J is for Joshua trees - images of America

These interesting tree shaped plants were in flower when we visited.  The story is that they were named by Mormon settlers, and being steeped in stories from the bible, they named them after Joshua holding his arms up in prayer.

They have a strange beauty and I imagine on a moonlit night some could look very like a tall person, looming out of the darkness.

Watching me running around trying to get my phone high enough above my head to get a photo of the flowers must have been amusing for any onlookers! I really needed a ladder or telephoto lens (I wonder if they'll eventually make them for phones?)

Thankfully there weren't many people around, which is probably just as well as I'd decided to take the plunge and try driving through the Mojave Reserve. My logic went that it would be relatively safe - there were few animals around, and plants can be reliably trusted to stay where they are and not take it into their heads and run across the road!

We survived! The hire car survived! I managed to park on the side of the road in a very respectable manner. The big challenge was driving into a town ... with stoplights ... and daydreaming pedestrians with skittish children ... and needing to turn a corner - thank goodness there weren't any roundabouts!

.

I is for Insignificant - images of America

Tiny, almost insignificant spring flowers managing to survive in the desert

H is for Huge - images of America

I discovered the word small seems to have evaporated from the American vocabulary. When I asked for a small cup of coffee and indicated the size I wanted with hand signals I consistently received what I would refer to as huge. This is perplexing for a tourist. How does one order something in the line of food and beverages which is small?

There are enough chips in the meal below to feed a small army, and the burger, whilst scrumptious (even if there was no beetroot) would have been more than adequate for two hungry adults!

 Some trees are huge!

I'm the small figure behind the fence!

Huge fire scars

... the landscape is also huge

as are some strawberries

Cans of Aussie beer were not only larger than at home, in fact they were huge, and cheaper than is Oz. How can that be? Mind you it was Foster's which isn't one of our best ;-)

There is even a HUGE Marilyn Monroe, but she'll appear when we get to M!
.

G is for Guns - images of America

Gotta love my friends!

What's the first question I'm asked about my recent trip to the US?

I'd have expected something along the lines of "How was the training?"

or

"Did you have a good time?"

or even "How's the jet lag?"

But nooooooo, so far it's been "So, did you see lots of guns?"

Coming from a relatively well regulated country in regards to gun ownership, where in theory you need to be licensed to own one, it's difficult to relate to the passion surrounding gun ownership in the US. The perception here is that there guns are dropped carelessly into handbags, propped casually on the back seats of cars and generally left lying around ready for the nearest person with an anger issue to use at will. To be followed of course with an honest and wide eyed statement along the lines of "Gosh, how did that mass shooting happen?"

I've been told, "You need to understand, it's related to our rights." Hmm ... don't rights and responsibilities go hand in hand? However, in the spirit of attempting to bridge the gap I brought the subject up at dinner with some locals one night. I was introduced to the concept of hunting for food - not for pleasure. This man had been taught, as a child, to hunt and butcher a deer to supplement the family's food supplies - that I can understand though it's not common in Australia.

However, when we discussed if some restaurant patrons would have guns in their bags, the answer was a long, convoluted "yes". I don't pretend to understand the need for carrying a lethal weapon to dinner, I doubt I ever will. If you want to live dangerously, try the fugu! (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fugu)

I've often found that Terry Pratchett covers complex social topics in his books, and is able to explore the issue without an emotive overtone. In Men at Arms he introduces the first and only handheld firearm to Ankh-Morpork. The gonne has a strange allure and appears to have a mind of its own, there's the attraction of power. It wants to be used. It wants to kill ... not so dissimilar to what happens to some humans when they get their hands on one as far as I can see. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Men_at_Arms)

The only store we went in to where I felt distinctly uncomfortable and unwelcome was a small sporting goods store. Our binoculars had broken and this store had been recommended as the spot to replace them. The belligerent,  scowling owner was leaning heavily on a cabinet of guns, and displayed prominently on the wall behind were posters advertising assorted fundraising events for the NRA as well as slogans along the lines of "proud to be a gun owner,""my rights, my guns" etc etc etc.

We were clearly unwelcome even before we'd opened our mouths, and his attitude became more negative when we asked to see his meagre range of binoculars. Presumably, something in our looks or dress offended this man, but ... UGH. May Australia forever maintain strict laws regulating gun ownership! Our laws aren't perfect, people still get killed, but in my mind they're great.
...

A gift from my training buddies

G is also for Gambling which has nothing at all to do with games or fun and seems to be a way to anaesthetise the zombie-like people who stagger in and allow themselves to get super-glued to whatever they've sat on.  Nobody ever looks happy ... there must be some strange attraction that I'm missing.

G is also for Grow-suits, the practical little all-in-one garment for babies and toddlers. Here's some cute ones in camouflage patterns - which seems kind of odd - surely parents don't want their kiddies to blend into the undergrowth? Wouldn't it make them harder to find if they wander off? Wouldn't day-glo be safer?  I'm not convinced this is the best marketing idea out there, but presumably there's a market for them or there wouldn't be racks and racks of them.

.

F is for Flying - images of America

Travel to the United States aboard the flying kangaroo (aka QANTAS) isn't for anyone who gets twitchy after oh, around 7 hours cooped up next to coughing, farting, irritated adults, cuddling whinging, coughing, farting, screaming and/or vomiting toddlers. By the time you're nudging 10 hours it's become quite tedious. And at the 14 hour mark you've either entered a Zen state or ....

It's not fun, not even mildly entertaining, no matter how many movies you can watch without going stark raving mad. It's amazing how long you can make a meal last and how you can entertain yourself with the dinky pre-packed items before even that loses its appeal!

.....

Flying flags on private properties is something that is relatively rare in Australia. A few businesses might have an Australian flag out, the local council could have the state flag, the aboriginal flag and possibly the Australian, or a local flag flying, but you sometimes wonder if it's simply so they can have something to lower to half mast on sombre occasions.

Sometimes you'll see the flags of different countries flying, and know that the occupants of that home were born somewhere else. There could be a pirate flag on a beach hut, a footy team flag, but more commonly, nothing at all.





In the United States, flag flying appears to be the norm, not the exception. Some flags are large and attention grabbing, some small and tucked discretely into verandah posts. In my more jet lagged moments, I imagined some confused people could use the flag to remind themselves where they live. They might wake up in the morning and say, "Now, let's see, where am I?" "Hmm, I'll look out the window and see what flag is flying." "Oh, yes, of course, silly me, it's the United States! Thank goodness I had the forethought to put the flag out!" Or could it be along the lines of "Whew, thankfully I'm not in .... (insert name of undesirable country here), what a relief!"

As a patriotic expression showing that you're proud of your country, it's really rather lovely .... unless that is, if you choose not to have one fluttering in the breeze and some people assume that means you're not proud. That wouldn't be good at all.

.

E is for Emergency supplies - images of America

E is for emergency supplies, but it's also for energy, the kind generated from the thousands of wind turbines we saw in the Tehachapi Pass. Oh how I wish our government wasn't so antiagonistic towards these wonderful inventions. They make far less noise than a coal fired power station, create less pollution and illnesses (more about illness related to coal extraction and coal fired power stations here) and are strangely beautiful arrayed throughout the hills and valleys.

Watching the blades turning and seeing the shadows cast on the ground is mesmerising. Not good for a driver trying to concentrate on driving on the WRONG SIDE OF THE ROAD, but fine for a passenger desperately attempting to relax in what should be the driver's seat!

As for the Emergency supplies ... what else would a dinky-di Aussie tuck into her pack, but a few little sachets of Vegemite.

When foreign food has lost its charm, there's nothing like a cheese and vegemite sanga to warm the cockles of the heart, soothe the frazzled nerves and put all right with the world again!

.

D is for Death Valley - images of America

What image does the word desert conjure up in your mind?

An endless flat expanse of sand and scraggly plants?

 yellow rolling dunes?

a boring grey landscape devoid of life?

barren, rocky planes? or something else entirely?

I had no idea what to expect when we decided to visit Death Valley. I knew it was hot and dry, but what I hadn't expected was the huge range of rich colours, the wide variety of landscapes, the stark beauty and deep, deep silence of canyons, the wavelike ripples atop large hills as if the land had been scrunched up like a piece of stiff paper and discarded to catch the sun and create glorious shadows!

In short, it was magnificent. The kind of place you say, "Yes, I could go back there". But next time, I'd camp and gaze at the stars and wake to the rising sun hitting the peaks and making its way over the majestic landscape, changing it minute by vibrant minute.

I'd allow time to don a backpack and carry enough water for a decent walk. And coming from a land where skin cancer kills, I'll be aware that I'll stick out like a sore thumb, with my wide brimmed hat, long pants and sleeves, because I only have a one in three chance of not being diagnosed with skin cancer in the next few years, and covering up is cheap insurance!

 .

C is for coffee - images of America

A slightly tongue in cheek reflection on coffee, vegemite and two countries.

Americans and Aussies might speak a similar language, but when it comes to these two basics of life, we seem to be poles apart.

Aussies are often partial to Vegemite, the thick brown goo I've heard referred to as "disgusting" by Americans. It's wonderful stuff! A magical reviver when life is stressful, a useful condiment for scrambled eggs, (recipe here), a handy addition to stews and a flavourful enhancer in assorted exotic dishes. A mere scraping, nay a waft of the knife across a piece of buttered toast simply doesn't do the trick. Thick and tasty is the way to go! If you don't believe me, try it sometime. Wonderful stuff!

The same applies to coffee. Insipid, virtually tasteless brownish dishwater is a pale imitation of the real thing. Whether made in a motel room in desperation, or purchased by the gallon from a prominent chain and presented with a flourish in a paper cups as if it was manna from heaven, this dilute, namby-pamby liquid barely raises the heartbeat. To call it coffee is an insult to the beans, so carefully grown and transported, then roasted by the container-load in what seems to be a forgotten warehouse in the backblocks of the never never. Then (sacrilege) ground into a dusty powder and marketed as if it was the real thing.

Goodness gracious me, what are they thinking to then add insult to injury and present multi packaged sachets of a substance that looks, for all intents and purposes, like powdered melamine. Was this a joke?

No, no, no, no and NO! Coffee, real coffee, is made with tender loving care. Each cup nurtured attentively, encouraged to give the best from the freshly ground beans - ground for each customer as they wait. Individual attention is the key. Fresh water must come only from the purest of sources. 

Some like it unadulterated and intense - just one shot with no additions for those weaned on it from childhood. 

Others prefer a milky brew, a cappuccino - fresh milk, not that long life or low fat stuff - whipped into a frenzy by hissing steam until it swirls and foams into a dense, almost solid mass. The froth to be enjoyed by the spoonful ideally topped with a delicate sprinkling of freshly grated dark chocolate flakes. Swoon!

The joy of walking past one, two, three or more closely spaced coffee shops, slowing, pausing, inhaling delicately. Are the beans fresh? are they well roasted? what brand are they using? (The generic no-name brands aren't even registered by the nose), then checking -  are they using full cream milk? Or horror of horrors, some (gasp) shameful substitute? 

Oh, the pleasure of watching a professional barrista at work! They take their job seriously, after all this is business, and keeping your finicky customers happy is as important as the banter and quality of the crockery and cutlery. No paper cups and plastic spoons to be seen. That would be the kiss of death in this coffee shop 'dog eat dog' world.

Can you see that croissant back there? Delightfully flaky pastry! Individually, the flakes would waft into the ether if you had the temerity to blow on the wonderful structure. Yet, in its entirety, dense, heavy and coated with a generous layer of icing sugar, lovingly dusted just prior to being served. Full of almonds and almond meal - half is a succulent feast!

Is it possible for our cultures to meet and agree over these essentials of life, or are we doomed to be forever speaking a different language? The old song goes something like "you say tomayto, I say tomahto" but the object being discussed is the same. But the product named coffee and purchased in the US as such, is, sadly, worlds apart, and an Aussie craving a cappuccino is bound to be disappointed and left longing for the real thing and not a sad, pale, insipid imitation...

.........

BTW, for any Aussies visiting the west coast of the US and wanting to find accessible, drinkable coffee, Peet's isn't bad. They have outlets at Raley's supermarkets and the quality of the coffee, especially cappuccino, is closer to what we're used to than the more prominent chain. Don't get caught by assuming Maccas McCafe's are the same as here, they're not! Ours have adapted to local tastes and offer a wider variety of coffee and foods and generally have pretty good barristas. (I never thought I'd say something so supportive of Maccas - but give credit where it's due, they're good!)

.

Images of Reno - "The Biggest Little City in the World"

Reno:


A city known for drive-through weddings. Do people still feel a sham wedding is preferable to living together? No one around, so Monday mustn't be popular!





The lovely Truckee River gurgling along, rushing over rocks, crossed by pretty bridges. The perfect spot for sidewalk cafes, coffee vans, buskers and general community happenings, but totally devoid of pedestrians at 10 on a Monday morning. Could it be a public holiday and everyone is sleeping in?

Locals directed us to the BEST breakfast spot at Peg's Glorified Ham n Eggs. The service was fast, the food arrived quickly and was well presented, fresh and tasted great!!
- now for an Aussie barrista to set up business and provide the coffee to match!

Nobody this way either!

A climbing wall towers over what looks
like it should be a busy street, but it's devoid of traffic and pedestrians at 10am.

Where is everyone? Have some pesky aliens spirited everyone away?






Six bright, welcoming chairs are patiently waiting for customers. No one here either - perhaps evening is the busy time?












Interesting sculptures await tourists with cameras. We feel rather conspicuous and vaguely out of place sauntering around with no one else about.






And lastly, a hole in the wall shop with assorted poker machines crammed in the front sells great hamburgers and mounds of chips. Far too many for one person! This was a meal suitable for two, or perhaps three! Was it obvious that I completely misunderstood the name of the outlet? I thought I was being taken to "Offal, offal" or perhaps "Aweful offal" but nooooo, that darned accent got me yet again! It was called "Aweful aweful" and it didn't live up to its name :-)

I'd visited Reno to extend my professional skills in ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy). There's more about the course over at traverselife






.

A is for Aliens - images of America

Where would be we without a good alien story!? The USA does these extremely well, including laying out the welcome mat in the form of a beer advertisement at a casino just outside Death Valley - where else would an inquisitive alien land? I think they leave the overhead light on in case they arrive after dark!

Of course, we're not talking about the sort of aliens who are people very much like ourselves. People who are treated as criminals in Australia because they come from a different, often war torn country, and are shoved unceremoniously into a remote detention centre for years without hope of being released. No welcoming beer for them.

No, these are the sort of aliens who are truly fearsome, and who can execute acts that we can only dream about. Like maintaining the same pose in the corner of a store for eternity... gathering dust and not sneezing! That'd give the game away immediately!

What struck me most during my visit to Alien Fresh in Baker wasn't the fabulous alien posters, wonderful as they are! Or even the fascinating newspaper articles - of course the story must be true if it's been published in the paper ... mustn't it?

or the heavily defended "Peace Patrol" car, complete with moving aliens whose toxic green heads seemed to follow you around as you walked past (although maybe I was becoming a tad paranoid?)

but the implication that aliens were being processed to become jerky. Surely not! that's not particularly welcoming imho.

In the picture below you'll notice the cheerfully waving aliens atop the store. They seem welcoming. Don't be taken in! In hindsight I suspect they're luring tourists inside and processing them into jerky ... I'm confident that more people went into the store than exited. If anyone is missing a relative or two, you could start your search here.

Jerky is a taste I haven't managed to acquire, although I plucked up the courage to nibble warily on a piece which resulted in a screwed up face and muffled, choking response somewhat along the lines of "you've got to be joking, this isn't food, it's used shoe leather and it pongs". Perhaps if it was made out of aliens it would taste better, though I doubt it ;-)


.