The rising cost of fool

Whilst we were in California we were always happy to spend our dollars on fuel as it seemed such a bargain compared with what we pay at home.
A tank full never cost us more than $50 whereas we pay through the nose for our fool over here.
I'd better explain the discrepancy in my spelling before we go too far and that might help you understand the title of todays blog.
We (that's Val, me and half the Smiffs) were born in a village called Burwell which is in an area of England called East Anglia that is quite rural and has a very distinctive dialect. (I get very annoyed when an actor is attempting to play an East Anglian person and just uses a generic country accent. The 3 counties of East Anglia, Suffolk, Norfolk and our own Cambridgeshire have a quite distinctive accent and in fact each county has a slightly different dialect).
One of the characteristics of the dialect is a tendancy to blur vowels with a mellow 'oo' sound. (Particularly soo in Norfolk).
Hence fuel comes out somewhat like fool and my own particular bete noir, Newmarket sounds more like Noomarkut. (I have lived away from there for over 40 years and it still the old oohs slip out).
Anyway, back to the fool.
The other day I went to the filling station for more of the stuff for only my second visit since we returned. I stuck the nozzle into the tank and started pumping. I got 22 litres in before I suddenly came back to (English) earth with a bump realising that I had just poured in unleaded petrol instead of the diesel that my car has a preference for. Oops!
I went in to the checkout and told them of my plight and said that I was going to carry on filling with diesel, working on the theory that I would dilute the fool to a 2:1 ratio of diesel to gasoline.
"You can't do that" cried the guy behind me. "It'll ruin your engine". He then identified himself as a Honda mechanic, so I took his word for it.
I called out my breakdown service and they duly arrived and took me to a local garage whose mechanics pumped out the gas, replaced it with 3 gallons of diesel and charged me £105 for the pleasure. They kept the 5 gallon mix of gas/diesel that they had removed, no doubt to separate and use later.
I then went back to the filling station and topped up with diesel.
The first abortive top up had cost £25 and my second visit cost me £39.
In all a costly mistake at £169 0r $340.
Now you can probably understand today's title more readily.

As a postscript, I was topping up as we were off to do a bit of dog-sitting for my son whilst they were up in East Anglia making final arrangements to move to our home village.
When I told him about my idiocy/misfortune he said that it was a fallacy and that he had seen a recent TV program where they had quite successfully run a diesel car on gasoline and vise versa. Was I miffed, as that had been my original intention.

BTW It appears that I am now part of an official national statisitic. Apparently I can share my idiocy with 399 other souls who make the same mistake daily.
My excuse is that I had gaily pumped gasoline in California for the preceding 9 weeks and just forgot where I was for the moment.
I've no idea what excuse the other 399 idiots use when they do it every day. You'd think they'd learn a lesson.

A sign of things to come

You say potato and we say potato
You say tomato and we say tomato
Fred Astaire & Ginger Rogers 1937

Well, jet-lag still has me in it's grip as far as sleep patterns go.
I'm feeling OK but for the last two mornings, I have woken at 4:15am. Yesterday I was determined to defeat it so I finally managed to get back to sleep by about 7:30 and then slept through 'til 11:30!!
This morning I've decided to get up instead and have a try at the blog.
I've had my coffee and toast, loaded with Trader Joe's Ginger Spread (thanks Loretta) and I'm ready to go.

It is said that our two countries are divided by a common language and we certainly have come across many instances of this when we have been over there.
One thing is certain in my mind however and that's how the Americans have made so much better use of our words than we do.
It's little phrases that are used in books, general conversation and on the TV that I love best.
I remember reading in a book, a description of someone who was not entirely gifted in the brain department. It was said that 'He couldn't pour pee out of a boot if the instructions were written on the sole'. We would say something like, 'His lift doesn't go to the top floor' which is very weak in comparison and, at a guess, also originated in the States.
I was watching baseball on TV when the pitcher threw a slider that defied the laws of ballistics and gravity. The commentator said, 'Boy, he really pulled the string on that one' which was about the only way you could explain just how he got the ball to suddenly slow and dip sideways in mid-flight. About the best we'd get from a cricket commentator in the same situation would be, 'Oh Gosh. Did you see that'.

The main point of today's blog is to show you some of the signs and buildings that we saw which made clever use of words to describe products and services that we have seen.
After seeing several instances over the first few weeks, I decided that they would make a good page but unfortunately, I hadn't taken photos of them. I tried to take pictures after that (or got Harvey to do it) and these are the result.

On many cars, it is common to see little stick figures denoting the size of the family.
Two large ones, two, three or more small ones and sometimes an animal or two.
We saw this very poignant one in San Juan Capistrano
Many people make charitable donations and have buildings or even streets named after them.
We saw this one at the Arts museum in Palm Springs which tickled our sense of humour. I mean, just how desperate are you to achieve immortality?
This one we saw everywhere. Can you guess what it's for. It's obvious when you know.
I loved this gravestone. It says far more about the gun than the man.

For the rest of them, I'll just let you have a look and enjoy what you will. Some of them are here just because I liked the look of them rather than for what they said.Outside a used book store


This really was a working vehicle

I liked this row of signs in Julien for their symmetry

This one covered the whole of the side wall of the diner. (It was better than the food!)

I've got two more to upload when I get chance. One is from our first trip to St Louis many years ago and the second was seen in the window of a gay men's dress shop on Santa Monica Blvd.
Later.

Home

Can't even think of a song today, my brain's refusing to function

I haven't forgotten you lot, just too tired to do anything about the blog.
We had an uneventful trip home which actually went very smoothly.
Tail winds got us to London about an hour quicker than scheduled but 20 minutes in the 'loop' over Heathrow slowed things down.
Easy passage through baggage reclaim and immigration and we were on our way, finally arriving home at 4:30pm UK time; 14 hours after take off.
I'm trying to get my mind and body, back into UK time but jet-lag keeps kicking in.
I'll continue with the blog when I raise sufficient energy.

Robs Obs 6

We don't need no education.
We don't need no thought control.
No dark sarcasm in the classroom.
Teacher, leave those kids alone.
Pink Floyd 1979


I got this from a friend who thought that it should be taught as part of the National Curriculum for schools everywhere.
I couldn't agree more

Rule 1: Life is not fair - get used to it!

Rule 2: The world won't care about your self-esteem. The world will expect you to accomplish something BEFORE you feel good about yourself.

Rule 3: You will NOT make £40,000 a year right out of high school. You won't be a vice-president with a car phone until you earn both.

Rule 4: If you think your teacher is tough, wait till you get a boss.

Rule 5: Flipping burgers is not beneath your dignity. Your Grandparents had a different word for burger flipping: they called it opportunity.

Rule 6: If you mess up, it's not your parents' fault, so don't whine about your mistakes, learn from them.

Rule 7: Before you were born, your parents weren't as boring as they are now. They got that way from paying your bills, cleaning your clothes and listening to you talk about how cool you thought you were. So before you save the rain forest from the parasites of your parent's generation, try delousing the wardrobe in your own room.

Rule 8: Your school may have done away with winners and losers, but life HAS NOT. In some schools, they have abolished failing grades and they'll give you as MANY TIMES as you want to get the right answer. This doesn't bear the slightest resemblance to ANYTHING in real life.

Rule 9: Life is not divided into school terms. You don't get summers off and very few employers are interested in helping you FIND YOURSELF. Do that on your own time.

Rule 10: Television is NOT real life. In real life people actually have to leave the coffee shop and go to jobs.

Rule 11: Be nice to nerds. Chances are you'll end up working for one.

Navigators needed

Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Frank Sinatra 1968 & 1977 & 1986 & 1995 ad nauseum.

We fly home tomorrow at the end of a great trip.
However, before we go I have one last, important task for you.
I want to be sure that we get back safely and for that, I need someone who knows where they're going.
Please take the test and post your results on the comments below .
Don't complete the email address box at the end of the test. Take note of your score, return to this page and click on 'Comments' at the bottom.
Enter your score there.

Navigation Test

Please have as many tries as you like but only post the score for your very first attempt.
Top score gets the job.

We're relying on you.

P.S. Even if you read this after we've gone and realise that you're too late to qualify, post your score anyway for a laugh.

Keep on Truckin'

Jimmy Mack, Jimmy,
Ooh Jimmy Mack,
When are you comin’ back
Martha Reeves & The Vandellas 1967

Some years ago I was at a pub quiz when a roll-over question came up for a lot of money.
"I am next to Pete, Jimmy & Ken in America. What are they?" (or something like that).
I knew the answer but unfortunately, Iwasn't the person who was being quizzed.
Afterwards I spoke to the quizmaster and told him the answer which amazed him.
He had been using that same question for years around the country and nobody had ever guessed right. I didn't give the game away but never got the chance to attend any of his quizzes again to try for myself at the big money.
The reason I knew the answer was that I was passionate about the subject.

When I first visited the States in 1989 we stopped for coffee at a truck stop in rural Illinois, right amongst all these wonderful, immensely powerful vehicles. I was entranced.
They all seemed to have so much character and it was definitely not female.
They were unconditionally macho vehicles, not a smooth curve in sight.
In those days you could see two distinct types

1. The flat fronted COE (Cab Over Engine) which looked like a pug
2. The Conventional which had a long nose and which were the ones I loved best.

The 5 main makes were

1. Kenworth
2. Peterbilt
3. White - now called Freightliner
4. International and
5. Mack.

I was hoping to take some truck pictures this time, as I'd always had this page in mind for the blog but I haven't had a chance at the right time. Apart from that, since Volvo came on the scene, all the rest have also softened their lines, probably to make them more aerodynamic and in my view, have lost the character that I loved. I haven't seen a COE at all on the road over the last two years so I guess they've all been consigned to the museums. Anyway, as I was determined to blog this subject, here's a few photos that I have 'plagiarised' from elsewhere.

This is a White Freightliner COE

Here's a Jimmy

This ones a Pete

And finally, a Ken

I guess you have all by now, got the answer to the quiz.

I know that pictures of trucks is not everyones cup of tea but thank you for indulging me.

Over hill & dale.

She is watching the detectives.
"ooh, he's so cute!"
She is watching the detectives
when they shoot, shoot, shoot, shoot.
Elvis Costello 1977

Val & I are great fans of American crime authors.
Two of our favourites are Michael Connelly and Robert Crais whose main characters are respectively, Harry Bosch, a policeman & Elvis Cole, a private detective. Both are based in LA and graphically describe the areas that they are working in and travelling through.
Over the last week we have been travelling through those same areas and it's great to put a picture to a place. In reverse, when we read one of their books, we often think 'been there' when one of them speaks about a particular area.
Quite often they travel through the canyon roads of the Santa Monica mountains and if I recall correctly, one or both of them live there and that's where we have been doing our own investigating.
A couple of days ago we came through Beverly Hills and had a tour of the wonderful houses in the roads on either side of Rodeo Drive. These beautifully laid out and maintained road are bordered on either side by mansions of unbelievable luxury and all of them individually designed. Not many modern monstrosities I'm glad to say. Prince Charles would approve I think.
Once we had had our fill of oohs and ahs we carried on up one road and found ourselves on Coldwater Canyon, winding a tortuous route up the southern side of the Santa Monica Mountains only to repeat the process, nose down, on the northern side.
Houses literally cling to the side of the slopes, defying gravity in many cases and their owners must live in fear, every time there is a tremor which are apparently regular but which we have yet to witness. Most of them jut straight out over a sheer drop supported on a trellis of supports. The ground beneath them drops away at an alarming angle, usually over 70 degrees. I'll add some of Harvey's pictures when I get a chance to download them but they are few as it's difficult to find anywhere to stop on the narrow winding roads.

Today we went down to Westwood village
which was very 30's and pretty and then on to the Pacific Highway as far as Malibu.
The houses that cling to the hills facing the sea look to be in a parlous state even without the tremors as the land is slipping at an alarming rate in some placesand all sorts of desperate measures are being taken to stop their houses sliding down with the side of the hill.
We came back this time over the Topanga Canyon road which is less densely populated but just as interesting. The roads were just as steep and winding but more rugged and we could just as easily have been in the middle of Yosemite as in the heart of LA (well, in the liver anyway).
We were surprised to find a town at the top which is Topanga and it was quite an odd-ball, hippy type of place.
On our way down the north side we stopped at the Topanga State Park which has a wonderful view out over the cities of the San Fernando Valley that form the north eastern suburbs of LA.
Unfortunately, without a large format camera, it is impossible to take any photos that could recreate for you the views as we saw them. Here's the best I could manageIf you want to see more photos of the SF Valley, try here.

This is just another facet of LA that makes it such a great base to work in and from. It can be tacky, as in Venice Beach, it can be dangerous, as in Watts but it is always interesting if you take the time and effort to look which is what the Smiffs have taught us to do.

That's it. We've followed our heroes paths and tried to describe them to you as best we can so in return, there's something you can do for us.
When we were here last year, Val found a new author for me called Robert K Tannenbaum. I got engrossed in his stories and tried to find more of his books when I got home.
Nothing. Zip. Nada. It's as if he doesn't exist in the UK.
I'd like to get Val started on his books but he's one of those authors who often refers back to previous books thus I thought it best to get all his books so she can start at the beginning and read them sequentially.
With me so far? Good.
We have trawled every Thrift, Goodwill and Salvation Army shop in California as well as second hand book stores, to find his books.
The Smiffs have enthusiastically joined in the hunt. Well latterly anyway. I think they thought we were mad for a start but now the shout of 'GOODWILL' normally emanates from one of them when one is spotted.
Our problem is, that with 4 days left, we are still short of one book and that's the 3rd book in the series.
So, if you're in the States, please visit your local Thrift, Goodwill and SA shops to look for 'Immoral Certainty'. The Smiffs will gladly reimburse you for your troubles (they don't know this so break it to them gently) and they will bring it home with them.
PLEASE don't use this as an excuse to fire off an order to Amazon. I know how embarrassingly generous you buggers can be.
If you're at home, please look in your local charity shops or car boot sales. You'll probably have no more luck than us BUT you may come across someone who has brought one home to read.
Give me a call.
PLEASE!!

LA Travel

I've been everywhere, man
I've been everywhere, man
Crossed the deserts bare, man
I've breathed the mountain air, man
Of travel I've had my share, man
I've been everywhere

Hank Snow 1962

We left the car at home and had a day out on the LA Metro system on Monday.
We caught the bus from outside the hotel in Santa Monica and headed for Downtown.
The journey takes about 80 minutes and runs through a complete gamut of social strata from the beautiful villas in Beverely Hills to the rundown streets of West Hollywood.
It was a fascinating glimpse at life in a microcosm
Unlike our transport system at home, the buses are clean, fairly comfortable and reliable.
We got to Union Station which is quite grand and well restored.
One complete area had been taken over by a film crew for their location caterers to provide meals. Judging by the size of the area, it's gonna have a lot of actors/extras involved.
The title of the film is Eagle Eye and one of the stars is Billy Bob Thornton.
Once we had found the Restrooms we got on a Gold Line train and went to Pasadena (just beyond actually).
Again it was an interesting trip through folks back yards and we saw different aspects of the city that we would have missed in the car. (especially me, the driver, as the passengers tend to get upset if I take my eyes from the road for more than a few seconds!).
When we got to the terminus, a bitter wind had got up and it was decided that exploring was out of the question so we got back in the same train and went back to Union Station.
As I might have mentioned before, our lunches usually consist of a picnic in Starbucks. We buy their coffee and eat whatever we have managed to plunder from the breakfast bar, normally muffins, pastries and fruit.
Today was no different except for location.
We picnicked in the cafe in Union Station.
Sat at the next table were a couple who had a wide variety of breads, pastries and cakes from the counter but they seemed more concerned with talking than eating.
I was quite happy to help them out with their left-overs and made that offer when the male disappeared.
It transpired from our conversation that she was a food adviser who was being contracted by the cafe to help them out with their menu.
The gentleman we had been picnicking beside was the owner! Ooops.
During our conversation we mentioned that in general, we found American food contained too much sugar and the girl agreed that she was trying to persuade him to cut down on it.
As our breakfast scavenging had produced slim pickings that morning Val & Sheila went up and bought a Cranberry scone to share and a bagel for me (Harvey was happy scoffing the over-ripe bananas which the rest of us wouldn't touch).
The onion bagel with cream cheese was lovely but Val spat out her first mouthful of scone in disgust and took it back to the counter to complain.
Her complaint?
They'd left out the sugar from the sweet scone recipe!!
How ironic!
They happily replaced the scone with a piece of cake which was fine but both the adviser and the owner came up to our table to talk about it.

Most of the refurbished stations have replaced the furnishings with uncomfortable modern seating but not LA. As you can see, the seats are still made of leather and are really comfortable.
We did finally manage to drag ourselves away to catch the same 704 bus back home.

And the cost for all this travelling?
$7:20 for day passes for all 4 of us.
That's just 90p each!!!!!!!
Ninety pence!
Now that's what I call a bargain.

Robs Obs 5 Part 2

My mind is in a whirl what can I do.
Joe Brown & the Bruvvers 1962

I totally lost my thread when I originally did this blog.
I meant to comment more on the coaches but just sort of drifted away from the subject.
One of the major differences in our use of coaches is the school trade.
Factor 1.
In England, our children are only entitled to school transport if they live over a certain distance from the school.
Effectively that cuts out about 75% of travel for kids and at a guess, most of the junior schools, up to the age of 12, never see a school bus.

Factor 2
In England we do not have school buses! This service is provided by local coach companies on a contract basis. When these coaches are not being used for the kids, they are free to be used elsewhere. Hence, they are able to offer a good fare structure for these other occasions as they have a regular income from the school run and anything else is a bonus.

I am amazed when I see so many school buses here, lying idle except for a couple of hours in the morning and afternoon.
Do they get used for anything else?
Do the drivers only get paid for a few hours a day?
How much does it cost the education system or is the cost borne by the school?
Who gave Giuliani duff advice?
Is every child taken to & from school?
Why am I waffling on?

One other thing I ommitted to say on the earlier blog was that apart from the major roads, street lighting here is virtually non-existent.
As soon as you move into side streets and residential areas, it's like going into the Black hole of Calcutta. Quite a surprise when you first encounter it as all our streets are lit up 'til the early hours or even longer.
Not a complaint, just another observation and with that I will bid you farewell.
I promise I will come up with something better soon.

You've got mail

Gonna sit right down and write myself a letter
And make pretend it came from you
Fats Waller 1935


Who said blogs have to be journals. Since I started this one I have found that some days I am so desperate for something interesting to say that I have moved away from the strictness of a diary to a more 'laissez faire' attitude to my entries.
Unlike my normal stories which are either factual fiction or fictional fact, I have to stick to the truth here as I've got three truth fairies looking over my shoulder.
Something occurred today that gave me another direction for the blog.
Like all of you no doubt, I get loads of funnies through email.
A lot of it is repetitive garbage that I bin but if anything good comes up, I pass it on.
Today I got one from my friend Jack in France which made me chuckle so I thought I'd share it with you by way of the blog.

These are all purported to be letters from readers which have been published by British newspapers.


If the failed 21/7 bombers had just waited three more days, we'd all be calling them the 24/7 bombers. This would imply that they blow things up all day every day and, despite their actual lack of success, make them at least sound like they were good at bombing.
Christina Martin, London


I just saw a van drive by with the company name 'Seafood Solutions'. I must admit, I didn't know seafood was a problem.
Martin Kristos

It is said that gentlemen prefer blondes. I hope then that lesbians prefer brunettes, otherwise we might have to organise some kind of rota system.
John Pring

I'm beginning to think there may be something in this climate change after all. Four months ago it was very cold and now it's quite warm.
Alan Heath

A woman whose daughter was hospitalised in a US tornado told ITV News that "God would make her better." presumably, that's a different God from the one that almost killed her with a tornado.
M Lovejoy

"She can dish it out, but she cannot take it", I once heard someone say of me. And it's true - I'm a school dinner lady and I'm allergic to mashed potatoes.
Mrs Pinches, Hereford

I heard on the news that the January storms had cost this country a billion pounds. What an utter waste of money. If anything, they did more harm than good.
S Provert, Scarborough

So Princes Harry and William are throwing a party to celebrate the 10th anniversary of their mother's death. I'm glad that they can finally laugh about it, but throwing a party seems a bit harsh.
D Andrews, Rhyll

I think Sir Paul McCartney should try to put his current predicament into perspective. In olden days, if you were unfortunate enough to be robbed by an omniped, it would almost certainly be a pirate. At least he's going to come out of this alive.
Stephanie, Matlock

What is it with diabetics? One minute they're on the floor with a loved one standing by screaming "Give him some chocolate! Give him some chocolate!" The next day someone offers them a piece of chocolate and quick as a flash they say "No thanks, I'm diabetic." I wish they'd get their story straight.
T Potter

Yesterday I received an e-mail from a bored housewife looking for some action. Eager to please the young lady I sent her my ironing. That should keep her quiet for a while.
B. Warren. Tunbridge Wells

THIS new police knife amnesty is a bloody nightmare. I dutifully handed all my knives in and now I've got nothing to eat my dinner with.
Richard Karslake, Oxfordshire

TO THE zookeeper in 1978 who replied "I'll tell you when you're older" when I asked him why one of the monkeys stuck its finger up another one's bum: I'm 36 now and still waiting for that explanation.
Joe McKeown

I'M A terrorist, and when ID cards come into force I will probably employ great cunning and not declare that as my job. I'll probably say I'm a grocer or something.
A Terrorist

WHY DON'T NHS bosses start hiring obsessive compulsives as nurses? Their attention to hygiene and constant hand washing would see an end to MRSA outbreaks in no time.
Stu Bray

'Alton Towers - Where the magic never ends', or so the commercial says. Imagine my disappointment when it closed at 7.30.
Colin Hill

'Tonight there's gonna be a jailbreak', sang Thin Lizzy in 1976, 'somewhere in this town'. Well, I'm guessing it's going to be at the prison.
Ray Fox, Essex


Well, they made me laugh.
I promise you a proper blog tomorrow about LA transport.

Robs Obs 5

Trains and boats and planes
are passing by
Dionne Warwick 1966

Notice what's missing from the list above?
Coaches.
Now Harvey will argue with me but I maintain that you hardly see any coaches on the roads out here.
On our two day trip down from Santa Rosa we only saw 5 of them. That's in 450 miles.
Perhaps it's because we live in a resort area that we see a lot but even on a trip to visit Harvey which is only 95 miles, we'll probably see 20 - 30.
We did have two coaches visit our hotel in Palm Springs whilst we were there. They were delivering groups of 'Ladies in Red Hats' which is a national society for ladies who like to get together and have fun.
They all wear red hats of whatever design they choose, coupled with purple jumpers/tee shirts/sweaters. I know, it's a dreadful combination of colours but it was inspired by a poem by Jenny Joseph which starts.
When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

Back to the coaches or my reasons for the lack of them.
Most people seem to prefer to use their own cars for local transport and planes for long distance. The trains are very evident but mostly for freight rather than passengers.
On our trip to the Salton Sea we saw umpteen freight trains but not a single passenger train. Some of them were enormous. Val counted 109 flatcars on one train pulled by 5 engines. Most of these carried huge shipping containers and a great many of these were double stacked. Think how many truck miles that would save.
I keep trying to record the trains as they pass a crossing. The bells clang and the train whistles a lonely 'whoo whoo' and it so reminds me of the movies I watched as a kid.
I'm just gonna have to make a special trip to get the recording done so you can hear what I'm talking about.

Being close to the ocean as we are, there are plenty of opportunities to see boats of all sizes.
In San Diego, we drove past the US Navy Pacific fleet repair yards and I counted at least 30 warships alongside. I hate to admit this, and it may surprise you, but that is more than the total number of major ships left in the Royal Navy. As an ex-sailor, I find it a great shame to realise that we don't have the best navy in the world anymore but that's talking from my heart, not my head. I realise that money spent on defence cannot be spent on more worthy needs.
San Diego is also a favourite visiting port for the Cruise ships and there is generally one or more in port on a daily basis. Their berth is right beside Anthony's Fish'n'Chip restaurant so we could watch them leaving port as we ate.
We also drove past Marina Del Rey which is enormous. I've never seen so many private yachts in one place but again I question whether the money spent on a big toy could not be spent better elsewhere? I'd hate to hazard a guess as to how many never get out of the marina.
I've already had an earlier whinge about the gas guzzling cars so I won't say any more but I would like to have a quick mention about the roads.
In comparison with ours they are a joy to drive on, due to their size but are nothing like as well constructed or maintained.
Funnily enough, in general I don't find that a problem.
What I do like is:-

1. A great proportion of them are built from concrete and they are noisy but it's a cheap way to build and, as I don't notice the noise whilst I'm driving, I'm in favour of concrete roads.
2. They appear to be kept in use far longer than ours and are patched continuously. The surface is usually a camouflage of blacks where repairs have taken place. It's adequate though and a car's suspension is fully capable of dealing with all but the worst pot-holes. At home our roads seem to be constantly under repair and resurfacing the whole stretch seems to be the only way they know.
3. Except for major roads, they appear to be of a much simpler construction than ours. You wouldn't find a road in Britain that didn't have a kerb and built in drainage system whereas that seems to be quite common out here and again seems perfectly adequate.
4. Road & street names are very obvious out here and are hung high for all to see as are traffic lights.

What I don't like is

1. Four way stops where everyone behaves in a well mannered way and proceeds in turn. I think our mini-roundabouts are a far better idea. Stop signs appear in the most unlikely places and they would have been a night-mare if Loretta hadn't introduced me to the 'Hollywood' stop.
2. Road markings have to be pretty worn out before they get re-painted and on a well patched road on a wet night, I find it very difficult to see my lane.
3. Cats eyes aren't a patch on ours. They seem to be made of some yellow reflective material which soon loses it's lustre. With ours being self cleaning, they are always obvious.

I'd love to see a per mile cost comparison for building and upkeep. I wouldn't mind betting that it's a lot cheaper out here.

Now that I have discovered an easy way to get Kate away from her obsession with motor-ways, driving has become much more of a pleasure and we see all sorts of things we would have missed if we'd stuck to the Interstates. If you want to get someplace in a hurry though, the Interstates are invaluable.

I still haven't spoken about big trucks yet but that will come later.

I'm off to bed to dream of persuading 'Myth Busters' to explode a Hummer!!

Palm Springs

It ain't necessarily so, it ain't necessarily so.
De t'ings dat yo' li'ble to read in de Bible,
it ain't necessarily so.
George & Ira Gershwin 1935

I found Palm Springs to be a total enigma.
Superficially, I loved it but would I want to live there?
Not on your Nelly.

It is so artificial that it's difficult to know if there really is a real Palm Springs. Not that it matters anyway.
You get out of it what you want and if you don't find what you want, you move on. Just like anyplace else.

What I loved about it was the constant views.
Palm Springs is part of a large conurbation in the Coachella valley, hemmed in on all sides by mountains. There doesn't seem to be much more room for expansion as some of the houses are built right up against these massifs.
Every road we drove along was wide and lined with Palm trees and I'm talking TALL palms. Added to this was the magnificent backdrop of the mountains in every direction you faced and it was awesome.
And it's all so green.
Constant watering and judicious amounts of chemical additives are responsible, I guess but it's very impressive, nonetheless.
Most days, the clouds were very few and the sky a beautiful blue which added to the backdrop.
Harvey & I went for a climb up a trail behind the PS Art Museum. It was pretty treacherous going, especially for Harvey as he only had boat shoes on with no tread.
The surface was loose stones and dirt and all up a pretty steep gradient. It was a long drop if you lost your footing.
We didn't make it to the top at 1400 feet but we got well past halfway and the views were pretty terrific.
Due to the wonders of the digital age, I was able to speak to Val at the bottom on my cell phone and direct her gaze to where we were standing on our way down.
She was then able to take a photo of us up there. Pretty cool, huh?
(BTW Whilst Harvey & I were risking life and limb, Val & Sheila were hitting the High Street. After that, they went into the museum and talked to the lady in reception whose sister owns and runs Corkers wine bar on Poole Quay! Funny old world.)

Once you moved away from the urban area, you could see what it would look like if all the watering stopped.
I hope they manage to keep it as it is however. It really is an awe inspiring sight.

So. What was there against it.
The population seemed totally unbalanced.
Everywhere we went, there were old people. Everywhere.
Whilst some of my best friends could be termed old and I'm heading that way, to see nothing but old folks was strange.
It was as if there was some local ordinance, banning anyone under the age of 60 from the streets between 10am & 8pm.
The worst effect was a lack of vibrancy in the town. It just felt sanitised, sterile & flat.
As is my wont, I visited the local barbershop chorus and it was pretty dire. They sang badly and I'm sure they must have realised it. If they didn't, their CD surely must have done but he just smiled and let it go. There was just a total lack of passion & vibrancy which typified the whole city.

We like Mimi's restaurants and went to the one in Palm Desert for a meal one night.
Normally these are great family restaurants and are frequented by, er................... families. Who else?
Not in Palm Desert. We were the youngest patrons and the place was packed but dead. I've felt more atmosphere in a dentists waiting room.

So that's it.
My unbiased views of Palm Springs.
My one regret was that for the first time in an age, I fancied a game of golf and didn't get to play. Palm Springs is renowned for it's golf and we saw some very inviting courses but there was no way we could fit it into our schedule. I'll just have to wait 'til next time. Not!

One feature we spotted on our way out was the Wind Farms. I've never seen so many wind turbines. I know there is a lot of resistance about them at home but personally, I find them very elegant and not an eyesore in the slightest.

Windmill or carbon?
I'll take the former any time.

Whilst it may not be my cup of tea, Palm Springs sure as hell knocks the spots off Eastbourne & St. Leonards, it's English counterparts.

Rob's Obs 4

Crazy
Patsy Cline 1961

'Care in the community' was the buzzword at home when they were looking for an excuse to shut down the loony bins to save money. Consequently we now have a great many mentally challenged people, trying inadequately to fend for themselves.
I don't know what they called it over here but it has had the same result, magnifed a thousand times.
There are nutters all over the place.
While most of them seem harmless enough, there are quite a few with whom I'd avoid eye contact and I try to detour beyond aroma range.

Sometimes it seems like passing through the world's biggest open air, after care clinic.

The problem is, you can't always spot 'em straight away.
I sat in a Ralph's supermarket one evening having a coffee and chatting to the guy next to me. When Harvey came across, I turned my attention to him and within 5 minutes my new friend was engaged in an animated conversation with his reflection in the window and judging by the hilarity going on, told himself quite a few jokes that he hadn't heard before.
Seeing outwardly sensible folks holding apparent private conversations with themselves is an everyday occurrence here until you look closely only to discover that they have one of those ridiculous BlueTooth gadgets stuck behind a lug-'ole and realise that they are 'on the phone'.

Everything paled into insignificance yesterday when we went to Loony Mecca and met the grand-master himself.

I had read an article in Barnes & Noble about The Salton Sea and I was intrigued enough to make it a project for the day.
A lady at an information booth told Val that it was about 45 minutes away so first thing in the morning, (well, second thing really) off we set.
Kate obviously had got wind of this and refused to navigate for us so we had to rely on Isobel (The Smiffs sat-nav/GPS) to direct us there from the back seat. She never really caught up all day.
After about 2 hours, we made it to our destination and visited the visitor centre as you do.
It was quite fascinating and to cap it all, the head honcho of the rangers was married to a girl from Poole whose uncle was once harbour master and has a plaque in his honour attached to the lifeboat station.
If you're reading this Mike, the guys name is Black. (Mike is a mine of knowledge about seafaring matters, particularly in Poole harbour. He also makes exquisitely finished yachts under the name of Tradewind Yachts.)
The Salton Sea has a very interesting history and is pretty much the result of an accident.
It is an inland sea, 228' below sea level with a level of salinity higher than the Pacific Ocean.
These are some of the pictures that Harvey took.

These are dead Tipalia that were imported from Africa to keep down the weeds and have populated the lake extensively. They die in shoals when the water gets too cold or starved of oxygen by excessive plankton growth.

After we had explored that area, we wandered further down it's coast (it's 35 miles long) and dropped into Bombay Beach to have a gander there.
What a place that is. All kinds of trailer homes with any mount of trash/treasure piled up outside and feral dogs roaming around.
After a look at some of the locals we quietly slipped away with Harvey surreptitiously taking photos from the back seat through an open window.
My ultimate destination had been a town called Niland and this is what I have been heading to in the previous rambling paragraphs.
After getting directions from the local Sheriffs Deputy, who rolled his eyes at our query, we arrived at the world's most colourful nut-house.Leonard, the owner/architect/caretaker, landed on this spot in a hot air balloon in 1984 and decided that this was the ideal setting for his version of the Sistine chapel.
His full name, we didn't obtain but at a guess it's Leonard O'davinci 'cos only a Paddy could come up with something as crazy as this.

He calls it Salvation Mountain and it's one of the most amazing edificies I've ever seen or am ever likely to see. It was certainly worth the 2 hour drive on it's own.We were busily taking pictures when a car pulled up and Leonard emerged from his Salvation truck where he lives, to conduct a tour. We were given the option to tag along but declined though I'm not sure why.The Salvation Truck

If you're in the area, (or anywhere within 200 miles) you've gotta go see it.

Back in Niland, we went searching for an old Greyhound bus we'd seen earlier.
After getting confusing directions from a couple of odd-balls making gun holsters, who we had stopped to ask, we finally found it further along the road where the owner was topping up it's water tanks.
The couple who'd 'restored' it and converted it to an RV came from Redding in northern California and used it to get away when they got fed up with the winter rain.
For those of you who are still reading this load of old waffle and are interested in the technicalities, it was a 1954 Flxible (No, I haven't spelled it wrong).

As we couldn't find a Starbucks, we ate our picnic beside the road and just as I'd finished, up rolled the next shift of loonies.
You've gotta be nuts to decorate your car with circuit boards, computer chips, mother boards, shotgun cartridges, old shell cases and sparklet bulbs.
Finally, to complete our day of confusion, we were pulled in by members of the Immigration & Border patrol and given the 3rd degree about our movements despite being at least 60 miles from the Mexican border
Crazy!

BTW. We stopped off at Medjool's date farm on our way home and as far as we're concerned Jane, date shakes can stay a very California thing to do.