Day Fourteen - Travelling to New York

Today was a fairly uneventful day as we spent all of it travelling in some way or another. We packed up all our stuff and said goodbye to Vegas and headed back to LA – a 5 hour drive, followed by a 3 hour airport wait, followed by a 5 hour flight to New York.

As not much happened today I thought I’d share some of my observations of America so far, liberally sprinkled with some whinging and ranting as I’m over today.

American…..

…Airlines is shit. Where do I begin? Could it be with the seats right at the back next to the toilets so all you can hear is flushing every two minutes (plus the occasional waft of urine). If it’s not the flushing, it’s the “flight attendants” working hard and chatting about basketball or their child’s latest school achievement or some other drivel. They also charge for everything. It was approximately –2C on the plane and they conveniently charge $8 for a blanket. Food has to be purchased also. You get one complimentary drink so Jo opts for an Orange Juice. When the lady offers me something, I have to decide if I want tepid OJ or OJ with ice which would render the actual drink volume to about ¼ of an orange. I’m surprised they didn’t charge us for our oxygen usage or perhaps apply a seat tax or something other rip off. Top cap it off, the “movie” of the day (on communal strain-your-neck-style TV) is that cinematic triumph “Alvin and the Chipmunks”. Dear god.

...people seem to think that the indicator in a car is either a) entirely optional b) there for decoration or c) I thought it was the windscreen wiper. This makes driving in America not unlike Super Mario Kart except instead of Luigi screaming past you unannounced at 85mph it’s some bloke in a Ford Humungous or some other beastly vehicle. He’ll cut right in front of you and then brake for no reason, causing you to quickly change lanes and cut up some other poor bastard. Then Ford Man will then accelerate as quickly as he braked, meaning your lane change was completely pointless. This went on for 5 hours today.

…advertising is shameless. It’s not just the adverts themselves; it’s the way that the advertising companies use every trick in the book and pray on your fears to sell absolutely anything. Some such examples include:

• 1-800 GET-THIN (actual number) advertising the delights of Lab-band surgery. Oh yes, that quick and painless solution with zero consequences, why didn’t I think of that?
• Background Checks. Yes, adverts for background checks. Queue advert of pregnant woman, clutching her tummy and declaring “No-one is coming into my home without a background check!”. Yes indeed, god forbid.
• The arm weight thing that shakes and looks rude. Honestly, does anyone believe this crap? All these shiny, happy women gleefully pinching their tight triceps, and all thanks to shaking this weird weight thing for 6 minutes a day. Honestly
• And my all-time favourite - a flashing sign outside a showroom selling motor homes – and I kid you not – proudly displaying “Let’s believe something good can happen – an RV is the best form of marriage counselling”. MARRIAGE COUNSELLING. Sweet Jesus.

…food choices are limited at best. Particularly if you are on the road. I believe I’d be correct in saying there are precisely 3 types of cuisine available when travelling; American, Mexican & Tex-Mex (blend of American & Mexican). There are also only 8 chains that seem to have the road-side catering contract in America. Our food consumption today consisted of; filter coffee, a chicken burrito, some frozen yoghurt, 1 banana, some almonds. Not exactly Conde Nast Gourmet Traveller is it. We discovered that once off the road, things don’t improve with LAX a prime example. A terminal of probably 9 gates the food outlets consisted of: TWO Starbucks (two! That’s like 1 per 12 people), Chili’s (Mexican-esqe), On the Border (Mexican), a place selling pastries and the newsagents. Well done Los Angeles, such a coup for quality how ever did you manage it?

….Gas stations are the work of the devil. It’s the most inconsistent experience you’ll ever have – some places you pay up front for cash, some places for cash & cards, some places you can pay at the pump, some you can’t the list goes on. It makes every time unique and mysterious and you find yourself wondering “what secrets will unfold this time?” On our final fill up, after attempting to pay at the pump with my Visa (which has worked before) and it failing miserably I go in to see the ‘Attendant’. “How much do you want?” he asks me. I know I have to tell him a number but I’m feeling obnoxious and mildly childish so I say (with a hint of sarcasm) “I don’t know. I haven’t filled it up yet.” He just looks at me so I pluck out a number that will hopefully fill it up as we have to return it full and go back to the car. Now, follow this closely. I pick up the bowser thingy, put it in the car and squeeze the trigger. Sound familiar? This is how I’ve filled up with petrol on several hundred occasions before. It doesn’t work. Jo goes and tells the ‘Attendant’, he says to flick the clip or some such vague and useless instruction. Jo inevitably returns to him again, he then storms over and lifts UP the metal cradle thingy that the pump sits up and petrol flows freely. What sort of evil is this? This covert pump that works like NONE OTHER ON EARTH.

On the positive side, we’ve found Americans on the whole to be incredibly friendly, very inquisitive of accents (Jo only has to say Hi and someone will pipe up “Are you Australian?”), happy to help and are very courteous. It's a fantastic place to visit and all the places we've been are so different. But I still hate tipping.