We were two weeks into our epic road trip around the US, now driving through the incredible southwestern states of New Mexico and Arizona; we’d just spent two days in Albuquerque for the July 4 Independence Day celebrations (and also one of my companion’s birthdays), and the next point of call was the Grand Canyon.
One winter’s day I emerged from the office building I was working in to the puzzling sight of a ‘genuine’ New York hot dog stand before me, a puzzle further compounded by the NYPD police car that came cruising past.
All of this would’ve been pretty self-explanatory were I actually in New York at the time –
The Vancouver Seawall is a lovely little walk you can do around the circumference of Stanley Park, starting and finishing in the downtown West End of western Canada‘s largest city. You’re treated to views of the city, the mountains, and the sea, all at the same time,
America is a huge country, a place of remote and vast wildernesses where you can truly be in the middle of nowhere. And that remote mountain road that we took out of Yellowstone, heading east through the Rocky Mountains, really was in the middle of nowhere.