The Music Plays On

 For those of you who don’t know, I’m Colin, Helen and Brian’s son. Julie has always been a part of my life. What I remember most from when I was younger is the piano. It always sat patiently in the corner of 225 Easter Road and would spring to life whenever she played it. There were always books of music around although I rarely saw her play from them – she just seemed to know all the notes.


In later years there was an empty space where the piano once sat. She could no longer play it. But what I remember most about the last years was a different kind of music that played on. I live three and half thousand miles away in New York City with my family. The distance is vast but it takes only seconds for a picture I post of my daughter Hatty to appear on Facebook and then to be printed out. I know that Julie treasured those pictures and took them with her to show people.


We are, no doubt, an unconventional family that could barely have been imagined when Julie was the age I am today. Yet Julie was one of our most powerful advocates. Once she told us that she carried a picture of J, Hatty and me so she could show people and tell them ‘this is Love’.


Now Julie herself is stilled and we will hear her voice no more. But I will always carry with me her love and so will my family. Her music of love and acceptance will keep on playing.

Confidentiality LA

My final stop on this California too was to be the great city of Los Angeles.  It is a long, tedious drive from San Diego along interstates that look much the same, but the final destination was somewhere special.  Dockweiler State Beach stands between the end of LAX airport and the Pacific Ocean.

It is by no means the prettiest campsite you will ever see.  It is just a large car park that has electric hookup, sewer and water but then it does not have to try to hard.  You step off the site and directly onto the beach.  What else do you need?

Hatty made several very good friends and we did not really see that much of her.  From early in the morning until the last light was fading over the horizon she was playing.

Since we were there for a few days I organized a few activities.  Matt humored me by accompanying me to see the USS Iowa.  I love visiting big ships and the US is that last place you can go on a real battleship.  Iowa was the lead ship of her class and fought in World War 2 before being reactivated for the Cold War (losing some of her conventional weapons for the cruise missiles).

Matt didn't seem quite as keen as me.

I still want to go on a Nimitz class super-carrier but that will have to wait.

The others spent their time on the beach and poor Ben caught rather too much of the sun.  He would have been better staying in Needles.  To alleviate the situation I proposed we go somewhere with air-conditioning.  There was a Dave & Buster's nearby and we could go play some arcade games.  It's a serious business.

For those who have not have the pleasure - typically the games at Dave & Buster's give you tickets which you can trade in for prizes.  I won't pretend we were all contributing as much but we did rather well in our ticket collection.

Harriet got a telescope out of this haul.

LA is a fantastic city, much maligned but full of life.  Where else could we have sat on a beautiful beach and watch the sun bid us all farewell.  The fires you see are from parties taking place on the beach.  I'm sure they were all enjoying their cases of sodas and back remedies.  Don't worry, our lips are sealed.

Sadly for me, it was back in First Class and off to New York.

Cats and Dogs

The rationale for San Diego was two-fold.  First, its climate is one of the most pleasant on earth and you would think would extinguish all memories of Needles (it did not).  Second it is home to the world-famous zoo.  I knew that there were cheetahs and that alone was enough.

It was a long drive from Palm Springs that took us through small towns and cities before we hit Southern California proper, with its sweeping, congested freeways.  Our KOA was one of the largest I have ever stayed on and though we were at the end of a row and passed by a lot of traffic it was still pretty nice.  There were two jumping pillows and it was full of kids.

I decided we needed something nice to eat and some decent wine so I took a trip alone to Whole Foods (Southern California is my spiritual home for a good reason).  I hate shopping, especially food shopping, but it was good to be back immersed in that culture that manages try-too-hard in a laid-back way.  San Francisco has all the culture (and the best wine you will ever find in a dive bar) but there is something in the whole oxymoronic nonsense that is Southern CA that I love.  I bought J sushi and myself (well all of us) some organic beef, chicken and a classy Prosecco.  It was slap bang in the middle of gay San Diego - no WeHo admittedly but still obviously a place full of noisy Pride and people for whom oenology was second nature).

We left early for the zoo and shook our heads at all the crazies jogging up and down hills in the heat  We found a parking spot that was not an electric vehicle charging station and bought our tickets.  Now, I had already found out about the 'Backstage Pass' but I wanted to ask whether or not it would include cheetahs.  The line was so long though and filled with morons so I just decided to buy a ticket from the machine and take my chances.

J stayed at the RV.  It meant he could have a rest day and look after Pippin.  The rest of us took a selfie as we waited for the tour.

It's a great zoo but I am going to concentrate on the Backstage Pass.  It's expensive - $105 on top of the entrance fee - but it is a lot cheaper than flying to Africa.  At noon Hatty and I waved bye to the others and went off to the show.

It's an intimate up-close experience with the animals (there were about 15 other people there).  It began when they brought out a Porcupine on a leash to see us.

So far so good - we got a photo opportunity with Porcupine too.

Next part was an interactive feeding session - with a Rhino.  You lay the vegetable slice on you open palm and then must lift it up to the roof of his mouth and pull out as he takes it.  It's a little bit disgusting if you are not a fan of drool so I was impressed that Hatty managed to do it (although not exactly concealing her distaste).

We got to pet the Rhino too - you are encourage to scratch it beneath its skin fold.

Next stop on the tour was feeding the Flamingos.  Flamingo food is dog kibble in a cup of water.  You hold it down low and they come along to feed.  It's a little intimidating when you are sitting down.

Next to the Flamingo enclosure was a zebra with a donkey.  They are sometimes part of the tour but it was a rest day for them.  Despite that they followed us carefully and it was clear that they wanted to be part of the show so our guide opened up the gate and let them do their bit (smiling and bowing).  

The reason for the two animals is that the zebra is tame.  They do not want to put it back with the general population of zebras so it spends its time with the donkey.  The donkey is domesticated and provides a bridge between the wild animal and people.  We will see this again later.

I was starting to worry now.  What if it was a rest day for the cheetah?  Still we carried on to the next exhibit to meet the wolf.  This was interactive part - we were to howl to encourage the wolf to join us but it remained unmoved.  All the howling you hear is the audience.

Although it did eventually pay off.

Our next visitor was a clouded leopard.  My heart sank because I thought that was going to be our 'big cat' and that indeed the cheetah was having a day off.

It was nearly the end of the show.  The presenter told us that they were going to do some housekeeping announcements about how to leave because we would not concentrate when the final animal came out.  They explained where to leave and how to pick up the photographs and then the final animal arrived or rather the final two animals arrived.

The first animal was a dog - lupus familiaris.  Like the donkey it was a helper animal the zoos use.  In this case the wild animal was none other than a cheetah!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Cheetahs are paired with dogs early in their life and the dog provides a comforting presence who is much more used to dealing with humans.

I have no words for how excited we both were.

Here's one last shot of us all together

After the show we met up with Cathy, Matt and Ben.  We saw a few more animals, finishing withe Giant Panda.  It was an exhausting but memorable day.

Rock-star Cheetah

Palm Springs is a notable city.  It is well known in the gay community as something of a playground and it has a much higher population of same sex couples than one would expect (think of it as a desert Brighton if you will).  It is replete with golf courses, shopping and everything the discerning California tourist may desire.

It also has a zoo.  This may not seem exciting but it is a special sort of zoo: it has cheetahs.  The cheetah is Hatty's favorite animal.  There are, alas, no cheetahs in any New York zoo so we travel to see them (Hatty and I made a trip to Philadelphia for just this purpose).  The moment I found this out I knew we had to go so Hatty, Ben and I set off for the Living Desert Zoo and Gardens.

They are very proud of their cheetahs.  Right at the entrance there are bronze statues of a cheetah and cubs - if you look behind at the ticket booth you will see the prominent Cheetah face (the black lines from the eyes down being one of the most recognizable differences between cheetahs and other cats).

The actual cheetah exhibit was large but of course the cheetahs were not doing very much in the heat.  So we did get to see them and it was enough. The rest of the zoo was great too.  It had many other African animals including the giraffe as well as a petting zoo full of newly born baby goats.

The jaguar was popular too but there is only one cat for her.  We had stop for another picture on the way out.

In the afternoon I dropped most of them off at a shopping center while Matthew and I went to the Palm Springs Air Museum (he is learning to fly at the moment so I thought this would be interesting).  This is an impressive museum attached to Palm Springs airport and has a large number of World War II planes (as well as some more recent planes, including a very nice F-14 Tomcat parked outside).   The amazing thing is that many of these planes still actually fly and there were many interesting guides who told us all about the planes and their history.

When we met everyone else I could tell from J's face that was something was not quite right.  He shook his head and told me I would have to ask her.  Hatty excitedly told me that she had bought a leather jacket (technically it was more of a waistcoat) so she 'could look like a rock-star'.  Never let it be said that she does not know what she wants.

I didn't tell her but I knew that this cheetah outing was only the starter.  For the main event we were heading to the San Diego, with its world-famous zoo and I hoped that something special was going to happen there.  I would not be disappointed.

The Baptism of Fire

I am well adjusted to the Fahrenheit scale, at least for high temperatures.  80 is pleasant, 90 is too hot and 100 is way too hot.  The air temperature is one factor but there are other dimensions, notably the humidity.  The humidity of the South had been punishing so the dry heat of Texas was a relief.  However, at some point the numbers become quasi-meaningless as the dial continues to turn.

You see, when I arrived in California it was in Palm Springs, a desert city.  My abiding memory of Palm Springs from 2006 was that it was intolerably hot, yet I did not dare mention this.  The RV you see had just come from Vegas and had stopped for a couple of days in Needles, CA.  The trauma of Needles on the occupants was such that its tale will be told decades into the future.  The thermometer only went to 120F and so at some point no one really knew how hot it was or cared about the fact that this was a dry heat.  Dry describes Needles - it holds the record for the hottest recorded rain in history - 115F (it evaporated so was only barely detectable).

The occupants of the RV had grown with the arrival of J's sister Cathy and her sons Matthew and Ben.  For these residents of Staffordshire, England (high August temperature of 20C/68F) this was to be an almost literal baptism of fire.  Cool Palm Springs rarely bothered to reach even 100F.

So they were delighted no doubt to hear me complain about the weather.  This is coupled with the fact that I arrived from a very pleasant New York.  Incidentally I had a great send-off from New York as the this photo at Kennedy Airport shows.  

Another fact that may have counted against me was the way in which I arrived.  It was expensive to travel at that time so to save money I used air-miles.  Alas the only availability I could get was a First Class ticket to Los Angeles on American Airline's new Transcontinental Service.  First Class has five seats on either side of the plane so no need to worry about whether you want an aisle or window seat because it's both.

I will leave you with the view from my seat, which was a little tighter than an international first seat and was more akin to international business class.  No sympathy please, I don't like to complain.

A Short Lived Shark Tale

I had planned to write a blog post on my observations on the way in which Hatty makes friends.  She has made so many on this summer RV trip.  Typically, she begins by scouting out the campground for signs that there are children of her age.  Even if she does not see them she recognizes the clues outside the trailers and RVs: toys, children's chairs and so on.  Though it is quiet she will get on her bike and start circling the campground, like a shark, single-minded in pursuit of its goal: friends.

That is not to say she cannot spend time by herself.  In San Diego I met her by the store and asked why she was not on the jumping pillow.  The other kids she explained were just trying to bounce her off.  I used to worry that rejection would be too hard to bear but in reality she is well aware of just how mean spirited others can be.  Her reaction is not to lose confidence but simply to move on.  When I met her by the store she was thoughtfully watching the arcade game.  It was a gun range type game - we do not encourage her viewing guns as toys so she is not allowed to play but she was still fascinated by how the machine worked.  It was set up like an old garage with one of the cars from the Disney movie and periodically some part of it would come alive.  She was content to watch this from a distance while waiting for a new friend.

She has touched so many lives.  Often the parents will come and tell us directly how wonderful she has been.  They are also curious to see, I suppose, whether she is telling the truth because so much of our story is unusual.  I confirm that we live in New York City and that she was born in California.  Her accent is so English to them as we hear more and more the American idiom.  Often times I get the sense of parents grateful for her reaching out to their otherwise shy children.

The original plan for this post was somewhat glib and centered around the shark idea.  Yet this morning I was hit for six and the story takes a more serious tone.  I received an email from the father of one of her very good friends from the early days of the adventure.  He did not quite know how to tell me in email so he just came straight out with it.  His wife, Hatty's five year old friend's mother was killed two weeks ago in a road traffic accident.

He told me that they were, unsurprisingly, still lost but one thing they did was to look through photographs.  The girl would list the family and friends that she did still have with her in the world and invariably Hatty was mentioned in that list.

I had been dwelling recently on the fact that the trip was short and indeed we are entering the home stretch.  I hardly knew what to say to him except to promise that whatever it took we would stop off in their home state on the way home.  So there it is, I have much on my mind just now but the words just do not seem enough.  I'll dwell instead on what I hope and believe to be the power of friendship, precious in those moments that are far away from happiness, a bulwark in the most capricious of times.

  

The Worlds Collide

There are many simple, yet evocative terms to describe the physical landscape of North America.  The Great Plains, where once the Bison roamed in numbers unimaginable today, extends two thousand miles from Canada to Texas.  Sometimes it is just too easy to dismiss these vast flat expanses or question why on earth people persist in continuing to live in Tornado Alley.  Continue west though and sooner or later you will slam into the Rocky Mountains - three thousand miles of mountains from Canada to New Mexico.  The Continental Divide of the Americas runs through the Rockies and determines whether water will end in the Atlantic or the Pacific oceans.

Our next destination was the state of Colorado, a state shaped by the power of the land and the meeting place for these great landscapes.  To the east are the Great Plains and to the west the Southern Rockies.  The state is named after the Colorado river, which begins its life in the Rockies and makes its way through dramatic canyons, including of course the Grand Canyon itself.

We were so very far from the Southern coasts.  I arrived in Denver Airport and was amazed by the size of the place.  Nothing in Colorado fails to be dramatic and this is the largest airport in the USA by area - 54 square miles.  It has the longest public use runway in the US and is the fifteenth busiest airport in the world - not bad for a state with a population just over 5 million (comparable to Scotland).  Impressive though it was and reassuring though all the Tornado shelters were, I would probably try to avoid Denver in the future because it took an age just to get out the airport and to the hire car.

J and Harriet were already at the campsite and I had spoken to them before arriving so I was more prepared.  The interstates out of Denver look much like any in the US but it does not stay that way for long.  The I-70 begins in Baltimore and ends in Utah, but in order to get there it must cross the Rocky mountains.  Soon into the journey you are aware that you are traveling on a very ambitious piece of civil engineering.

The I-70 is full of oddities.  For one thing it has a lower speed limit in the left (fast/passing) lane than the right in sections as you climb and twist your way (presumably to discourage flying off the edge into thin air).  The yellow warning signs persistently remind you to test your brakes and though not relevant at this time of year, warn of dire consequences if you attempt to take this road without chains.  Periodically there are massive barriers at junctions that can be used to close the road and as you push on the signs become colloquial but serious in tone: "Trucks you are not there yet", "Trucks don't be fooled".

In my brand new Ford Taurus it was little problem but the 11 tons of Rosie had a much harder job and it is a testament to her and J's driving that they made it through this.

The story of the US is sadly too often one of exploitation.  Bison make way for Cattle and the towns in the Rockies that we were passing and would visit were created for the sole reason of exploiting the reserves of gold and silver.  Yet for all our power in building roads and blasting tunnels there are still severe constraints imposed by the land.  The parkway that would take us to Central City was a fine four lane road but had to obey the geography and could not avoid hard turns and rapid ascents and descents.

The cruelest blow though came at the top.  You could see the KOA campsite but there was no turning.  Instead, you had to dive down 500ft, turn around and then make an implausibly steep ascent back up to where you had just been.  I have no idea how Rosie managed it but from now on I think I can safely describe the hills of San Francisco as gentle.

Our campsite sat at 9,000ft above sea level and was cool.  The mountains towered all around us and below us was a sheer drop into Central City.

The campsite was nice enough and Hatty made lots of friends as usual.  It would be too cold for a swimming pool but there were two hot tubs inside.  Hatty and I went in the tub - ever the trailblazers because I could see so many people curious and eventually deciding to join in.  After we were finished I left her by the side of the hot tub holding court and she spent more or less the whole evening with a new friend who was almost the same age.  After they were done in the tub it was out to the swings - I would periodically check on her and chat to the parents.  The main game seemed to be pretending to be on a rocket ship and traveling to other planets as the swings were pushed higher and higher.  It all seemed so appropriate given we were so much closer to the stars.

The next day Hatty and I tried to visit a gold mine but it was closed.  So we spent some time in Central City.  This now intends to make its money from casinos but was extremely quiet.  We looked in a few stores but I got tired of making conversation with the sales people, who seemed to be completely starved of human interaction.  There must be money in the town because it is so well maintained but it does feel like it is on the verge of being a ghost town.  One nice moment though was passing a barn and hearing operatic singing - Central City is home to one of the oldest opera companies in the US and I presume this is where they practice.

Since it was not an option to go to the casinos we visited the museum and learned a little about the city and its mining history.

The museum contained items that were expected as well as the unexpected (a wooden submarine),  They have a treasure hunt for children by telling them to find the location of two stuffed chickens in return for a candy reward.  This was less successful a distraction for us because Hatty wanted to find those chickens and would look at nothing that was not potentially chicken related and would not stop talking about it.  So in the end we had to find the chickens before I got any peace to look at the exhibits.

Other than stuffed chickens the main animals we saw were chipmunks.  There was one animal though that was close to us though thankfully we did not see it.  In the morning there was trash strewn on the campsite and down into the slopes below.  Warning messages on the local TV left us in no doubt - we had been visited by bears who had emptied the dumpster.  The warnings said not to let your children play alone and the campsite was regularly patrolled by police.

The bear is another fine reminder of our smallness in this great landscape.  It is also a reminder of how hard we must work to make sure we live in balance with our surroundings -  warning signs about bears are common in US parks but this brought it home just how important it is to lock up and secure food.  Campgrounds forbid you from keeping food in tents or trailers (hard sided motor-homes are fine) and I thought of Hatty's friend who was camping in a tent 50 ft away from the dumpster.  You are warned that you do not really realize what a bear claw can do to a tent until it is probably too late.

It had been a beautiful stay but we needed to continue.  I returned to the world's 15th busiest airport and Rosie continued to climb her way on I-70 .  The great state of Colorado had indeed been great.  The plains, the mountains, the rivers and the bears had been kind enough to let us have our very small view and the Continental Divide now decreed that we flow onward to the Pacific coast.

On the Cuteness of Tarantulas

Travel should, ideally, be a blend of relaxation punctuated by those moments of surprise and wonder that you will remember forever.  It was several years ago that we first set eyes on the Grand Canyon and to this day it is still a difficult sight to comprehend - it did not really seem real, it was so vast.  Somehow you felt like your eyes were not capable of taking it all in and you needed to stitch together a panoramic view.

Our stay in Texas was to be another Canyon, Palo Duro Canyon State Park.  This was a different sort of place to the Grand Canyon but no less amazing.  The canyon itself is much smaller, which is fortunate because we were going to be staying at the bottom in the RV.  This fact alone made it almost more impressive than the Grand Canyon, the bottom of which is accessible only to competent hikers and certainly not anyone with a five year old.  However, first you need to get to the bottom down a steep 10% gradient - no mean feat for a 10 ton RV.

The campsite was beautiful.  There will I promise be pictures taken with a proper camera to follow. 

It was a marked change from the South - despite the heat the low humidity meant that it was much more tolerable.  The site was reasonably busy so of course Hatty got on her bike to see if she could make friends.

Luckily there was one very good friend.  His father came to talk to us several times too.  I have written often about how awkward our conversations sometimes are with other parents, particularly those from Red States (and in several respects they do not come much redder than Texas).  In this case he was actively seeking conversation so there was no avoiding it.  So among the things we have now done we can add "talk to a SWAT officer from Houston about parenting and how it is love that defines a family, not blood".

However, if humans were remarkable they were nothing compared to the animal life.  As the title suggests one of the first we met was a tarantula.  J had seen it the night before and had taken pictures to prove that he had seen it, which was completely unnecessary because it was still there in the morning just outside the RV.

Once the sun came up it started to stomp around our pitch - we watched with fascination and a healthy dose of fear.

J in particular has an aversion to spiders but has tried not to pass this on to Hatty.  We repeatedly tell her how spiders are our friends because they dispose of flies and other pests.  This was certainly a time to practice what we preached.

Not to be too flippant but a large part of the acceptance of the strange and different is just being aware that you are living with it and how normal it all seems.  Perhaps too with spiders - the tarantula largely ignored us although it did visibly react to Pippin (who was curious but not to same extent as she would have been with a chipmunk or the like).  Eventually it found a hole and descended for the day.

The final part of acceptance is giving it a name - J insisted on naming the spider Fred and that it was a female.  We would see Fred again later that day and we saw many other spiders in the campground although not all of them were alive - the spiders have much more to fear from their surroundings that we have from them.

Fred was only part of the abundant fauna that visited our campsite.  We would be see wild turkeys, rabbits, bats and most remarkably fireflies. I have never seen a firefly before and could not have told you with any certainty where one would find them until they wandered onto our pitch.  I saw the lights at a neighboring pitch first and assumed they were some sort of LED on the RV until the light wandered over to us.

Palo Duro is a remarkable place.  I had flown to Amarillo, about 30 miles north and this had provoked surprise from many people.  Granted, Amarillo is unremarkable but more people should be going there and continuing south for the beauty of this place.  Indeed, we had such a good time in this park despite the problems we had with the RV.  Rosie's slide-outs had stopped working and without them extended she feels very cramped.  Every once in a while I would try to figure out what was wrong but without success and a very expensive repair bill loomed over us.

Still, we tried not to think too much about it and spent most of our time outside.  The park has plenty of trails including a gentle one that starts from the campsite itself and goes down to the river.  Though dusty this place has plenty of green thanks to the water and it was clear that they were still recovering from some of the recent downpours to hit Texas (warmly welcomed by some of Hatty's new friends from Texas).

We also tried one of the longer walks - another enjoyable experience.

There was plenty of opportunity for budding photographers to hone their skills.

We left the Canyon happy though still concerned about the RV so we stopped into a nearby RV center.  I was dreading it when I walked in to their parts department and asked if someone would look at our RV's slide-outs.  Someone came and had a look in the cab and also found the slide-outs unresponsive.  He said he would look in the engine compartment and eliminate the easy things.

He walked off to get a few tools and the gloom settled in but in a few minutes I looked up and saw he was indicating to try it again.  I turned the key, pushed the button and the hydraulics sprang into life!  It was a simple as a loose battery connection and for good measure he fixed our faulty windscreen wiper.  I tried to give him some money but he would not accept it and just wished us well on our journey.

So Canyon, TX is now one of my favorite places.  It provided the perfect blend of relaxation and excitement.  The scenery was spectacular and the animals abundant and surprising.  The only more memorable experience we have had with some wild-life is the small matter of being visited by bears but that is looking ahead in the story to our next stop in Colorado so you will have to wait.  In the meantime, embrace the challenge of learning to love the tarantula and Fred, wherever you are, happy hunting. 

The Grand Isle

After our brief stay in New Orleans we were on the move again.  Last mini crisis was developing because the RV only has one effective deadbolt lock and the key was beginning to bend.  I had left the spare set in New York so we were facing the real possibility that we might not be able to lock Rosie.  So, before we set off we had a supermarket pit-stop and tried to have a replacement key made.  The supermarket only had an automatic key-cutting machine and the computer said no.  I tried an enormous Home Depot but that too had only a computerized system that would not recognize the key.  I was advised to try 'a real hardware store' and thanks to google maps I found one.  The key they produced did not turn the lock but J would subsequently fix that with a file.

Off we set, south on a wide highway that gradually narrowed.  Three lanes became  two and two became one.  The winding road started to resemble more of rural England or France.  The difference was that despite looking like we were surrounded by fields we passed a coastguard station.  In a large shed was a giant ship where a combine harvester should have been.

In fact soon we were running parallel to the water and passing all manner of boats.  The yards we passed had oversized machines designed for serious, heavy lifting.

The final section of road is a toll road.  It begins with a monumental bridge that sweeps you over the water and you arrive at a narrow strip of land that looks barely wide enough for the RV.  The Louisiana 1 continued on to our final destination: the Grand Isle.

We were staying in a state park at the end of the island.  The campground was in easy walking distance to the beach but  initial impressions were disappointing.  Far from Florida's white Gulf sands this beach was covered in seaweed and we nearly became stuck in it as we waded out.  The water was beautifully warm but murky and at no point could you see the bottom.  It was scorching hot and the campground was seemingly never quiet because of constant mowing of the lawns.

I began to be concerned that this was a poor choice for our stay.  However, it definitely got better.  For one thing the bugs were bearable and at night the temperature became very pleasant.  In the morning we took the scooters to the fishing pier and watched the fish - huge clouds of small fish and plenty of larger fish were clearly visible.

The key though was our neighbors.  The site next to us did not bode well because three guys set up a tent with lots of beer. They were, and I don't quite know how else to say it, rednecks.  Their loud conversations and fights were barely comprehensible but at least they fall out and leave the site for a bit.

However, the magic started when Hatty spotted the neighbors across from us.  They had an eight year boy, Jake, and a three year old girl, Jessie.  This made the place because they became the best of friends and we could relax,

In fact though it was got the sea breeze was definitely there and we could relax.  I am always a bit nervous of meeting other people, particularly from red states but there was no avoiding it.  Hatty tells everyone, proudly, about us so there is no need for introductions.

One afternoon I sat on the beach with Jake and Jesse's mom and grandmother.  They were a little curious because Hatty had told them she was Californian and lived in New York - all true but of course her accent doesn't tie with that yet.  So I shared our story and learned about them.  They were from a small town between New Orleans and Baton Rouge.  She used to work in HR for a local bank but gave it up to follow her passion and had become a music teacher.  Her husband she confided was not a traveller but she wanted to visit more places.  They were going to Canada and she hoped this would be a success.  Hatty had told them we live in Times Square - she does this I think when she senses they have no clue about the city and where the Upper West Side might be (I'm pretty sure she tries that first).

Later, when it was just the husband and me on the beach we didn't talk much.  I was desperately trying to think of some conversation but he came up with a good one first: the RVs of course.  Their immaculate RV looked great but he was keen to trade it in for a diesel pusher if they are travel far (I think the furthest he has been is Florida - they were on their way home from two weeks in Orlando).  So we talked about gas prices, prevalence of diesel cars in Europe and RV stuff.

All our meals in the evening were cooked outside and the kids' gang grew with new arrivals.  Hatty started using her bike    for the first time.  She is still too nervous to go on the electric scooter herself but Jake was zipping around on it.

We were treated to a thunder and lightning show every night.  This picture is taken late at night but the lightning has provided the natural flash:

A fraction of a second later it looked like this:

So it wasn't the most beautiful beach in the world but it was such an enjoyable stay because everyone was happy.  It rained heavily and our redneck neighbors gave up and left but so sadly did we.  Hatty was very reluctant to leave the friends she made on the last morning - there were several trailers of people who knew each other and dozens of kids.

As a coda to the story of the Grand Isle, it's worth mentioning that despite its remoteness it has an astonishing supermarket cum hardware store.  It doesn't feel so remote because of you can't find it there you probably can't find it in LA.

We retraced our steps to New Orleans for a night in the campground and to use its pool.  We could enjoy again the delights of the local diner!

I flew out of MSY the next day while J and Hatty began the push into Texas.

NOLA

There are many routes that lead to New Orleans.  I have a vivid memory of a British cinema advertisement for Southern Comfort that shows everyone congregating in a bar during a hurricane.  It is such a happy place, helped by the liqueur created by one of the city's bartenders, that everyone is disappointed to hear the announcement that the hurricane has passed.  Joy returns when the announcer points out that it is still raining so the party can continue.

The advertisement is never likely to be used again.  Hurricane Katrina, unlike the fictional Francis, hit New Orleans with a calamitous force.  The worst ever civil engineering disaster to hit the United States befell New Orleans when the levee system failed.  Many people were trapped in a city that was mostly under water and images were broadcast around the world that showed the world's only Superpower at a loss as to what to do.

It would however be ridiculous to see New Orleans purely through the prisms of disaster and good time jazz parties.  It stands out for its food, its culture and its French influence that marks it firmly apart from the former British colonies on the Atlantic coast.  It was the banker to the South and though its population was falling long before Katrina hit it hard, it remains one of the largest ports in the world.

If I could sum it up in one word it would be 'intriguing'.

We were staying in a suburb city of New Orleans, Kenner.  I was extremely fatigued when I arrived, having made a long journey there from India.  The campsite was a fairly standard KOA but a massive improvement for J and Hatty on their previous site in Biloxi Mississippi.  This had been a threatening place that they had to leave early - the staff were nice but the people staying there were not and from what I gather the entire area was run-down and menacing.  It was an independent site that I had checked out for any warning signs like Confederate Flags or Bible quotations but you do not know for sure until you go.

The following day we visited the famous French Quarter - the Vieux Carré.  It is a remarkable place and if you have ever seen it on TV or in a movie then rest assured it looks just the same in real life.  The central square had a small jazz band going on and the buildings were amazing - balconies dripping with plants and conveying a sense of languid grandeur.  The good fortune of having been built before the levee system meant that it was never dependent on them and sustained little damage in Katrina.

We had Pippin with us so needed to find a place with outside seating.  That took a while but we found somewhere and had some perfect Jambalaya with a starter of Alligator (tastes like chicken - we are in the Matrix after all).

I took Pip back to the campsite and in the afternoon we visited the Aquarium.  This was recommended online and well worth the visit.  There is a huge amount to do and it is presented in a very interesting way.  J was taken with the extensive seahorse section.  I was much more taken with the enormous central tank and the patrolling sharks.

The journey home was a sobering reminder of the weather.  We could see the thunder and lighting as we hurried back to the car.  The return journey took us through a torrential, sustained downpour.  Luckily Hatty just went to sleep but it was nerve wracking driving in this with such limited visibility and at times concern the car would cut out due to the flooding.  I was amazed that so many people did not adjust their driving and continued traveling at speed.

Perhaps for the locals this was just a normal downpour and they would laugh at my concern.

New Orleans is not without its problems and we hardly know it but I would have no hesitation in recommending it to anyone wanting something a little different.

 

Eaten Alive

The week before had been challenging.  Rosie, the RV, was booked in to have a service and hopefully to have the most pressing issues resolved.  It was a nerve-wracking time because of the likely expense and that was just to address the issues we already knew about.

Largely we escaped anything major that was unexpected.  A couple of vents on the cieling needed to be replaced and the cylinders in the jacks will also need to be replaced at some point but that was it.  Of the items we knew about most of them could be done, albeit for a price.  The biggest frustration is the fridge but realistically we decided we could make do with an electric one to avoid the excessive costs of a replacement RV fridge.

Overall it was not exactly a great experience but the good news is the power was sorted and air conditioning was restored.  There were no mechanical issues with engine and she has had an extensive service.

It was to be a long drive so J and Hatty made a pit-stop 60 miles north of Tampa to reduce the next day's total.  Disaster struck though when it was discovered that Fetch, Hatty's most treasured teddy (a cheetah) was missing.  It was nearly 10pm before she could go to sleep and all efforts to locate Fetch came to nothing.

The good news is that Fetch was safe and sound at the RV service center but that meant in the morning driving back.  Instead of saving 60 miles the whole episode added 120 needless miles.

Our original destination was to be an RV campground on the beach in Northern Florida.  Gill and Chris has stayed there before and we had seen it in passing the year we vacationed on Cape San Blas.  Alas this turned out to be a child free site so we had to switch.

Before that however was the small matter of arranging my trip.  I was heavily constrained because on Sunday I had a longstanding trip planned to London and India.  I needed to be back in New York to catch my flight so for my visit I chose a state park near to Tallahassee airport: Ochlockonee River State Park.

This might be one of the most memorable stays of the trip, for all the wrong reason.  The problem was evident soon after I arrived.  J told me to immediately put on bug spray.

I didnt know much about the yellow biting fly but I do now.  It is a ferocious pest and its bites are definitely painful.  The repellent we had, useful against Mosquitos, provided some protection but it was impossible to be completely covered.

At one point Hatty shouted in pain.  We thought she had been bitten by a fly - annoying but her reaction seemed to be excessive.  However we soon learned better when we saw the scorpion!  Amazingly she could shrug It off and go to sleep fine (with Fetch of course!)

It practically confined us to the inside.  This was so frustrating because the park was just so beautiful.

During Saturday we visited the swimming  area.  Hatty had a great time but it was intolerable for us.  They just kept coming and coming and we were covered in bites.

Back at the RV we thought we would get relief when it started to rain.  Any nice thoughts evaporated when we saw we were sharing the shelter of the awning with a fly the size of an adult's fist.

The rain turned into a torrential downpour and the site was soon flooded.  It was relentless and there was little to do but sit inside and swat any flies that had made it in (and they were very good at getting in as soon as the door was opened).

All in all a horror show so we called it off early.  When I left for the airport J and Hatty left for the next place, which luckily could accommodate us early.  Another horror was waiting for me but I will recount that on my travel blog.

The beginning of a hot summer

This summer we are doing a lot of traveling.  I have decided to separate my blogs so that I use this one to record what we do together, my travel one (the flying Scotsman) for my solo journeys and Scotsman In New York for when I am at home alone,

Last week we were all together in Florida, with my parents.  We spent several days at the campsite in the pool, trying to cool off from the heat.  Honestly, it has been too hot for anyone's taste although Hatty doesn't seem to mind it much.

Yesterday I took Pip for a haircut to make it a little more bearable for her.  We kept her in daycare and used the opportunity to visit a water park: Typhoon Lagoon.

It was scorching hot there but soon enough you are in the cool lagoon awaiting the crashing waves.  Hatty has not been able to swim regularly in New York but she has remembered and built on her skills and swims with confidence.  As usual she met a friend, Morgan from Nebraska, and the two of them splashed around for a long time.

For the big waves she would swim out with Papa and me and brace for the impact.  We had a few small panics with missing caps and sunglasses (all successfully recovered) but otherwise it was just great fun.

She is a little too young for the fast slides but my dad and I went on these.  We both wear swimming shirts that protect from the sun but at the bottom of those vertical slopes they were up around our necks.  Luckily there are no photos!

Hatty, Gran and Grandad took a trip round the Lazy River together.

Alas we all had to get out at 3pm because of an approaching thunderstorm but that was probably just as well.  We could then have a great dinner together and the pick up Pip.

It's always a little heartbreaking when it's time to say goodbye, especially as this time we don't have a firm date for when we will be back in the UK.  However it will be at some point soon, we just don't know when.

It was a perfect day and though the days may be too few sometimes we definitely make the most of what time we have.

Finding the Words

We experienced both our greatest progress and then our most rapid disappointment recently in our ongoing project to extend our family.  These are not easy words to write and I have been struggling with whether or not to write them at all.  It was an adoption that did not complete at the last possible moment.  It is hard to write much about it in detail both because of the need to preserve to confidentiality but also to avoid revisiting, unnecessarily, such a painful episode.

The cloud has a silver lining.  We are more prepared than ever and next time I feel like I will better know the questions I want to ask and better understand how to make the hundreds of decisions one needs to make simultaneously.  Our agency and we know each other better too and I'm sure that will lead to more possibilities in the future.  The darkest hour, and this is very, very dark, can be, if not quite forgotten, banished for a while with a change of circumstances as the light of dawn rises.  Who knows what tomorrow or indeed the very next minute will bring?