After catching a bus from LAX, my first impressions were that everything seemed really flat and really quiet. Bearing in mind I had just flown in from Las Vegas, I was well aware this could be causing my initial reaction to be skewed.

Day 1

First on the agenda was to get ourselves a car. A short Sunday morning stroll along the coast took me to the car rental place, along with giving me a handle on my new local bearings. With the gentle sounds of the waves lapping against the white sand, it was clear this place was near perfection.

The car was quickly sorted out, but as I was still unable to drive I had to settle for the role of Chief Navigator while my best friend took control of the wheel.

After a couple of bunny hops while she got used to the car, we were ready, but the American roads took some getting used to. The slip lanes and junctions on freeways were confusing at first, and the fact you can turn right on a red light still baffles me to this day!

Obviously being in La La Land our first stop had to be the Hollywood sign. Going against the grain of tourist traps, we’d been given an address slightly off the beaten track that apparently offered unrivalled views.

Following the sat nav we began winding our way up steep hills in a purely residential area, doubting if we’d been given the correct zipcode.

Rounding the final bend the sat nav announced the arrival at our destination. Being a perfectionist, my friend insisted on parallel parking at the address we’d followed which was outside someone’s bungalow. After manouvering into position we spotted that there was ample space further up the hill so her work was wasted.

Leaving the car behind, a short hike took me up to a park that was beautifully overlooked by the infamous huge white letters that make up the iconic sign.

Now fully comfortable in the new set of wheels, the next stop was Hollywood Boulevard and the Walk of Fame.

Suprisingly this was nothing like what I expected. I thought it would be much more of a status symbol, but it was far more touristy and slightly more grimy than it’s ever made to look on TV. Even so, this didn’t stop me giddily skipping from star to star searching for my favourites.

The final hotspot for the day was Rodeo Drive. With pristine greenery lining the avenue that’s graced with designer boutique after boutique, it’s far from my usual shopping haunt but it was well worth a walk along.

Stopping for dinner, we were overwhelmed by the near 30 page food menu in the cheesecake factory. Despite huge meals, not wanting to miss out meant we took cheesecake to go as we’d already spotted the perfect location to enjoy it, closer to the hotel.

Back at home, Santa Monica Pier was directly across the street. This was the perfect place to spend the evening, listening to the screams and laughter filtering from the funfair, basking in the glow of the lights from the ferris wheel and smashing the largest pieces of cheesecake known to man!

Day 2

My inner child was out in full force, fuelled by the excitement that came with a full day spent at Universal Studios.

After a tour of the film set side of the park, we were unleashed into the amusement park. As it was late September, we were blessed with hardly any queues and got to enjoy ride after ride after ride.

Spotting the odd people in the crowds looking drenched was a puzzle as there appeared to be no water rides on the maps-we soon found where it was all coming from though. Sitting down in a cart we set off on what looked like a standard ride. With the usual climb up, doors opened with animated characters to set the scene and prepare us for the inevitable drop. What we’d failed to realise though was the tracks had been surrounded by water and as we thundered back to to the ground we crashed into a wall of water leaving us soaked to the skin. This was not the day to wear a white top and denims-thank god for the humidity.

The day disappeared in a blur of high speed carts thundering round tracks, feeding our adrenaline thrill time and time again. When we were ready to make our way back home, it was easy to remember where we’d parked. Rather than being identified by colours or level numbers we were in Jurassic Parking-cannot beat a good play on words!

Day 3

My final day was spent killing time before heading to the airport, and being a stones throw from the beach meant there was only ever going to be one place that had my name on it.

I’d always seen muscle beach as a bit of a myth but it’s an actual real place, with all the equipment ready and waiting for people to continue to work on their gym honed bodies.

I very much don’t fall in this category so happily settled for laying on the powdery white sands and listening to the tide ebbing and flowing, as the surf gently lapped against the beach.

I’d treated myself to an iced lemonade to keep me refreshed but sadly lost it in a battle with an over enthusiastic seagull who pinched it. Despite this, I’ve yet to have a more peaceful time spent before the stresses of airports and flights.

Recommendations

• If you intend exploring, renting a car is a must. The city is huge and getting around isn’t the easiest on public transport.

• Grab a towel and sunblock and get out on the beach. There is no better place than the enjoying the sun beating down on the sandy shores and listening to the water.

This stop marked the end of my first main trip crossing North America, but it sparked a desire to return and explore much more quite quickly as we will read more soon.

Let me know if you have any thoughts or comments on this throwback.

The Introverted Globetrotter.

The visit to Vegas was always going to be memorable given that it started with a short flight from New York with my best friend, while incredibly hungover.

Despite arriving in the early hours of the morning around 3am, there was a timeless buzz about the place, with groups of friends meandering through the reception and everything brightly lit. This was a pre-cursor for all we would experience on this trip.

Day 1

Looking directly down from our window we could see a beautiful blue twinkling diamond. There was a swimming pool that was our only planned destination for the day. Following four very busy days in New York culminating in arriving in the early hours, some rest and relaxation was exactly what we needed.

Thanks to recovering from surgery, I had to wear a brace on my leg which meant I was unable to get in the water. Looking down from the window I didn’t anticipate this was going to be much of a problem, but when I got outside by the water’s edge my mind was very much changed…..it was hot! Dotted between the sun loungers were weird rectangular frames, each slowly misting out a fine spray of water. I thought these were a strange design feature but after a couple of hours of frying like an egg in the heat of the day, they became my best friend.

As I’m a bit of a water baby, I couldn’t cope with not getting in the pool at all. I waded ankle length in the shallow end but looked like an awkward pool attendant just stood watching everyone. I retreated to sitting on the edge, firmly keeping my feet in the water-not the most comfortable option but my only one available. A team of drop dead gorgeous bar servers were walking round in tiny purple bikinis. I was conscious of sitting in their way so spent my time restlessly flitting between my pool edge perch and my sun lounger for the majority of the day.

Being in the city of excess, we knew we wanted to watch a show, there would be no limits to the spectacles we could see here. We’d been told that you could get tickets from street sellers on the strip, we just had to find them located under a big red umbrella. A quick Google search told us that luckily there was one directly across the street from our hotel, so we decided to go for a mid afternoon walk.

There was a glass bridge spanning the twelve lanes of traffic (seriously everything in this place is supersized!) and this was a perfect place for a view of the strip in all it’s glory.

After being recommended by the majority of baristas in Starbucks, we settled for tickets to watch Absinthe, and also secured some vouchers for dinner at Planet Hollywood.

With the evening drawing in, we continued our walking around. Neon, illuminating, day-glo there is nothing quite descriptive enough to capture exactly how brightly lit everything is. And it’s amazing how quickly you fall in line, finding it totally normal to see an Eiffel Tower, followed by a pyramid, next door to a hot air balloon as you navigate the crowds.

Friends we met in New York told us not to pack the sneakers away and they were right, there’s a lot of walking to be done in Las Vegas.

We made our way to Planet Hollywood to use our dinner vouchers then took a sensible option to call it a night as we had a big day ahead of us.

Day 2

After  a rushed breakfast, we raced to the underground carpark to be met by a sweeping black limousine, ready to whisk us off to an airstrip where our helicopter trip was departing.

Waiting to check in, I realised that everybody was being weighed. It made perfect sense for each helicopter to be fairly balanced, but this did nothing for my ego when my weight recorded a couple of kgs higher due to the ‘holiday weight’ I was currently carrying on my back thanks ytothe rucksack we’d filled with stuff to get us through the day!

With name stickers proudly being worn on our lapels, we waited to be called by our pilot Bruce. With a moniker like that I was expecting a silver haired, more mature gentleman but was surprisingly met with a young guy who had a look of Mark Zuckerberg.

We bundled into the back of the chopper, headsets on looking like extras out of a music video and took to the skies. In a convoy following other helicopters we were soon cutting across the clear blue sky, gazing down at the vast expanse of desert stretching before us. After a short flight that cruised high above Lake Mead and the Hoover Damn, we came in to land. Stepping foot outside, we were officially in the basin of the Grand Canyon.

The landscape was other worldly. I suddenly felt incredibly small surrounded by the huge rugged walls of the canyon while listening to the tales of how this whole channel was carved by a once mighty and powerful river. There was plenty of chances to take photos and savour the moment of being where we were – I felt very lucky to experience this and even luckier to do it with my best friend by my side.

After a quick picnic lunch, we were back in the helicopter. This time we got to co-pilot and sit up front. The sleek glass of the windshield curved round and underneath our feet giving a panoramic view. This became most effective as we raced along parallel with the ground, before it slowly fell away beneath us as we went over the cliff edge.

On the return flight we were able to swoop through the skies and fly in over the famous strip, marvelling at the OTT hotels in all their glory.

Being the ultimate tourists we wanted to mark our visit with a selfie by the Welcome To Vegas sign. We had two options to get there, start walking or play it a little bit cheeky and ask our limo driver to take a left turn instead of a right turn. We chanced option number two and thankfully the eight Americans we were sharing the ride with were up for a little detour. Surprisingly the sign is a fair distance from all of the action but this hadn’t stopped people making their pilgrimage to it. Naturally being British we were soon in the queue to capture the iconic shot.

Bundled back in the limo we really pushed our luck asking the driver for a second detour. This time we knew our limits and vowed to just get out of the car at the next unplanned destination. Hotel New York New York. The idea of a rollercoaster within a hotel is generally unfathomable so we expected to find a tame merry go round at most. But this is Vegas and Vegas doesn’t do things by halves. We were greeted with metals tracked wrapped around the building like vines. With no queue to contend with, all too quickly we were strapped in and thundering in, out and around the hotel on a very real rollercoaster.

Taking a bit of a breather, we decided to stroll along the famous strip, basking in both the sunshine and the wonderment of the surrounding hotels and their insane uniqueness. Exploring every inch of this place, we caught the bus to Fremont Street and stepped back in the to old style Vegas. Now confronted with the Kicking Cowboy and the glittering lights of the Golden Nugget casino, this was the expectation of Vegas I had from watching Sister Act!

Time began to run away from us thanks to something going on in literally every direction. Back on the bus downtown, we were suddenly up against the clock along with battling rush hour traffic to get back and get ready for the evening.

After a quick freshen up and a change of outfit, we were out again hoping to spot the circus tent where we’d be watching the show after our dinner reservations in Caesars Palace. With this hotel being practically next door-but-one we couldn’t foresee any trouble with the plans.

Walking up the sweeping driveway, we stepped foot inside the huge hotel and the search for the restaurant began. Weaving through hallways and through casinos, into the corridors all topped with ceilings decorated with clouds, time stood still. It was ridiculous to be lost within a few minutes of being indoors, but the truth was we were very very lost. If we could have located a fire exit to get back on to the street and start again we’d have taken that option. It felt like we’d never see natural daylight again and the restaurant was a long forgotten dream thanks to the hypnotic dance of the clouds on the ceiling.

After an eternity (in reality it was around 30mins) walking through the hotel we finally located the restaurant. I can categorically admit this is the first and last time I’ve asked for the bill while ordering food mere minutes after sitting down!

Miraculously we made it on time and the stresses of the evening melted away into pure hysterics. Absinthe is one of the funniest shows I’ve ever experienced. It’s a variety, circus style affair but with more than a touch of adult humour about it. If you can’t laugh at yourself or are easily offended then I’d try to make a point of avoiding it.

Buoyed by the show, we left the huge circus tent on a wave of giggles and still keen to take in all this city has to offer. We wanted to time it just right so that we could watch a volcano erupt at the Mirage hotel. Yet another example of how quickly you adjust to the insanity of this town was making plans to watch a staged eruption.

Learning our lesson from Caesars, we made a beeline for the nearest assistant and asked for directions to the volcano. Rightly so she looked astounded that we’d asked and politely ushered us back outside – what were we thinking expecting it to be indoors. We found a spot in between the crowds having made it just in time for an enormous fiery dance to be performed by the gigantic volcano right before our eyes.

Using another glass bridge, we crossed the road to go and tick another first off the list, marvelling at an indoor canal complete with gondolas.

Continuing our march down the strip, we never quite got to the stage where there were no people but the throngs did start to thin out a little as we approached our furthest destination, the Stratosphere.

Ascending the iconic tower, we made our way to the highest viewpoint of the day. Looking across the vista, our view now resembled a thick black blanket dusted with twinkling lights as far as the eye could see.

At this stage in the day, neither of us needed further encouragement to end the day in style, so we climbed an additional level for a final blast of adrenaline.

On the roof of the Stratosphere there are three rides. One’s a huge seesaw that teeters precariously towards to edge of the building. One’s a more glamorous version of a flagpole that shoots up to the skies. And one’s a mechanical arm that swings out and dangles off the side of the tower.

We’d decided we were definitely doing one, but which one was up for a debate that wasn’t really a difficult choice. I’m not a fan of the seesaw effect so that was ruled out, and my friend isn’t a fan of the piston shooting style so that was ruled out, leaving us with the mechanical arm.

A couple of minutes in the queue gave us time to watch, learning that the arm swung out off the side of the building, and the pod area that you stood in then rotates. From the safety of the viewing platform it looked nothing more than a wonderfully unique experience for a couple of minutes. Both with a competitive nature and a thrill seeking encouragement for each other, we queued for a short while before it was our turn.

Stepping on to a metal floor, we walked to the little booths you stand in and were strapped in with the kind of restraints that pull down over your head. Standing side by side in pairs, there were four teams all facing into the centre towards each other. A nervous, uneasy tension enveloped us as the lights started to flash and the music cranked up. Thanks to the headrests, we couldn’t see each other, but could shout and hear what the other was saying.

Slowly the arm began to swing out. A snail’s pace slow process, geared to heighten your senses of just how high up you are before the spinning starts. But there was an extra element we hadn’t realised. The standing zones began to tilt forward to face you directly at the metal floor, before the absolute delight as the floor retracted, leaving nothing but clear space and thin air.

So there it was. Midnight. Dangling off the side of the tallest tower. Staring at Las Vegas far far below. Waiting to be spun like a garment in a washing machine.

There were a few screams, but there were more words uttered that probably shouldn’t be repeated. The three quick minutes we’d happily been watching a short time earlier were now feeling like an actual eternity.

When it had finished, and we were firmly back on solid ground, it was time to leave the hotel. Our jelly legs made it to the ground floor, but our final act of a jam packed day had finished us off, there was no way either of us could face or were capable of walking the length of The Strip to get back to the safety of our beds. We decided to splash out and treat ourselves to a cab ride back to the hotel, both in full agreement it was easily the the best $10 ever spent!

Day 3

Given that the previous day was activity after activity after activity for a solid 18 hours, there were no arguments when we chose to spend the morning lounging back by the pool.

We knew the drill; walk through the misty frames to cool off, rotate every 15minutes to prevent burning and listen to the faint hum of the helicopters zipping by overheard while day dreaming about now wanting to become a pilot.

As airports mornings go, this was a pretty perfect way to spend a couple of hours before bidding a fond farewell to the ultimate Adult’s Playground and continuing my exploration of North America.

Recommendations

Las Vegas was pure exhilaration. There’s a side that’s all clubs and gambling which I chose to avoid but my visit wasn’t impacted by this choice at all. If I had to, I’d recommend:

• the early morning helicopter flight into the Grand Canyon – you avoid the heat of the days and there simply is nothing that can compare to the views MOther Nature displays
• another good pair of sneakers and allow extra time as the place is BIG with a ton of walking to be done
• a sense of direction and no fear of heights as there’s a lot to be seen in, around and up all of the hotels

Let me know if you have any thoughts or comments on this throwback.

The Introverted Globetrotter.

A family trip for a birthday celebration took me to Africa for the first time, visiting Egypt. Our resort in Sharm El Sheikh promised it’s own private beach alongside multiple pools and restaurants.

Seven of us had travelled together but six of the group were happy to spend the majority of time in and around the main resort by the pool. I quickly grew tired of this, deciding to make my own entertainment by exploring the private beach.

I was greeted by a thin strip of sand dotted with the odd camel, but also punctuated by long wooden bridges along the entire length. Each stretched out as far as the eye could see, slicing through the fifty shades of blue, reaching out to the horizon where the glittering waters met the cloudless skies.

For the full length of the bridge, it covered ankle deep, crystal clear water. But reaching the end of it presented me with what was to become my new happy place.

Here, the still transparent waters transformed into inky blue waves, which in turn merged into an almost coal black expanse of water. A quick chat with the friendly lifeguard taught me this marked where the coast line faded away and the water suddenly became very deep.

Being informed of a sheer cliff drop just metres beneath the wooden floored safety of the jetty strangely made me want to get in the water. The lifeguard was the first to encourage me to enter offering me a snorkel and set of fins to use.

I flip-flopped my way to the ladder at the edge of the platform, watching the waves lapping around, before I stopped. It hit me that I was 1km away from the nearest piece of dry land, and my family had no clue where I was, who I was with or what I was doing.

Already bobbing in the water but now sensing my apprehension, the lifeguard told me he’d look after me. That one sentence ringing in my ears was all I needed. I pulled my mask down, took a deep breath and jumped.

Crashing into the water, I was quickly enveloped in a column of bubbles. Adjusting to being weightless, instinct kicked in as I kicked my feet and popped up to the surface to meet my guide. Following his lead, I rinsed my mask in the salty water and held the tube in my mouth. His instructions were brief, he told me we’d follow the coast line and would speak again when we next surfaced. With that said, he motioned for me to lie flat on the surface of the water where I submerged my face properly for the first time.

Even though I couldn’t physically speak because of the snorkel, I was metaphorically speechless. I’d entered a brand new world that was bursting with life yet seconds before I was clueless to it’s existence.

On my right hand side there was a rugged, imposing looking cliff face descending into the pitch black deep water below me. On my left hand side I could see the brilliant white swimshorts of my guide and his enthusiastic arms as he pointed out fish after fish after fish. All manner of shapes, sizes and colours meandered around us, unfazed by two huge floating bodies invading their underwater paradise. This was a view I would not tire of anytime soon.

Thanks to my new fins, the slightest flick of my feet motored me along, while the ebb and flow of the water carried us when we were simply enjoying the spectacle unfolding infront of us. Communicating with hand signal combinations of thumbs ups, oks and lots of pointing, this was an experience the lifeguard was as invested in as I was.

Spotting something that looked more unique than the rest of the live aquarium, I pointed out a fish tightly nestled in a crag on the rocks; it was alternate brown and white stripes with lots of floaty fins that looked as delicate as ribbons of silk.

My lifeguard quickly grabbed my arm and pulled me through the water, effortlessly moving me so he was now between me and the coastline. Making eye contact, he frantically pointed upwards, signalling for us to surface.

Popping my head above water, I peeled my lens off, spat the snorkel out and began to tread water. He swam over to me and explained why he’d reacted in such a way. It turned out I’d spotted a Lion Fish which was extremely dangerous if touched. He proceeded to tell me it was the first one of the season that had been spotted in the waters and it was to abruptly end this adventure.

Snorkelling became nothing short of an expectation and a daily routine.

The lifeguard took me to the nearest supermarket to choose my own mask and snorkel, also insisting I picked a bottle of the strongest suncream I’ve ever used, factor 100, explaining it would all soon make sense.

I spent hours face down in the water, marvelling at the underwater world bursting to life beneath me. Each time I leapt in, my lifeguard followed. We always turned right from the end of the platform as it was the natural direction to go. Bobbing along with the waves allowed us to conserve energy before we had to swim back against the current to get out.

When I wasn’t in the water, I was often found on the jetty with my face turned to the sun. Not only was it beyond relaxing to soak up the warmth in this way, but it also held a more vain reason for me. The high factor sunblock indeed made sense as I was exposed to the full strength of the sun reflecting of the water’s surface while I was immersed. My back had tanned into a rich deep brown – but the same couldn’t be said for my front as this was very much more than a couple of shades lighter and needed evening out!

Spending so much time snorkelling had given me a new found confidence in the water so when I was offered a chance to go scuba diving on the last full day of my trip, I jumped at it.

Heading out on a boat with a handful of tourists I relished the feel of the cooling spray hitting me as the boat skimmed across the waters. Stopping at our designated point, the crew took a lot of time explaining how to communicate with each other in the water and most importantly how to use the breathing apparatus that we’d be reliant on.

Suiting up in wetsuits and flippers, everyone took turns to shimmy to the rear of the boat preparing to enter the water. We had to dive in pairs and as I was with two other family members, again I paired with a lifeguard from the crew. We were helped into the harnesses with our oxygen tanks then took our turn to splash into the sea.

I was expecting a sensation similar to what I’d felt all week long but this was very different. Gone was the craggy rock-face and the ombre changing coloured waters. Here I was simply met with the brightest blue. Up, down, left right – no matter which direction I turned everything looked the same – it was incredibly unnerving and I suddenly felt very small in this vast expanse of water. Remembering what we’d been told on the boat, I made a conscious effort to regulate my breathing, counting my breaths in and out until it became second nature to me.

My diving partner appeared in my eyeline and signalled for us to commence diving deeper. We descended slowly, allowing time to adjust to the differing water pressure, but I was now acutely aware of the only safe space, the boat, getting further and further away from me.

Deep below us was the sea bed, illuminated with shafts of light from where the sun’s rays pierced the water with the beams dancing on the sand. Again I was met with a kaleidoscope of colour from a wide variety of fish.

Despite the tank on my back I felt weightless as we glided through the water. I was relaxing into the new environment but not yet comfortable enough to lose sight of my divemate. Sensing a change, I became acutely aware of an ominous looking dark grey shadow that looked to be about 5-6m below us. On the boat the crew had spoke about the possibility of seeing sharks on our dive, and an immediate feeling of panic crept in causing me to reach out and grip the hand of the crew member I was diving with.

Through eye contact and hand signals I let him know that I wanted to go back to the boat. He remained calm, making sure we didn’t ascend too quickly as we made our way to the surface. Breaking through the water I released my vice like grip on his hand, and took the mouthpiece out, gasping my first lungfuls of fresh air. Boat crew helped haul us back onto the boat, taking the tanks from us and peeling wetsuits off us like banana skins.

I sat on deck enjoying the sun while listening to the hustle and bustle as people continued their dives. My dive mate came to sit with me to find out what had caused me to end my experience so abruptly. I mentioned seeing the shadow and feeling uneasy which caused him to greet me with  a smile. He praised me for not panicking and splashing around as this would have attracted sharks. This response made me think I had a close call and I was now fearful as my family were still in the water. Thankfully my suspicions were shattered when the boat photographer joined us. It turned out the shadow I’d seen was in fact the photographer who had been diving a couple of metres deeper and capturing shots of us in the blue wonderland.

Despite the reassurance, when the boat moved to a second dive location, I chose to remain on board – I insisted I had half a tan to work on but the fact the crew were taking plastic bottles to crunch under the water in a bid to rouse local hammerheads was just too far out of my comfort zone for me.

Recommendations

• Get into the water at every opportunity  – it is indescribable how other worldly it is below the surface
• People are very friendly and willing to help make sure you experience as much as you can
• Wear high factor sunblock!

As it stands this remains my only time visiting Africa but it maintains a special place in my heart.

Let me know if you have any thoughts or comments on this throwback.

The Introverted Globetrotter.