupportive footwear so it was nice to get back to New York and feel like I didn't have to walk around and look at stuff constantly. Perhaps I got a bit too relaxed as I somehow managed to punch in the wrong pincode for my creditcard three times and hence got it blocked. As you can imagine this lead to all sorts of complications and after calling my bank they confirmed they could only send me a new card in two weeks time. Luckily I had some cash and could get some more off my grandfather which will hopefully get me through the wait. Due to limited choice in public transport, I decided to skip my planned visit to Boston and instead opted to use the far cheaper train direct from New York to Montreal. The 12 hour trainride was very scenic travelling through the fiery autumnal landscapes of Northern America.

Montreal is a really nice city offering a wide variety of different vibes, from the European historic feel of Old Town to the urban highrises and the peaceful parklands of Mont Royal. Another interesting aspect of the city is that you can pretty much walk underneath the entire place using an intricate system of underground tunnels. After enjoying three nights and two days in the frenchspeaking part of Canada I am now on a bus which will take me southward to Toronto.

A Tale Of Two Cities

The bus from Philadelphia dropped me way out in the outskirts of Baltimore and it took me almost two hours to get into the city due to poor public communications. Once I got into the city I walked to the restaurant where Eric (yes same one as in New York) works, grabbed a few beers and then made our way to his house. Baltimore happens to be Eric's hometown and he was therefore very excited to show off everything it had to offer. The first day his friend drove us to Annapolis, a small town roughly an hour away which was once the capital of the country and to this day is capital of Maryland state. It was a very quaint little place, with cobblestoned streets and small stone-cottages by the harbour, but it did have a slightly artificial feel to it. The rest of the time in Baltimore had a completely different feel, those of you who have seen the TV show "The Wire" will know what I'm talking about, those of you who haven't do yourselves a favour and watch it! We walked all around the city, to the dodgiest areas, where people queuing up for methadone clinics or sitting on the stoops of their houses would just look very confused to see two white guys walking down their street. Baltimore isn't just boarded up houses, drugaddicts and desolate housing projects though, as crossing one street can take you from American Ghetto to American Dream neighbourhood. Eric really had a jampacked schedule planned once more as we hung out with his friends in sketchy stripclubs, punkbars, trendy pubs down by the waterfront, went Duckpin Bowling, and much more. My favourite excursion of all though was the visit to "The National Great Blacks in Wax Museum." As the name suggests it is a waxmuseum depicting the history of the African American population, highlighting many greats such as Martin Luther King Jr, Malcolm X, Rosa Parks, Barack Obama and of course the founders of FUBU-Jeans... After four days of walking "Charm City", I thanked my brilliant tourguide without whom I would have seen considerably less and been completely lost, and caught the MARC-train to Washington D.C.

Arriving in the nations capital I was surrounded by police sirens as there had been some kind of crazed attacker shot on Capitol Hill, I found my hostel and then went out to meet Preston (another friend I made in Uganda.) Of course I managed to time my visit with the chaos Government's Shutdown, something that hasn't happened in almost twenty years, this meant that all Museums and National Parks were closed, but I could still see most monuments even if some where from a bit of a distance. I spent two days walking by what is probably the most famous home in the world and all around the different statues commemorating different Presidents and Wars. Even if it is a very pretty and clean city, I have to be honest and say that I'm not a big fan. With all it's history and iconic landmarks it still just lacks personality and soul, probably due to the fact that everybody seems to have moved here from different parts of the country. I am now sat on a bus which should take me back to New York City. Arriving in the nations capital I was surrounded by police sirens as there had been some kind of crazed attacker shot on Capitol Hill, I found my hostel and then went out to meet Preston (another friend I met in Uganda.) Of course I managed to time my visit with the Government's Shutdown, something that hasn't happened in almost twenty years, this meant that all Museums and National Parks were closed, but I could still see most monuments even if some where from a bit of a distance. I spent two days walking by what is probably the most famous home in the world and all around the different statues commemorating different Presidents and Wars. Even if it is a very pretty and clean city, I have to be honest and say that I'm not a big fan. With all it's history and iconic landmarks it still just lacks personality and soul, probably due to the fact that everybody seems to have moved here from different parts of the country. I am now sat on a bus which should take me back to New York City.

It's Always Sunny In...

Getting the morning bus proved unproblematic despite not getting many hours sleep after the previous nights escapades. I have now been walking around the streets which Bruce Springsteen sang about for three days and it really is a pretty city. Philadelphia played a vital part in the country gaining it's independence and was at one point the capital city. This is evident when walking around, with signs bragging about different important Philadelphians, places of historical interest and a bell with a big crack in it. I also walked to the Art Museum which boasts one of the biggest and most significant art-collections in the U.S.A. However most people seem to opt to do what I did, ignoring the museum and just running up the staircase made famous by Sylvester Stalone in the Rocky movies.

I have also made a realisation which is sad, as I doubt I will be able to do the usual spontaneous travel which I love to do. The United States just aren't used to backpackers, and prices for bustickets go up a lot if not booked well in advance and hostels are few and far between meaning reservations are often very necessary, I was very lucky to get a bed last night without booking. As an example Philadelphia has a population comparable to Budapest, but while the Hungarian capital has over 260 hostel listings Philadelphia has a measly ONE!!!
Now it is time for me to leave the city of brotherly love and catch my bus towards the next city which is Baltimore.