To the right you can just about see the mist trail
Rainbow!
The soup line for the homeless
Sleeping headquarters
See what I mean?...boils i tell ye
The Green Tortoise trip to Yosemite was amazing! We travelled and slept on a bus for three days, I felt like such hippy! There were 36 of us (maximum amount of people allowed) and our group was made up of people from 18 different nationalities.They were all stereoptypical of the country they came from and had typical names,such as, Klaus from Germany, Bernado from Mexico, Jorgen from Denmark and Carlos from Spain.
All the youngens(the cool peeps)sat at the back of the bus and we slept on this gaint mattress(16 of us). It felt like we were the grandparents in 'Charlie and the chocolate factory' all sharing a massive bed.I was very cosy and comfortable, but maybe that's because I'm small. The taller members of the group had to sleep diagonally.
On the first day at Yosemite a bunch of us went on the Mist Trail.It was probably the worst time to go ( Mermorial day bank holiday weekend) The walk was beside a giant waterfall and there was only a metal rail between us and the rocks below. The closer we got higher up the trail the closer we got to the waterfall and the mist coming off of it (hence the name 'the mist trail'). We got absolutely soaked.
That night we stopped at a campsite and I was suprised that I was the only one out of all the group (including hardcore travellers) who knew how to make a campfire. Phil and I demonstrated how to make splints out of newspaper and I was the only one who went and got kindling.
In the morning we awoke to a terrible sight. Phil, amongst others, had been attacked by mosquitos during the night. I don't want to be to graphic but it looked like he had giant boils all over his face.I could have given sympathy, I could have found him some lotion to soothe his wounds, instead I took photos of his horrible disfigurements( to Phil's family- they weren't that bad and I did give him lots of sympathy like a good friend should... honest).The mossie's didn't seem to go for me. Probably because I smell bad, but I'm not complaining.
On the last night we went to the oldest bar in California. This amazing saloon type place with massive Deer heads on the walls and dolar bills stuck to the ceiling. That night there was a live band and I had to dance, it just had to be done.Unfortunately, because the law is that you have to be 21 or over to get into a bar here, alot of people were I.D.'d and Phil had to go back to the bus. Thankfully, I got missed out and so carried on my getting my groove on. Because I don't mind making a fool of myself on the dancefloor I think the others felt more comfortable to join in and soon everyone was up shaking their bootay!
We got dropped back off at the hostel at 6am and sneakily had showers (as we weren't technically allowed to check in till 12pm). Phil and I went to Union Square park and slept on the grass like hobos.We then stumbled across the Yueba Buena Gardens where we found a kids play area, which had hand rails that you could talk through the ends and hear the other person speaking. We had a great conversation whilst 5 year olds were pulling at our t -shirts to make us get off and allow them to have a turn.
We ended the day playing table football, drinking a bud and having a free meal provided by the hostel.
5 comments:
Tell Quasimodo that he has my sympathy, Rose. I'm sure I would have been equally badly bitten.
How wonderful that your English camping / front room log grate skills should be so far in advance of your pioneering companions. You make me proud!
Haha, I'm glad the years of camp had some positive effect on you and taught you how to make a fire (although really... how hard can it be?!) well done rose! you showed 'em all! xxx
I'm not known for my Promethean skills (bung in some wood, toss in some firelighters and watch as it burns brightly...and then goes out), so I am suitably impressed by your skills.
Well done on evading the draconian drinking laws. Just as you pass the legal age in one place, another country raises the, ahem, bar. Too bad you don't have pictures of your booty shaking, though...
When Martha was 4yrs old in North Dakota, she developed her own way of beating the mosquitoes: long sleeved tshirt on the top of a long sleeved shirt, full length jeans with tights underneath, trainers, and the final touch - a large hoody to protect her neck.
Yes this did help but she forgot that it was 30 degrees C weather.
Loved your sleeping arrangement image of Charlie and the C Factory's grandparents!
Hiya Rose, maybe the mozzies didn't take bites of you 'cos they were full up by that time!
Love the thought of you 'getting your groove on'(I've seen you practising that when you were busting a non-existent queue don't forget)- bet you showed them damn' yankees a thing or two on how to boogie on down!
Post a Comment