Back into the United States - Stuck in Austin.
11th Jan 2005

Actually getting in proves to be difficult
Festive organisational problems
Christmas stress begins to tell at the hostel
Hippy dissects the constitution
It's difficult not to blag when people are so nice to you!

So far out of date, we tried to be to brief but it has ended up as a bit of a marathon. Sorry.

So who has the most frustrating border in the world?

Our last night in Mexico, I was feeling rather sad. We had loved Mexico and it was high on our places to live list. It was all the wrong time of year to be entering the USA. The only reason that we were leaving was because our visas were running out. Listening to the cuetes going off, I really didn't want to leave. We would be re-entering the land of the bland, chain restaurants dull straight roads and no more cuetes! For me, the sound of cuetes embodies a passion in the people from the US border down to Patagonia to enjoy life, to be spontaneous with an undertone that the people own their own country rather than the authorities. Most towns have so many fiestas they lose track of what they are all for. For me the US had felt stifled and restrained by a desire for everything to be standard.

Well, we had to leave or pay for import duty on the bike, so we headed off for the border. The dramatic range of mountains that we had just left trailed us as we said farewell to Mexico. As the scenery flattened out, and orange wooden stacks began to litter the countryside. Pozo, no excavar marked on them. So it looks like the oil reserves are not confined to North of the border. For the last 100 miles to the border the stacks pierced the green landscape like pins in a pin cushion.

It was just gone mid day when we reached the border; we had chosen, as usual, a backwater border, this time between Miguel Aleman and Roma. The theory being that there would be a) shorter queues and b) less harassed officials.

Call them lax if you like, but the processing of documents on the Mexican side was so wonderfully laid back that I knew we'd chosen the right place to cross. The offices had not been easy to find, of course, but I guess the only people who use this border do so on such a regular basis that having signs up could be considered as patronizing. Total time in queues, 10 minutes. We'd heard about the 2 mile queues of trucks at the big borders and found here that the vehicles were only bumper to bumper over the short bridge to Roma. Good call navigator.

We slithered a little on some diesel while we were pulling up as directed by the officials. The sight of our British passports raised an eyebrow and we were pleasantly told to go into the office. Mr. Jobsworth sat behind his screen with a pair of wrap round multi-coloured, reflective sunglasses on his head. It was clear that we had hit the border on the wrong shift. We had been warned that entry into the US is rather random, with the individual border officials having discretion to randomly deny entry. Some travelers had told us that they had been turned away at the border and returned an hour later after a shift change to be heartily welcomed. We did not fit the standard and that, in itself, made us suspicious.

We had British passports and did not suit their American swipe machines; we had passports filled with entry stamps for suspicious countries. It seemed to confound them why we would travel to these places. Answering that we were traveling the world by motorcycle just seemed to confuse them more. We filled in the pre-requisite entry forms and sat looking and the glass panels.

And sat...

Other people came and went and I got the feeling that they were hoping that if they ignored our presence long enough we might evaporate. We asked if there was a problem, to which there were surly responses. It was frustrating; we were just sitting there and the officials apparently doing nothing to process our entry.
At one point I noticed Mr. Jobsworth on the phone with our passports in hand. What was he checking? Did he really think our passports were forged? Was it the Columbian stamps he was dubious about?

Excitement! We were called through to a back room. Here we go! I was prepared for a full interrogation, but no, instead we were fingerprinted and photographed. Trying to point out that we had already been thumb-printed and retina scanned when we had entered in Orlando, fell on deaf ears. I could have seen a point to this exercise if he had then compared that two sets of data to confirm we were who we said we were, but no, nothing so logical. I later discovered that the border officials couldnt access the central data bank. So tell me what is the point! Fortunately, we were dealt with by Mr. Pleasant.

It seems that fact that we have a ten-year visa rather then entering with a visa waver makes you more suspicious. The amount of information they had needed to give us the visa had been more detailed than any other country, those on a visa waver the authorities know doodly squat about them, but it is us who have been vetted are treated like lepers.

We sat and waited...

Mr. Pleasant had a lovely chat with us about how much he had loved Uruguay, and how if he could persuade his wife he would retire there. Why, oh why, could this not be the chap dealing with us.

Eventually after 2 hours things seemed to be in order. Then to add insult to injury "That'll be $12.50." Eh, but we have a visa each costing $120 - a visa surely means you can enter the country. What was this? We explained that we had not had to pay when we flew into Orlando, in fact none of the British had to pay. Had the rules changed since February? No, apparently. So why did we have to pay? We explained that in every other country you pay the visa and that is the entry fee. Up until then I had been placating Pat, who had been getting more and more annoyed by their deliberate obstructiveness. It was my turn to need placating. We asked to see evidence in writing that as visa holders we had to pay a fee. We never got one. We got Mr. Jobsworth 2 who claimed to be the guy in charge who said that was the way it was and if we didn't like it to go back to Mexico. Bienvenidos a los Estados Unidos!

I was filled with an urge to take him up on his suggestion, but thought that since we hadn't really entered the US we may have difficulty going back to Mexico and effectively extending our visas. It was so tempting, so, so tempting....

Apparently although needing to temporarily import the bike when we shipped it in February, there was no paperwork to enter with the bike at this entry point. This country is so arbitrary. They treated us like lepers when trying to enter but they didnt require any paperwork for the bike and they dont search our luggage. None of it made any sense. This is a country that has a whole new department for home land security after September the 11th. This arbitrary system, I suppose, means that immigrants never know what to expect, but it is hardly a way to rationally keep track of what and who is entering and leaving the country.

We caved in and were sent through to another office.

An elderly Mexican couple, who it seemed were just trying to spend Xmas with their daughter just up the road in San Antonio, and middle aged Mexican businessman were also in this other office. The guy behind the glass screen ignored us all, and enjoyed the power of keeping us waiting. It was clear he was doing nothing to process our entries and working on something entirely different. I was touched by the elderly Mexican, who gave up his seat for me and wondered to myself. Why on earth I was leaving the land of courteous people to enter a country where we were not welcome. I had laughed in the past at the US governments references to foreigners as aliens, but alienisation is no joke. I felt solidarity in that waiting room with the patient Mexicans, who seemed thankful to us for voicing some of their own frustrations at the system.

It was interesting to be on the receiving end of this treatment. It felt like we were non-people. None of the American customer service there! No, reassuring comments, that our entry was being dealt with, not even a please wait over there. Nothing. He was going to deal with us when it was convenient to him. Sorry I forgot, there is no need to be polite to
Aliens.

An hour later, he finally lifted his head and called out a name, the elderly couple went to the window, paid their money and left, then the other Mexican and finally us. It took five minutes. Why could he have not done that an hour ago?

We had intended to get to Austin, but is was now four o' clock and we asked around to see if there was a local campsite. These guys were remarkably helpful and sent us on our way. I regret that, the lingering resentment at the ignorant treatment we had had all afternoon, meant I was not as demonstrative with my thanks to these nice guys. We just wanted to get away from the border.

It had been one of our slowest borders and certainly the most slow for the amount they managed to achieve in the time.

The state park we'd been directed to, was pleasant and cheap. And then we tried to go to sleep. We hadn't noticed earlier, but on the far shore of Falcon Lake was an exploratory oil rig. It ground on through the night. I guess it should have been predicted in the land of oil.

Up the road, the weather was so nice we thought that we'd save a bit of cash and camp again. Were aware of the fact that being in the States in winter will require quite a few nights in motels and hostels and this is going to cost a fortune. The more nights we can camp, the more likely we'll be able to afford a bit of cheer at Xmas or New Year. It was so warm here on December the 20th that I sat with my shirt off reveling in the warmth. Then the sun went down. Although it turned cold, we were delighted by the emergence of wildlife that we've not really seen while hotel-dwelling in Mexico and Central America. Although it must be conceded that camping is not the most comfortable way to live, having deer munching at grass close by your tent really does lift the spirits.

Clearly not all people of the world are satisfied with sharing space with these dainty nervous creatures. All the way up the road were signs for deer corn. At first I thought it was lovely that people were putting out corn to feed the poor creatures, but my darker suspicions were confirmed by a chat with a couple of day visitors to the park. Deer corn is generally sprinkled about to attract deer so that they can be wasted by hunters. Our informant gained our respect as he confessed to be a deer hunter who used bow and arrow technology and cunning to bag his prey. He didn't seem concerned by the poor form shown by his fellow hunters and when he pointed out that theres something of a growing deer population and their shooting was pretty clean and painless, I could see the merits. Just not cricket, that's all.

Just a couple of little jobs

It all went pear-shaped the day after we arrived in Austin. I figured it would be sensible to get there in good time before the festive season so that we could access the Apple Service network. The CD drive on our ibook jammed up before we left England but there wasnt sufficient time to get it fixed. Austin is the centre of the Apple Customer Services system and so this seemed a pretty good place to get it done. We'd emailed Daryl, a guy in town that we'd met down in Southern Mexico, who said he'd try to organize some tyres for us. When we got to town, we still hadn't had a reply from him and so went up to the bike shop that he'd mentioned to see if they knew anything.

His recommended tyre dealer was, of course, shut till the New Year which meant a day trawling tyre shops. Ended up having to pay twice what we were quoted on the internet, wouldn't arrive until .... etc, etc.

Dropped in the Mac to be sent off for repairs, and settled in to doing very little. It was all very frustrating, to top it all the hostel's computer was down as well and there seemed to be no hurry to fix it, the libraries in the center of town were closed for renovation and the only caff with internet was on short hours over the holiday. Here we were in the land of plenty, without internet. I think I may have hit the next person who said "Isn't it great there is free wi-fi in loads of places in Austin". Marvelous if you have a computer, but there is no consideration that some people may not be so lucky, or wealthy.

There was nothing to do but be on holiday, and relax from our web obligations and enjoy Xmas. Have a holiday.

The first night in the hostel the temperature plummeted to just above freezing, we had laughed the day before when there was talk of snow in Southern Texas. The next night it was colder still and reports of snow in Houston for the first time in decades. We were going to have to re-evaluate. I had thought that we could avoid freezing temperatures be staying low and South in the US, and would still be able to camp, but these cold fronts can alter the temperatures dramatically by 20 C, from one day to the next.

What to do, I spent hours studying maps, reading guide books, chatting to other travelers to try and work out the best plan. It was a bit of an "I wouldn't start from here if I was you" situation. We wanted to see the Rockies and lots of the amazing national parks that are mid continent at altitude. The only thing those places are good for at the moment is skiing, but its hardly comfortable motorcycling weather. We only have a 6 month visa, so we can't even hang around for the summer, so if we want to see them we could go south again into Mexico and find a beach for a couple of months, or go North to Canada up the Pacific coast which supposedly hardly ever snows and back into the US later in the year. Both of these options means dealing with American border officials again. Oh joy of joys. Or do we just forget about the US and speed our way to San Diego and take shippage to somewhere in Asia.

I don't know, since we restarted the trip last February and had to start in USA rather than Panama, we seem to have been going round in circles getting no where fast. Needless to say we are still in a dilemma.

You may remember a chap, called Charlie that we in Austin six months ago who had converted his bike to be ridden from a sidecar for his wheelchair. The poor man had been through the wars since we last saw him; 2 accidents where after recovering from a head injury, he then had an accident where he broke his legs. When we saw him 6 months ago he was perfectly independent in his wheelchair, now with a leg in plaster, movement in and out of it was virtually impossible by himself.

His medical bills are huge, there is now a battle on for the guilty parties to cough up. I felt thankful for an NHS. To live in a world where you could fear a life of debt from an accident that may not be your fault, but the guilty party didn't stop. With such humungous fees involved I can see that it discourages people from doing the right thing and admitting responsibility. But medical insurance is big, big bidness here.

Charlie true to form, was still the same characterful guy he ever was. No a bitterly cold night he came into town and by chance we met him in Love Joys. I was embarrassed by the praise he deluged on us, for traveling so far. What we had done in the last 6 months was truly humbled by what he had been through. I could see that some of his friends who had been through the hard times with him looking at us, rightly, as prodigal bikers. They had been there, when he was lying in the hospital, not knowing how much of his faculties were going to be salvaged, and they were temporarily playing second fiddle to us who had swanned in from a jaunt down to Panama and back. I tried to play down our achievements and point out that I honestly believe that people who bring up children, contribute more to the world, than a could of vagrants.

In this land where the lawyer is king. It seems remarkable what people feel that they can sue someone for. A group of police had organised a poker run, which is involves riding by motorbike from bar to bar and collecting a card at each bar, and then at the end seeing if you have a decent poker hand. Now really the concept rather encourages drunk riding. In the last bar one of the police was so drunk that he thought it OK to bring in his bike and burn rubber on the floor of the bar. The chap and his wife died in a crash on the way home. Now the son is questioning why the police colleagues of the dead guy didn't stop him from riding home. Do we sniff a hint of litigation in the air, or what?

Christmas passed and the Mac didn't turn up........

The tyres did, although they were delayed by a day. Fitting the tyres was going to cost me the princely sum of 20 dollars per wheel. I'd paid a dollar for removal, repair of a puncture and replacement of a tyre in Mexico. In Blighty you usually get fitting free where you buy the tyre. I chatted with Charlie who suggested we did them round at his place. He had a compressor and lots of irons and so why not? Been a while since I've done any bike tyres and I was seriously lardy and unfit. Austin kicked up one of it's warmest winter days. All in all, there was plenty to amuse Charlie and he maintained a steady twinkle in his eye as I sweated my way through the job and he offered me fatherly advice. "Use the big lever" usually fixed my problems.

To be fair, the computer arrived a day late due to huge snow in Ohio which is the transport hub for the shippers. The problem was that the mac did not work at all when it arrived back at the dealers. Maybe the optical drive had been replaced, but this was not really good enough. I blew up. Poor Srini had to placate me and get the 'puter shipped out quickly so that it would be back with Apple the next morning.

New Year came and went.......

I checked daily on the Apple website where one can track the progress of one's repair. After it had been 'in repair' for a few days, I thought a call (free) to the customer services department might be in order. I had a very frustrating time with the phone lackey. It seems Apples policy runs thus:-

The upshot of all this is that unless you get pissed off and make an angry phone call to the Customer Services department, you could be waiting up to a month for a repair. By giving a gobfull to someone on the phone, our machine was repaired and sent back to us the next day. The comment that riled me the most was "Well, Sir, you know you ain't paying for this repair". Oh yes I was, especially as being a galoot of a Limey, I'd forked out getting on for twice as much for my service plan than the septics do. Ooh, I were angry.

Still, we'd now got our tyres and our Mac back. So much for service culture. It had taken from December 21st to January 8th to achieve these two simple tasks.

Christmas - who needs it?

We'd spent the Christmas period festering in the hostel. When we'd been there previously, I'd been able to work and so get a free bed. This seemed not to be an option this time as an Italian guy, Carlo, was doing the work formerly done by three of us for his free bed. He looked jaded all the time. When not working at the hostel, he was waiting in an Italian restaurant.

Terry, the hostel manager, had arranged to get a load of food in for Xmas dinner without asking whether people wanted it or not. Other hostlers went out and bought their own stuff, unknowingly, and incurred his ire. Such is Christmas. We fanned the flames as we'd accepted Kate and Charlie's offer of festive dinner around at their place and so even less of the turkey would be eaten.

We worried all through our turkey that the atmosphere at the hostel might have further fragmented and our stuff might have been tossed out onto the door step. What a great relief it was when we returned with our tight tums to find peace reigning and everyone else satiated by egg nog and turkey. The evening was spent learning Texas Hold 'em. This seems to be the gambling card game of choice all over the world, now, televised as it is in Blighty and everywhere else with satelite TV. I feel prepared now to lose my 20 dollars in Las Vegas. Thanks for the lessons to Tom, Frances and Martin who all seem to be somewhat more expert than I. My quidsworth of monopoly money was soon swallowed up in outrageous bluff.

We bumped into a guy who we'd met before when he used to work on the reception who is now driving trucks delivering cars before taking up a place at med-school. Our pleas of poverty kept us out of the pub for several nights but we caved in on Christmas Eve and joined Paul for a gargle down at Lovejoys. We set off at a good pace knocking off the first pitcher in about five minutes. Halfway through the second, the cracks appeared and it was plain the Paul had 'gone too soon'. His attempts to pull the barmaid became a bit tiresome and his move to Jack Daniels was not going to turn him into the evenings prize catch. Fortunately he is affable if somewhat annoying when in his cups and so no one got too upset.

The taxi ride back was another matter. No sooner had we taken our places than he was jabbering on about 'f-ing niggers'. Not the best policy when in a cab driven by a rather handsome 6 foot something black guy. We were completely horrified that someone who had been working at an international hostel could display such blatant and excruciatingly embarassing racism. My apologies to the driver were met with a knowing look that said "I've become immune to this stuff, I hear it all the time". Paul retired to bed as soon as we stepped over the threshold. We were not too upset.

Constitutional matters

Hippy had a few happy hours pulling to pieces the American constitution. It is not unfair to do so. The absolute dependance on it and acceptance of it as being unchangeable and correct is a very worrying feature of the beliefs of a great number of conservative Americans. We'd always wondered what this document was all about and so managed to borrow a copy off Terry for light reading. I'll leave Hippy, the political analyst to launch her critique at this point ......

The whole constitution is an elaboration of the Declaration of Independence
'All men are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness'

I had heard so many Americans justify their gun laws by saying 'Its in the constitution', that I was determined to know exactly what the constitution actually says. And there I found it in Amendment II
'A well regulated militia, being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms.' Now the question is what do they mean by arms. Does arms mean a mace spray, or an automatic machine gun? There was nowhere that specified that people had the right to carry guns as 'arms'. If guns, why not anti-tank missile or nuclear warheads?

I had been intrigued why Bush had insisted on calling his attacks on Afghanistan and Iraq as a 'War on terrorism'. But the constitution allows that in the case of war the government can do lots of things that it cannot excuse in peacetime.
'cannot be deprived of life, liberty or property without the due process of the law, except in time of war'

Interestingly a guy John Wheeler, said back in 1942, when he was worried even then that politicians were not exactly interested in upholding the philosophy behind the constitution, which was a pretty comprehensive 'right -on' kind of document.

'We are beginning to realize how far we have come down the slimy road of dollar expediency and cheap politics. I would not assume the air of undue piety , but I am convinced that we have gone as far down the road of materialism, we have put so many lame ducks in office to govern us, we have sent so many people to Washington because they became political problems at home, so many of our rights have been taken away from us, that we cannot achieve a recapture of individual rights and liberties in our own strength.'

And that was back in 1942...... It is true that the same could also be said of British politics.

Being stuck in Austin has had the bonus that we have had the chance to understand why it is seen as a liberal oasis in a generally conservate Texas. All a little of an oxymoron, that this town surrounded by red neck country and houses the state capital, for Bush's home state. Austin, has a proper thriving centre, with only a Starbucks as a concession to the chain restaurants. There is none of the patriotic gringoism of many other places, I have seen more anti-Bush stickers than anywhere else in America. Things like ' Ignorance and arrogance puts our country at risk' 'Say no to the War' placards sit weathered in front yards. One chap said through his Texan drawl 'There's only one good thing about Bush being President, he's not our governer any more!' Maybe they are more personally affronted by one of they own Texans doing such terrible things to the world and their country, that it evokes a stronger response. Admittedly we tend to meet and gravitate toward the people at the more democratic end of the political spectrum. But here it seems that they are genuinly depressed that their nation voted Bush back in. Austin needless to say voted for Kerry. I heard that some are now so worried about how their country's tolerance is being eroded that theyare having second thoughts about bring children into it.

Its liberal reputation, attracts people seeking tolerance. This is welcomed by some and others are worried that Austin is becoming too weird. Generally, I like Austin, because it is itself and has avoided the pitfall of so many American cities and confused modern with bland.... it is quirky, lively, and accepting of people's differences.

Mike, a guy of part cherokee descent told me of some of the dodgy dealings against the native Americans. Indians in the Mississippi Indians were rounded up into concentration camps and later moved onto the less desirable land in Oklahoma. But then the there was the discovery of oil. The indian reserves were forced into contracts signing over their oil rights at a dollar an acre. Apparently, there is a big legal battle on, to try to change those contracts. They are not asking for compensation, but only to take over the rights from now on. But funnily enough the Department of Indian Affairs (a subdivision of the government) is not giving up easily.

I admired a guy called John, a Texan through and through,who has being selling solar power in the oil state for the last 12 years. Now that takes a dedication, undetered by those who thought him rediculous.

He educated me on Texan etiquette, and enlightened me that we had apparently, been unwitting upseting loads of people. Various people had generously offered us accommodation, but in normal British style, we tend to decline, a first offer, so that the offerer has the chance to withdraw their offer. But apparently, if you don't immediately jump at an offer it is taken as a rejection. So to all those lovely people whose offers we declined, we didn't want to put you out, and thankyou. Despite Pat's comments that he was intending to blag our way round the US, when the offers come in we are generally crap at accepting, not wanting to feel obliged, or over stay our welcome.

John told us of a wise old Indian, who once said to him after a bunch of red necks had been baiting the Indian with comments on how well the whites had civilised his kind, 'When we were braves we hunted and fished and did no work, now we are civilised and pay our taxes'

We discussed altruism with the fervour of semi-inebriated freshers. Is there a requirement for the altruist to suffer for his work? Of course, nothing was resolved - nothing ever is. In the course of the debate, though, we did hear about a rather endearing character from the early years of American settlement who travelled the land living in penury planting apple trees as he considered that one could live solely on apples and if there were sufficient in the world, everyone would be happy. Apparently original trees can be found to this day (each with a Historical Marker, no doubt)

A charming young chap in a wheelchair turned up to stay at the hostel and gave me the dubious honour of playing (and losing) the first game with his new chess set. When it became clear that the games were going to be none too serious for him, we resorted to conversation. He had a saddeneing tale to tell, not so much of how he came to be in his wheelchair, but the appalling treatment by the legal system after the event. After a Grateful Dead concert, he'd been under some decking that collapsed and crushed him. You're in the US. Where there's an accident, there's surely compensation. The legal eagles picked up the baton and launched a class action on behalf of the injured parties against the organisers, arena owners, etc. After all the court stuff, the judge settled it all behind closed doors with the lawyers. It is impossible to say what dealings go on in such situations but Dustin ended up with 7 cents on the dollar which didn't even cover his medical bills. And without meaning to be tastelss, here, remember, those medical bills can be crippling in the US.

Our lovely hosts

After the New Year, we were getting tired of eating free bread and left overs while spending all our budget on keeping a roof over our heads. We took up the generous offer of Daryl and Maia. They had bought and moved into a new house and still had two months paid up on the house they'd been renting. We found ourselves in a sought after area of Austin. All of the lots on this block had been bought up over the career of a realtor (that's estate agent for all the Brits out there) who had the intention of having something of an alternative community set up here. Rumour has it that her children wait around for her pass off her mortal coil so they can sell the land for condo-development. Greedy little beggars.

Anyway, there we were in a leafy little part of town just over the bridge from downtown Austin. All possible conveniences close at hand including a video store that gave us membership without any id, proof of address, credit card details or even a telephone number. We walked out clutching a three DVD set of Cracker - The Third Series for under two quid on the promise that we'd come back with a bit more information in a few days time. I'm really getting to like Austin. Everything is just that little bit more laid back, although I must confess that the freephone Apple customer service centre is based in Austin.

Returning from an aborted mission to retrieve the Mac, we bumped into Luke, an elementary school teacher who hailed us over to the side of the road and then took us home to eat houmus sandwiches and cheesecake. Yet another example of someone who thought our travels hard core and exciting. He, though had cycled across the US and from Bolivia south. Anyone who cycles is far more hard core than we are. We had a lovely afternoon exchanging snippets about our respective travels and picking up more tips about where to go and what to do.

We had decided to thank our genial hosts with some good British food, a veggie curry selection. This is usually safe cooking. But it was not good, the chickpeas were hard the rice overcooked, it was embarrassing. I ought to confess that 'twas I that took over in the kitchen and spoilt things. At least the egg and potato was bearable. They were terribly polite, but I suddenly felt empathy for a certain sister-in-law of mine. Hardly the way to give sufficient thanks to your hosts.

Occupying oneself cheaply is best effected by doing lots of walking. Good for you, too! We arrived back at the carpark at Barton Springs just as a trio of mountaincyclist were setting off in their car. A tupperware skittered off the roof at the first corner and as Hippy and I werejust ready for setting off, we bombed after them clutching the box and its spilt contents; driving license, credit card and 10 dollars.

We lost sight of them and ran through our options of trying to find their telephone number from the details on the license, simply posting to them or going to a police station, when I spotted them further ahead in the traffic. They look a bit scared as I waved them over into a forecourt which probably explained why they simply took back the bits and pieces without so much as a thankyou. I resolved to keep everything next time and make a few purchases on the card. Hippy scolded me for such thought and pointed out that we will get the deluxe penthouse when we get to heaven.

It does seem though that there is very little concern about theft and fraud in the US. People are free to use each others credit cards without anyone raising an eyebrow. Back at the hostel, which has a pretty central location in town right next to the lake, Terry was happy to leave large 12 volt batteries charging outside along with canoes, life jackets and all manner of stuff in an open area. The little liece of park that the hostel sits in is a public area and so any passer-by could help themselves. I know for certain that in the middle of Nottingham most of the stuff wouldn't last a night. Apparently there is a general honesty about possessions in the States and the only petty theft is by the crackheads who take easily cash convertible stuff to feed their addictions.

Luke invited us over to partake of an American breakfast with him and Joy. According to Supertamp; "Should we have kippers for breafast?
Mummy dear, mummy dear,
They always have them in Texas,
'cos everyones a millionaire."
Having had breakfast in Texas I can counter this on two points; not everyone is a millionaire and they don't always have kippers. In fact I doubt if 1 percent of the population has ever heard of kippers.

No, what we had was bacon (could it be breakfast without it?), sausage patties (burgers?), cinammon french scones (not french) , blueberry coffee (not coffee) cake, fruit salad. I wasn't sure what ettiquette required so I did my best to clear the table. I was found wanting. Absolutely delicious but so much trouble to crate all these things fresh first thing in the morning. We really felt spoilt.

Spoiling didn't end there, for we were then whisked over to Hamilton Pool, a rather charming little water fall into, yes, a pool. It was a lovely walk up a little valley bottom filled with charming cypresses. Hippy and I had been leant a water bottle which, true to form, we managed to leave behind. It was still there an hour later when we got back. Another example of the lack of petty theft culture in the US.

Refreshed from our breakfast, we were ready to move on to the next cullinary paradox. Threadgills restaurant is famous for its chicken fried steak. This turns out not to actually involve chicken in any shape or form. We had predicted a steak shaped like a chicken or a steak cooked in chicken fat or even a steak cooked by a trained chicken. It is, in fact, a steak cooked in batter similar to that used for chicken. For the Brits, you will be familiar with this on Kentucky Fried Chicken. It ought to be mentioned that Threadgills is also famous for launching the career of one Janis Joplin.

Pay back time. Part of the deal, other than genuine hospitality, with our day of luxury at the hands of Luke and Joy was that we agreed to come in and talk to Lukes 5th grade class (9 years old) about our travels. We got a bit carried away and produced enough teaching materials to keep a much older class occupied for a couple of hours. The kids were very patient with us as we struggled to get the technology going at the begining and then digressed so much during our talk that there was no time for them to do the task at the end. From their questions, it was clear that there were some pretty aware young minds at work, although, just as in the rest of the world, it was the vocal boys who dominated the proceedings.

It was nice to stand in front of a class in a low pressure situation for once and I guess we feel a bit more confident about putting ourselves forward as speakers to try and raise a bit of cash for the charities. We seem to be getting little feedvback from the motorbike clubs we've contacted so we may have to rethink our self publicity strategy. Maybe we should try to hook into the Rotary Club circuit or the Masons or join a church group. OK, so there's a limit.