The Road Trip of Road Trips
 Nevada, Arizona, Utah: Days: 12-16: 'When I hear y'alls accent, I just melt' Day 12: Feeling a little worse for wear, and half a stale doughnut later, we checked out of South Point after a quick dip in the pool. We picked up a salad each (detox needed) and Han stuggled to find a coke in Wholefoods...apparently they're not healthy..who knew? In fairness she was looking for diet, which was a step up from the lime coke she opted for a few days later... Hoover Damn was hot as hell (oh dear Han, you were meant to be monitoring these, not providing them...) and so we didn't stay too long. Long enough to be wowed by the enormity of the structure, and to be wooed by a charming albeit aged guard whose words have been immortalised in the subtitle of this diary entry. We eventually arrived at that famously historic town Flagstaff, although we wouldn't be able to tell you why as we arrived about 9 in the evening and left at 2:30am when we decided it was worth getting up for the 5:30am sunrise over the Grand Canyon. Day 13: Arizona, Grand Canyon. A looong day. Hannah kindly volunteered to drive in the morning. About an hour in, we heard a dull thunk that seemed to have originated on the front bumper. 'What was that?' asked Hannah, innocently, 'I don't know, but it went flying' came the response that has given us much entertainment ever since. Our sunrise was spectacular though the atmosphere was slightly marred by the loud and often dimwitted company we shared it with. An hour and a half later we peeled ourselves from our seats and went in search of caffeine. It took longer for the coffees to be made than for the sun to rise, thanks to an uninterested apprentice barista (she wasn't keen on learning how to make a latte, "not now"). After the trying coffee experience, Klara flatly refused to walk the whole ten minutes back to the car, opting instead for an awkward shuttle ride where we were the only passengers of a twitchy and rule enforcing bus lady. Sadly the geology museum wasn't open yet, (darn!) so we had breakfast and headed off to Utah where Klara was hoping to find a couple of husbands, whereas I was holding out for a cowboy, or a hero. The drive was beautiful, although it's safe to assume Klara didn't see much (her light snoring gave her away despite her attempts at fooling me by wearing her sunglasses). The lowest point of our journey so far was aptly yet cryptically encapsulated in the following wise words of a fortune cookie Klara recieved: "it can't rain all the time. It could be better, but it's good enough". The food was basically inedible. Consequently we left Page in a hurry, missing Lake Powell, only to regret it later when it was recommended as being on par with if not better than the Grand Canyon (you win some you lose some, in this case it was lose-lose combo with unpalatable sweet and sour pork thrown in the mix). Pariah campground, Kanab UT was to change our luck. We met some abrasive Australians, and some lovely Americans, indulged in delicious bbq'd steak and some corked Sancerre, delight. Day 14: Sean (one of thr above mentioned Americans) gave us the inside scoop on the surrounding parks: Bryce, Zion, and Arches, effectively planning our day for us. Bryce and Zion were... we seem to be running out of adjectives, so I will fall back on brilliant', an old trusty. Day 15: We drove across Utah which remains on the whole, the most beautiful state we've driven through, and set up camp in Archview resort Moab, UT. Which happened to be Sean's hometown, so we took him up on his offer of a drink and spent an enjoyable evening at Woody's (we aren't a hundred percent sure of the name, but we do remember Carmen, Tim, Robbie, Jimmy and "a thousand pardons" Matt). Day 16: We had a full day, spending the first half rafting on the Colorado rier, where we were very much looked after by Canyon Voyage Adventures (feel free to pay us for thr advertisement). The second half was equally impressive, taking in the sunset at Delicate Arch, and driving past rock formations that seemingly defy the laws of physics, all to the soundtrack of the hilarious Eddie Izzard (seriously, we should be getting paid for this).
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Diary Photos
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