LA to Vancouver

The return trip back from the Grand Canyon was uneventful (except for the hairy hour we spent tail-gating a truck because we hadn't noticed that we needed gas - the gas stations are few and far between), and we managed to get all the way to Beverly Hills with only one (minor) wrong turn. The LA traffic wasn't too bad (or is that just a reflection of how bad Melbourne has become?), although the freeways are an eyesore and do dominate the landscape.

We needed a break at one stage, so took an off ramp to a town, and found Yucca, Arizona. I'm kicking myself that I didn't take a picture of the sign at the school gate which read "This is an alcohol-free and tobacco-free zone" (what about the guns we thought?). Nor did I take a photo of the Honolulu Club, but I managed to find one on the net:

It was an eye opener, and apparently there are many others like it, old ghost towns on Route 66 which thrived for a brief while during the motoring hey days of the 1950s and 60s.

LA/Beverly Hills was brief and cliched. The impact of Rodeo Drive was lost on my travel companions, none of whom had heard of it!

Coffee update: most of it awful (and all in a 12 oz cup at a minimum), the best so far: Maccas (don't ask!), ordered with an extra shot and only 3/4 filled. Milk too hot without exception. Cappuccino comes with a ludicrous cloud of milk fluff. Now wiser, only order latte.

We flew to Vancouver (just made it - another mini drama - whew!) and were immediately struck by the helpfulness of the Canadians. There are helpers stationed everywhere throughout the airport, which is possibly an overhang from the Olympics, but it was all so easy, even our "interview" to obtain our work visas. Someone had thoughtfully lifted all of our luggage from the carousel when we were late to collect it (having the aforesaid interview).

Vancouver immediately struck us as a lively cosmopolitan place. A variety of foods, many of them ethnic and recognizable to us.

In a way we felt we were arriving home.