Journeyman - Chapter 1 - North America
14th August 1980.
THE TRAVELLER
On the first day of the Journey the traveller was prepared
His words of conciliation were never heard
He didn't know where he was going
Just a poem in his mind
And all the things he valued, he left behind.
Allan Taylor
On the first day of the Journey the traveller was prepared
His words of conciliation were never heard
He didn't know where he was going
Just a poem in his mind
And all the things he valued, he left behind.
Allan Taylor
I pulled the door closed to the flat where I'd lived for 4 years and left a house, a job, and a life in Liverpool behind, knowing that I would never go back and that my life would never be the same again. While most of my friends were settling for; what I call the 3Ms.......... Mortgage, marriage and making babies, I had decided that there had to be more to life than that...
I threw my backpack in the back of my newly repaired and resprayed, orange MGB GT (it had been stolen three weeks earlier and left parked up a lamppost) and drove to meet the brother of a friend who wanted to buy it from me. With an extra £550 in my wallet I took a train to London and on to Heathrow Airport where Hazel was already waiting. We weren't a couple, just friends of a few years, but we got on fairly well and both wanted a bit of an adventure.
She'd already got our names on the standby list for Freddie Laker's daily Skytrain flight to Miami, Florida......would we get a seat that day, or have to come back tomorrow?. We got on...
Arriving in Miami in the small hours there was nothing to do but try to sleep on the airport seats until we could get a bus down-town and then on to Keywest, at the far tip of the Florida Keys, for a few days' relaxation, and getting over jet-lag.
The plan we had was to hitch up the Eastern Seaboard of the US visiting friends in South Carolina and Vermont and spending time in Washington, New York, and wherever took our fancy. Then over the border into Canada with more stays with friends in Mississauga, Toronto, Montreal and then try to get an Auto-driveaway car, hopefully for Vancouver, but failing that anywhere in Western Canada.
Hitching with Hazel wasn't difficult. One always travels faster than two, but a presentable couple usually don't wait long, even if they have backpacks. We got rides in big trucks, 18 wheeler WHITES, MACKS, PETERBILT and KENWORTH, pickup trucks, and saloons. Met some interesting people, including a black truck driver with 13 children who went by the CB Handle of “LOVEMAN”. We did get out of one lift prematurely when we realised that the driver and his friend were totally stoned. Occasionally drivers were able to organise the next lift for us by CB radio, but usually we just relied on our “Magic Thumbs”.
I threw my backpack in the back of my newly repaired and resprayed, orange MGB GT (it had been stolen three weeks earlier and left parked up a lamppost) and drove to meet the brother of a friend who wanted to buy it from me. With an extra £550 in my wallet I took a train to London and on to Heathrow Airport where Hazel was already waiting. We weren't a couple, just friends of a few years, but we got on fairly well and both wanted a bit of an adventure.
She'd already got our names on the standby list for Freddie Laker's daily Skytrain flight to Miami, Florida......would we get a seat that day, or have to come back tomorrow?. We got on...
Arriving in Miami in the small hours there was nothing to do but try to sleep on the airport seats until we could get a bus down-town and then on to Keywest, at the far tip of the Florida Keys, for a few days' relaxation, and getting over jet-lag.
The plan we had was to hitch up the Eastern Seaboard of the US visiting friends in South Carolina and Vermont and spending time in Washington, New York, and wherever took our fancy. Then over the border into Canada with more stays with friends in Mississauga, Toronto, Montreal and then try to get an Auto-driveaway car, hopefully for Vancouver, but failing that anywhere in Western Canada.
Hitching with Hazel wasn't difficult. One always travels faster than two, but a presentable couple usually don't wait long, even if they have backpacks. We got rides in big trucks, 18 wheeler WHITES, MACKS, PETERBILT and KENWORTH, pickup trucks, and saloons. Met some interesting people, including a black truck driver with 13 children who went by the CB Handle of “LOVEMAN”. We did get out of one lift prematurely when we realised that the driver and his friend were totally stoned. Occasionally drivers were able to organise the next lift for us by CB radio, but usually we just relied on our “Magic Thumbs”.
CAROLINA IN MY MIND
In my mind I'm going to Carolina
Can't you see the sunshine
Can't you just feel the moonshine
And ain't it just like a friend of mine
To hit me from behind
Gone to Carolina in my mind.
In my mind I'm going to Carolina
Can't you see the sunshine
Can't you just feel the moonshine
And ain't it just like a friend of mine
To hit me from behind
Gone to Carolina in my mind.
We spent a lovely week with Mac & Jean Smurthwaite at their beautiful home by a lake on the outskirts of Columbia S.C. Their daughter Tori had married a good friend, Chris, and was living in England. I had been best man at their wedding and was Godfather to Caroline, their daughter. Tori's friends, Christy, Debbie and Alan were invited to meet us and we spent a lovely time by the Smurthwaite's pool being wined and dined, as well as days out sightseeing. Southern Hospitality at its best.
On the Saturday of that excellent week we drove down to Charleston on the Carolina coast to see Jean's nephew, Tom Featherstone, who was a Navel Officer on board the USS MOLINUX. The ship was in port and we were invited to visit, have a guided tour around the ship and join Tom and a few of the officers for a crab-fest at a beach house at Foley Beach. Two bushels of fresh crab were cooked in cider and picked apart on a newspaper-lined table, washed down with lots of beer. I love crab and this was a most excellent way to spend an afternoon.
On the Saturday of that excellent week we drove down to Charleston on the Carolina coast to see Jean's nephew, Tom Featherstone, who was a Navel Officer on board the USS MOLINUX. The ship was in port and we were invited to visit, have a guided tour around the ship and join Tom and a few of the officers for a crab-fest at a beach house at Foley Beach. Two bushels of fresh crab were cooked in cider and picked apart on a newspaper-lined table, washed down with lots of beer. I love crab and this was a most excellent way to spend an afternoon.
Dark and silent late, last night
think I might have heard the highway call
Geese in flight, and dogs that bite
And signs that might be omens
Say I'm going, going
Gone to Carolina in my mind.
James Taylor
think I might have heard the highway call
Geese in flight, and dogs that bite
And signs that might be omens
Say I'm going, going
Gone to Carolina in my mind.
James Taylor
The next day, we took most of the day to hitch to Washington, and found a cheap motel on the edge of town. We packed in a good couple of days sightseeing including The White House, The Capitol Building, The Washington Monument, The National Mile, Lincoln Memorial and as much of the Smithsonian Institute Museum of Flight as we could take in.
Then followed a few days in the Big Apple, NYC. We stayed in a hostel in Downtown Manhattan
and again tried to cram in as many sights as a few days would allow, including The Staute of Liberty, Liberty Island ferry with its great views of the NY waterfront and the twin towers of The World Trade Centre, and Rockafella Plaza. We ate in Chinatown and listened to jazz music on Bleecker Street before walking back to the hostel at midnight. I had last been to NYC in November 1974 and it had been as cold and windswept as hell, but here it was mid-summer with hot evenings and everyone out enjoying themselves.
Getting out of New York was not fun - go to the end of the subway line and walk........'til you find a spot you can hitch north from. BUT we made it and eventually found our way to Martha's Vineyard
and managed to find a B & B in Edgartown we could just about afford. Quite an achievement in a place that normally caters for the rich & famous. We hired bikes for the day and cycled to Edgartown, Vineyard Haven & Oak Bluffs.
Then followed a few days in the Big Apple, NYC. We stayed in a hostel in Downtown Manhattan
and again tried to cram in as many sights as a few days would allow, including The Staute of Liberty, Liberty Island ferry with its great views of the NY waterfront and the twin towers of The World Trade Centre, and Rockafella Plaza. We ate in Chinatown and listened to jazz music on Bleecker Street before walking back to the hostel at midnight. I had last been to NYC in November 1974 and it had been as cold and windswept as hell, but here it was mid-summer with hot evenings and everyone out enjoying themselves.
Getting out of New York was not fun - go to the end of the subway line and walk........'til you find a spot you can hitch north from. BUT we made it and eventually found our way to Martha's Vineyard
and managed to find a B & B in Edgartown we could just about afford. Quite an achievement in a place that normally caters for the rich & famous. We hired bikes for the day and cycled to Edgartown, Vineyard Haven & Oak Bluffs.
OLD CAPE COD
If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air
Quaint little villages here and there
You're sure to fall in love
With old Cape Cod
If you like the taste of lobster stew
Served by a window with an ocean view
You're sure to fall in love
With old Cape Cod
Winding roads that seem to beckon you
Miles of green, beneath the sky of blue
Church bells chiming on a Sunday morn
Remind you of the town, where you were born
If you spend an evening, you'll want to stay
Watching the moonlight, on Cape Cod Bay
You're sure to fall in love...
With Old Cape Cod.
Rothrock, Yakus & Jeffrey
If you're fond of sand dunes and salty air
Quaint little villages here and there
You're sure to fall in love
With old Cape Cod
If you like the taste of lobster stew
Served by a window with an ocean view
You're sure to fall in love
With old Cape Cod
Winding roads that seem to beckon you
Miles of green, beneath the sky of blue
Church bells chiming on a Sunday morn
Remind you of the town, where you were born
If you spend an evening, you'll want to stay
Watching the moonlight, on Cape Cod Bay
You're sure to fall in love...
With Old Cape Cod.
Rothrock, Yakus & Jeffrey
A few days later we were heading for Montpelier, Vermont, but failed to make it to our destination before dark and had to sleep out. We were rudely awakened by a shower early in the morning and took shelter in a McDonalds which was just opening for breakfast at 6am. However, we later caught up with another friend from Liverpool, Janey, and enjoyed a brief visit before heading for Canada.
Somewhere around these parts I recall a driver who asked me “What are you looking for, what are you hoping to find?”. I didn't know what to tell him because he just didn't seem to get it....the whole thing was to travel. Thinking on it later I came up with a short rhyme that summed it up:-
Somewhere around these parts I recall a driver who asked me “What are you looking for, what are you hoping to find?”. I didn't know what to tell him because he just didn't seem to get it....the whole thing was to travel. Thinking on it later I came up with a short rhyme that summed it up:-
You ask me why I'm on the road
What have I left behind
Nothing, I'm just answering a call I heard
I don't know what I'll find.
Now is the only time to roam
While I'm still young, and free
And though some day I want a home
Whatever will be, will be
Much later I found a couple of lines by Stevenson that sum it up much better than I could...............
“For my part I travel not to go anywhere, but to go.
I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move.
A lovely lady picked us early evening and took us to her home in Montreal, for the night. She had children travelling in Europe and hoped someone would do the same for them. A few days later we arrived at Fabian's in Mississauga in time to share a joint 28th birthday celebration with a guy who is one of my Astral Twins. We dined at The Hayloft Restaurant where a barbershop quartet of waiting staff sang “ Happy Birthday” to us. We did sight-seeing around Toronto, Blackcreek Pioneer Village, Downtown Toronto, The CN tower etc. Fabian & his brothers Ian, Mike and Dave were welcoming & generous hosts.
I took a side trip and hitched down to see my friend Bonnie at Tillsonburg (“My backaches every time I hear that word”) near Lake Erie, where I had picked tobacco in the Summer of 1974 on my first trip to North America. Walking into her flat was like walking into a personal portrait gallery; there was photos of ME everywhere. After several weeks on the road my hair & beard where a bit disreputable. Bonnie cut my hair and even trimmed my beard, making me more presentable before taking me out and wining & dining me. What a lovely person and after 40 years she is still a dear friend.
On the following Sunday, Bonnie took me sight-seeing to Niagrara Falls where we walked behind the falls and took a trip on the boat “Lady of the Mist”. Later we met up again with Fabian, his brothers, Ian & Mike and Hazel's newly arrived friend from London, Sally, who planned to join us for a two week holiday crossing Canada. We had a most excellent day out and finished up with a “Pizza wid de works” in a restaurant. That night we stayed with “The Flying Dutchman”, a Dutch emigrant to Canada who drove consignments of flowers between the Niagara Falls area and Montreal. He had previously given us a lift and invited us to visit him & his family, before taking us back to Montreal.
We had checked out the Auto-driveaway situation in Toronto and it wasn't good; too many people with the same idea to head west and too few cars. We hoped that Montreal would be a better bet and so it proved to be. The choice was surprising, a Chevrolet Camaro or a Pontiac TransAm, no rubbish here. The Camaro was two-seater however, so two days later the three of us were heading west in a black Pontiac TransAm, with 12 days to drive it 5,000kms to Vancouver !!. Actually more like 6,000kms as we planned a diversion north to Edmonton.
I took a side trip and hitched down to see my friend Bonnie at Tillsonburg (“My backaches every time I hear that word”) near Lake Erie, where I had picked tobacco in the Summer of 1974 on my first trip to North America. Walking into her flat was like walking into a personal portrait gallery; there was photos of ME everywhere. After several weeks on the road my hair & beard where a bit disreputable. Bonnie cut my hair and even trimmed my beard, making me more presentable before taking me out and wining & dining me. What a lovely person and after 40 years she is still a dear friend.
On the following Sunday, Bonnie took me sight-seeing to Niagrara Falls where we walked behind the falls and took a trip on the boat “Lady of the Mist”. Later we met up again with Fabian, his brothers, Ian & Mike and Hazel's newly arrived friend from London, Sally, who planned to join us for a two week holiday crossing Canada. We had a most excellent day out and finished up with a “Pizza wid de works” in a restaurant. That night we stayed with “The Flying Dutchman”, a Dutch emigrant to Canada who drove consignments of flowers between the Niagara Falls area and Montreal. He had previously given us a lift and invited us to visit him & his family, before taking us back to Montreal.
We had checked out the Auto-driveaway situation in Toronto and it wasn't good; too many people with the same idea to head west and too few cars. We hoped that Montreal would be a better bet and so it proved to be. The choice was surprising, a Chevrolet Camaro or a Pontiac TransAm, no rubbish here. The Camaro was two-seater however, so two days later the three of us were heading west in a black Pontiac TransAm, with 12 days to drive it 5,000kms to Vancouver !!. Actually more like 6,000kms as we planned a diversion north to Edmonton.
FOUR STRONG WINDS
Four strong winds that blow lonely, Seven seas that run high,
All these things that don't change, Come what may.
But our good times are all gone,
And I'm bound for moving on.
I'll look for you if I'm ever back this way.
Think I'll go out to Alberta,
Weather's good there in the fall.
Got some friends that I can go to working for,
Still I wish you'd change your mind,
If I asked you one more time,
But we've been through that a hundred times or more.
If I get there before the snow flies,
And if things are going good,
You could meet me if I send you down the fare.
But by then it will be winter, there ain't too much for you to do,
And those winds sure can blow way out there.
Ian Tyson
Unfortunately the weather changed and was poor most of the way to The Rockies. What is it with North America that they produce such big cars, (ours had a V8 3.6 litre engine) and such low speed limits:- 100km per hour in Canada and the awful “Double Nickel” at that time in the US of 55mph !!!.
We got stopped for speeding. Me once and Sally once, however our good luck held out and when confronted with a UK driving licence the police let us off with a warning. TWICE.........
God...The Prairies where you can drive all day and hardly see a change of scenery. We drove from Winnepeg, Manitoba to the outskirts of Edmonton in one day, almost 1,000kms. Finding where my friends Penny & Jack lived was not easy. We had to phone for directions several times. Their home was in the backwoods and “Lifestyle acreages” of an area called Sherwood Park. Penny had studied in Liverpool and was a friend of a friend, who I'd met a couple of times, but she was kind enough to invite us to stay. She and her architect husband had designed and built their house, but I have never yet had so much trouble finding a place. Instructions like drive 3 miles east and two miles north, and look out for the Rural Postboxes mean very little when it's night, dark and pouring with rain. There were no pavements, street lights, pubs or landmarks and most houses were well back from the road. Only the occasional light from a house could be seen from the road. Roll on the invention of the Sat Nav, but even then I doubt it would penetrate Sherwood Park!
Sadly Sherwood Park could only be an overnight stop, the terms of our Auto-Driveaway car meant we had to keep pushing on. We headed south for Calgary where we managed a few hours sightseeing and a trip up the Calgary Tower. Then west and on to Banff. We took the cable car up Sulphur Mountain but all the photos I have show little but low, grey cloud and mist.
There must be something about Banff because I bumped into a couple I knew from Liverpool who were on holiday there. Six years earlier I had been sitting in a coffee shop there and saw a figure go past the window. I said “That looks like Allan Earl” to my friend John. I rushed out of the café and indeed found Allan Earl, a friend and former school mate from Alnwick! He too had been picking tobacco by the shores of Lake Erie in the Summer of '74 so I did know he was in Canada. Little did I know that this would be the first of several cases of coincidence or serendipity during the trip.
The weather continued to spoil sight-seeing and photographs, but didn't dampen the spirits too much. We viewed Mount Revelstoke, Glacier National Park and caught occasional glimpses of the mighty Rockie Mountain peaks. Driving off from one overnight stop in the early morning we found Elk eating their breakfast of grass from manicured lawns and council reserves. We took in the spectacular scenery, visited Lake Louise and............. headed ever westwards.
Hazel had known that she wouldn't have the money to travel on from the West Coast with me and she and Sally decided to go fruit picking in the Okanagen area of British Columbia while I drove on to Vancouver, picking up the occasional hitch-hiker along the way. The outskirts of every town or city found a crop of hitch-hikers vying for a lift, but one sticks in the mind. A chap with surfboard and boardshorts and a sign that said optimistically HAWAII ! I cruised into Vancouver with two Germans; Jorge and Heidi and found the drop off point for the Pontiac. I'd clocked up 6,100kms, fortunately with no more than dirt and worn tyres to show for it.
Then the excellent Vancouver Youth Hostel was home for a few days and base for a spot of sight-seeing. It was good to be back. I'd spent a few days here in 1974. With several other travellers we took in some of what this west coast city had to offer. Gastown, Chinatown and the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park.
I spotted an advert for a concert by bluesman, folklorist & storyteller Roy Bookbinder and went to see him play. This guy was a brilliant guitarplayer and former student and friend of The Reverend Gary Davis. Small, mustachiod and hat-wearing, he cut quite a dash as he recounted tales of the early bluesmen, and in particular Pink Anderson who he was quite an authority on.He sang songs like “The Terraplane Blues”, “Police dog blues” and “Boweevil”.
Before the days of mobile phones, instant messaging, emails and texts, keeping up with friends and family meant writing frequent letters, aerogrammes, and postcards and hoping that when you went to GPO in a major city along the way that there would be a few letters waiting for you addressed “Poste Restante” or “General Delivery”. Then you could retire to a coffee shop for a good read and catch up with the news from home.
A visit to Victoria on Vancouver Island seemed like a good idea, and besides the Tsawwassan to Nanaimo ferry had had the best chowder I'd ever tasted, I hoped it would still be as good as the last time six years earlier. It was never difficult to make friends at hostels and find people to go sight-seeing with, or out for a meal or drink. Victoria is a lovely city, and those red double-decker buses seemed strangely familiar. I found Jorge & Heidi there too and we did some sight-seeing - The Capitol Buildings, The Waterfront and a trip out-of-town to see the excellent Butchard Gardens, which were as beautiful as ever.
Back in Vancouver a few days later, a postcard on the notice board at the hostel found me a young lady called Sue who wanted to hitch to San Francisco as well. However, a bus over the border into the US seemed a sensible thing to do first. Further down the road in Washington state we passed through a cutting in a “lunar landscape” where the sea of lava from the eruption of Mount Helen's had covered the highway a few months before. The eruption of Mt St Helens in May 1980 had been big news around the world as it was the biggest American mainland volcanic eruption since 1915.
A variety of lifts down the West Coast route took us the 1,500 kms to San Francisco via the Redwood Highway. Driving through the night we arrived at The Golden Gateway Bridge in the early morning. Ah San Francisco...beautiful and crazy. Life lived vicariously on the San Andreas fault-line.
I was lucky enough to have three contacts / friends here; another Bonnie who I'd met on a previous trip, Neil O'Neill, her former partner, (a Scotsman from Glasgow) and Dave, a temporary resident on a two year contract. I also had to collect a letter containing a very important cheque and get it cashed. This was my cashed-up superannuation from almost 5 years working for Liverpool City Council. This would enable me to buy an onward ticket from the USA to New Zealand. Getting the cheque cashed proved a long slow process and took almost two weeks. How amazing we can now send money around the World at the press of a button. I didn't even have a credit card back then! How did I survive, oh yes - travellers checks and American Express Offices.
Bonnie was a would be actress and drama student, and a rich man's daughter with a trust fund. She owned a very nice house on Buena Vista Tce, Haight-Asbury. Graham Nash of The Hollies and Crosby-Stills-Nash & Young had lived over the road. But Bonnie was a strange host, not rising 'til almost mid-day and wouldn't let me use the kitchen when I'd been up for hours. However, we did get out for a day and I found myself in a Sausalito waterfront bar drinking an expensive Newcastle Brown Ale that must have come half-way around the world.
I checked the Youth Hostel noticeboard a few times and found a couple of British guys trying to find a driver over 25 to share a car rental to go to Yosemite. I fitted the description and met Pete & Bill who had been selling ice cream in the mid-west for the summer. We hired a compact car and headed inland with only a couple of stops to sample wines at some vineyards. Pete & Bill had some camping equipment so we were able to camp at Lower River campground. We spent a couple of days walking in the area, did a small part of the John Muir trail, visited Bridal Veil and Nevada Falls. It was mid-October by now and the temperatures were noticeably cooler; we had a dusting of snow one night. Warnings about bears were everywhere. Not leaving refuse, what to do with food in campground etc, but we never saw one. However, driving out of the campground in search of a pizza one night we saw several timber wolves prowling around. They didn't warn us about those!
Then back to San Fran and I contacted Neil O'Neill over on the Berkeley side of The Bay area. He was going horse riding with his friend Jeannie in Marin County. Did I want to come?. “Err, I've never ridden a horse” … ”Come on, You'll be fine.”...and I was. They picked me up at the BART station.
We had a sublime horse ride along the beach as the sun went down. This was followed by a very drunken night at an Irish pub called “The Starry Plough”, the sort of pub where they used to collect dollars for the IRA. I thought “I hope they don't know I'm English”.
Next morning while I was standing at the sink getting a much needed drink of water in my underpants, I met Neil's new partner Melissa! She handed me a couple of painkillers and some vitamins and gave me a knowing smile. I liked her immediately!
A few days later I hitched south to Seaside, near Carmel / Monterrey while the bank was still trying to sort out my cheque and exchange it for US dollars. However, all was not well with my bowels.....I'm sure I had CAMPYLOBACTER from one too many fast-food meals out. My friends Dan & Pat were very understanding and wonderful hosts, as they had been several years earlier. Once I felt better we went to Carmel Mission where there is a commemorative plaque to a SIR HARRY DOWNIE.....wonder who was? Maybe a distant relative.
A few days later I was back in SF and staying with Dave from the UK and finally I had my money sorted and the means to buy my onward flights. San Francisco-Honolulu-Auckland-Sydney on US carrier CONTINENTAL and a week in the sunshine of Hawaii. The main Waikiki Beach Hostel was a real international cross roads, Aussies and Kiwis flying to the U.S and Europe mixing with Europeans flying “Down -Under”. Information, job leads, names & addresses were freely exchanged.
Every morning that week a delegation of international hostelers would walk down-town to Waikiki Beach to one of the big hotels offering an “All you can eat breakfast buffet”... and there we would stay, until the staff turfed us out in order to set up for lunch. We'd eat all sorts of fresh tropical fruits - papaya, mango, pineapple - followed by fried breakfasts and almost endless toast and coffee. We put the world to rights, exchanging plans and experiences. One of the big topics of conversation was the forthcoming US election, only a week or so away which would see Ronald Regan elected as President.
I met two other Brits - Pete and Robin who had finished University in England and been working the summer in the States and were now heading to NZ & Australia as well. Also George from Sydney. We sat through a Timeshare meeting which held the promise of a very cheap car hire deal at the end of it.
The four of us had a day touring around the Island and as George was keeping the car for a another day or two, he was able to take me to the airport. Before we left we shouted around the hostel “Anyone need a lift to the Airport?” … A rather beautiful, blond German girl called “Teeny” said she did. She said she was going to, I thought... “Oakland”, near San Francisco, how disappointing but no......it wasn't Oakland … it was AUCKLAND, she was on the same flight as me!
It was 30th October and I had been in North America for 10 wonderful, eventful weeks. I had hitched up the Eastern Seaboard, driven across Canada, hitched down The West Coast and flown to Hawaii. Now I was about to lose a day and fly to New Zealand and find what fate had in store for me there. Standing at the Check-in desk with Teeny, the question was “Smoking or Non-smoking section?” I said “Smoking”, Teeny said “Non-smoking”... we compromised on “Non-smoking”.
I had had a bit of a cough/chest infection for a couple of weeks so I had cut down my smoking to a mere 3 or 5 cigarettes a day. I made a decision that I would go cold turkey and stop smoking. Later, on the flight I crushed up my remaining pack of cigarettes and left them in the garbage. From now on I was a NON-SMOKER... And boy how much I hate the habit now. Ex-Smokers are always the worst they say!
So we got on the Continental Flight Honalulu-Auckland together, had 11 hours, two meals, several drinks and time to get to know each other before Auckland. Flying into a new day, a new month, a new country, a new hemisphere of the world. I can recall the sunrise we were flying into across the Pacific Ocean, it seemed to last for hundreds of miles … and New Zealand was at the end of it.
Little did I know then how much I would LOVE IT.
We got stopped for speeding. Me once and Sally once, however our good luck held out and when confronted with a UK driving licence the police let us off with a warning. TWICE.........
God...The Prairies where you can drive all day and hardly see a change of scenery. We drove from Winnepeg, Manitoba to the outskirts of Edmonton in one day, almost 1,000kms. Finding where my friends Penny & Jack lived was not easy. We had to phone for directions several times. Their home was in the backwoods and “Lifestyle acreages” of an area called Sherwood Park. Penny had studied in Liverpool and was a friend of a friend, who I'd met a couple of times, but she was kind enough to invite us to stay. She and her architect husband had designed and built their house, but I have never yet had so much trouble finding a place. Instructions like drive 3 miles east and two miles north, and look out for the Rural Postboxes mean very little when it's night, dark and pouring with rain. There were no pavements, street lights, pubs or landmarks and most houses were well back from the road. Only the occasional light from a house could be seen from the road. Roll on the invention of the Sat Nav, but even then I doubt it would penetrate Sherwood Park!
Sadly Sherwood Park could only be an overnight stop, the terms of our Auto-Driveaway car meant we had to keep pushing on. We headed south for Calgary where we managed a few hours sightseeing and a trip up the Calgary Tower. Then west and on to Banff. We took the cable car up Sulphur Mountain but all the photos I have show little but low, grey cloud and mist.
There must be something about Banff because I bumped into a couple I knew from Liverpool who were on holiday there. Six years earlier I had been sitting in a coffee shop there and saw a figure go past the window. I said “That looks like Allan Earl” to my friend John. I rushed out of the café and indeed found Allan Earl, a friend and former school mate from Alnwick! He too had been picking tobacco by the shores of Lake Erie in the Summer of '74 so I did know he was in Canada. Little did I know that this would be the first of several cases of coincidence or serendipity during the trip.
The weather continued to spoil sight-seeing and photographs, but didn't dampen the spirits too much. We viewed Mount Revelstoke, Glacier National Park and caught occasional glimpses of the mighty Rockie Mountain peaks. Driving off from one overnight stop in the early morning we found Elk eating their breakfast of grass from manicured lawns and council reserves. We took in the spectacular scenery, visited Lake Louise and............. headed ever westwards.
Hazel had known that she wouldn't have the money to travel on from the West Coast with me and she and Sally decided to go fruit picking in the Okanagen area of British Columbia while I drove on to Vancouver, picking up the occasional hitch-hiker along the way. The outskirts of every town or city found a crop of hitch-hikers vying for a lift, but one sticks in the mind. A chap with surfboard and boardshorts and a sign that said optimistically HAWAII ! I cruised into Vancouver with two Germans; Jorge and Heidi and found the drop off point for the Pontiac. I'd clocked up 6,100kms, fortunately with no more than dirt and worn tyres to show for it.
Then the excellent Vancouver Youth Hostel was home for a few days and base for a spot of sight-seeing. It was good to be back. I'd spent a few days here in 1974. With several other travellers we took in some of what this west coast city had to offer. Gastown, Chinatown and the Capilano Suspension Bridge Park.
I spotted an advert for a concert by bluesman, folklorist & storyteller Roy Bookbinder and went to see him play. This guy was a brilliant guitarplayer and former student and friend of The Reverend Gary Davis. Small, mustachiod and hat-wearing, he cut quite a dash as he recounted tales of the early bluesmen, and in particular Pink Anderson who he was quite an authority on.He sang songs like “The Terraplane Blues”, “Police dog blues” and “Boweevil”.
Before the days of mobile phones, instant messaging, emails and texts, keeping up with friends and family meant writing frequent letters, aerogrammes, and postcards and hoping that when you went to GPO in a major city along the way that there would be a few letters waiting for you addressed “Poste Restante” or “General Delivery”. Then you could retire to a coffee shop for a good read and catch up with the news from home.
A visit to Victoria on Vancouver Island seemed like a good idea, and besides the Tsawwassan to Nanaimo ferry had had the best chowder I'd ever tasted, I hoped it would still be as good as the last time six years earlier. It was never difficult to make friends at hostels and find people to go sight-seeing with, or out for a meal or drink. Victoria is a lovely city, and those red double-decker buses seemed strangely familiar. I found Jorge & Heidi there too and we did some sight-seeing - The Capitol Buildings, The Waterfront and a trip out-of-town to see the excellent Butchard Gardens, which were as beautiful as ever.
Back in Vancouver a few days later, a postcard on the notice board at the hostel found me a young lady called Sue who wanted to hitch to San Francisco as well. However, a bus over the border into the US seemed a sensible thing to do first. Further down the road in Washington state we passed through a cutting in a “lunar landscape” where the sea of lava from the eruption of Mount Helen's had covered the highway a few months before. The eruption of Mt St Helens in May 1980 had been big news around the world as it was the biggest American mainland volcanic eruption since 1915.
A variety of lifts down the West Coast route took us the 1,500 kms to San Francisco via the Redwood Highway. Driving through the night we arrived at The Golden Gateway Bridge in the early morning. Ah San Francisco...beautiful and crazy. Life lived vicariously on the San Andreas fault-line.
I was lucky enough to have three contacts / friends here; another Bonnie who I'd met on a previous trip, Neil O'Neill, her former partner, (a Scotsman from Glasgow) and Dave, a temporary resident on a two year contract. I also had to collect a letter containing a very important cheque and get it cashed. This was my cashed-up superannuation from almost 5 years working for Liverpool City Council. This would enable me to buy an onward ticket from the USA to New Zealand. Getting the cheque cashed proved a long slow process and took almost two weeks. How amazing we can now send money around the World at the press of a button. I didn't even have a credit card back then! How did I survive, oh yes - travellers checks and American Express Offices.
Bonnie was a would be actress and drama student, and a rich man's daughter with a trust fund. She owned a very nice house on Buena Vista Tce, Haight-Asbury. Graham Nash of The Hollies and Crosby-Stills-Nash & Young had lived over the road. But Bonnie was a strange host, not rising 'til almost mid-day and wouldn't let me use the kitchen when I'd been up for hours. However, we did get out for a day and I found myself in a Sausalito waterfront bar drinking an expensive Newcastle Brown Ale that must have come half-way around the world.
I checked the Youth Hostel noticeboard a few times and found a couple of British guys trying to find a driver over 25 to share a car rental to go to Yosemite. I fitted the description and met Pete & Bill who had been selling ice cream in the mid-west for the summer. We hired a compact car and headed inland with only a couple of stops to sample wines at some vineyards. Pete & Bill had some camping equipment so we were able to camp at Lower River campground. We spent a couple of days walking in the area, did a small part of the John Muir trail, visited Bridal Veil and Nevada Falls. It was mid-October by now and the temperatures were noticeably cooler; we had a dusting of snow one night. Warnings about bears were everywhere. Not leaving refuse, what to do with food in campground etc, but we never saw one. However, driving out of the campground in search of a pizza one night we saw several timber wolves prowling around. They didn't warn us about those!
Then back to San Fran and I contacted Neil O'Neill over on the Berkeley side of The Bay area. He was going horse riding with his friend Jeannie in Marin County. Did I want to come?. “Err, I've never ridden a horse” … ”Come on, You'll be fine.”...and I was. They picked me up at the BART station.
We had a sublime horse ride along the beach as the sun went down. This was followed by a very drunken night at an Irish pub called “The Starry Plough”, the sort of pub where they used to collect dollars for the IRA. I thought “I hope they don't know I'm English”.
Next morning while I was standing at the sink getting a much needed drink of water in my underpants, I met Neil's new partner Melissa! She handed me a couple of painkillers and some vitamins and gave me a knowing smile. I liked her immediately!
A few days later I hitched south to Seaside, near Carmel / Monterrey while the bank was still trying to sort out my cheque and exchange it for US dollars. However, all was not well with my bowels.....I'm sure I had CAMPYLOBACTER from one too many fast-food meals out. My friends Dan & Pat were very understanding and wonderful hosts, as they had been several years earlier. Once I felt better we went to Carmel Mission where there is a commemorative plaque to a SIR HARRY DOWNIE.....wonder who was? Maybe a distant relative.
A few days later I was back in SF and staying with Dave from the UK and finally I had my money sorted and the means to buy my onward flights. San Francisco-Honolulu-Auckland-Sydney on US carrier CONTINENTAL and a week in the sunshine of Hawaii. The main Waikiki Beach Hostel was a real international cross roads, Aussies and Kiwis flying to the U.S and Europe mixing with Europeans flying “Down -Under”. Information, job leads, names & addresses were freely exchanged.
Every morning that week a delegation of international hostelers would walk down-town to Waikiki Beach to one of the big hotels offering an “All you can eat breakfast buffet”... and there we would stay, until the staff turfed us out in order to set up for lunch. We'd eat all sorts of fresh tropical fruits - papaya, mango, pineapple - followed by fried breakfasts and almost endless toast and coffee. We put the world to rights, exchanging plans and experiences. One of the big topics of conversation was the forthcoming US election, only a week or so away which would see Ronald Regan elected as President.
I met two other Brits - Pete and Robin who had finished University in England and been working the summer in the States and were now heading to NZ & Australia as well. Also George from Sydney. We sat through a Timeshare meeting which held the promise of a very cheap car hire deal at the end of it.
The four of us had a day touring around the Island and as George was keeping the car for a another day or two, he was able to take me to the airport. Before we left we shouted around the hostel “Anyone need a lift to the Airport?” … A rather beautiful, blond German girl called “Teeny” said she did. She said she was going to, I thought... “Oakland”, near San Francisco, how disappointing but no......it wasn't Oakland … it was AUCKLAND, she was on the same flight as me!
It was 30th October and I had been in North America for 10 wonderful, eventful weeks. I had hitched up the Eastern Seaboard, driven across Canada, hitched down The West Coast and flown to Hawaii. Now I was about to lose a day and fly to New Zealand and find what fate had in store for me there. Standing at the Check-in desk with Teeny, the question was “Smoking or Non-smoking section?” I said “Smoking”, Teeny said “Non-smoking”... we compromised on “Non-smoking”.
I had had a bit of a cough/chest infection for a couple of weeks so I had cut down my smoking to a mere 3 or 5 cigarettes a day. I made a decision that I would go cold turkey and stop smoking. Later, on the flight I crushed up my remaining pack of cigarettes and left them in the garbage. From now on I was a NON-SMOKER... And boy how much I hate the habit now. Ex-Smokers are always the worst they say!
So we got on the Continental Flight Honalulu-Auckland together, had 11 hours, two meals, several drinks and time to get to know each other before Auckland. Flying into a new day, a new month, a new country, a new hemisphere of the world. I can recall the sunrise we were flying into across the Pacific Ocean, it seemed to last for hundreds of miles … and New Zealand was at the end of it.
Little did I know then how much I would LOVE IT.