Archive for the 'Travel' Category

Jacksonville Jaguars 24 Indianapolis Colts 31

Published
by
Andrew
on 20 December, 2008
in Football, Life stories and Travel
. 0 Comments

Jacksonville Municipal Stadium

When I was a teenager during the 1980s I was a keen viewer of Channel 4 / Cheerleader’s production “American Football” hosted by Nicky Horne. The Sunday night show brought edited highlights of a main game, and a summary of all the action from the rest of the weekend’s matches. Back then I had no real allegiance to any particular team but looked out for the results of the Washington Redskins, LA Raiders, and New England Patriots mainly because I liked the design and colours of their kits, or because of particular team members. The flying close range touchdowns of Raider’s Running Back Marcus Allen were a reason for my interest in that particular team. One year I even had an American football for Christmas, and my mates would play the game on Wolstanton Marsh instead of our usual football or cricket. As time passed my strong interest waned, although I would occasionally watch the annual Super Bowl match. However since my earlier visits to Jacksonville this year I’ve followed the fortunes of the Jaguars, a franchise that was not around when I watched American Football in the 1980s. So far I’ve never been in the country while the season was taking place. Until this December that is…

I picked up a ticket on the day of the game after a very protracted phone call to Ticketmaster who struggled with my British accent. The cheapest seats were $55, and $10 more after service charges and other spurious additions. An expensive outlay but it would be an experience I kept telling myself. So armed with my Jaguars vest, Jaguars teal cap, and my decent camera I perhaps foolishly set off by bus from the beaches to Downtown. I say foolishly because the stadium is very much geared to serving the King Car of course. There are park and ride services, but frustratingly nothing that seemed to cater for the public transport user. Additionally frustrating as the BH-1 bus hurtles past the Municipal Stadium, but does not stop until the Rosa Parks station about 2 miles away. So trying the memorise the route I set off on “Shank’s pony” to the game.

The game was due to start at 8:15pm so I was giving myself plenty of time by arriving at Rosa Parks at 6pm. The weird thing about Downtown is that by that time of night the city workers have gone home and the place is deserted. The only people wandering around are daft nervous Englishmen and the homeless. The first mile was main city streets, empty and yet vaguely threatening. After that as the stadium got closer fans trickled along East Duval Street with me, having parked in streets and private lots in the vicinity for a price considerably less that the official parking’s $25. My route took me past the Veteran’s Memorial Arena where Barack Obama had addressed his followers the day before his historic election victory. As I got nearer to the stadium, which looked like a huge alien craft lighting up the surrounding area, fans were “tailgating” - enjoying food and drink from the back of their cars often under tent like structures, and generally partying before the game started.

I collected my ticket, bizarrely from a young woman from Surrey in England, and wandered around the huge complex. Once in I got myself some sweet potato fries, and taking advantage of a 30% sale ordered myself a Jaguars gameshirt with my name on it. I don’t think I was really prepared for the size of the place and I think I was walking around with my jaw permanently hanging open in astonishment. This was especially the case when I saw where my seat was up in the “Gods” which gave an incredible view of the pitch, and the massive scoreboard to my left. (Stoke City take note - now that’s a scoreboard!)

Jacksonville Municipal Stadium early doors

In true American over the top razmataz the game was preceded by the singing of the national anthem while troops held a US flag so large it must have been about a quarter of the pitch, and the final lines of the song were accompanied by a flypast of 3 airforce jets. The coin toss was conducted by ex-Jaguar Richard Collier who in September had suffered 14 gunshot wounds outside an apartment building in Jacksonville as he and former Jaguars teammate Kenny Pettway waited for two women they had met at a nightclub. The shots, including five to his bladder and two to his lower spine, left him paralyzed from the waist down, and a blood clot later caused the amputation of his left leg above the knee. It was Collier’s first appearance at the stadium since the incident and he received a very warm welcome and great ovation.

Jaguars take to the field

I wasn’t expecting much from the Jaguars given their recent poor form and the Colts more impressive record. However the Jaguars came out firing on all cylinders, scoring two touchdowns with their first two drives. The Jaguars swiftly marched down to the Colts’ 28 yard line, allowing QB David Garrard to find WR Dennis Northcutt with a fine pass for a touchdown. Their next possession was a 17 play drive culminating with Garrard rushing in himself for a touchdown giving the home side a 14-0 lead. However the Colts hit back with the next drive, moving up the field before QB Peyton Manning fired in a 41 yard touchdown pass which exposed hopeless cover in the Jaguars defence. The next Jaguars drive resulted in a punt on 4th Down and the Colts seemed certain to score again as they moved from deep in their own half to the Jacksonville 9 yard line. However the Jaguars defence held out and limited the Colts to a field goal attempt which was missed. In contrast the final action of the first half was a successful Jaguar field goal to send them in 17-7 up at Half Time.

Jaguars first drive

Touchdown dance

Collecting my new shirt delayed my return to my seat and I was shocked to discover in their opening drive the Colts had pulled back another touchdown through a ten yard pass. Yet it was tit for tat again as the Jaguars spent the rest of their 3rd Quarter possession moving the ball up from their own 24 yard line to the Colts’ 2 yard line where Montell Owens emerged from a ruck of players to rush in for a touchdown. Now leading 24-14 in the final quarter it seemed I might have brought a bit of luck to the Jaguars and they were set for an unlikely victory. However the last 15 minutes were a disaster, the Jaguars offense suddenly shambolic, while Peyton Manning for the Colts was inspired. The next two Colts drives produced a touchdown and field goal to tie the game, and the contest was over when Garrard threw an interception which was returned for another touchdown to give the Colts their first lead in the game 31-24. At this point I left, not in disgust, but because I had to get the last bus home. My return journey was once again edgy as I made my way at speed through Downtown Jacksonville and I was happy to make the safety of the bus five minutes before it departed. I later learned that Jacksonville got as far as the Colts’ 9 yard line with their final drive of the game, but Garrard was sacked on the last play as he sought a touchdown to take the game into overtime.

Jaguars snap

One of the benefits of the Channel 4 programme was watching only the higlights of the game without many of the interruptions, and there are quite a few. The stop-start nature of the game becomes frustrating and starts to grate, as players and fans alike await the next play while some commercial break is being run on TV. While the viewers get their commercial dose, those in the stadium watch farcical competitions such as “John from Orange Park” trying to throw a football through a hole in a shed to win a $2000 shopping spree at Winn-Dixie stores, or seven contestants seeing who has the lucky ticket in their price boxes to claim a year’s supply of Bubba Burgers. (And remember folks, Bubba Burgers are THE BEST burgers). The winner looked like he was already quite partial to a Bubba burger so was no doubt delighted with the prize.

The experience was a novelty for me, but I’m not sure I’d be in a hurry to repeat it. I think I’d rather spend less and watch the games on TV. I think the game was like America in microcosm - at times brash, over the top, highly commercialised, self-important, ritualised, repressed and directed. There seemed to be a lack of the natural passion of football (soccer) matches played in Britain where the crowd is a living organic beast on a wave of emotion in a blood and thunder atmosphere. The American crowd only raised the volume when the opposition were in possession, and burst into life to celebrate First Downs and Touchdowns. There were none of the crowds songs, or “mental” celebrations that follow the scoring of a goal in the game I love. What take place on the field can be exciting and full of tension, which is the draw of any sport, but for me it was interrupted too often and too sanitised. A stadium that size needs a few rowsing “Delilahs” ringing around it! ;-)

More Photos

Hawaiian Anniversary Memories

Published
by
Andrew
on 3 September, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
. 0 Comments

Today is my parents’ anniversary. Time flies and I cannot believe that it’s two years since they celebrated their 40th Wedding Anniversary away in Hawaii. It’s seems like yesterday. To mark the occasion I thought I’d reproduce a blog piece I put on MySpace a while ago.

My Mum always wanted to go to the Hawaiian islands so my parents felt it would be a wonderful place for our family to commemorate their special day. Although a bit dubious about going on holiday with my parents in my mid thirties, it was something that meant a lot to them, and an opportunity to visit one of the world’s most beautiful locations. I could not pass that chance over. So on 1st September 2006 we set out from Heathrow and via San Francisco arrived on the beautiful island of Maui. But while our time there was eventful due to a large bush fire raging away, it is the Big Island, and the second island we visited where I’d like to start my account…

The fifth day into our holiday, and the first full day on the Big Island, we headed north out of the capital Hilo climbing up the Hamakua Coast highway for few miles before detouring down the old road which has become the Pepe’ekeo Scenic Drive. This route winds its way slowly down towards the sea hugging the coastline before looping back to the main state highway. The pace of the road and the life of small colourful communities dotted along its way are slow as its curves, narrow nature, and adverse cambers bring your maximum speed down to around 20mph. Pepe'ekeo Scenic Drive viewBut you wouldn’t want to rush this. Amongst the green foliage and vivid flowers appear wooden houses with beat up cars parked in rutted driveways, and multi-coloured garments draped over verandas. Occasionally bare-footed youngsters appear from paths leading down to secluded bays, or from under the narrow bridges that cross streams carrying crystal clear mountain water to the sea.

We pulled in at the roadside parking for Onomea Bay, and made the short walk down a gentle path enclosed by trees and ferns, but still not entirely sheltered from the heat of the morning sun forging its way through gaps in the canopy above. To our right between the foliage during the descent were glimpses of the sea, hurrying in against dark volcanic rocks, forming picture postcard opportunities for any keen photographer. I could have whiled away a far longer time than we spent down in the bay watching the surf crash in on the black sand, but we had to press on for there was a lot more to see that day. Pepe'ekeo Scenic Drive - Onomea Bay

Back on the main road we travelled a few miles north before turning off into the small settlement of Akaka. A quaint row of wooden buildings, mainly local art galleries, was completed by a bakery just before the junction for Akaka Falls, our next destination. Before venturing up through the sugar cane plantations to the falls, we trooped into the bakery in search of something we could take with us for lunch. The choice of the finest sweetbreads and pastries was incredible, but I settled for a coconut turnover and a guava “bear paw”, a bread cake as sticky and sweet as it is delicious. The lady who owned the shop demonstrated the legendary friendliness, kindness and welcoming ways of the Hawaiian people. As we paid for the goodies she told us that if we were going to the falls to be careful of mosquitoes and use some repellent. She had some for sale in the shop for $8 so we asked for a bottle to be added to the bill. Hearing none of it, she produced her own bottle from her bag and let the three of us liberally spray ourselves for nothing! Kindness replaces Capitalism in Akaka! So if you are ever there visit the friendly Ed’s Bakery and stock up of wonderful food and pass some time with the lovely retired teacher who runs it. Now replete with supplies we walked back into the heat and pushed on for Akaka Falls.

The road climbs its way up to a couple of thousand feet before ending in a small mongoose-ridden car park where the path to the falls starts. (Sadly the mongooses’ arrival in Hawaii was an example of the stupidity of man – introduced by plantation owners to counter a rat problem, the mongoose merely tucked into native bird eggs by day and slept while the nocturnal rats ran amok unhindered.) We paused at the top of the steps to watch a Hawaiian craftsman create hats and bowls out of palm leaves and tell his tale of the art being passed down the generations. Having watched in fascination for several minutes, we headed off to find the falls. The narrow steps plunge you down into a thick tropical haven of bamboo thickets that soar skywards, vast bayan trees, ferns, creepers, and thick green mosses. Amidst this jungle you pass along the easy and winding path taking in the smells of the blossom and the chorus of the birds of paradise, though spotting these tiny colourful birds can be harder than you’d think. Sooner than you’d imagine you round a corner and arrive at a viewpoint looking upstream to Akaka itself. Akaka FallsThe water spills down a sheer drop of around 450 feet through a chasm of tropical vegetation to a steaming pool below. The sunlight played on the foaming spray and a small rainbow completed a truly incredible sight. We savoured the view by ourselves for a few minutes until we were joined by an equally awestruck Pole and his daughter. Learning we were English we conversed for a while about our holiday experiences so far, his Polish relatives in the UK, and the truly amazing Big Island.

Climbing back up to the car park was no chore, as the experience of being in such a perfumed, pure and fresh environment with constant birdsong, babbling waters, and the sun streaming through the treetops produced an idyllic atmosphere which made discomfort impossible. I was sorry to bid it farewell as I could have easily spent all day in there. But we had an hour’s drive back through Hilo and southwest to ascend to the Hawaii Volcanoes National Park by lunchtime if I was going to have my walk across a lava field! The journey by car saw us rise steadily out of Hilo, road markers giving the altitude every 500 feet, until we were about 4,000 feet, passing through the village of Volcano and nearing the park’s gates.

Established in 1916, the park encompasses diverse environments that range from sea level to the summit of the volcano, Mauna Loa at 13,677 feet. Kīlauea, a volcano almost continuously active since 1983, offers scientists insights on the birth of the Hawaiian Islands and visitors views of dramatic volcanic landscapes as lava flows spew into the sea. After wolfing down some lunch and a short tour of the visitor centre, we made our way around the 11 miles long Crater Rim Drive, a route that encircles the Kīlauea summit caldera, traverses the caldera floor, and provides scenic stops like the the Hawaiian Volcano Observatory, the Jaggar Museum, and the Thurston Lava Tube. The latter is a remarkable experience, a prehistoric lava tube old tall enough for you to walk through it. Taking in most of these attractions, we also peered down into the the Halema’uma’u Crater. The crater is about 3,000 feet across and nearly 300 feet deep but changed greatly during the 20th century. In 1924, it was only 1,500 feet in diameter but was filled by a lake of molten lava that bubbled and boiled at 2,100 degrees Fahrenheit. Another stunning encounter was driving past the 1982 lava flow that engulfed the road we were travelling on.

Back at the visitor centre my parents took a rest and went for a drink, while I set out on part of the Halema’uma’u Trail. It was a trail of stark contrast, one descends 400 feet through beautiful rain forest alive with colourful and raucous birdlife, eventually reaching the caldera floor, then crosses the rocky surface to the Halema’uma’u Crater. I had this walk to myself apart from one couple I saw on my return. If the rain forest was both impressive and relaxing, arriving at the clearing to join the caldera floor was simply breathtaking. Halemaumau Trail to Kilauea over caldera with fumesThe trail is across lava rock, the route marked by small piles of the rock as it zig zags its way for several miles to the crater. Cracks in the surface emit steam and gases, a sulphur smell hangs ever present in the air. But it’s not all desolation. Small clumps of vegetation litter the surface. It was incredibly hot out there despite the now overcast day, and somewhat eerie all alone, crunching across the surface like broken glass, and knowing that molten lava is only 2 miles beneath your feet and might fancy making your acquaintance. (To put it into context lava is usually around 50 miles beneath your feet). It was all a bit disconcerting the further I walked away from the “safety” of the forest. There was no way I’d make the crater and back in the time available so it was about turn and back to the climb through the ferns and trees pausing occasionally to attempt photographs of vivid birds as they flitted from branch to branch.

It really needs an overnight stay to do the Chain of Craters Road justice, the end of which becomes a trail over the rocky surface to the edge of the freshly flowing lava as it drops into the hissing and steaming sea. This is best seen at night for a really dramatic effect. As we were heading off to the island of Kauai the next day this adventure is left for another day in the future. However there were plenty of memories already from a quite unforgettable day. The whole holiday was an unforgettable experience, a wonderful way to mark the milestone of 40 years together, and it’s something my parents will remember for the rest of their days.

Full steam ahead

Published
by
Andrew
on 11 August, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
. 4 Comments

Forty years ago today Britain said goodbye to steam on its railways, or so it thought. Jubilee Class 5690 Leander at Ulverston 9th Aug 2008As part of the modernisation of the railway network in the 1960s, August 1968 was to mark the end of steam haulage and with it close the chapter on 139 years of history. When the rail network was nationalised in 1948 the newly formed British Railways inherited 20,102 steam locomotives. Phased withdrawal took place as locomotives got to the end of their natural working life and many were cut up at works that had once built them, but it is estimated that over 7,000 were liquidated in private scrapyards between 1958 and 1969. That equates to around two million tons of metal, most of which found its way to UK furnaces. However a large quantity was shipped to Japan possibly to later return as Nissan and Honda cars! The final locomotives to succumb to the cutter’s torch were three LMS “Black Fives” at Draper’s Yard in Hull. Apart from around 270 or so that survived into preservation, Dai Woodham’s Yard in Barry assisting the majority of escapees (213), the entire steam fleet of 16,000 locomotives had been eliminated in a little over ten years. The world of railways had not witnessed a cull like that before nor has it since. (*)

While steam was meant to die 40 years ago it is still going strong on heritage lines all over the country. Furthermore the privatisation of the network has allowed popular “steam special” charter trips over the mainlines. One group of enthusiasts have raised £2 million to build a LNER A1 locomotive from scratch. From the same stable as the famous Flying Scotsman A3 locomotive, and the A4 Mallard, no examples of the A1 Peppercorn class survived into preservation. LNER A4 Class 60007 Sir Nigel Gresley, Grosmont NYMR December 2007Very soon Tornado will roll out of the works and be seen on the mainlines, a tribute to the determination and hard work of a set of enthusiasts, and engineering skills that Britain thought it had long lost. So why does steam still enjoy great popularity and produce such sentimentality? Is it just nostalgia, or is there more to it than that? Surely in these days of global warming and climate change the burning of large quantities of fossil fuels is not something to be encouraged? One could argue there’s no place for sentimentality and when the final fires died down in August 1968 that should have marked the end of steam for good.

However I find myself in a muddle of contradictions. My environmentalist credentials come under close scrutiny when it comes to steam. I should tut, shake my head in disgust, point out the damage it does, toe the Friends of the Earth party line and be wholly opposed to it. But I’m not. I can’t help it, I admit it, I love steam. The smell, the sound, even the filth, bits of soot in my hair. While I accept that it is not desirable or practical to have maintained 16,000 locomotives in daily use, and I accept the withdrawal of steam traction was necessary, I am not going to wage war against 200 odd preserved examples especially when less than half will be in steam at any one point in time. Many are still in scrapyard condition awaiting the funds to restore them to working condition. 48173 - a forlorn but saved LMS Class 8F, Cheddleton February 2008Their contribution to CO2 emissions and global warming are not going to come anywhere close to the efforts of Britain’s millions of cars. Steam locomotives give a tangible link to the past, they are a living piece of history; in a time when we hardly manufacture anything in this country, they herald engineering feats we were once rightfully proud of. Steam locomotives help demonstrate tasks and duties now alien to us, highly labour intensive they once provided thousands of jobs. Unlike their replacements which could go at the press of a starter button, steam locomotives could take several hours to raise steam, and fires were keep going throughout the night to enable them to be ready for duty at any given time. Boilers need water, levels must be watched, steam pressure has to be kept in check, and fires must not be allowed to die. That’s a lot of care and attention. (Even the shed at Stoke had 90 steam locomotives in the early 1960s). No wonder they have been likened to living beasts with their own personalities. I once watched Union of South Africa (another LNER A4 class like the famous record breaking Mallard) being “put to bed” in sidings at York Railway Museum after a rail tour. The fireman was dropping the fire, essentially removing the still glowing embers of the firebox into a small skip on wheels. The locomotive sighed “haaarrrrh” rhythmically every few seconds, sounding like a very relaxed Darth Vader, giving the impression it was actually breathing.

Nostalgia plays a part in my story, and maybe a few genes! Both my father and grandfather worked on the railways. As a child we had no car and used the free passes British Rail staff received to travel by train to all our holiday destinations. There was no going abroad in those days. My earliest happiest memories include making sandcastles on the beach at Goodrington Sands in South Devon watching immaculate steam trains on the Paignton and Dartmouth heritage railway work hard along the embankment alongside the sands, climbing the steep bank to Churston. I was hooked and it started a lifetime of fascination with steam. Roll forward thirty years and by chance I recently became an active enthusiast myself. On one of my many stays in Coniston in the Lake District I learned of a small preserved railway in the grounds of a local house. I went to investigate and was stunned to find an extensive 7¼ inch gauge railway complete with working signals, signal boxes, and steam locomotives. It has been the life work of the owner, an elderly retired Major. So I donned my overalls and have since attended several maintenance and running days, becoming part of the small band of volunteers who give rides to locals in the know. I still pinch myself when I think I have learnt to raise steam, fire, and drive a real steam locomotive. It maybe a fraction of the size of its mainline counterparts, but all the principles and controls are the same. You cannot afford to take your eyes of it, the safety valves lift at 100 psi, and if the boiler runs dry there will be a large and devastating bang! “My” locomotive Holywath came to Coniston in January 1954, but had done twenty years service on Cleethorpes Pier before that. She’s a delicate old lass and needs treating with great care.

5690 Leander south of Ulverston 9th Aug 2008I was in Coniston this weekend for a maintenance day. The routine usually is a walk on Saturday, stay over at my favourite B&B, a 17th Century farmhouse, and then a day of graft on the railway turning my hand to whatever needs fixing. But this Saturday the weather was vile, heavy rain made walking unappealing, so I broke my journey at Carnforth hoping to visit “Steamtown” and see the exhibits in the old MPD (Motive Power Depot) or engine shed to you and me. Carnforth was one of the final three sheds housing the last 88 steam locomotives operating in August 1968, so a fitting place to visit on the anniversary. I’d been as a kid so felt the need to wallow in more nostalgia. Shame it was shut! Has been for ages, only opening for special gala events. However I did learn that a regular steam special from Carnforth to Ravenglass in the western Lake District was under way and if I hurried I might catch a glimpse of it. My timing was perfect, snapping Leander (a LMS Jubilee class) arriving at Ulverston station, and it waited there long enough for me to hurtle down some country lanes to find a good spot on a bridge for photographs. 154 Holywath under repair 10th August 2008154 HolywathMy duties this weekend included cleaning soot out of the tubes and smokeboxes, back-breaking stuff even at the smaller scale. We also made repairs to Holywath, so I had the added bonus of taking her up the line for a test run. Living proof that steam goes on, and still has many admirers forty years after its supposed demise.

(*) Figures from “A passion for steam” by Patrick Whitehouse & David St John Thomas

The Florida Road Trip in retrospect

Published
by
Andrew
on 7 July, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
. 1 Comment

Tonight I finally completed the piece on the last couple of days of my Florida visit including the walk along the Suwannee River. (”Drenched down the Suwannee”). It joins the retrospective postings about Days 3 and 4 of the Road Trip around Florida. They can also be found below. (Entitled “St Petersburg and a taste of Cuba” and “Is it a real one?”).

All the photos are up in the gallery now. Enjoy. Start of Road Trip photos

Escape from Newark

Published
by
Andrew
on 25 June, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
. 1 Comment

The American adventure is over for the time being. I got back to Leeds today a day late. Bad storms over the Washington and New York areas on Monday meant the Air Traffic Control was knocked out of kilter so my 5:10pm departure from Jacksonville actually left around 8:30pm. Apparently this is common over New York as the rather disinterested assistant at check-in told me, offering me “good luck” in getting my connection rather than reassurances. Needless to say I missed my connection by 10 minutes and was looking at a night in a New Jersey hotel. Continental tail and NY City skylineThe process of updating my ticket, getting a new boarding pass, and receiving hotel vouchers seemed smooth enough, but the transfer to the hotel wasn’t on two counts. Firstly it was about 30 minutes drive away and the use of two small shuttle buses meant waiting over an hour before it was my turn to be squeezed on. Secondly having crammed us four to a bench seat built for three the driver proceeded to weave his way between the traffic at speeds up to 90 mph as the bus swayed from side to side, particularly disconcerting when passing through a narrow coned single lane section of roadworks at double the 40 mph limit.

However the consolation was this experience brought strangers together unified by the inconvenience and resigned to international flights the following evening. The gallows humour at the shuttle waiting area and in the bus itself kept morale high, and fellow travellers swapped tales of travel woe and life stories. To be fair although many miles south of the airport and New York city, the hotel was wonderful, my room far exceeding the levels of luxury I’m accustomed to. After a reasonable night’s sleep the new band of delayed comrades once again greeted each other and the conversations helped the morning pass by quickly until it was time to catch the last shuttle bus to the airport at 1:30pm. The irony is that I choose a two hour connection this occasion to avoid the mind-numbing five hour wait I had last time at Newark which I think is an awful airport. Of course by missing my plane not only did I again have the five hour wait at the airport but a night in a hotel as well.

However it was not all bad. I must mention in dispatches Wayne the University of Florida Careers Director who was on his way to various meetings in Ireland, Brian the plumber returning to Dublin after some while in Boston, and the unnamed “soccer enthusiast” who was on his way to Madrid to meet up with his son. Without the amusing, interesting and friendly conversation of these three fellow delayed travellers the day would have dragged by. Thank you all for your company, and to all those other travellers who passed the time of day with a few friendly words. Indeed being around a similar age Brian and I got something to eat, shared a couple of beers, and talked our way around Newark Airport such that the five hours passed very quickly. It reaffirms the belief in human decency and warmth when in mild adversity brief acquaintances are formed and one can share and learn from others’ life stories. It will be something I always remember and from an inconvenience came a positive enhancing experience.

That said I was glad to be away from Newark and its dodgy internet connections with mouse pads that go up for down and left for right and finally on my plane. Continental had made all of the arrangements go very smoothly but somehow failed to transfer my special meal request to the new flight. Departing Newark - NY viewHowever I am indebted to the Flight Attendant who went out of his way to rustle something up for me, raiding Business Class for a vegetarian meal. I have to say the spinach and ricotta cheese pasta parcels in a tomato and eggplant sauce was done to a turn, quite excellent, easily of restaurant quality and one of the best meals I’d had on my holiday in America. I suppose it should be for the price of those sorts of ticket. I have no real complaints about Continental, just the hub they choose for their connections.

Once in the grey UK I was not glad to be back. I missed the first available train by a few seconds, arriving as the doors were closing and in the typical service orientated culture of modern Britain the guard (or is it Train Services Manager these days?!) hanging out from his window said “Yer’ve missed it mate, it’s off” as I tried desperately to prod the button to encourage the doors’ parting. Finally on a train the bleak day did little to enhance the passing countryside and only helped remind me of what I’ve left behind. Where I'd like to beNot only the warm weather, sunshine and beaches, but the special person I’d shared two weeks with and who I’d like to spend a lot longer with. It doesn’t really feel right to be here. I know too how much Tina will be hurting that I have gone and she has no definite date for my return. I will try to make it as soon as possible whatever the obstacles. Not wanting to mope about the house I actually went to work this afternoon even though I told my boss I wouldn’t be in because of the delay. It didn’t make me feel much better either. I didn’t feel tired and I reckoned it best to continue to stay awake as long as I could, hopefully getting some decent sleep tonight.

My good friend and fellow Stoke fan Dave (GoatMajor on the Stoke fanzine message board) called around the house tonight. Putting everything into perspective is his recent loss of his mother to cancer. Dave’s mum was a lovely woman, the typical genial generous hostess found in North Staffordshire, always happy to welcome you into their home and lay on a good “spread” of food. She always put family above herself. Dave has been living in Sweden and I have stored some of his things for him including the suit he needed for the funeral tomorrow. To cheer ourselves up we dined on North Staffordshire Oatcakes with cheese, beans and veggie sausages while watching the Germany v Turkey Euro 2008 Semi-Final. (What a great game but those jammy Germans drive me mad, oh the injustice!) I think the silly Stokie humour, larking about and watching the football helped lightened Dave’s load and I was glad to see him too. I hope he had a safe trip back to Silverdale and things go as well as can be hoped for tomorrow. My thoughts will be with him and the family. On that sombre note I will turn in for the night because the need for sleep is finally catching up with me.

Back in Jax

Published
by
Andrew
on 20 June, 2008
in Travel
. 0 Comments

Back safe in Jax after a great day in Tampa yesterday and one on Merrit Island today. Sadly last night’s motel had no internet pc so I could not update the blog. I’m rushing out tonight I think so no update until tomorrow. Got loads of photos to edit too… See y’all.

Is it a real one?

Published
by
Andrew
on 20 June, 2008
in Life stories, Travel and Walking
. 0 Comments

Day Four of the Road Trip started with an early breakfast in the Super 8 motel dining area, and the unusual sight (well for me anyway) of an elderly couple saying grace before tucking in. Without wishing to belittle something which obviously means a lot to them I can’t ever recall the same scene in Britain, especially over a bowl of multi-coloured Cheerios. It was a veritable league of nations in the dining room as French, Dutch, and Asian parties out-numbered the American contingent.

Once on the road it didn’t take long to get to our destination of Merritt Island, 140,000 acres of land that strikes an odd balance between being home to NASA’s Kennedy Space Center, and a huge wildlife refuge that receives thousands of migrating birds every year. Miles away in the distance one can see the huge NASA Vehicle Assembly Building where the space shuttle is attached to its booster rockets and fuel cell. It is said that the NASA logo on the side of the building is the size of a baseball pitch. But we were there for walking today. Merritt Island baby gatorIt was already getting hot as we arrived at the refuge visitor centre to collect maps and good advice. The centre had a short boardwalk trail behind it and being given a tip off by the warden we wandered round to spot the first two alligators of the day. While the gators watched on silently with beady eyes out off the water, the predominant sound was the pig frogs grunting loudly and living up to the name. A solitary turtle completed a decent start on the wildlife front.

A couple of miles up the road were two short trails and we decided to tramp around the shortest and save our energy for the 5 miles Cruickshank Trail later on. It is easy to become blasé about yet another patch of forest and ferns, and while having its own quiet beauty the trail produced no wildlife or surprises of note apart from a sudden clearing where the path crossed a railway line that arrowed away into the shimmering distance. Warm up walk completed it was time to wind our way around the 7 miles long Black Point Wildlife Scenic Drive at a stately 15 mph, eyes peeled for any gators, but mainly stopping to photograph the birds that hadn’t migrated in March. About half way around the scenic drive is the Cruickshank Trail named after Allan D. Cruickshank who was a famous wildlife photographer, writer, and naturalist instrumental in the establishment of Merritt Island National Wildlife Refuge. Merritt Island Cruickshank Trail viewEven though the temperatures were now baking around midday we strode out, stopping only once in a shady wooden shelter for a rest , an apple each, and plenty of water.

Although we saw plenty of birdlife, the best time to visit is between October and March when thousands more birds live at Merritt before migration. The alligators were in hiding too, but it didn’t detract from a walk we had to ourselves in an amazing landscape. In fact ironically having completed the 5 miles the largest and most impressive alligator seen up to press was actually in the marshy area next to the car park. Memorable enough in its own right, the creature will live long in my mind due to the conversation it provoked between a young couple and ourselves. Arriving back at the car park I noticed the young woman peering over a viewing deck and dryly commented to Tina that she didn’t appear to be dressed for walking. In fact she looked like she was off to “The Prom” as I believe it is known over here. Is it a real one?!Her short black dress and high heels were perhaps not ideal for the Cruickshank Trail, and the decision to clamber back into her boyfriend’s monster truck some 6 feet off the ground was probably best after she demonstrated a frightening lack of what might be termed ‘alligator awareness’. “Is it a real one?”, she cooed at me as we watched the gator watching us. I was a little taken a back by this and fortunately the gator answered her question for me by readjusting its position in the reeds. “Oh it is real then”, she exclaimed in surprise, adding “So why isn’t it coming up here to eat us?”. Still incredulous, I opined that alligators are naturally afraid of humans but if she cared to get a bit closer to invade its territory I was sure it would make a decent attempt at giving chase. The gator having enough of this conversation disappeared into the reeds, and somewhat bemused we headed back to the car.

Next stop was the manatee observation point for a late picnic lunch and a patient wait for the gentle mammals to appear. Initially there on our own what actually appeared was a crowd of noisy tourists including a woman who seemed determined to give her husband a running commentary of manatee movements even though it was in fact he who spotted the first to break through the water. Butties put down and cameras grabbed, we scrambled up and had five minutes while the manatee teased us with brief glimpses before it headed off no doubt to better feeding grounds. We headed off too, detouring along Bio Lab Road, a rough sandy affair that the warden had told us was “lined with gator all along it”. Despite keeping to the 15 mph speed limit (impossible to do more unless you had 4WD) we saw a grand total of zero gators and paranoia began to set in as the road never seemed to end and the Kennedy Space Center was looming in the near distance. Thankfully we did hit the main road again and had to contend with Kennedy workers putting their foot down as they made for home at the end of their shift.

The first part of the Road Trip was complete as we headed back to Jacksonville for the night and a hastily arranged evening out with a guy called Jim who has been very kind and helpful giving me advice via email about American working life as he has worked in Britain in the past and knows the extent of the potential culture shock. Tina stayed in for some quality time with her youngest son, while I went out for some quality lad time. Over a few beers Jim provided more advice, amusement, and demonstrated the friendly nature of all the Americans I have met so far. We found an initially quiet spot outside a bar popular with the younger set, but soon we were invaded by a group of youngsters celebrating a 19th birthday, including a very drunk off duty Navy sailor who was barely capable of standing up and gave a not so articulate play by play account of the recent Boston Celtics unlikely victory against the LA Lakers. He obviously wasn’t banging on the table hard enough to get his point across because I thought he was describing a baseball game, where in fact, Jim informed me, the Celtics play basketball. The Drunken Sailor did bang the table hard enough to spill his own drink and much of ours. His shipmate, a more sober youth, ushered him away and let on they were off to Scotland with their vessel the following day, not the sort of journey I’d fancy with a hangover that’s for sure.

St Petersburg and a taste of Cuba

Published
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Andrew
on 19 June, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
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Day Three might have gone either way really but by the end I think it turned out well. St Petersburg skylineMy vague plan had been to check out any attractions we deemed interesting in downtown Tampa, although unusually I hadn’t really done much research prior to arrival apart from a cursory perusal of the Rough Guide before bedtime. So after breakfast the hotel internet connection was put to good use looking up what might be worth seeing. We settled on a trip to St Petersburg (named by a homesick Russian apparently) not because it enjoys on average 361 days of sunshine a year, but it has a pier to wander along and some sunken gardens with plenty of photo opportunities. The plan was to look over the bay from the pier and get a view of the Tampa skyline but the way the day started I think we were there on one of the “sunless four”. Maybe the grey weather was a factor, but somehow on the drive from Tampa to St Petersburg we got on to the morbid subject of funerals and how they differ in the UK and the USA. For the record my chosen funeral tunes were…

Wheeled in: “In my life” - The Beatles
During service: “There is a light that never goes out” - The Smiths
Closing of curtain: “It will never be over for me” - Timi Yuro
Congregation departs: “Imagine” - John Lennon
If I’m being greedy ;-) I’d like to sneak in the “Intermezzo” from Cavalleria Rusticana (an opera by Pietro Mascagni), and if I had to have a hymn then I’d go for “The Day Thou Gavest Lord Is Ended”.

Anyway on to brighter things… For the Americans the short traipse along the pier at St Petersburg is too far to walk so for $3 you can park your car and take a trolley to the entrance. Tina and I being being more frugal and energetic parked for free a quarter of a mile away and walked it. It was actually a bit grim to enjoy the skyline of Tampa especially as it is 10 miles away, but we saw a couple of pelicans perched on the pier, and we made quick work of the “attractions” inside apart from a magnificent music and movie memorabilia shop in which I could have easily spent a lot of money. Having ticked the pier off the list we ventured forth to find the Sunken Gardens made more attractive by a two adults for the price of one coupon (thank you hotel receptionist!). Thrift and prudence Gordon Brown would be proud of.

The journey to the garden looked straightfoward, drive straight off the pier for four blocks and turn right up 4th Street for a mile. Hmm shame it was a one way street. So taking the next right and running parallel soon we worryingly disappeared into the suburbs and local neighbourhoods of beautiful old wooden houses, brightly painted in pastel colours. The American system of organising everything on a grid basis made it easy to get back on track and find the gardens apart from one incident with an irrate Mercedes driver who clearly felt I hadn’t pulled in enough to give way to her as she hurtled towards me. Well madam if by slim chance you are reading let me offer this advice… next time you start waving your hands about in pantomine fury at a fellow motorist, consider the following: First get a smaller vehicle that you might be able to drive without needing a bus width to pass others, secondly don’t drive while holding your mobile phone to your ear, and finally DON’T DRIVE THE WRONG WAY DOWN A ONE WAY STREET!

Thankfully not only were the gardens beautiful, they gave the chance to relax after the near miss, and as suspected offered lots of photo opportunities as you can see in the gallery. St Petersburg Sunken Garden DragonflyBy this point the sun had come out too and it was very hot. For lunch a quick drive down to the waterfront found us at a park under a shady tree having a picnic looking out at the pier we’d wandered along earlier. The drive back to the motorway to Tampa meandered along the shoreline for a while passing some beautiful homes with garden placards proclaiming “No to the waterfront stadium”. Bearing left and heading away from the waterfront, placards appeared in gardens demanding “Lets build the stadium now”!

Back in Tampa we bypassed the downtown area and continued the short distance to Ybor City, founded in 1886 by cigar magnate Don Vincente Martinez Ybor, and settled mainly by Cuban immigrants. Ybor City restaurantParked up in a “parking garage” or multi-storey car park for $1 per 3 hours (take note NCP), we strolled down the main street which retains much of its Cuban character and architecture. There were ornate metal railings on balconies, palm trees growing at the street corners, and many of the Cuban coffee houses also produced hand rolled cigars. The large cigar factory that once employed the vast majority of the city’s inhabitants is now a series of trendy shops and bars. The whole area is undergoing a revival and is the place to be seen at night by all accounts. Second of course to staying in with a microwaved meal. We settled for a late afternoon coffee before the two hour journey to Titusville on the East coast.

The sky turned black on the way and passing Orlando the rain came down heavily as we hurried past the exits for the theme parks and Disneyland “attractions”. Caution Snakes - You won't see that at Keele Services!Another toll road had us in Titusville fairly rapidly and it brightened up for our arrival. The trip over was unremarkable accept for a sign I saw as we stopped for a comfort break in some services between Tampa and Orlando. (See left). It didn’t encourage me to hang around for long that’s for sure, and it’s not something you’d expect to see on the M6! Apparently there are two snakes over here with yellow, red and black rings that look very similar (the Scarlet Kingsnake and North American Coral snake) but have different consequences (basically a bit of a nip or rapid death). If you are ever faced by one of these hissing horrors remember the following rhyme… “Red on black you’re alright Jack, red on yellow you’re a dead fellow”. Nice. Anyway, once again our accommodation for the night in Titusville was decent, but minus a computer in the lobby, and praise be there was no microwave in the room. Therefore I was spared another zapped veggieburger and in fact we treated ourselves to an excellent Mexican meal in the Rodeo Restaurant which shared the Super 8 motel’s complex.

The Tampa Bay Burgereaters

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Andrew
on 18 June, 2008
in Travel and Walking
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Day Two of the Road Trip started with thunderstorms, and waffles for breakfast. When it rains here it really rains. America doesn’t seem to do drizzle. It was bouncing of the roof with a rapid drumming sound, but happily it stopped before we started our planned walks, giving us a hot sunny day for our wanderings.

First stop was the Crystal River State Park and a 2 mile trail that started at Mullet Pool, a spot for fishing not east European haircut disasters. Many signs warned of alligators operating in the area but they were not to be seen on our route, although I did photograph a number of birds at close range. Incidently I’m sat at a motel pc as we didn’t bring along Tina’s laptop so I can’t edit and upload any photos until back in Jacksonville I’m afraid. After completing the pleasant and scenic walk we headed north to Curtis Tool Lane (honest) and the Crystal River Eco-Trail another 2 mile trail but this time through a varied environment of different ecosystems.

Before we set off we called in a the ranger hut to use the “restroom” and were made welcome by Gary, a magnificently bearded archaeologist with Welsh ancestry who was a friendly font of all knowledge about the surrounding areas of natural beauty and surprisingly the porcelain wares of North Staffordshire. By all accounts it was the tableware of choice of the middle classes around the time of the American Civil War. He used to dig pieces up. We could have talked most of the day but there was a walk to do so we bid farewell and set off round the loop trail. It was a stunning route and we saw birdlife, butterflies, huge grasshoppers, and a had a brief glimpse of deer running across our path. At the end as we ate lunch a woodpecker hammered away at a nearby tree. Best of all though was we had all this to ourselves.

Heading 8 miles south to Homosassa Springs Wildlife Refuge we arrived in time to catch the last manatee programme of the day, in other words a brief talk on the manatee by a ranger who spent most of the time in the water feeding carrots to these incredible creatures. The springs were simply stunning, crystal clear waters allowed some fine photos of the manatee. “The girls” as the ranger called the manatee then headed off to a special pool to receive their big meal of the day, three crates of lettuce and one crate of cabbage. We wandered around the rest of the springs complex which is home to a hippo, black bears, alligators, bald eagles, and countless other birds. Endangered species they may be, well looked after too by State Park Rangers, but there is an uncomfortable feeling about seeing animals in enclosures rather than their native habitat. To be honest I hadn’t realised this was the format of the park, reading it had a 1 mile trail with places to observe manatee.

Our journey to Tampa was largely uneventful other than using a toll road that cost $1, or so I thought. Arrriving at the first toll plaza I scoffed at the paltry sum which Tina insisted would be all we had to pay to use the road. Five toll plazas and $4.75 later we were at Tampa, but it was a cheap price to pay for a 70mph road with very little traffic on it. In keeping with recent times the arrival was later than expected despite finding the hotel first time, so instead of the intended decent meal out we scuttled over to the Publix supermarket to see what culinary delights we might purchase there. So tonight I sat down to veggieburger done to a turn by microwave, and some sort of spinach and feta pastry creation that claimed it could be microwaved, but clearly would have been best in an oven. Alas there were 4 burgers in the packet so I seem to be in for a second helping tomorrow night. At least before then I have a day in downtown Tampa to look forward to.

Follow that dream

Published
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Andrew
on 17 June, 2008
in Life stories and Travel
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Day One of the Road Trip and it goes to show meticulous planning doesn’t always bring results. All seemed well this morning as bags were packed, Google maps were printed off and the rental car (a Ford Focus for the record) was successfully collected from the Enterprise manager who was rushing around like the proverbial, and sweating bricks as a result. Even a brief thunderstorm and soaking didn’t dampen spirits as the sun came out again before we were due to set off following Tina’s return from work.

Yet somehow the intended departure of around 2pm somehow drifted to way past 3pm. Then getting out of Jacksonville proved more involved than expected. Eventually we did reach the University city of Gainesville, our intended rest stop, although finding Lake Alice added to the time delay thanks to me trying to drive, read a map, and negotiate large junctions simultaneously. However the exercise was ultimately in vain as there was nowhere to park to view the lake. Well not strictly true, there were places to park if you had a special permit. Obviously you can’t visit “on spec”. Indeed closer inspection of the Rough Guide revealed the need to park 2 miles away downtown and walk. So what brief glimpses we saw of the lake seemed very pleasant as we repeatedly trundled past at 20 mph, but we could not get on the observation points to look for alligators. The closest we got was seeing the Ben Hill Griffin Stadium, home of the University of Florida Gators football team.

When you reach a junction and it says US19 to the left and that’s the road you want you expect to turn left so I did. Ah but not over here. No I should have proceeded a hundred yards or so further straight on and then turned left. Silly me. So a pretty, yet deserted detour through some decidedly hick settlements where the Confederate cause apparently still burns strong, eventually led us to the desired US19 South, a desperately needed toilet stop, and the town of Inglis. But it was worth the detour to spot the streetname of Follow that dream Parkway. Frightening but true.

Thankfully Crystal River wasn’t that far down the road after that and we were soon in our room at the Comfort Inn some while after my intended arrival time. I clearly still have a lot to learn from the Owd Mon. He’d have been there enjoying his marmalade butties long before then. We in fact dined in style on microwaved veggie curry purchased from a supermarket in the town, watching the Larry King Show on CNN where a lively debate about McCain v Obama was taking place. But the highlight of a day that did not go to plan was a moonlight swim in the motel pool, under the stars listening to the crickets’ and frogs’ night chorus. That’s living the dream never mind following it.