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The Odyssey (part I)

Tuesday 10 August/Wednesday 11th August 2004

California! Here I come!!

When the wintry winds start blowing, And the snow is starting in to fall,
Then my eyes turn westward, knowing That's the place I love the best of all.
California, I've been blue, Since I've been away from you
I can't wait til I get going, Even now I'm starting in to call, Oh,

California, here I come, Right back where I started from.
Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring,
Each morning at dawning, Birdies sing an' ev'rything.
A sunkist miss said, "Don't be late," That's why I can hardly wait!
Open up that Golden Gate, California, here I come.

California, here I come, Right back where I started from.
Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring,
Each morning at dawning, Birdies sing an' ev'rything.
A sunkist miss said, "Don't be late," That's why I can hardly wait!
Open up that Golden Gate, California, here I come.

California, here I come, Right Back where I started from.
Where bowers of flowers bloom in the spring,
Each morning at dawning, Birdies sing an' ev'rything.
A sunkist miss said, "Don't be late," That's why I can hardly wait!
Open up that Golden Gate, California, here I come.

We arrived at San Francisco International Airport in the early hours of Wednesday August 11th 2004 after getting "bumped" off our programmed direct flight to San Francisco from Frankfurt, Germany, the previous day. As standby passengers we had no preferential treatment and had to wait several hours both at Frankfurt for a flight to Washington DC., and then again at Dulles until around midnight on the 10th. As the aircraft took off from Dulles, I looked eagerly to see if I could catch a glimpse of some of the obvious landmarks that I assumed would be floodlit, but there was nothing to see; the runway and climb-away were not aligned for it.

There was not much to see outside the aircraft at night in any case, and I soon drifted off to sleep. I awoke sometime around 02:15 and looking out of the window I could see far off to the north-west the glow from a large city. Taking into account our general direction and the time lapse since take-off, I could imagine it to be none other than Sacramento and told Elisabeth that if indeed it was, then we should very shortly be starting our descent to San Francisco. The words were hardly out of my mouth when I felt the power settings change and sure enough we began to descend.

Coming in over the Bay was exactly as I had imagined it would be from poring over the maps and aerial photos for weeks on end: I knew where to look to locate Hayward (where I hoped we would get a drive-away car for at least part of our cross-country journey to Muncie IN), and further north, Oakland. Almost beneath us was the San Mateo bridge and further north, the Bay bridge - both easily visible against the blackness of the water, with the lights strung along their length. It was a straight-in approach on Runway 28 and I had arrived in the United States of America! (Dulles had been too much of a "transit" sensation with no real feeling of contact with the country).

The first thing that struck me with surprise was that in the United States one actually has to pay for the use of an airport baggage cart; I have never met that before in the several countries I have been fortunate enough to visit. We checked the hotel/motel advert board, chose one that seemed likely, phoned them and reserved a room. The cab-driver made a great pretence of not knowing where it was in spite of the fact that it was quite close to the airport and one of a country-wide chain. Having been for many years a cab-driver in London, I guessed he wanted the much longer journey into town but we were so tired after virtually 30 hours non-stop travel, that the hassle proved too much and we decided to go to the Holiday Inn on Kearney, where Sophie had arrived from her own flight earlier that day - (or was it yesterday?). She had arranged beds for us in her own room but it was so very late - around 03:15 - that we didn't want to disturb her so we booked our own room.

A few hours later at about 06:30 I awoke and looked out of our south-facing 19th floor window at San Francisco in the daylight: the near-by taller buildings were shrouded in mist and their tops disappeared, unseen, into the heavens. I filmed for a few minutes noticing that some of the roofs were marked with oriental designs of one sort or another. Exactly what they depicted I don't know - maybe even some kind of games square. The shop-fronts far below also had Chinese script on the facias and clearly we were in, or on the fringes of Chinatown, as I already knew from the maps.

A little later we decided to go for a walk around and started to make our way northwards, thinking, perhaps to get as far as Fisherman's Wharf. However, our lingering fatigue was too much for us and we turned back. After a while in the lobby, I saw Sophie at the desk. We had an excited reunion and went for breakfast. Later, in Sophie's room she told us there was a message for me on the mobile that Eric had provided us with and I couldn't for the moment figure out who on earth it could be leaving messages for me on a mobile in the United States! It was the car office in Hayward: they had a car that needed to be delivered to Atlanta Georgia: would I be interested? Would I be interested??? What kind of a question was that? Here we were only a few hours in the U.S and already we had a car to take us virtually the whole way to our destination! I immediately replied to the message and delightedly accepted the offer. I was sure that - compared to the total distance involved - the problem of getting from Atlanta to Muncie would easily be solved.

I asked at the desk for the best way to get to Hayward and as a result began to learn a little about the transport systems available - the Bart, for instance. I got a street map of San Francisco from the concierge and discovered that the nearest station was near Drumm Street on Market, a 10 minute walk away (see the small magenta rectangle I have placed on the map).


So off we went, walking slowly, enjoying the sights and sounds of America - for me, the first time! Quite a few of the buildings, at first sight, seemed rather ostentatious - not in the Las Vegas glitzy sense (as I was to see later), but more in an ornate, sort of almost-Baroque, style. It took me a while to realise that I was looking at a real attempt to recreate an earlier era, perhaps from the late 19th century, before the 'quake, and - with some clearly modern designs as exceptions - I thought with considerable success! Look at this (poorly photographed) example......

Look at the upper stories, just below the roof level.

I also got my first sight (and film clip) of the legendary San Francisco street cars!!

At the station, the ticket machine rather defeated us and we asked for assistance from a young lady in front of us. Armed with our tickets we awaited our train after getting more help from a nearby passenger, so as not to end up in Oakland - or New York! At Hayward, we got off and started asking directions to the address of the transport office. Again defeated, I phoned the office from the mobile and my contact very kindly agreed to come and pick us up - which he did. So it was, that about 45 minutes later, we drove out of the office lot with an excellent vehicle to drive all the way to Atlanta - NOT to be delivered BEFORE 20th August!! Given the itinerary I had originally programmed and estimated, we had sufficient time to get to Atlanta and enjoy some minimal sight-seeing along the way - nothing exaggerated and extensive or overloaded - but pleasant for a first time trip.

So, here I was, driving a car for the first time in the United States, gradually adjusting myself to the traffic flow with its different dynamics to that of Israel, France, England, Thailand and Germany. We drove north on Highway 80, crossing the Bay Bridge and turning off onto Fremont to get back to the hotel to pick up our bags. From there, since the day was progressing - it was now late afternoon and we knew we would have to stay another night in order to see the very few locations I had set my heart on - we drove south and easily found the motel that we had foresaken the previous night. We checked in and called it a day. At that point in time we expected to wait another day for Eric, who would be arriving on his flight and it would be an opportunity to see him. Also, I had no intention of driving in the dark and missing scenery - that's what I was here for, after all! And finally - the company rules (quite correctly) forbade me from driving after dark.

Thursday 12th August 2004


In the event, the following morning, we decided not to wait for Eric's arrival after all because that would have meant yet another overnight in San Francisco, and for that we really didn't have time. So after breakfast, we set off on our journeys.

Our first stop was the "Hills of Eternity" Jewish cemetery on El Camino Real and that, too, was easy to find after all my map-gazing. There, with help from the office - and a convenient map of the cemetery for other tourists and "wild-west fans", we found the grave of Wyatt Earp and Josephine....in a place of death and burial, a legend had - for me - come alive.

After paying our respects and lighting a memorial candle for them - especially Josie who was indeed Jewish - we continued north and found Fisherman's Wharf and an "unofficial" parking spot right up front on one of the piers, where I could film Alcatraz and The Golden Gate from an excellent vantage spot. I know I could have done much better with the Golden Gate by getting very much closer and also at that time of the day it was shrouded in mist, but I was conscious that we had to get all the way to Los Angeles before nightfall and this would be my first long-distance drive in the U.S. and I didn't want to leave things to chance. In any case - given health and strength and good fortune AND the Grace of God - I will be back!!

So picking up the IH 101, we began our journey south again, dropping off an all-important note for Eric against his arrival at the Holiday Inn, passing our motel of the night before and continuing on southwards, via San Jose. Why the IH 101 and not the faster and recommended IH5? - Well I had planned on trying to visit some acquaintances in Thousand Oaks, which would otherwise have meant considerable manoeuvring had I been on the IH 5 and in any case I thought the drive would be more pleasant "along the coast road". I was quite pleased to find that a lot of my topo map-reading had been quite accurate and the countryside very much as I had evaluated it. As we approached King City we stopped at a Kentucky Fried Chicken for lunch.

A little later, I noticed we were getting low on gas and I used a road-side emergency phone to locate my nearest gas-station. The drive through the coastal towns from Santa Maria onwards through Santa Monica, Santa Barbara, etc., was very pretty; the mountains off to the north gorgeous in the now setting sun: it had been a beautiful sunny day. However, by the time we reached the direct vicinity of Los Angeles it was getting dark, traffic was building up and navigation - reading turn-offs, etc., early enough to take effective action and get in the correct lane without hesitation, became difficult and even dangerous and frustrating for other drivers, efficiently familiar with their route, so eventually I had to turn off and guess my way into Los Angeles proper. Only after asking advice of several people - including a wonderful gas-station attendant who not only directed us efficiently but also checked my wheels and put some air in without being asked - did we get within striking distance of our destination of South Spalding in Beverley Hills. At that point, we called our cousin on the mobile and we were close enough for her to "talk us down" in "real-time"; in less than ten minutes, we were there.

The red star should be placed south of W. Olympic, just at the junction of Shirley Place.

Friday 13th August 2004

Our first morning in Los Angeles and after breakfast, Sonia helped us with directions to the Hillside Cemetery. Even so, it proved somewhat difficult and we had to ask for directions on two further occasions - once from a local police station and again from a passer-by, but at last we got there and I could see the conspicuous structure of Al Jolson's burial place from a distance, easily recognizable from the web site photos. We parked the car and spent about 30-40 minutes paying our respects and taking a few photos and clips. I admit to being quite moved by the whole thing - after all I have been a devoted life-long fan of Al!

Ev'ry thing seem lovely, When you start to roam.
The birds are singing the day that you stray, But wait until you are further away.
Things won't be so lovely, When you're all alone,
Here's what you'll keep saying, When you're far from home.

Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
The sun shines East, the sun shines West,
But I've just learned where the sun shines best.
Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
My heart strings are tangled around Alabamy.
I'm a comin', sorry that I made you wait.
I'm a comin', hope and pray I'm not too late.
Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles my Ma-ammy.
Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles my Ma-ammy.

We all start our travels, Searching for a friend.
If you went searching down deep in your mind, You know you just left the best pal behind.
After all our travels, Where do we all wend,
Back home to our first love, At the journey's end.

Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
The sun shines East, the sun shines West,
But I've just learned where the sun shines best.
Ma-ammy, Ma-ammy,
My heart strings are tangled around Alabamy.
I'm a comin', sorry that I made you wait.
I'm a comin', hope and pray I'm not too late.
Ma-ammy, Ma-mmy,
I'd walk a million miles for one of your smiles my Ma-ammy.

In the afternoon we went to Grauman's Chinese Theatre and as we turned onto the famous Hollywood Boulevard there, in front of us parked on the road-side was an unmistakeable red London bus! At first I really thought that it was a functioning one, brought over perhaps by a special tourist group possibly as a gimmick. But then I realised that, although gimmick it certainly was, it was quite local and regular having been bought from the London Transport and now being used by some local agency or other for sightseeing trips. But how nice it was for me to see all the London names on the bus familiar to me from my years in London: Oxford Circus, Regent Street, Edgware Road, etc.!

Parking the car - legally, this time - we walked along to Grauman's and I began enjoying myself filming all those paving stones that I had heard so much about with all the names so well known to me. Again I got busy with the video, filming as much as I could of all the names I remember from my growing-up years.

One of the local guides or a promoter of some sort, engaged the audience in a sort of quiz and one of the questions he asked was - "Can anyone name one of the two horses mentioned here?" Quick as a flash I called out "Trigger" - and won a small prize. A short while later it occurred to me that I had publicly announced my age in a big way!! It was then that another amusing incident occurred: I had to search for quite some time to find Al Jolson's mark and just as I started filming it a young lady in front of me stepped backwards on to the paving stone. I asked her politely if she wouldn't mind moving slightly and as she did so, she glanced down curiously to see who it was. I quickly whispered prophetically to Elisabeth: "Al Jolson? Who's Al Jolson?" The girl who had definitely NOT heard me, said to her friend : "Al Jolson? Who's Al Jolson?" I couldn't help laughing. Ah, well - Sic transit gloria mundi!!!

I did enjoy driving around Los Angeles and seeing all the famous street names up................... In the evening we tried to get the video on screen, but Sonia's equipment is so complicated that we just couldn't manage it, so we had to make do with just the small camera screen. However we DID discover, that of all things, I had managed to make a mess of part of the film and it just happened to be the section at Grauman's showing Al Jolson's signature, so clearly we would have to go back and do it again!!

We spent the rest of the evening at home chatting and resting. It was Friday, so Sonia laid a Sabbath table and I made Kiddush for the group of us which included a friend of hers and her younger son Colin.

Saturday 14th August 2004

In the morning we went to Universal Studios. I admit frankly that I thought it a bit of a rip-off, thinking we would still have to pay for various activities once we were inside. However I soon realised I was mistaken and as time went by found much to enjoy and interest me. I found the ride round interesting but only in its later back-lot sections - the front-lot part didn't attract me too much. I enjoyed the back-lot with all the mock-ups and special effects - and best of all was the "Back to the Future" ride which really got me going! As an amateur pilot, I could appreciate the visual and induced physical sensations very much. The other very nostalgic exhibit was the Lucille Ball museum which really brought back memories!
A little against my wishes, Elisabeth finally convinced me to do this (afterwards, I was pleased she did!)...............


On the way home we stopped again at Grauman's and leaving Elisabeth with the car in a "hidden" parking place for ten minutes, I rushed to the sidewalk and re-filmed the spoiled portion of Al Jolson's paving-block. There were also one or two other "contributions" that I had missed the first time around. We spent the evening quietly, at home with Sonia.

Sunday 15th August 2004

This morning, we need to say our thanks and goodbyes to Sonia and begin our journey to Las Vegas..........It has been a wonderful visit in so many ways, socially, visually, nostalgically.....I found it childishly exciting - even at my advanced age - to be in places and see names that heretofore could only be seen through the vicarious eyes of the camera or the printed page.

At about 11:15 we said our farewells and again taking Sonia's instructions, picked up the IH 10 for 50-60 miles until we could pick up the IH 15 just beyond Ontario.

One of the big differences between urban driving in the States and other countries that I know, that impressed itself upon me as a professional driver, was the excellent idea of putting the crossing street names high up ACROSS the road ahead of the intersections, so that drivers could see well-ahead of time what the next intersection was, making it totally unnecessary to slow up and check awkwardly placed signs only when arriving at the junction: Other countries - PLEASE COPY! I found the highways and their signposting excellent for driving as well with large clear lettering and - once I got used to the different symbols for state, local and interstate highways - they also made long-distance driving very easy. I was amazed at the sheer size of the cross-country trucking rigs - and the speed at which they drive (sometimes under hazardous conditions - and I am no slouch, believe me!). One thing I did NOT like is the (apparently) accepted habit of passing on the near side. In the two countries where I do 90% of my driving - Israel and Great Britain - this is considered extremely dangerous and strictly forbidden by law. On the other hand, I found the American driver well disciplined and ready to give way most of the time, something which rarely happens in Israel, where a well-established, educated road culture is very much lacking and sorely needed.

The journey was picturesque - as I hoped and expected it to be with many views of mountain ranges. At some point along the road, I don't recall where, we stopped at a Ritchie's Diner for a lunch and I was amazed at the quantity and quality of the food for which we paid only about $15-16! The service provided by a very pleasant young woman was also excellent.

There was one particularly long, gradual climb, I think somewhere beyond Barstow, that I only noticed because the car was a bit sluggish, which topped out at 4,000 feet. I had missed that contour on my maps seeing only the 3,000 feet line during the previous weeks. And so it was we eventually crossed the State Line into Nevada - another "first" for me! When we reached the immediate outskirts of Las Vegas, I decided to pull off the highway just to recheck my entry into the city. Unfortunately, I stopped about 20-30 yards too far down the road and found myself on the slip road off the highway with no possibility of getting safely back on, so with no alternative I continued on and saw the highway gradually taking me on a long curve round to the west, instead of north. It was about 1 - 1 1/2 miles before I could turn right and try to make my way back. This time, however, it worked out well without me having to stop and ask for directions: I was on Decatur and checking my map, I could see that I only had to keep going as far as Highway 95 and then turn east (I should have approached it by continuing along the IH 15 and turning west). We were only minutes away from our destination and it was easy to find with no outside help.

Michelle was out at work and John had prepared a nice steak dinner for us. A little later he suggested we go into town and meet Michelle at work. This was my first look at downtown Las Vegas - "The Strip" (everything was a "first" for me!!). The architecture was as fabulous as it was amazing; one can only wonder at the conceptions and the cost of such buildings. Ostentatious and pretentious they may well be, but their magnificence cannot be ignored. I am still uncertain - eight months later, whether in fact, I like them or not!!!

We walked through the building to Michelle's place of work only to discover that because she was expecting us, she had left work early and gone home, so we had crossed each other on the way.......We went all the way back - about 15-20 minutes by car, and after excited greetings (Michelle had not seen her mother for two years) and we two being introduced to each other, we sat around chatting for a while before dropping into bed.

Monday 16th August 2004

Elisabeth's birthday today and Michelle and I found a pretext to go out on our own and look for some small gift to give her. The reason we chose was - as it happens - real: we needed a wall adapter so we could charge the battery of the video camera! We had a look round the house which I found very attractive - homes in the U.S can be made surprisingly good-looking for little money and in extremely pleasant surroundings. John and Michelle's home was no exception and what had originally been a garage attached to the front of the house, had been adapted and changed into a really cosy and attractive lounge with a log fire-place; they even had a good sized domestic swimming pool in the back yard. I filmed the house AND a sudden, violent thunderstorm that lasted about 15-20 minutes. We also discovered - at least so far as their TV was concerned - that we can't play-back our video....maybe that's what happened at Sonia's as well?

After a taco lunch John and Michelle took us down to The Strip where we visited the Venetian and had a good look round. The decor, simulating Venice INDOORS and with a real canal and gondoliers on the 6th floor, is breathtaking! After that we walked across to the Bellagio where they have what appears to be a permanent exhibition of Chihuly glass art in the foyer. This impressed me rather less since I saw Chihuly's work in Jerusalem two years ago and, while recognizing that it was certainly artistic creativeness - didn't like it very much. During the evening, I took my courage in both hands and had a gamble - just one!! I lost all of 25 cents (my limit!)!! Home-time and ready for bed.

Tuesday 17th August 2004

We took our leave of Michelle at 08:30 as she left for work. I checked the car, wiped the windows clean, said bye-bye to John and we were on our way. First stop the nearest gas-station to refuel. We made fairly good progress stopping for the first time just after Boulder City where a turn in the road gave us our first distant view of Lake Mead. Then, as we came off the actual Dam, I pulled illegally into a short driveway leading to the gates of some kind of maintenance installation area, stopped alongside a parked police car and sneakily crossed the sidewalk to film the downstream side of the Dam wall. Obviously I couldn't have done this had the officers been in their car! A couple of hundred yards further along the road, as the highway snaked its way up, was a series of convenient (free) parking lots for visitors with clear, unobstructed views and here, just where the Nevada/Arizona State line is, we stopped for a few minutes to take some more video shots before continuing on our way.

I was stunned by the magnificent views and the highways, generally - and how few vehicles were using them, either going the same way, or coming in the opposite direction. It was almost as if we had the entire road system to ourselves! It seemed to remain like that - apart from major urban areas - all through Arizona, New Mexico and the western part of Texas.

The area we were driving through was very dry with much scrub which seemed to go on forever - rather like the Arava area of the Negev, back home.

Somewhere along the highway - quite some ways down towards Phoenix - I overtook a truck and in doing so exceeded the permissible limit at that point. I took my time allowing the car to slow back to a speed closer to the legal limit but not - unfortunately - before being spotted by an Arizona Highway Patrol car coming the other way. I watched him very carefully in my mirror to see if he would turn back. He did! But he stayed out of sight well behind the truck I had overtaken, now about 400 yards behind me. I think maybe he was waiting to see if I would start speeding again, but I was too cautious, so he gave up waiting, pulled out, overtook the truck and signalled me to stop. I showed him all the documentation for the car, after being asked to step out of the car and walk away from it, while his partner kept Elisabeth engaged in conversation. I was a little tense because after all the vehicle was not mine and although the documentation was certainly in order, the owner may not have been available by phone to confirm my status and in any case, I'm not so sure she would have been able to confirm that any particular named person should be driving the car. However, those problems did not arise; the officer was kind enough not to isssue a traffic fine and let me off with a caution. The document he presented me with is now one of my mementos - "The Day I Was Stopped by the Arizona Highway Patrol"!! - and No! He did NOT look like Broderick Crawford!

At Phoenix we stopped for a snack at a quick-food place in town and rested for a short while before rejoining the highway. We continued on through Tucson as far as Benson where we turned south for Tombstone. I could feel myself getting excited at the prospect. We arrived at about 18:00, had a quick drive round, discovered that the main streets were closed and protected against the encroachment of vehicles. Elisabeth was very tired so we looked for a good motel, found one run by an Englishman, of all people (even though he did have the British flag flying upside down!). We booked a room, which was quite comfortable with two massive beds created out of rough-hewn logs. I left Elisabeth to have a shower while I impatiently insisted on driving back as close as possible to the historical areas and having a walk round. It really was something! To stand there in front of the O.K. Corral and remember the events that occurred there 120 years ago; to see the offices of the Tombstone Epitaph and C.P.Fry's studio, the boardwalk, the Birdcage theatre - and all the rest.

Wednesday 18th August 2004

The following morning, we drove to a nearby cafe for breakfast - delicious blueberry muffins and it was there that two significant facts hit us between the eyes! The first one was that nothing really interesting to see or do was open early in the morning: things only started happening around mid-morning or even later - like the re-enactment of the shoot-out. The Epitaph museum was not an early starter either. Our disappointment was intensified during breakfast when I took a good look at a large green-coloured wall-map of the U.S. hanging on the wall. It was one of those 3-D maps showing the topography as raised papiere-mâché areas. It was uncluttered with detail and had only a few major highways and cities marked and looking at it I suddenly realised our position. We had intended, of course, to follow the IH 10 from El Paso taking the southern route, via San Antonio to Pensacola, Navarre beach and then north to Indiana. This was the morning of the 18th August and we had to be in Atlanta two days hence! IMPOSSIBLE!! There was no way it could be done - not even if we did it non-stop without actually visiting the Alamo, without visiting Danielle at Navarre Beach, without Dayton and the Monkey Trial, without Tennessee and Alvin York's birthplace and memorials, without Abraham Lincoln's birthplace, etc. I had to come to the sad but inevitable decision that this time, we weren't going to make all our visits. I could see from this map just how much the southern route would add to our time and distance against just continuing straight across country on the IH 20 via Abilene, Dallas, Shreveport, Vicksburg, Birmingham and then directly into Atlanta. And so it was that we went sadly back to the motel, picked up our bags and drove to a convenient spot where we could legitimately park the car and walk round sightseeing whatever was possible of Tombstone.

It wasn't a completely 'lost' situation though. There was much of the ancient lore and history to see and imagine - the windows full of memorabilia - some genuine, lots of it gimmicky and touristy. There was (is) a terrific book shop there with much to offer and only strict budgetary restrictions stopped me from choosing any of the books that caught my eye. The original biography of Wyatt, that I had found in London, way back in the 1950's by Stuart Lake - today no longer considered reliable 'history', had long since fallen apart and had been long ago discarded. Among the points of real interest are the information notices set up at various places identifying where the more well-known incidents occurred, like the shooting of Marshall White, for example. Even Elisabeth, who is just about tolerant of and amused by my childish nostalgia and childhood heroes, entered into the spirit of the thing and at one point, while I was filming, she was walking along the sidewalk about 15 yards ahead of me and suddenly spun round firing imaginary pistols at me! We spent about 40 minutes just wandering around and then decided that we had best move on; it was a pity, but the hope that we will visit again kept the disappointment within bounds.

And then, just as we were driving out of town came something which had slipped my memory entirely. We passed a large sign advertising "Boot Hill" with a comment lower down saying something about a Jewish section to the graveyard. Even forgetting the Clantons and McLaurys - this was intriguing enough to stop for, so I backed up and parked the car in the entrance grounds. I'm so glad we did; it was no small compensation for our other 'lost' items to wander round the graveyard seeing some of the blackly humorous epitaphs inscribed there. In any case, as a tour guide I am well aware of the historical value of graveyards. We found the Jewish section which had a fairly modern dedicatory plaque put up by a local association ".....in Memory of the Jewish Pioneers and their Indian Friends."

Then shortly after that I found the burial place of the Clantons and McLaurys!

With that it really was time to move on and start the long, long haul eastwards to Atlanta Georgia! From Benson to the State line was not so far and pretty soon we were in New Mexico. The miles sped away and then we were approaching Las Cruces and crossing over into Texas and El Paso.

Somewhere down the road I began to notice freight trains. They seemed to be immensely long and just for kicks the next time I saw one just off to the north of the highway, I measured its length: it was nearly 1 1/2 miles from beginning to end! Are they all like that? There was also very clear evidence of the oil fields but somewhat less of the tall familiar derricks that everyone knows; more the rocker type and even then not as many as I thought there would be. Was I too far north on the IH 20 for that? Are the 'thousands upon thousands' of them that I expected to see further south, perhaps?

Life is not a highway strewn with flowers,
Still it holds a goodly share of bliss,
When the sun gives way to April showers,
Here's the point that you should never miss.

Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, It's raining violets,
And where you see clouds upon the hills,
You soon will see crowds of daffodils,
So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.

Though April showers may come your way,
They bring the flowers that bloom in May.
So if it's raining, have no regrets,
Because it isn't raining rain, you know, It's raining violets,
And where you see clouds upon the hills,
You soon will see crowds of daffodils,
So keep on looking for a blue bird, And list'ning for his song,
Whenever April showers come along.

There had been a little rain as the day wore on, some of it quite heavy - the clouds had been building up ahead of us for some time. But as we proceeded eastwards we were apparently moving into the weather pattern that wreaked havoc across the Carribean and the south eastern states last year. There were some really spectacularly heavy showers with thunder and lightning and on one occasion the rain was so very intense that I was unable to see in the fast fading light and actually had to stop for a minute or two. I was amazed at the drivers who managed to keep going. I reckon myself a fair driver with much experience and a constant and conscious attempt to maintain my skills over the years but I have to admit that for the first time in over fifty years of driving, I found myself unable to go on; I just couldn't see and I pulled over to the side and stopped the car - in itself a tricky manoeuvre since I couldn't even see adequately whether anyone was creeping up on my nearside.

After a few minutes, I decided to give it another try and with some perseverence managed to keep going. At one stage and for about ten or fifteen minutes I was travelling behind a truck and all I could see were his rear lights suspended in the darkening murk to keep me on track. There was a very real sense of fear that if I lost sight of those red lights I would be lost because there was just nothing to either side of me that I could see. Some of the problem was, of course, the tremendous spray he was throwing up on to my windscreen but I was between the Devil and the deep blue sea - drop back and lose sight of him, or stay where I was...?

The last of the daylight was disappearing and I was desperate to find a haven for the night. I have driven in genuine London "pea-soup" fogs in the years before 'clean' fuels became the law there; I have driven on ice and in snow - everything you can visualize and imagine - but nothing ever approached those 50 or 60 nightmare minutes in central-east Texas. About 65 miles short of Abilene, we found a Day's Inn at Colorado City and pulled off the road for the night hoping that somehow the weather would moderate just a little overnight. Our schedule was looking pretty tight but studying the map and trying to estimate times and distances I thought we could just about make it if we kept our stops down to the minimum.

Part II    Introduction