2014 - Day 18 - Third USA Trip - Geriatric Craft Anyone?

First things first…. this morning the Bear saw a bird float by sitting on a piece of wood.  I have nicknamed it, and every other bird in the world “Rose”.  If you never saw the movie “Titanic” (and I sure as shit wish I never had) then never mind.  You won’t get it.

Today we are trying a new tactic.  If you can’t beat the oldies…..join them.    For 4 hours each day, tables are set up in the middle of the ship along with paint, crayons, felt pens and cardboard so that the passengers can write a message to their loved ones to hang over the side of the ship when passing through the Panama Canal.  Of course, our loved ones won’t see the messages unless the passenger forks out a million dollars to buy the photo taken of it…..but hey…..that’s what all cruises are about - trying to drag more of the dollars out of your wallet on top of the offensive amount that you have already spent to be there.

Anyway, these tables are set up with all of the oldies in line with their paint brushes and are drawing pictures to their hearts content.  It reminds me of the kids craft sessions at Bunnings on Saturday and Sunday mornings.    I was sort of hoping there was a tray with googly eyes and big noses on them, just so that we could do a picture of one of our passengers…..but alas, there was not.  

The Bear and I took our places beside the oldies and began to paint our signs.  Our levels of intelligence dropped by the second as we painted our signs “S.O.S” and “Help”.    Ok….so we didn’t do that, but we wanted to!  I need to tell you though that the effort it took to draw out the letters and then paint between the lines on a rocking ship was harder than it looked.  For those of you that know me, you know that I am fairly challenged when it comes to colouring in or cutting along a straight line.  Add the rocking ship into the mix, as well as the engaging company either side of us *rolls eyes* and you have a story that movies are made of.   I wish this movie involved lots of pirates now though.

So we made a sign with our kids names on it (and yes, I wanted to make a second with our animals names on it), and the word AUSTRALIA on the bottom.  The Bear carefully painted that word in green and gold whilst I started on the letters at the top of the page.   The amount of dickheads that came up, stared and asked “are you from Australia” will have me shaking my head until black turns into white.   The urge to say “no toss-wank, we are from Argentina and just spelled it wrong” was almost too much.   Or even “Oh…really……does that say Australia?  We meant Zimbabwe”. 

For those that actually assume that the word Australia, DOES in fact match our accents, I am also left scratching my head with the conversations that ensue.

Them:  “Where about’s in Australia are you from?”

Us:       “A few hours from Brisbane”.

Them:  “Where is that?”

Us:       “Queensland”

Them:  “Where is that?”

Us:       “Northern State on the Eastern Coast”.

Them:  *blank look*

Us:       “Where the Great Barrier Reef is”.

Them:  “Is that near Mellborrrrrrrrne?”

Me:       “Yes….yes it is”

 

The Bear keeps saying that he will not stoop to their level of ignorance or bad manners.   I have made it my duty to make it up for the both of us!  Mind you he did tell someone yesterday that we were getting electricity there soon.  The recipient of the light hearted sarcasm took him seriously!

 

Tonight’s entertainment was a ventriloquist with his dummy called “Noseworthy”.  “Noseworthy” is an old man with a very big nose.  I found myself wondering if this was an excellent attempt at mimicking our ships passengers but would suggest that this was simply a coincidence.  I doubt that the oldies would have noticed however the dummy might have had half a clue.   Very good show.  Had I have had a hand in it (hahaha…..get it.  Hand in the puppet?) I would have had more fun with it but I still certainly appreciated the cleverness and skill in the act.

 

 

2014 - Day 17 - Third USA Trip - Sale? What sale?

Today is our first of nearly four without land.    It is a loooooooong way from Cabo San Lucas, Mexico to San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua.  I am dismayed to find that an awful lot of toilets on board are failing (around 3 out of every 4) and I can only assume it’s due to the oldies trying to flush their “Depends” down.  For those that are aware of my own health issues……this is not good news!

The Pacific Ocean is a beautiful blue, almost a light turquoise.  Light reflects somehow underneath the water giving a sun ray effect from below the surface.  It truly is pretty and unfortunately cannot be captured by my camera.  Heaven knows that I tried.  The sea breeze is very warm and I find myself wondering what the weather will be like as we make our way further south.  If it is anything like it was in Cabo, it will be horrendous.

It appears that every time we leave a port, the ship is going to have a “Sail Away Party” on deck 15.  Am not quite sure why they would go to all of this trouble for 2 Octogenarians and a stray seagull but hey, our big bucks had to have paid for something a little more than a gay boy band and some lady boys (and no….I still haven’t worked it out).  However they can save and double up on the music by playing the William Tell Overture at both the “Sail Away Parties” and the mornings opening of the buffet.

I had a bit of a dummy spit on the ship today (and I know that will come as a surprise to all of you.  NOT!) when I found out about a rort on the ship.  Given that it was an “At Sea” day, they decided to have a $10 sale.  El cheapo watches, purses, belts and hats were all being sold at the “bargain” price of $10.    Whilst everything else in there would clearly have fallen apart after one use, I still purchased a large floppy hat given that I had experienced the sun in Mexico, and it was so bloody hot.   I fought with the old biddies that felt that they had rights to a bargain before I did, but I tell ya…..I gave as good as I got.  I am learning quickly with these old ducks!  Mind you, one of them kept dropping their guts however I am sure that this was a strategic (and very effective) move.  I might have done the same and cleared the room however I wouldn’t have done that to my husband, nor could have bragged about it to my Mum. 

Anyway, taking my purchase I walked out of the “sale” and into the adjoining shop which sells souvenirs, some apparel and odds and ends. This is the same store from which the sale items originated from.  I was interested in seeing the items that we not on sale.  Upon entering, the Bear gestured to me to come closer to where he was and was holding up the same hat which I had just bought next door in the “sale”.  He held up the price tag on this hat.  It had a price tag of $6.99 on it.   I picked up another……and it was the same….and so on, and so on.

*brain explosion*

I grab the $6.99 hat and march up to the counter.  When asked “Mee I heeelp yaw” by the Latino behind the desk my response of “BLOODY OATH!!” was met with a quizzical look.  In fact she looked a little like my Prudence (for those of you who live under a rock and don’t know who my Prudence is, she is one of the loves of my life – one of my fur babies) does when she is listening to me.  Holding the $6.99 hat in one hand and the $10 “sale” hat in the other, I proceeded to demand an explanation as to which universe I was sailing in…..because the one that I actually lived in, would have promoted the $6.99 sale item hat as the actual SALE item….in the SALE!  Not INCREASE the price of the hat so that it came up to “one price fits all” at a $10 sale.  Now I am fairly sure that there is no Trade Practice Act that governs international waters so I came up with the most hurtful and below the belt 3 words I could muster – “this is low”.    After the fact of course I could come up with a zillion 3 word lines not only for this instance, but for other times. 

 

Here are a couple just for information sake:

 

*   Princess Cruises Suck

*   Old People Suck

*   Sale price moron!

*   What the f**k??

*   Clean your teeth!

*   F**K who smells?!!!!!!

*   Change your pants!!!

*   Who farted now?

*   Why fart here?

*   Why shit here?

*   Purple rinse set

*   LET ME OFF!!!

*   More alcohol stat!

*   Are you serious?

*   You ARE serious?

*   Kill me now!

*   Please kill me!

*   Kill me please!

*   Back off Boris!

*   Back off Bessie!

*   Just BACK OFF!

*   Alllll righty then!

*   Nap time already?

*   Oil those wheels!!!!!

*   Take a bath!!!!!

*   Deodorant.  Use deodorant!

*   Again, who farted?????

 

I could go on and on.  *sigh*   Just for the record, I did receive a $3.01 refund for catching them out.  Only small dollars but a HUGE principle!

Tonight on board we did see a very, very funny impressionist from Las Vegas.  He was a Jason Statham look alike, and used his 30 minute time slot well.  I am not sure that the oldies got anyone other than his impression of Johnny Carson however we liked him enough to want to look him up should we ever return to Vegas.  That is….if we survive this cruise.

 

 

 

2014 - Day 16 - Third USA Trip - Mexico, Old Farts and Tequila!

*Note:  please do not read if easily offended.  I am not racist by any means however events of the night might sound as if I was.  These paragraphs are a translation of my key words as kept in my diary when I travel*

Oh my God.  What have we done?  We have landed ourselves in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with the top 2 percent of the world’s rudest people!  It’s not just that they are old and cranky, they are unashamedly rude!   They will literally be walking past us, stop, and stare point blankly at what we are doing or what we are eating.    They will bark orders at us in the lifts as though we are the house keepers and have no hesitation in pushing at us, pushing past us, or running over our toes with their walkers.

Amid the countless levels of discomfort with these people, my new personal favourite today, is getting in a lift with these people.  That is….if they let you.   We have no choice but to ride with them, as there is limited lifts on the ship and there is always someone in them. If, and I say IF we manage to not get trampled in the stampede of walkers when the lift dings, we get to enjoy the experience of a lifetime once inside.  I thought the Tower of Terror lift at Disneyland was scary.  It pales in comparison.

Once we are trapped in the lift with the socially challenged, we are first aware of the overpowering aroma of bad breath.  I am not sure whether it could be because their Polident has reached its expiry date, or because they have placed some left over shrimp in their dentures for a late night snack, but the smell is thick and horrendous.  Mixed in with the wafts of Eau De Mothballs I question as to how these people cannot smell themselves.  It has come to the point where I have had to cover my nose whilst in the lift for fear of vomiting.  Of course, behind this glorious stench, comes the air shattering introduction to their body odour.  It takes every ounce of restraint to stop myself from asking when they had taken their last bath or shower. My lungs are screaming given that I am needing to hold my breath, and as I take a quick intake to stop them from bursting I find that more than one of them has dropped their guts, or filled their pants.  Or both! On more than one occasion I am positive that I have lost consciousness however have been able to maintain my upright position given that apparently once you are 153 years old, your sense of mathematical common sense becomes null and void.  The amount of persons that they believe can fit into a lift exceeds that which is possible for its square area.  And this doesn’t include their walkers!  On the positive side of things, IF there was a situation where we weren’t playing sardines and I suffered a broken hip as a result of collapsing in the lift, this would not be a problem given that it’s in the Top 5 most common ailments on this ship (coming second/third to being trampled-at-the-buffet and death) and it is well equipped to cope with this.  In fact I am sure there are rooms on this floating dinghy that house prosthetic limbs, dentures, hearing aids, and pine coffins.

Today we did get to go ashore to Cabo San Lucas which is in Mexico.  It is at the end of the Baha Peninsula is was a lovely looking place.  We could only spend a couple of hours there for two reasons.  We would only be in port for 5 or so hours, and it was so bloody hot.  And I mean HOT!!  Locals are in your face on the pier trying to force you to buy tickets to go on tour in their leaky boats and are trying to sell you “genuine” wares which of course is a load of fiddlesticks.  However Cabo itself was a lovely place and I was very glad to say that I had finally been across the border (albeit by boat) into Mexico.  I had finally visited another country!

Our stress levels have quadrupled rather than halved since being on the boat.  The massages at the spa whilst glorious are ridiculously expensive.  If we could have a dozen of them a day we could probably cope, but this is not feasible.  We have to resort to the next best thing – alcohol.  As most of you know I do not drink with my medication however I feel the need to throw caution to the wind (and there is plenty of THAT on this boat).  We are attending our first show on the ship tonight and decide to order a ridiculously expensive Margarita to cope with getting through the event given our surrounding and unfortunate company.  I failed to mask my surprise when the Margarita virtually came in a bucket (it was huge) and I felt pangs of concern.  Not because of what it would do with my medication, but due to what I would be capable of given that much alcohol.  I was hoping that there wasn’t a pole on the stage as I might feel the need to use it after a few sips of this cocktail.  I dig in and say goodbye to my inhibitions.

The show that we were to see was simply called “The Piano Man”.  Given that Billy Joel has this nickname we felt that this might simply be a man playing piano and singing the songs of Billy Joel.   We hoped to lose ourselves in the tribute of one of our favourites and forget the rudeness of the people around us for a short while.  Given the relaxation that the Margarita blessed us with I was looking forward to this break from reality. 

The show started with an amazing bang with some sort of gay boy band launching themselves onto the stage.  They pranced around like drunken gazelles singing a line each at a time in what I can only describe as a strangled mess.  They were quickly joined on stage by a group of dancers and two lady vocalists.  I desperately struggled to determine whether they were in fact ladies, or, lady-boys.  One of them, a dark skinned lady with a seriously strange shaped body, seriously looked in pain as she sang with an exaggerated emotion.  The other managed to hold every third note but looked wistfully in the distance with her every word rather than connect with her audience.  The bad sounding gayboy band continued to frolic unashamedly around the stage and I spontaneously burst into a round of uncontrollable giggles.  Anyone who knows me well will be able to picture me trying to stifle these giggles which in turn made them worse tenfold.

I attempted to distract myself by guzzling my bucket of Margarita and even attempted origami with my straw however my giggling turned to loud guffaws and I was unable to control the belly laughs that embarrassingly erupted from within. It was obvious that the dancers were lip syncing although one dancer, a pretty lass of Asian decent was a full three or four words behind the rest and I felt like I was watching a really badly dubbed movie.  One of the male dancers, a stocky looking blond, was very clearly out of sync with the choreography and nearly took off the head off the dark skinned woman/lady-boy (I still hadn’t worked it out) when doing some sort of flip across the stage.  I wished I had my daily guide on me as I wasn’t aware that this was meant to be a comedy show so just wanted to check, although the stony faced crowd around me indicated that it was meant to be serious.  Oh ok….so it wants a comedy.  The Bear, who had ordered a second bucket of Margarita, just seemed amused that I could not contain my laughing.  I just hoped that my snorts got lost in the very loud music and squawking and in fact tried to time it with the pushing/baring down as written on the dark-skinned-ladyboy woman’s pained face.

Badly-synced-Asian was joined on the stage by uncoordinated-Indian-princess and the ugly-blonde-and-black-haired-step-sisters (actually I think they were twins) and with the constipated-looking-dark-skinned-ladyboy/woman (I STILL hadn’t worked it out) and wistful-now-known-as-Julie-Andrews-lady-vocalist, I made a mental promise to myself and the theatre full of old farts that I would NEVER drink alcohol again before attending any show.  Well that is unless it was actually a comedy where I would not be the one person in 500 that was laughing uncontrollably rather than be disgusted at the poor performance.

Leaving the theatre I found myself stumbling up the aisle.  I initially thought this was the after effects of alcohol; however I was relieved to find that it was as a result of entering rough seas.  Fortunately for me though, given that I had consumed more than my usual intake of alcohol, I was not anywhere as nearly as scared of the rocking of the boat as I would have been stone cold sober.   Sticking our heads out on the balcony once returning to our stateroom it was obvious that the ocean was angry.  Rather than the great black abyss that we would usually be met with, we saw white caps as far as the eye could see (which for me seriously, wasn’t that far!) and I found myself wondering how Rose would have stayed afloat on her timber door in cold northern waters should she have experienced these sea conditions following the downing of the Titanic.  Ahhhhhhh never mind.  That is a thought for another day…..when I would actually be worried.  Sleep beckoned!

2014 - Day 15 -Third USA Trip - First full day at Sea

Today we will have a full day at sea paralleling the coast of Mexico.  Our first port stop will be tomorrow afternoon where we will dock off Cabo San Lucas in Mexico which as the end of the Baha Peninsula.   We had a reasonably comfortable night and despite my sooky la-la mood last night I do feel better this morning. 

Given the demographic of the majority of passengers on the ship most of the activities are generated with them in mind.  Bingo, shuffle board, old movies etc are seriously not our cup of tea.  As there is a beauty spa on board I suggested to the Bear that we pay them a visit to see what services are available.  We popped down to the Lotus Spa which seemed to be a little bit of an oasis on board.  It was quiet and welcoming and there wasn’t a single walking frame in sight.  We grabbed a price list and took it with us to lunch so we could decide if we would be game to part with some cold cash in the name of personal vanity.  We decided we would have a “couples massage”.

Heading back to the spa for our massage, I worried about the Bear as I remembered him going to one of those Chinese Masseuses in Adelaide.  The little Asian that did his shoulder massage got into him so bad he almost bruised and I am fairly sure this scared him off massages for life.  Yes I understand that he had agreed to one today with me, but I was sure that he was just being kind.  I chuckled away to myself as the lady at the spa gave us a large dressing gown to get changed into although secretly hoped that it was big enough to cover his height, and my waist.  The answer was yes to both counts.

We were led into a massage room that housed two beds.  We were left by ourselves to allow us a moment to take off our gowns and cover ourselves with a towel.  Just for the record undies were to be kept on…..which is just as well as they would have had to remove them from our cold lifeless bodies should that have been required.    After a few minutes our masseurs joined us and the panic on the Bears face was evident.  He sort of thought he might have been allocated a man where as his masseuse was a very tall, very strong handed, dark skinned lady from near Pretoria, Africa.  I only the other hand had a short, dumpy (similar to me) dark skinned lady from Botswana, Africa. 

The massages were incredible.  Both ladies were very skilled in their profession and this was proven by the fact that the Bear started to snore half way through.  I didn’t think that I heard correctly at first, so tried to ask a little quietly whether my husband was asleep.  As another snore was out before I finished by sentence, I burst out laughing! This woke up the Bear and I was chastised (jokingly) by one of the very heavily accented ladies who told me that I was “very naughty”.  This made me laugh even louder and the poor lady that was attempting to complete my “service” found that she had a job on her hands….literally. My bits and pieces were jiggling in a way that would have registered on the Richter scale.

Back up in our room we needed to shower to get rid of the massage goop that we now wore.  There was no way that we could have gone down to dinner wearing the stuff.  The oldies stared at us without shame without a cause to do so, so I could only imagine what they would have done with our skin glistening like a polished apple and smelling like lemon and juniper.  I sat at my laptop whilst the Bear was in the shower and he called out to ask if I knew what the red cord was, that hung in there.  I suggested to him that it might have been some sort of alarm given the age of clientele that frequented this cruise although I was not sure given that it did not have a sign nearby.  Before I had finished talking the phone to our stateroom rang.  I called out to the Bear…..”You pulled the bloody cord didn’t you?”    Of course…..I was right on both counts.  He had indeed pulled the cord, and it most definitely was an alarm! 

 

 

2014 - Day 14 - Third USA Trip - Happy Veterans Day. Lets Cruise!

Today is Veterans Day in the USA - which I guess is the same as Armistice Day at home.

Leaving Palm Springs, I rang Nicco given that it might be the last time I have the opportunity to call before boarding our cruise ship.  We won’t have access to phone in international waters and the thought of leaving my youngest alone in the USA scares me to death.  Not for him, but for all Americans.  He spent his first night in Las Vegas last night and I wondered if he might have woken up in a gutter somewhere, or worse…..in some hooker’s bed.  Neither to both (at least that I am aware of) as he sounded reasonably ok.

As I chat to him on the phone, I will be stuffed if we came across yet another sign (on top of the missed 2 yesterday) for Joshua Tree National Park. I desperately tried to get my camera on my phone to work however it would night whilst a call was in progress.  I barked down the phone that I would call him back in a minute, hung up, and launched myself at the camera.  Of course…..I missed the damned sign…..a-freakin’-gain.   I stayed perfectly poised for the next several minutes before conceding defeat. I was not going to get a photo of that sign on this trip.  Good excuse to come back again I guess.  Not that we really need another one on top of Walmart.

 
We made better time than expected getting from Palm Springs to L.A and head straight to Long Beach where we would be dropping off our hire car and getting a cab to the cruise terminal.  This allowed us plenty of time to get something to eat and fill up the car, and even a quick stop at Petsmart! Lord what a strange area of Los Angeles.  You know those funny looking hammer things that go in and out of the earth where there is an oil well?  Well they had several of them within the suburb.  One beside a bank (maybe that’s how they get their money eh?); one beside a supermarket (perhaps for something in lieu of “Bryl Cream”?); and one beside a gas station which doubled as a McDonalds (perhaps the first is self explanatory and they also use it to cook the Maccas in?). 

Getting the cab to the cruise terminal was, in the least, interesting.  When advising where we wanted to be taken to, the Indian cab driver had no idea where it was.  We were in the same suburb as it so one would have thought that a cab driver knew where ships departed from.  Apparently not.  I had to google the address for him on my phone.  Next he advised *insert perfect korma accent here* “I dun naw wherr dat is.  Yoo naw?”.  The Bear and I looked at each other thinking that our large amount of luggage and Australian accents might have been a give away but apparently not.  After advising that no we did not know, the Bear suggested that he use his GPS.  “I dun naught huff wun of dem”.  We just looked at each other again, and the Bear passed him ours to use.  We never travel without one. 

The cab we were in was a mini van as that is what we required with our amount of luggage.  We had to sit in the back of it to allow our luggage a chance to fit in and this meant sitting on a bench seat.  This is all very well and good unless you are three parts dwarf such as myself.  Whilst the Bear could stretch out and compensate for the lack of shockies using his long legs, my legs just dangled in the wind and I gripped onto my seat belt for grim death.

When we got to the cruise terminal approximately 15 minutes later I actually wondered if I had in fact died and had gone to heaven/hell as there were zillions of bent over grey headed people wobbling around with walking frames and in wheelchairs.    We clearly had arrived at the Pearly Gates although I did question why the hell I would be there as I know that I will be going south.  Unfortunately for me, I had not died and gone to heaven.  These people only a heart beat away from the afterlife were also arriving for the same cruise.   We desperately searched the crowds for somebody….anybody under the age of 100 but alas…..our search was fruitless.  We weren’t going on the Love Boat…..we were going on 2000 Shades of Grey!

I sought comfort in the fact that if the boat was going to do a Titanic, we would at least be first to the lifeboats, but as we soon found out, these crotchety old people treated the buffet like the old red light specials at Kmart.  Not only could they move quickly when they wanted to, they were prepared to kill to get first taste of the shrimp! Instead of the air being filled with glorious chatter and laughter, we had the sounds of teeth dropping and squeaky wheels of walking frames.   We hadn’t even left port yet and I was looking for ways to jump overboard.

Getting up to our stateroom I was glad to be away from the oldies that made my own parents look like teenagers.   Our luggage was delivered shortly after arriving up there and I thought that perhaps once we had our possessions around us we might feel a little better.  We had worse news to come though.  A can of coke that was in one of our suitcases (so that we could put some in the fridge in our stateroom) had exploded.  Worse still, it was in the suitcase that housed the purchases from the Honda Centre…..in other words…..Alyx’s Ducks merchandise.  I just about had a mind out as we dove in to try and save her prized possessions.  Fortunately I had wrapped the coke up reasonably well, and had protected her Ducks merchandise against any type of disaster and it did not sustain any damage.  All of my boxes of medication didn’t fair so well but that was fine.

Heading down to the mandatory emergency drill procedures session, I took note of all of the doors on the way.  As a lot of you know, I have no issue at all with flying, but stick me on a boat and I shit myself.  If the Titanic sank then so can any damned dingy.  Alyx’s advice to me was to check out the doors because that’s what Rose floated on in the movie.  And yes....I am saying this tongue in cheek.  I still looked at the doors carefully though…..just in case.  I didn’t find a wooden door that would suffice however found a coffee table that would do just fine if the need arises.

Am feeling very homesick tonight.  I miss my dogs, I miss our cats, I miss my kids, I miss my home.  Thank heavens for the Bear.  Again…bless him.   Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

2014 - Day 13 - Third USA Trip - WTF Colonel Sanders?

Today we left Las Vegas and headed for Palm Springs.  The Bear has visited there before however it would be a first for me.    We decided that rather than sticking to the Interstate routes, we would turnoff at Barstow in the middle of the Mojave Desert and take the back highway through.  We figured that maybe by taking the back highway that there might be some new, and exciting *rolls eyes* things to look at which is of course appreciated by Ms Shutterbug International. 
 

Before we got as far as Barstow I wanted to stop at Baker to see 2 things – the world’s tallest thermometer and some place that promoted the worlds best “alien jerky”.  I mean what was the go with that?  Was it something green and chewy?  Was it carved up little green men?  In any case we achieved both.  I stood beside the world’s tallest thermometer (seriously I am not sure why I bothered) and saw the place that promoted the world’s best alien jerky.  I didn’t go inside to see what the heck it was because we were running short of time, and I had decided that I wanted to be left with my own imagination as to what it was.  I felt that was going to be way more exciting than the reality.
 

Turning off at Barstow we embarked on a road that we had never travelled before.    As for finding new scenery and things to photograph, holy bloody hell.   This was worse than the Mojave Desert and this was just butt ugly.  I mean FFS we could not even play “I spy”.  We would have had one go each and that would have been it!  I spy with my little eye, something beginning with “r”.  Rock and road.  That was it.  We would not have even been able to come up with another letter!  And trying to make pictures out of clouds?  What clouds?    After a hundred miles of driving yet another long, straight road we actually came across a fence.  To say that I was excited because we saw a fence is an understatement.  That was until I had a complete mind f**k trying to figure out what a large paddock of rock would need a fence for.
 

I will say this though….I managed to capture a photograph of tumbleweed.  This is something that I have been trying to obtain since our first trip over here, and at last on my fourth trip, I get it.  The simple things eh?  Some would like to photograph the Eiffel Tower.  Me…..a large bunch of desert crap blowing across a road.  I was a little surprised at the noise it made as we hit it and have no doubt at all that a larger amount could do damage to a vehicle.
 

Travelling further along the LONGEST AND MOST F**KING BORING ROAD IN THE WHOLE UNIVERSE despite me having my camera poised at ALL times, I managed to miss out of taking a photo of the sign indicating a turnoff ahead to the Joshua Tree National Park.  I waited, and waited, and waited for another sign but it was not too come.   Not only was I extremely pissed at missing out on a photo of this sign, I wondered WTF Bono and U2 were thinking when they named an album after this horrendous countryside! The mere fact that we had come close to it was a little bit of an excitement for me (hence my desire for the photo), however this being said, James Spader could have walked out on the road at this point of the trip and I would have just yelled to get out of the way so that we could get to where we were going.
 

Finally we stumbled across the town of “Yukka”.  We were allegedly within an hour of Palm Springs but we were thirsty and hungry and in desperate need of a pee and some fuel.  We pulled into a gas station that doubled as a subway so it seemed like all of our prayers were answered.  Hmmmm…..not so much.  We were able to get fuel and were able to get a drink, and were even able to use a fairly grotty toilet, but the line up at Subway was long and was clear that it contained all residents of the states mental institution.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, but we needed to be on our way in a hurry, and I preferred not to witness having someone pick their nose and have it rubbed on me for luck.  *vomits*
 

We decided that we would wait until we got to Palm Springs for something to eat however a KFC made a rare appearance.  I saw harp playing cherubs and lolly pink unicorns. We had struck pay dirt. However….*sigh*….I am fairly sure that if there is a God he was playing a very big game of payback given my lifetime of non-believing and blasphemy.  The first thing we notice about the KFC is that it doesn’t sell hot chips.  I mean absolutely no hot chips. WHICH KFC DOES NOT SELL HOT CHIPS?????  Their biggest selling item (other than chicken of course) with the seriously yummy seasoning! Double checking we found that this was indeed the same KFC we have….you know…..Colonel Sanders joint.  That is completely and utterly in sane.    We review the menu and the Bear decides he will have some sort of a chicken burger (called a sandwich over here).  I decided I will have some crispy chicken strips because not much else looks like we have on our own menu at home, and I am still pissed about the lack-of-chips situation. 
 

Going through the drive-thru, the Bear has to repeat the order multiple times as we do in every drive-thru here.  That’s ok.  We’re used to that.  However, he is told that there are no chicken burgers….I mean sandwiches.  In fact, he is advised that they are sold out of every sort of “sandwich” on their menu.  I looked at the clock and it was only 1pm.  What the???  What KFC restaurant or any other takeaway outlet for that matter sells out of their product by 1pm?????  Defeated he just orders an apple turnover (he actually said apple pie to start off with which absolutely bamboozled the attendant.  I was more bamboozled by the fact that they sold apple turnovers at KFC and not bloody chips!!!) and a larger serve of crispy chicken strips to share.
 

Back out on the road we are on our last leg before Palm Springs.  The crispy chicken strips are barely edible and are very peppery, but at least they are food.  I placed down my camera in order to be able to eat, and of course, what should happen?  Another friggin’ sign for the Joshua Tree National Park.  I threw my chicken tender and grabbed for my camera, but of course I missed it.  Just shoot me. 
 

The view out the window coming into Palm Springs was again ugly yet fascinating at the same time.  Enormously huge windmills were in their hundreds if not thousands providing America with some of its electricity source.  I haven’t the faintest idea why Australia is not following suit.  The Americans are at least using their vast spaces and natural resources to help provide necessary utilities to its residents.  The landscape itself had changed from rocky to something yet again.  I cannot quite find the right words for what I could see, but “puckered, brown mountains” is the closest I can come to.
 

The suburbs of Palm Springs such as Palm Desert and Cathedral City are stunning.  They are very green and lush, with plentiful bougainvillea and of course palm trees. The down town district of Palm Springs is older than its outer suburbs so is by no means as modern however the main street is full of a variety of very nice restaurants of every ethnicity.  It actually makes the area seem like a combination of both yuppy and quaint.  However it was the presence of Christmas lights (yes….already) that gave the main street an extra bit of ambience and warm glow.  Interestingly though Palm Springs does not have street lights.  There are some dim ones at major intersections, but that is it.  Along the roadways, even the major ones, there are simply no street lights at all.  I have no idea how people can walk/jog after dark as there would seem to be a major safety issue here.  We even had trouble finding the driveway to our hotel because the area is simply too dark!
 

So Palm Springs has been seen and done.  Tomorrow morning we head back to L.A where we will board the Island Princess for our Panama Canal cruise. This is a new experience for both me and the Bear.  Excited much?  You bet!

2014 - Day 12 - Third USA Trip - New York, New York, Las Vegas

Before I forget to tell you, last night I again came across one of those great American women that I told you about a few days ago.  One of those *cough* ladies whom I aspire to be like.
 

We were at The Venetian and in line to enter the V Theatre to see Tim Allen in his one night only show.  The line was lengthy and moving slowly so I had ample opportunity to become acquainted with the back of the head of the person/people in front of us. I found myself admiring a diamante clip that was in the hair of the lady in front.  Her hair was shoulder length and perfectly curled with the sides pulled back and being held by the clip.  As she turned slightly to talk to her paramour I noticed that she had matching diamante stud earrings which complimented her hair clip.  They sparkled as she moved around and I felt pangs of regret that I no longer had long hair which I can tie back.
 

She wore a body hugging silver strapless dress which the diamantes again complimented.  I noticed a tattoo of a butterfly on her right shoulder which obviously had faded.  It probably really didn’t go very well with her overall outfit but hey….if you’ve got it, flaunt it I say.    Strange as it might seem I found myself looking down to see what type of shoe she was wearing to complete her outfit.  I guess I wouldn’t be a true female myself if I didn’t have some sort of curiosity.  I felt a little awkward as my eyes ran down her legs however once I got to her feet I could not hide my exclamation.  The woman was wearing thongs. I would not have been more surprised if she had been wearing army boots.    I figured they might have been just for comfort purposes whilst she stood in the long line, however not so.  As we followed her into the V Theatre and watched her take her seat, I watched her place her perfectly thonged feet on the back of the chair in front.  No changing of shoes at all.  In fact the only change that I saw her do was shift to place her feet further apart I am guessing to make herself more comfortable.  I am sure that this would not have been for her paramour to have easy access although he did take the opportunity to play a little bit of hidey-go-seek with a straw.  There you go.  Hats off to you chick!  Another great American *cough* woman who does not give a shit about what other people think!
 

Today we went to New York, New York as a promise to a lovely lady from my hairdressing salon at home.   She stayed there in August this year and had mentioned that we should seek out the Titanic slot machine when visiting Vegas.  She mentioned this at the time of my last hair cut, given that my own magnificent hairdresser was going to be in Vegas at the same time as us.   We decided we would have lunch within the casino first before seeking out the machine.  We had a great meal at a American Bar within New York, New York before embarking on the search for the slot machine.  This was a little harder than I thought it would be however given my genetic disposition for having poor sense of direction, as well as failing at virtually every orienteering challenge I have ever been set, this should have not come at any surprise.   This being said, eventually we did locate the said slot machine and I settled in to win a fortune.  Well what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas and on this occasion that was going to be our money.  The Bear and I quickly lost a small fortune (in our language anyway) quicker than the Titanic bloody well sank.   In an effort to recoup some of our loss (which of course is what the whole casino idea is based on!) we moved to an adjacent machine called “Puppy Power” which was absolutely right up my alley and we did in fact win the money back.  Don’t think for a moment that I seriously expected to.
 

While I am on the topic of anything puppy, I just want to make mention of an ad that is shown in TV over here.  Now TV advertising does nothing for me ever.  It annoys me to the point of distraction and quite often I would like nothing better than to do an Elvis especially when Harvey Norman or Super Amart ads come on. I find advertising offensive and intrusive and it does nothing but turns me off the product or company that is being promoted.  Will I buy a Jeep?  Not if my life depended on it.  Will I ever shop at Kmart again?  Hell no.   However there is an ad over here for the A.S.P.C.A.  It is the American equivalent of our R.S.P.C.A.   I have never, ever hid my love for my dogs and it is no secret that I have volunteered for the R.S.P.C.A in the past so I think it’s fair to say that an ad of this nature would have always grabbed by attention irrespective of my dislike for advertising.  This one however sets a precedent.  Not only will this ad capture my attention like no other, it will reduce me to tears and have me sell my soul to the devil for its cause.    They want/need donations and I am almost prepared to sell my house and hand them everything.  It has come to the point where I just cannot look at the TV when the ad is on.  It is TV advertising at its very best; it’s most powerful; and cleverly targets the very market that will give them the most - the likes of me.    I know that we live in Australia, however if you are ever looking for a cause that you wish to donate your millions to, think of the A.S.P.C.A.  Not because they deserve it more than any other charity at home, but because they achieved the almost impossible.  They made me cry and they sold me their “product”.