A Very Modern Grand Tour - The Conclusion

As promised, albeit a little late, the conclusion to the The Grand Tour blog. There will be some dreading yet another instalment of this nonsense but that's too bad because I'm writing it anyway, facts, figures and all.

So, eighteen days in all and a total of 4,197 miles (6,755 kilometres) travelled.

Of those, 2,997 miles (4,823 Kilometres) were towing Towed Haul.

The fuel economy figures, as calculated by the Toadmobile's computer, were approximately 12 mpg US (14.4 mpg Imp.) when towing, or 19.6 litres per 100 kilometres, which is the more scientific way to express it I'm told. Coincidentally, 19.6 l/100km is just about twice as much fuel used as when not towing; it's like having two cars!

We bought somewhere in the region of 350 gallons (US) of Unleaded (291 Gallons Imp.) and spent around $1225 US doing so. That's about $500 (US) less than if we'd bought the gas in Canada and something quite astronomical had we been buying it in the UK! It's still a whole lot cheaper than four return flights to Florida, of course.

We visited eight US states, staying over in six of them, Mississippi and Michigan being the exceptions. The furthest south we went was Universal Studios Theme Park in Orlando, Florida whilst the furthest East was the Kennedy Space Center, also in Florida. The furthest west we travelled was to Oak Alley Plantation in Louisiana, some miles west of New Orleans. The furthest north was our starting point in Chatham, Ontario. I was going to give the actual latitude and longitude of these places but that's too nerdy, even for me. Georgia was our favourite State, a place we will surely return to, despite the fact that Georgians like to eat boiled peanuts which are quite unnatural; abhorrent, even. Still, they have lovely peaches (you know, fruity things that grow on trees), which does make up for it a bit.

We visited eight campgrounds, three of them privately owned and the remainder being State Parks, completing seventeen nights camping. All our camp sites had 30 amp power provided and had a “city” water supply (a tap!), except the final site in Ohio that only had the power. That was the first time on the trip that we had to fill the on board fresh water tank.

Four of our sites had a “sewer hookup'; a connection to allow us to dump our black and grey water into the site's sewerage system whilst set up on the plot. Unfortunately, three out of the four sewer hookups were too high for our low slung trailer so we couldn't use them! As we're good for three or four days without dumping the tanks, it wasn't a problem for us, especially as the Tadpoles were made to dump themselves in the site's facilities rather than Towed Haul's facilities.

The best meal of the trip was at Flip Flops and Tank Tops Chill and Grill in New Smyrna Beach, Florida. We pitched up there looking like flotsam and jetsam but were treated to meals above and beyond anything else we had on the trip, and the service was excellent, too. The owner, Danny Veltri, was a winner on Gordon Ramsey's Hell's Kitchen in the US so maybe that was why it was so good. The worst meal (by a country mile) was at the Cracker Barrel outlet in Munroe, Michigan. The food was school dinner style and the service, well it wasn't exactly southern style; I guess that's the problem with chain restaurants. Honourable mentions have to go to the Waffle House outlets in Macon, Georgia and Meridian, Mississippi where the food was OK, assuming you like breakfasts a lot, but the service and ambiance was like nothing else I'd ever experienced. It was in Macon that we were introduced to Grits (go on, Google it), which were actually not as bad as I'd been led to believe, even when laced with melted butter (everything in the Waffle House is laced with Melted butter).

Of the eighteen days we were away, it rained on fourteen of them, sometimes a lot, sometimes very little. Most days the temperature was around 36 degrees Celsius and the humidity at 100%, which made for very sweaty days and nights. Sing Hallelujah for the Air Conditioning in the car and the trailer.

Highlights were driving on the beach at New Smyrna, having cafe au lait and Beignets in the Cafe Du Monde in New Orleans, the Louisiana Swamp Tour and Newfound Gap in the Smoky Mountains. Lowlights were the DeSoto Caverns in Alabama and pretty much all of Kentucky, or at least the bits we could see from the Interstate; I'm sure it's a great place once away from the highway.

As if to remind me of my schooling all those years ago, we managed to revisit my first, second and third year geography classes during the trip. We crossed the Mississippi River, the Tennessee River and quite a few besides. We traversed the Appalachian (pronounced Appa Latchian) mountains, saw the swamps of Louisiana and the Intra-Coastal Waterway in Florida. We espied cotton growing as well as sugar cane, both of which were reminders of the South's dubious past. We learned about the Saturn V and Shuttle Low Earth Orbiter projects and moved through Live Oaks festooned with Spanish Moss (which is not a parasite, apparently). We saw the very obvious scars of Hurricane Katrina and witnessed the relative poverty in rural Alabama whilst at the same time felt the affluence on the Gulf Coast and in Orlando, where money seemed to be going out of style.

Would we do it again? Well, yes we would, although quite possibly without the Tadpoles (and therefore without the theme parks!). Getting up and moving around every few days was quite difficult with the little angels, not least because it was a struggle to them moving in the morning (aaah, they take after their mother). I think when we travel with them, we'll stop in one place, you know, like a real holiday!

Now that the summer is on the wane, we'll only have a couple more trips before we put Towed Haul into hibernation for the winter, which is a little bit sad, I think. Anyway, I began with some figures so it's fitting that I should end on some, too. So far, in our first season with Towed Haul, we've pulled her 5,112 miles (8,228 Kilometres) and spent 35 nights in her; a grand first summer indeed.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 18, Wednesday

Ah, the last day of our trip, but a full one at that. As I was up earlier than everyone else again I decided to have a wander around the camp site, camera in hand. I don't know how many stands were available for camping but it looked like many hundreds, and yet the place was all but empty. As I may have mentioned before, State Parks limit the amount of time you can camp, normally to about two weeks at a stretch, so that people don't take root as they do in commercial campgrounds, which I think is a grand idea and one of the main reasons to use a State Park. Imagine my indignation, then, when I saw two trailers with far too much clutter around them to be in transit. They turned out to be "Camp Hosts" (that's campground host, to avoid any confusion), people who get to stay on a campground all summer long (free of charge I assume) and dispense advice and help to stricken campers. I made a note that this could be a job for these intrepid toads in years to come, albeit that we'd not collect so much detritus, us being perfect and all. 

The campground ran down to the lake where there were little docking areas for your boat (Darn it! I knew I'd forgotten something) and a beach. There is, apparently, much water skiing goes on at this lake but today was quiet and only a flock of Turkey Vultures moved anywhere near the water. One of the beasts took exception to my presence, took off and made a low pass at me, albeit in a half-hearted manner; they may be ugly birds but this one looked quite impressive in flight and I wish I'd been a bit quicker with the camera.

Back at Towed Haul, the process of packing up was going on for one last time on this trip, taking just as long as ever it did, and it was 1pm before we made our way out of the park and off to Jackson Center, the little town that is the home of Airstream Trailers Inc. Curiously there was no where to park a trailer in the visitor's parking lot so we trundled around the back to the "Terraport", the little camping area used when people are in having work done on their trailers. I backed in, very badly, and walked away hoping that the presence of a car hitched to the front of Towed Haul would dissuade anyone from dragging it off for repair work!

The tour of the factory was led by Don, an ex-employee of many years standing, who took the twenty or so people that had turned up around the service area and the production plant in very loose formation. We saw parts of the fabrication process and quite a lot of the finishing process, all of which was very interesting especially given that most of the construction of these trailers is done by hand. Volumes are too small to invest in much high-tech machinery so people were bending metal, screwing wood and riveting panels manually, which probably explains why Airstream Trailers are so darned expensive! I was really impressed that they let us move around the factory floor so freely, getting in the way of workers and weaving in and out of machinery. The old sweats on the tour were admiring the way that Airstream aluminum trailer skins, internal and external, are riveted onto aluminum ribs, just like an aircraft, and formed into the curved, aerodynamic shape that makes them both distinctive and easy to tow; it was all old technology but was is well proven. We did see a European model in production, narrower and complete with lightweight aluminum frame and European style hitch. They don't fit these out with furniture or fittings at Jackson Center, that's done with local products in Cumbria in the UK, much to the chagrin of quite a few US customers who really like the idea of a proper lightweight trailer rather than the monsters sold for the North American market. Mind you, the European models are a third more expensive than their US equivalents, so may be the Yankees won't like them after all.

I'm in real danger of getting into nerd country here so I'll just say that we all enjoyed the tour and did spend some loot in the gift shop, scallywags that we are, and then we'll fast forward a little to the trip home. 

Back on the I75 we were heading north again, this time to Toledo, on the Ohio and Michigan borders. The land around is flat and scenery ordinary, unless you appreciate corn and soya beans as field crops, then it would have been fascinating. Toledo was a very industrialsed town but has been hit hard in the downturns of recent years, because like a lot if US industry, it has been unable or unwilling to move with the times. As a result, the town looks shabby and tends to fall into the category of "A Town To Pass Through", which is a shame because with a name like Toledo it ought to be an exciting place; well, in my mind anyway.

We needed a stop before Detroit so called in at a Cracker Barrel, "Half restaurant, half country store" at Munroe. This was a chain restaurant and one that we'd passed just about everywhere we'd been to on this trip. Unfortunately the fare on offer wasn't great, mostly meat, and the country store was just a gift shop; the service in both was perfunctory at best, too, which was a shame after the warmth of the southern States. Still, we were nearly home and we motored the last remaining miles up the I75 to the edge of Detroit. Now Detroit is also a city that's fallen on hard times, calamitous even, but in the soft evening light the skyscrapers of the Downtown area looked impressive, especially with the sun glinting off the Renaissance Center. Getting off the I75 and onto the Ambassador Bridge wasn't as straightforward as the the trip in the opposite direction. The bridge's owners have been in dispute with the State government about the access roads and in failing to demolish their duty free shop as per the agreements made, the east bound access to the bridge cannot be completed. This in turn means a lot of part completed flyovers (with signage I noted) and the poor bridge users condemned to a slalom of cones and pier supports in order actually get on the bridge. The irony in all this is that both the State of Michigan and the Province of Ontario are well advanced in plans to build a new bridge to ease all this nonsense once and for all, but guess what? The Ambassador Bridge owners are pushing every legal obstacle they can to prevent the publicly funded bridge being built; talk about protecting your interests.

Once we had negotiated the bridge we then went through the Canadian border formalities, where I was posed questions like "How do you know these people?" and "Where did you get these immigration papers", designed (I hope) to ensure that I was who I said I was and that I didn't have false papers, all of which the border guard had checked already on his computer system. Hurrumph. 

Then it was the last leg, 50 miles to home, uneventful fortunately, and pleasing because the trailer running lights looked very nice in the fading light. We made a real hash of backing Towed Haul onto the drive, which is what happens when you're tired, but thought it best not to get too fussy and left it slightly askew in the vain hope that it might annoy our trailer hating neighbour a few doors up.

Tomorrow the aftermath; ten tons of washing, unpacking everything, cleaning..... it's good to be home. 

My next entry will be a reflective piece on the whole trip and, even though Mrs T isn't very keen on these things, some facts and figures. Here's on to leave you with, we traveled a total of 6,755 kms, that's 4,197 miles, with only a slightly flat tire as a problem. Excellent!

 

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 17, Tuesday

Having pumped up the troublesome tyre the previous evening, it'd gone down by 6 psi overnight and therefore was in need of some care and attention. So, at 7.20am I set off into Maryville for Matlock's Tire and Auto Service, operating hours 7am to 5pm. Yes, you saw that correctly, open at 7am! The place wasn't some back street garage, either, housed as it was in a new unit close to a shopping mall. Having handed over the car keys, I sat back in a leather, wing backed chair, sipped my coffee and settled down to read about the history of Blount County. Did you know that the mother of the famous World War I military commander, General John J. Pershing, came from Blount County? Well you do now. An hour later and with the tyre fixed, ($18 total bill and a three inch bolt removed from the tyre), and it was back to the campground to hitch up and head off on our penultimate day of travelling; 400 miles to northern Ohio.

Our destination was the little town of Jackson Center, just 7 miles off the I75, home of the Airstream factory and birthplace of Towed Haul. We had wanted to do one of their free factory tours, to see how our baby was put together, and to spend some loot in their gift shop, and this was the perfect opportunity. If we'd have been slightly better organised we might have arranged with the Service Center at the factory to have a couple of warranty items on Towed Haul sorted out, but we're not so it'll be back to the dealers' at the end of the season. Sadly, I think the dealer will do a better job.

But first we had to get to Ohio. The man in the Sat Nav had sorted us a good route out through Knoxville where we crossed the majestic Tennessee River a couple of times. It put me in mind of second year geography and talk of the TVA, the Tennessee Valley Authority, formed to create dams for hydro-electric power and to minimise flooding. I always imagined that I learned nothing at school, but clearly I did; nothing useful of course, but learn stuff I did. From Knoxville we passed over the last big mountains on the western edge of the Appalachians, beautiful, wooded but steep, and on into Kentucky. It's at this point that I sing the praises of the Toadmobile as it hauled 7,000lbs of trailer up the grades and then down the other side with very little complaint. Sure, the petrol usage gets a bit scary and coming down hill is always a trial, low gear and light on the brakes, but we made it all the same and I couldn't help thinking of all those detractors who told us that our car wouldn't pull an Airstream.

Kentucky came and went, past Lexington and the horse park, past Boonesborough and down Death Hill to the Ohio River and Cincinnati, Ohio's first and last town on this route, if you see what I mean. All through this transition from mountain to field, state to state, the Tadpoles either slept or watched DVDs with the blinds on the windows resolutely closed. Mrs T says that I must have been an odd kid because I always looked out of the window when travelling with my family, but I still find it strange that anyone would not want to take in what was going past their eyes. OK, I was an odd kid!

From Cincinnati we rolled onto Dayton, then onwards towards Jackson Center. Actually, we were staying at Indian Lake State Park, about 12 miles outside Jackson Center, despite being able to camp at the Airstream factory for just $10 if we had wished to. Airstreamers are a nutty crowd and refer to the factory as “The Mothership”; we can't bring ourselves to do this (nor wear plaid shirts, name badges and blue berets, but that's another story), so we drove past the factory and onto Indian Lake for the night. The road from the highway, past the factory and on towards the east was as straight as an arrow for the 13 miles we travelled on it and quite possibly well beyond. It had a slight undulation and was flanked with telegraph poles and couldn't have been anywhere else except rural USA, at least according to Hollywood, for years my only source for things American. Indeed, I could well imagine the planners marking this road (and most of the others) on the map with a pencil and a very long ruler!

I'd often wondered what brought the Airstream factory to a little country town in Ohio, from it's original position in California. Well, it's probably be the same thing that brought the huge Honda Transmission plant that we discovered on the edge of Indian Lake; state subsidies. Clearly people around here had jobs to go to.

As we approached the lake we could see a plume of black smoke and as we neared the campground, having to avoid speeding emergency vehicles on the way, it looked for all the world that the fire was on the State Park campground. However, there was no flap whatsoever amongst the Park's staff so we could only assume that the fire was just next door. Goodness! Such excitement and on our last night, too. The campground was huge but flat, grassy and very neat, complete with little concrete hard stands for each site. After filling Towed Haul's water tank, for the first time on this trip (no water on the individual stands), we made our way to our allotted space. It turned out to be in a totally uninhabited part of the site (where was everybody?) so our little silver mansion on wheels was all alone at the end of a long, long loop. Of course, being miserable oiks with no social graces, we actually prefer being stuck in the boondocks as it allows us to beat the Tadpoles and no one hears the screams. I should point out at this juncture that no Tadpoles were harmed in the creation of the blog; it's just artistic license. And wishful think of course.

No sooner had we set up, carefully avoiding getting the awning out, the sky went apocalyptic black and unleashed a huge downpour of rain and hail. The last night was shaping up in the same way as the first night that offered some unsolicited symmetry for the trip, which pleased me in some unaccountable way. The rain gave way to lightning and more rain so we simply settled back, enjoyed our Tuna Helper (much better than Hamburger Helper) and achieved yet more symmetry as it was almost the same meal that we'd had on our first night out.

Mrs T and the Tadpoles played cards for the remainder of the evening whilst I wrote of our adventures. I eventually gave up, though, because I was falling asleep at the keyboard. Tomorrow we make our way to the Airstream factory and then, after the tour, we head home. It's a little over 200 miles, so one of the shorter legs on the trip, albeit that we have to negotiate the US/Canadian border which will, as it always does, add time.

My plan will be to do a final, concluding entry to the blog, complete with facts and figures. That said, as I plan to sleep for a week on my return, it may be a little while in the publication.....

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 16, Monday

Still no rain overnight so the awning trick really does work. I woke to more sunny skies and rising temperatures with only the RMS Titanic on my mind. Yes indeed, today was our trip to the Titanic Museum/Attraction (their description, not mine) in the lovely tourist spot of Pigeon Forge, which is on the edge of the Great Smoky Mountains National Park. I find the prospect of a half scale model of the front end of the Titanic in rural Tennessee faintly ridiculous, but we'd booked to go and go we did.

Pigeon Forge, I'm reliably informed, used to be a forge and mill and nothing more. Today, though, it's a couple of miles of tatty tourist attractions (King Tut's Tomb, The Elvis Museum and numerous Adventure Kart tracks), hotels and fast food outlets. The traffic through there is constant and all the parking lots on this Monday morning well full, cars originating from all over the US and Canada. The Titanic attraction was no exception.

We were greeted by “Crew Members” in either maids' outfits (sorry lads, not that kind of maids' outfit) or Merchant Navy garb and led into the museum in a very orderly manner; no gum, cameras or cell phones allowed, though, on pain of being keel hauled. Far from being ridiculous, the museum was a pretty well stocked and excellently laid out affair, taking you through from the building of the liner, to it's maiden voyage and of course its demise. We were led through third, second and first class lounges and cabins, complete with much White Star paraphernalia, most of it not claiming to be from the Titanic but certainly of the style that would have been on that ship. It also concentrated on the people involved from financiers to architects to shipbuilders to crew and of course to passengers. On entering, everyone is given a card with the name of a passenger or crew member on it and you go round looking for references to that person and at the end, check them off against the roll of the dead and the survivors. I was Charles Lightoller, one of the ships' officers and the one whose memoirs formed the basis of the film A Night To Remember, I was Kenneth Moore for the day!

There was a full scale recreation of the top of the ships' Grand Staircase (surely not a nautical term), some ice to touch (cunningly woven into the model of part of the bridge) and a trough that contained water at 28F, the temperature of the sea that night just of The Grand Banks; boy it was cold.

We spent two hours in there, albeit that two minutes was too much for the Tadpoles (Where's the simulator? Was the cry) and actually quite enjoyed it. Mind you, it was cold in there, and not just on the exterior of the bridge, so it was a welcome relief to get back into the scorching heat outside.

After lunch we made our way up to Newfound Gap, 5,000 feet up and the lowest mountain crossing point in the area. The road up there was exceptionally good, well paved and although very twisty, was never very steep. The vegetation changed markedly from the bottom to the top and we followed a fast running stream for the whole distance, which gave the whole scene a varied look. At the Gap there is a parking area and a monument to a Rockefeller (can't remember which one) who donated money to buy the last remaining bits of land to form the National Park. The views up there were simply stunning, in all directions and I could have stayed for quite a while had we had the time. The parking lot straddled the State line between Tennessee and North Carolina so the front end of the car was in TN and the rear in NC, which I think you'll agree is pretty exciting stuff! It's also one of the points at which the fabled Appalachian Trail, or AT, crosses a road so I had to have a short hike along it (about 25 feet) just to say that I'd hiked the AT. OK so I still had 1200 miles to get to its northerly point at Katahdin, Maine or 900 miles to its southerly point At Springer Mountain in Georgia. If you've ever read Bill Bryson's excellent A Walk In The Woods, you'll know all about, especially Newfound Gap and the redoubtable Gatlinburg.

Of course, as we arrived and I switched off the engine on the car, the heavens opened and dumped a considerable quantity of rain on us. The air temperature was already ten degrees lower than in Pigeon Forge and the rain served to cool things off even more, but after the sweaty two weeks we'd had, it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. When the rain moved off, though, we were treated to a real natural spectacle as huge clouds of steam rose rapidly off the trees on every slope, looking for all the world like smoke from a fire. Well, these are the Smoky Mountains.

Running very low on gas, we took a particularly twisty route back down the mountain where I don't think I actually used the gas pedal and only met a couple of cars on the entire stretch, which was a relief. Yes, we managed to get down without running out of fuel but, on a slightly more worrying note, I think the Toadmobile has a slow puncture on one of the rear tyres. Tut.

Back at the campground, Mrs T and I took a rare opportunity to sit and chat in the sunshine whilst enjoying a drink, free from the Tadpoles' attentions; they were Facebooking, of course. The rain came later this evening and, as it had done at Newfound Gap, dropped the temp off a few degrees, allowing us to switch off the A/C and open the Towed Haul's windows for a change. Even now, at 11 PM, the wind is wafting in as is the sound of the Tree Frogs, making for very pleasant blogging conditions.

Tomorrow is a travelling day, 400 miles, and I hope I don't have to get that tyre fixed yet. Ohio is looming and the final excursion of the Grand Tour. Here's hoping that you'll tune in tomorrow.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 15, Sunday

I woke up to a wildly flapping awning, grey skies and a stiff breeze; awning "in" should improve the weather I thought, and so it did. This campground is nestled in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains and the wind tends to funnel down the gap in the hills half a mile up the road, but once the awning was in, the wind dropped and the sun appeared so at at least I now know how to control the weather these days.

Today was the family visitation but first we had to head out to Wal Mart for some supplies, which was no great problem. We left the Tadpoles in bed with strict instructions to get up, make their beds and be ready for the off on our return. I had a quick chat with “Ozark Jim”, our neighbour, who has a rather nice custom built Winnebago motor home and a 650cc “scooter”, and off we trotted. A while later, on our return and having warned them we were nearly there, the Tadpoles let the side down with only one bed made, sheets and pillows still on the floor, and the other one not touched. Mrs T hit the roof (quite rightly) and said Tadpoles were sent in disgrace to the Bathhouse whilst we sorted the trailer out. It was very peaceful for the remainder of the morning, I can tell you, with the feeble excuses proffered being brushed aside, and the laptop computer hidden from from the miscreants.

Then it was time to visit the relatives, my uncle and aunt who'd left the UK in 1971 for a couple of years and never returned. Not that I think dear old Blighty was really the problem but the opportunities are so good over here if you have the wherewithal to take them, which Roger and Pauline did. I hadn't seen Roger in probably 20 years and Pauline the best part of 40, so it was good to meet up with them. Roger, being my mum's younger brother, looked and sounded much like my mum but also like my elder and younger brothers, which I suppose is what ought to happen but it's still a bit uncanny, though. Pauline was much as I remembered her and despite the passage of time had hardly changed at all. Their house was lovely, if a little on the large side for the two of them, in a nice part of town and was occupied by three enormous Golden Retrievers and an imported cat. Pauline helps run a rescue service for Retrievers, hence the dogs, and she inherited the cat from an Aunt in England, and I have to say all managed to rub along very well. I have to mention the enormous fish in the pond, too, because the Tapoles were agog. We exchanged photographs and reminiscences, as you do on these occasions, and then had a lovely meal at a local restuarant courtesy of Roger's company; it's OK, it's his company.

During the meal, Roger had ordered the Calamari as a starter and the big tadpole tucked into it, quite unaware that he was eating squid; he doesn't normally eat fish so we were surprised he'd taken such an interest in it. A few mouthfuls in and he was looking a bit green and, looking up, he said “I thought this was bread”. Calamari, Ciabatta, well you can see how it happened...... He's recovering now.

Still no rain and still exotic temperatures, we drove back to the campground watching the lightning light the clouds above the mountains. We battened things down and I sat out watching the storm lighting the clouds but here in the foothills it stayed dry and calm. Of course it did, I didn't get the awning out!

Tomorrow we head up into the mountains and to the tacky delights of Pigeon Forge. Where else but 3000 feet up in the Smoky Mountains would you find a half scale model of the Titanic? I'm also hoping to get to Newfound Gap, about 5,000 feet up and on the border with North Carolina and on the Appalachian Trail. If you've read Bill Bryson at all, you'll know about it. Check in tomorrow for more exciting adventures of Toads in trailers.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 14, Saturday

I was up early, as is my wont, and sat outside Towed Haul putting my blog together whilst the DeSoto Caverns playground came to life. First it was the piped music, banjo laced country, which gave the place a surreal feel given that the park was themed on the Spanish explorer DeSoto, although maybe DeSoto liked his Bluegrass, who knows? Then it was the customers, arriving at 9am on the dot, no doubt to avoid the heat of the later day. The rest of Team Toad were a little slower in moving but it was a short driving day so that didn't really matter.

We discovered that we'd been overrun by ants and that they were everywhere. I'd seen people spraying their stablizers the night before and now I knew why. A bit of retrospective spraying, inside and out, helped a bit but I think we were a tad late. We were eventually away by midday, chucking out time, and headed back to Childersburg against the wishes of the Sat Nav. I'd seen some of the back roads here and the torturous route it had planned wasn't going to be great for us towing the trailer. Even on the fairly major road it was narrow and twisty, making the going slow but at least it afforded us the opportunity to look at the countryside. We'd already seen that a lot of Americans live in very old trailer homes, that is the sort of thing that you might get in a static caravan park, only they were about 30 years old and usually plonked down in a field. These homes ranged from reasonable to something that would make your garden shed look palatial, and all looked as if they'd taken root over many years; in rural Alabama they were everywhere and served to remind us of the contrasts again.

Heading north we entered Pell City, nice enough but the sort of place that young people want to get away from, then moved into a hillier, more wooded area that had fewer but more affluent homes. The drive was actually very pleasant and the fuel consumption went from “Aaargh!” to just “Ouch!”, which was a bonus.

We eventually reached the highway and made for Knoxville, passing through Alabama, a tiny bit of Georgia and Tennessee on the way. The road surface north of Birmingham was hideous, Towed Haul jumping about more than I like, which was then compounded with a 15 mile section of single line roadway, on the southbound side of the freeway, where I had a concrete barrier on one side and slight dip on the other. I found that if I ran a safe distance from the barrier then the trailer kept dropping into the dip and pulling the car about, but if I ran close to the wall I could avoid all that movement. The lesser of the two evils, close to the barrier, was chosen but I still emerged from that section with my hands and neck aching badly from the extra concentration. I knew that all my shirts would have jumped of the wardrobe rail by the time we were through for the day. As an aside, we saw quite a few dead armadillos on the shoulder, some squashed and some just laying on their backs with their legs in the air. Armadillos are not, of course, indigenous to North America but they have thrived since escaping from zoos and private owners. I say thrived but I don't think that those living near the highway were thriving.

We were making steady progress when we crossed back into the Eastern Time Zone and promptly lost an hour. Then we stopped at the redoubtable IHOP (International House of Pancakes) for supper. Now IHOP occupied a special place in my heart as on a work trip to the US a few years ago I'd eaten many pancakes and waffles in an IHOP outlet at ridiculous times in the early morning. I had no idea if IHOP had thrived, maybe it had gone the way of the roadside armadillo, but here was a chance to find out and into a vacant parking lot next to the restaurant we rolled, fortunate that it was there as we'd never have been able to get Towed Haul into the IHOP lot. Copious amounts of drinks, waffles and pancakes later, we all agreed that whilst not great cuisine, it was cheap and cheerful and that view was clearly supported by the steady stream of locals in and out of the place.

We were only about 40 minutes from the campground, so it was a gentle run through, heading straight towards the Smoky Mountains, looming up ahead of us. The Smokys are a part of the Appalachian chain, an ancient range stretching from Southern Georgia right up into Maine and even Quebec and New Brunswick in Canada. The Appalachians were once as high as the Himalayas but time has eroded them to rounded, tree covered hills; still high and still large but on a smaller and more agreeable scale. They looked wonderful in the evening light.

Our campsite was nestling in a narrow gap between two mountains and stood by a neat little river. It was a commercial site so the RVs were lined up in fairly close proximity, but the facilities were good with a pool, games room and WiFi, all designed for the Tadpoles' enjoyment. By the time we were set up, it was getting dark so a short swim for the Tadpoles and a bit of planning time for us, saw us settled in and ready for bed. All this in the comfort of temperatures only in the mid-twenties, which was a welcome relief after the Gulf Coast and Florida.

Tomorrow will see us visiting my Aunt and Uncle in Knoxville, which should be good. My Aunt still has a broad Dorset accent, even after 40 years over here, so I'm looking forward to talking to her! Catch up tomorrow for tales of familial cordiality, or something like that.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 13, Friday

A travelling day so the alarm was set for six, and as I sat and looked at my cell phone display I realised that it was still on Eastern time rather than Central and I was an hour later than planned, albeit that I'd woken up well before the alarm had sounded. Oh dear I thought. Well, not Oh Dear, but this is family reading so Oh Dear it is. I woke Mrs T, as usual, and made off for a shower. As I made my way down to the bathhouse in the semi dark, I did keep an eye out for alligators, there being a “beach” area on the edge of the drainage canal down at that end of the campground, perfect for the beasts to leave the water. I felt faintly ridiculous even thinking it but the “Don't Feed The Gators” sign was there for all to see. As I glanced at my watch I thought “Oh Dear” again. Apparently my cell phone was on Central Time after all and I was up about 45 minutes earlier than I should have been. It wasn't even six when I returned to the trailer to find that Mrs T had discovered my confusion. Oh dear!

Anyway, at least I had time to enjoy the marginally cooler time of the day and catch up with the blogs. As it happened, we did a bit more washing before leaving (you don't turn down a bank of washing machines lightly when you're two weeks into your trip) and were hitched and ready to go by nine. The Tadpoles were dopey and sat in the back of the Toadmobile in a stupor whilst we hit the I10, this time north, and set our course for Birmingham, Alabama.

The drive took us up a good road through Mississippi, then into Alabama. We stopped for lunch at a Waffle House in Meridian, Mississippi, and again enjoyed the ambiance of a small town diner. We'd managed to get Towed Haul neatly parked in the lot, and I even tried to run Mrs T over when she was directing and whilst tucked away at the back, I wondered if anyone would block us in. The food in these places isn't great but waffles, omelets, grits and hash browns were all consumed whilst the diner buzzed with life. There was drama when a group walked in and then walked out again and our young server seemed to get told off by the supervisor because she showed “attitude” to the turn arounds. I'm not sure why but she turned to Mrs T to explain that it wasn't fair that she should get the blame, looking most aggrieved. Then someone chose to park in front of the Toadmoble, this despite there being more than enough room to park elsewhere in the lot. I had visions of asking a toothless Mississippian, in my lovely English accent, kindly move his big white pickup truck but was saved from that ordeal when I realised that I could scoot out around him. Phew!

Back on the road, we seemed to be driving though an endless corridor of trees, set a way back from the edge of the road but offering no view of the surrounding land at all. Through Tuscaloosa, we branched off just before getting to Birmingham and went along the by-pass until we turned East towards Childersburg, up through a big mountain and down the other side, getting tied up in the Friday traffic escaping from Birmingham. We went through the town of Chelsea, which was nice, and travelled the pleasant, if hilly, road out to our destination.

We were staying at a place called Desoto Caverns, about 5 miles outside Childersburg, mostly because it was just a short hop to the covered bridge and grist mill at Kymulga. Desoto Caverns is a series of caves named for Hernadez DeSoto, a Spanish explorer who was influential in opening up the South well before Daniel Boone and his buddies were around. The trouble is that the Caverns have been somewhat commercialised and we were parked on the edge of a kid's playground; train rides, gold panning and goats, that sort of thing.

The actual site we were allocated was billed as a “pull thru”, which means we should be able to drive in then out again. Unfortunately that isn't possible because there's a motor home two pitches down, blocking the road and, after we'd set up, it looked very like the campground owners wanted a 35 foot 'Fifth Wheel' trailer to go into the small gap between us and the motor home. Very politely I explained to the people behind the desk that it wouldn't work and fortunately they relented, even though the guy in the fifth wheeler didn't have a 50 amp power supply where they eventually put him. “I guess I can get by on one air conditioner” he said.

We decided against a Cavern tour on account of it being vaguely religious, based of the Book of Genesis apparently, and headed off to see the covered bridge. Sadly that was all closed up but we did manage to get a few pictures, albeit that it wasn't in the Bridges Of Madison County league. We may go back tomorrow if we can scare up the required $6, but we might not! We gassed up in Childersburg at the world's cheapest, and busiest, gas station. It was significant that in a town that had hardly any functioning businesses, everyone was paying cash for their petrol; the financial problems of this country have hit very hard in the rural areas and credit, of any form, is so hard to come by (I read that somewhere and it looks to be correct).

We ate at home, going through the fridge and using up all the spare stuff, then went out into the dark to see the humungous frogs on the little pond next to us that were making the most awful din.

Tomorrow we travel again, this time to Tennessee and the Misty River Campground on the edge of the Great Smokey Mountains National Park. It's Dolly Parton country and is as touristy as it is beautiful. It's also less than 300 miles so we get a lie in! More tomorrow folks.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 12, Thursday

So, New Orleans. Great cosmopolitan city, the birthplace of Jazz, the home of the Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau, above ground cemeteries and the mighty Mississippi and, more recently, the scars of Hurricane Katrina. Did we survive? Was it worth the trip? Well, yes, we did survive and yes, it was worth the trip, but maybe next time we visit it won't be in high summer and we'll travel without the Tadpoles.

Mrs T had gleaned enough from the locals to assure us that a drive into the French Quarter would be OK and that off-road parking would be available, so we set off in confident mood, peeling off the I10 onto a boulevard called Elysian Fields, which would take us right to where we needed to be. To look down the boulevard was lovely with the wide spreading Live Oaks forming a long archway into the distance. This is one of the older, and poorer, parts of town so a glance sideways showed dilapidated wooden buildings close to collapse and dereliction all around. Quite a few of the houses still bore the Katrina markings, the crosses with numbers around left there by the emergency services six years ago. Of course, this being the poor district, nearly every face was black.

We ended up on Decatur Street on the south side of the French Quarter and found parking near Jackson Square. We stood on the levee and watched the river roll by for a while, then descended into the old grid of Creole two story houses, their second floor balconies making shade for people on the sidewalk below. This all sounds good but the place was blisteringly hot and humid. So many of the houses are given over to shops selling New Orleans tat and on Bourbon Street, the hub of the district, competing bars tried to outdo one another with live music spilling out of their doors, making an unbearable and chaotic din. I didn't hear any jazz at all! There were also the guys on the street with placards offering cheap drinks and trying to get you into their bar; not good with two Tadpoles in tow.

We decided on a Cafe au lait and a plate of beignets, Acadian fritters/doughnuts, hidden under a mound of icing sugar. We sat under the stone pillars in the hot and crowded cafe, watching the people in Decatur Street ambling by and I thought how fabulous it was just to be there, despite the chaos and the heat.

We'd opted for a coach tour of the city, primarily because it would be in air conditioned comfort, but that way we'd be guided by someone who knew where they were going. As it turned out, the coach tour was a bit of a damp squib with our driver/guide boring the pants off everyone with very slowly told but long-winded anecdotes. We did see the whole gamut of New Orleans architecture, the street cars, the water pumping gear and the remnants of the hurricane damage, but stuck on the bus for two hours with Bob the boring busman was very wearing.

Back in the French Quarter we spent an age buying a Mardi Gras mask for the small Tadpole and a Saints hat for the big Tadpole; many pints of sweat were lost on that jaunt, I can tell you. We were wilting when we fell into an Italian restaurant (allowed because there's a big Italian influence in the town) for our supper. Before we ordered, Mrs T dragged me out to buy a gris-gris bag and looked more than a little surprised that we didn't have enough dollars left (see shopping trip above) to buy it (cue Amex). On returning to the restaurant, we indulged in Po' Boys, fries and pasta, which was a good fusion of local tastes, believe it or not. N returning to the campground, we dropped the Tadpoles off, bought gas, went to Walmart then did a ton of washing (three machines at once, which I liked); no wonder I fell asleep in front of the TV.

Friday was set for a travelling day, so an early start was required and bed was needed urgently. Not, though, until I'd brought the bloody awning in again!

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 11, Wednesday

Up with the lark, or maybe that should be the Snowy Egret, we set off early for Oak Alley Plantation, which was about 30 miles to the west of New Orleans. There were other plantations to visit, some probably nearer, but this one is a National Historic Monument and a particularly good example of a Creole Plantation house. It also gave us the chance to drive through New Orleans, or at least speed by on the highway, and gauge how the city was recovering from Katrina. The first thing to see was the old bridge across the narrow part of Lake Pontchartrain, that used to carry the main I10 highway. We were on the new bridge, only opened very recently, whilst the old bridge was being demolished. It had taken the brunt of the tide surge and lost a couple of spans completely, the remainder of the bridge being too badly damaged to repair. Then we were into the suburbs of the city and there are still many houses boarded up, empty retail parking lots where the shop had been demolished, and derelict apartment blocks. There were also many repaired homes with bright new roofs, new homes, quite a lot of them in brick, which is unusual in North America, and quite a lot of bridge repair work still going on. Whilst it's definitely a resurgent city, the tragedy is that there are still tens of thousands of the city's poorest still in temporary accommodation. What a nightmare.

Out of the other side of New Orleans and the hurricane damage was less obvious. We came across the mighty Mississippi on a very high and very new bridge and had a great view of that mighty river. It took me right back to second year geography with the ships and barges on the muddy water and the Levees high on each side. Fabulous stuff.

Off into the countryside, we were alternately in swamp land or vast fields of sugar cane, a crop that has sustained this area for hundreds of years and one that I'd never seen growing, other than in those Geography books. We pitched up at Oak Alley, nestled as it is against one of the river's Levees, and found that it is indeed a very handsome place. An avenue of Live Oak trees that pre-date the house by more than a hundred years, offer a wonderful view of the antebellum mansion, all very Gone With The Wind. It was $40 to get in, for all of us, and for that we cruised the grounds and had a guided tour of the house, given by a very knowledgeable Cajun fellow who had googly eyes. The tour was of and about the house, and was quite whimsical in it's nature. I do think Mrs T was a bit disappointed that more wasn't made of the harshness of the lives of the slaves that serviced the plantation and the guide pretty much skipped over that side of things. However, it was a morning of relative culture for us toads and we appreciated that, even if it was blooming hot!

Oak Alley had been used as a set for a number of films and TV series, including Interview With The Vampire, which we will now be watching with much interest.

On the way back we paused to climb the Levee and look at the Mississippi, busy with ships, wide and very muddy. Not so long ago it had been threatening to break the Levees as the floods were bad this year, but today it looked benign; big but benign.

We took a punt on lunch and ended up at a Louisiana food buffet place, tacked onto the front of a shopping mall. It was basic stuff, and cheap enough, but the dishes served were wonderful, Cajun specialities. Gumbo, fried chicken, catfish and a whole raft of other stuff that I can't remember the names of. We had to pay up front (no problem for us) and the owner explained that they'd opened a few days after Katrina and so many people walked out without paying that they had to change the system. Apparently the place, New Orleans that is, had gone mad at the time. Anyway, it was all you can eat so we ate all we could, including the scrummy bread pudding. I could hardly move!

Then we had a mad dash back to campground to restock on water before heading out on our swamp tour. It was only about 15 minutes drive away but we were running late so had to get a wiggle on. Getting there, we passed many nice houses that were all on stilts; not just small pilings but complete twelve foot high stilts. I wondered about the flooding in this area and how good a swimmer you needed to be.

At Cajun Encounters swamp tours, we parted with a load of dollars and boarded a small aluminium boat that promptly set off down the White Pearl River. The guide was funny and knowledgeable, imparting much information not only about the wildlife but the effects of Katrina. The river and bayou system had been altered irrevocably, not necessarily for the worse, and it was making people do things differently, including these tours. Most people on the boat were there for the 'gators and weren't disappointed. From quite small to very large, the 'gators slid through the water obligingly and tempted by hot dog, chicken and marshmallow (yes, marshmallow), they came up to the boat and even allowed a certain amount handling (by the guide, not the tourists!). I didn't realise that 'gators are still hunted in parts of the US, this despite Alligator farms having to constantly restock the wild supply. I guess the freedom to hunt for sport is enshrined in all the other “liberties” here. Fortuately, the part of the swamp where the tour was is protected so these 'gators can grow fat and happy on the hot dogs and chicken thrown to them by the tour guides. Well, those things supplement the creature's diets, I'm sure that as wild animals they can find their own food!

The guide nosed the boat into a very narrow bayou and we sat there in the swamp, surrounded by wet trees all draped in Spanish Moss and it was very atmospheric. It reminded me of an old American Dracula film that I'd seen, set in such a place, where no one had worked out that Count Alucard was actually Count Dracula. Curiously enough, parts of Interview With The Vampire were filmed here, too, so the old bloodsucker is partial to a Louisiana swamp, even though he comes from Transylvania, deep in the Carpathian Mountains of Central Europe!

Anyway, the tour was great and the Tadpoles loved it. The guide was all for throwing a couple of children in for the 'gators to play with and his best line was “So you eat a couple of children and you're labelled a monster”. Excellent.

Cajun Encounters is to be recommended not only for its tours but also it's comprehensive and surprisingly inexpensive gift shop. Oh, and its free advice on driving into New Orleans, even if the restaurant recommended looks suspiciously like it might be run by Cajun Encounters itself.

It was late and we needed feeding again so we headed into downtown Slidell and stumbled upon Bonnie C's. This was newly opened bar cum restaurant, only on it's second night, run by the rather daunting Bonnie herself, or Miss Bonnie as I heard the very camp waiter call her. Now Bonnie is clearly a lovely lady but she either eats sandpaper between meals or smokes sixty a day, because her voice was taking the paint off the walls. It scared the Tadpoles! That said, even if the orders were a little jumbled up, the food was excellent and again, inexpensive. What's more the place was open after 8pm! So, if you're ever in Slidell, LA, we can recommend Bonnie C's; nice grub and nice people.

To round off our very full day, we hit something called Winn Dixie, a supermarket (that was open) and had some form of loyalty card scheme going that entitled you to savings. Obviously not being local we didn't qualify for said card but Mrs T persuaded the check out operator to give us the discounts anyway; that girl can sure twist arms.

Bed was beckoning so the blog had to wait. Tomorrow we are setting course for New Orleans and the French Quarter, newly armed with our local knowledge. Will we survive? I hope so, read on here and find out!

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 10, Tuesday

Another travel day, but this time a short one, so a slow start was in order. At about 9 am, Mrs T and I left the Tadpoles in bed and went off to the beach for a quick paddle and some photographs. When I say that the Tadpoles were in bed, I mean that one of them was, the other, the big one, was all set to go stalking his Dutch Delight again but we made him stay in the trailer to look after his sister; has there ever been a face so long, I wonder?

At the beach, even at that hour, there were a few people sunbathing. Certainly it was marginally cooler (only 29C) and the wind wasn't up yet, so I guess it was ideal for them. Oh, and neither was there any rain in sight, that arrives late afternoon. Paddling completed and photographs taken, it was back to Towed Haul for microwaved pancakes and strawberry jam, a camper's breakfast if ever there was one. Packing up and hitching was hot work, although we are getting more efficient now, and we were ready for the off before midday; New Orleans was calling. I did have to check out the low tyre pressure warning I'd been getting on the Toadmobile and ended up putting a bit of air in one of the tyres; we certainly didn't want a blow out on the motorway. I'd asked the Tadpoles if they'd like to take the scenic coast road via Pensacola or take the freeway; “Scenic Route!” they cried. By the time we'd reached the gates of the park they had both fired up their DVD players and were otherwise engaged, so I set course for the freeway.

The outside temperature gauge on the toadmobile read 36C as we climbed away from the coast and then west on the I10 towards Mobile, Alabama, and I wondered what we ever did before cool air was available in cars as it would have been unbearable without it. Again, I locked it up at about 60 mph and let the miles go by. The speed limit on the I10 is 70 mph and most heavy lorries do at least that speed, if not more, so my sedate 60 mph meant that they were overtaking me all the time. Even without the trailer, a big “Semi” (as it's known here) passing you sucks the car in a bit as you deal with the bow wave of air. With a 7,000lb trailer, the effect is exaggerated somewhat and I spent the next few hours routinely being sucked into the vortex created by the slipstreams from Semis, which if nothing else is good for keeping you awake. We passed from Florida into Alabama, from Alabama into Mississippi and from Mississippi into Louisiana, all in the space of 250 miles; four states in one (short) day was pretty good!

Arriving at the campground, our first ever fully commercial campground,we were disappointed in what we found. Firstly, the much vaunted free shuttle bus into New Orleans wasn't running as they'd lost their driver (perhaps he's still wandering around New Orleans with a bus load of tourists?). Naturally I volunteered for the task but the woman behind the desk didn't like that idea one little bit, the spoilsport. Then the actual site was a bit chintzy, lined up just a few feet from two other trailers and with a sewer connection that was way too high for our low running mansion on wheels. Finally there was the other campers, the scourge of the commercial trailer park, those people who occupy a site for many months and turn it into a scrapyard or junk heap; this campground had many of those. We've only ever stayed at State or Provincial parks where the golden rule is that you can't stay more than a few weeks at a time, but here in the land of profit, campground owners are happy to take season long bookings as it's money in the bank for them, but I don't think they care that they end up with a squatters camp. Hey Ho. On the plus side, there was a pool and a few diversions for the Tadpoles and, reports from the Bath House were favourable, quite possibly because I think it was quite new. I should temper any criticism of the site with the fact that it was pretty much wiped out by Hurricane Katrina and six years later, things are just getting back to normal.

Supper this fine evening was one of Mrs T's own concoctions that I must say went down very well, especially the third helping. The rain stayed away (and we had the awning out!) but the temperature stayed well above 30C into the night and the humidity was at 100%. As with everywhere around here, we were close the water and the Tadpoles became more than a little worried at the “Do Not Feed The Gators” sign and the notice in the camp rules about not leaving garbage outside because it attracts alligators. They both double checked the lock on the door of the trailer although I feel it would have had to have been a particularly dextrous, and hungry, alligator that foiled an Airstream door.

The next day is set aside for a Plantation House visit and a swamp tour; I've told the Tadpoles that I can't find any anti-gator spray so they're now very worried.

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 9, Monday

Hot and sunny again but the early break to the store was a good idea, especially as the Tadpoles were still in bed when we left. Fully restocked we set about what was the down day and pottered about getting ourselves straight. Mrs T was right when she said that we'll not be doing the grand tour with the Tadpoles in tow again, it's just too much work keeping everything ship shape in such a small space, especially when that small space keeps moving around. Tours will be for Mrs T and I, we'll park up and stay put when we're accompanied in future. We are trying to instill the value of travel into the little blighters, constantly telling them about routes and relative positions, but they're not really interested; Harry Potter World could have been just down the street from home for all they cared. It's a bit dispiriting, though, when you've just entered your fourth US State of the day and they have to be roused from their DVD players to be told. Actually I was a really nerdy kid and always looked out of the window when travelling with my family way back when, which is how I can still find my way around Cornwall 40 years later, which is most useful when in Cornwall!

I did take the Tadpoles to the beach in the afternoon, where we spent two hours in the green surf, digging bits of fine weed out of our nooks and crannies. The wind was keen, which kept the surf up, but the water was still warm and the air temperature didn't seem to be affected. There weren't very many people about, which is of course a good thing, I suspect they were all sat in front of the hotels and apartments further down the beach.

The clouds were streaming in, as they were the day before, although the beach was still sunlit. I took a peek inland and saw the black clouds and lightning so thought it best to head back. Sure enough, not ten minutes after arriving back, the rain came and we retreated inside again to the cool air. This time, the rain only lasted a couple of minutes so we took the opportunity to head out to Wal Mart in an attempt to solve the Internet access issue (why Wal Mart? It's a long story). I then spent the next couple of hours failing to get things sorted whilst Mrs T went to try and get some washing done at the solitary machine in the bath house. There was a bit of an international incident at the washing machine where Mrs T sort of jumped the queue a bit, albeit that there was no one around when the machine needed to be loaded. Having set the thing running, an irate woman came over to remonstrate that she was next in line, not my dear Mrs T. It was too late to do anything about because the cycle had started but I'm sure the irate lady wasn't best pleased. On later retrieving our washing for the dryer Mrs T, ever the peace maker, apologised and immediately made friends with the now not so irate lady and her daughter. It turned out that they were a family from the Netherlands, posted to Texas with the Apache Helicopter Programme so the Europeans united and spent a while talking of Holland, Germany and things of an Old World nature. Big Tadpole, who has some pretty rampant hormones at the moment, took an immediate liking to the daughter (blonde and pretty) although in his immature manner failed to obtain even a name of said Dutch Delight. He did, though, spend the next few hours (this was 9pm!) trying to stalk the poor girl!

International incidents resolved, we headed to bed with thoughts that as the next leg of our trip was only 250 miles, we wouldn't rush about in the morning. I don't even remember going to bed that evening, but as I woke up in it, I suppose I must have gone!

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 8, Sunday

We must be getting used to this itinerant lifestyle because we were packed and rolling out of the campground before 8 am. First stop, though, was McDonald's for an Internet breakfast and to sort out some iPhone access for Mrs T. It took a tad longer than we'd thought but by 9 am we were back on the road and heading for the I75, northwards this time.

The trip over to Grayton Beach was quite uneventful, thank goodness. North to the I10 then west past Tallahassee (State capital Florida, you know) and then south to the coast. The roads were good, if a little switchback in nature, which was surprising because I though this State was flat. Two stops for gas, awful consumption figures (not sure why) and frequent stops because it was so hot, the car showing 36 and 37 degrees Celsius for most of the trip. We did run into a little rain, well we had to, but as we arrived at Grayton Beach State Park it was still dry, albeit that there were big black clouds to the right and to the left of us.

We'd crossed over into the Central time zone and gained ourselves an hour, which was handy, so we were looking forward to getting onto the white sand and swimming in the Gulf of Mexico. The camp site was small but neat and it didn't take us long to get set up and ready to head the mile or so to the beach. The heat by now was amazing but, given the big storms that looked to be raging on the coast either side of us, we decided not to get the awning out.

The beach was lovely, white sand as far as the eye could see and this part of the coast at least, not spoiled at all. The sea, though, was a curious shade of green, the weed hereabouts having been stirred up by quite rough sea. The water itself, though, was warm; much warmer than the pool at home and considerably warmer than any sea I'd ever been in before. OK, so the pockets on my swim shorts filled up with fine green weed, but it was just great all the same. What was noticeable was that we were in a little oasis of unspoiled coastline, with major development on both sides of the State Park but this little bit remarkably free of anything but sand dunes.

Back at the camp site it was hot and humid, the inside of of air conditioned toad palace being a much better place to be than the steamy outdoors. I'd had visions of sitting out under the awning in the evenings, beer in hand, winding down the day. The heat and humidity, though, make sitting outside a real pain as you break into a sweat just sitting still. I appreciate that this is not a really hot place as we're still far from the equator, however, having never been south of Florida my poor northern tuned body is struggling a bit!

Supper that evening was at Angelina's Pizza and Pasta, a nice if chaotic restaurant on the beach road. On the way there we passed through some really cheesy beach side development, which put me in mind of some of the slightly better places on the Spanish Costas. There's very little public access to the beaches here because the bit between the road and the beach is solid housing; not my thing at all. Anyway, we found Angelina's on the second pass, enjoyed the frenetic activity in there as well as the food (all home made), before heading back to Towed Haul for the night.

Tomorrow is supposed to be a wind down day although I note that we are slated for an early run to the supermarket to stock up on supplies. Mrs T has some cleaning up on her mind whilst I am to be lifeguard at the beach. Let's hope the weather holds!

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 7, Saturday

The day dawned bright, clear and hot. I was about reasonably early, as is my wont, but sadly no one else was. The run out to the Space Centre was nigh on two hours and I sat there fretting about the place closing before we arrived there. The Tadpoles surfaced at about 10.30 am and even then didn't seem overly keen to get into gear. I'd been to Florida once before and been denied a trip to the Space Centre by awkward people and I didn't want the same thing to happen again. Words were spoken and we set off eventually at about midday, the Tadpoles having mysteriously given up their grumbling and become remarkably compliant. I found out later that Mrs T had spoken to them and that they were trying to be nice to me!

Anyway, on the road again, sans trailer of course, we went down to Orlando again, then east to the airport and beyond. I didn't count how many toll gates we went through, nor how much money we handed over, but I think we just paid for this years Orlando road maintenance programme. Once away from the city we entered the Florida coastal area which was flat and watery, but interesting for all that. The big central building of the Space Center hoves into view at some distance and is a good visual reference as you approach, and a reminder that everything at the Space Center is on a big scale. The good news on arriving at the Visitor Center was that the place was open until 8.30pm, so at least we were going to get a good crack at the place.

First off, they recommend the bus tour to the launch sites, so that's what we did being good obedient toads. It's a bit theme park-ish, lining up for the bus, having your photo taken in front of Shuttle launch backdrop and then being regaled with short and snappy videos on the bus. The drivers were good, though, all having their own tales to tell in amongst the facts and figures. The launch pads were impressive, although now redundant of course. The crawler roads even more impressive, still imprinted with the track marks from the final mission a month or so ago. The bit that was least impressive was the price of the snacks offered in the kiosk, which had obviously been set by Walt Disney himself, they being totally in the realms of fantasy.

From the launch sites we were taken to the Saturn V display area, which had interesting displays and video presentations. They use part of the original Apollo launch control room as a very funky presentation piece with lots of video, noise and vibration, showing what it was like when a Saturn V rocket took off. All very entertaining stuff but some of the digital readouts that were supposed to be from the late sixties looked remarkably modern. Still, it was all smoke and mirrors. The Saturn V rocket on display cannot be anything other than incredible, it's so big, as were the food prices in the cafe! There were some interesting artifacts on display, though, including the watch belonging to one of the astronauts killed in the Apollo 1 accident in 1967; macbre maybe, but fascinating.

Back on the bus and it was nature time, the driver pointing out the wildlife that thrives in the protected environment, a great spin off from the Space programme. Then it was back to the visitor centre where there were lots of spiffy displays and presentations and, as with all good theme parks, a ride. The Shuttle experience is a simulation of a Shuttle launch from inside the vehicle. I won't say too much about it for fear of putting people off, except to say that they talk it up well. As with Universal Studios, there were a lot of Brits at the Space Center, complete with footer shirts and red faces. At Universal, Liverpool won the battle of the shirts; at the Space Center it was Chelsea. Chelsea fans, as we know, are very cerebral bunch.

It was getting towards 8pm by the time we left and the heat outside was still immense. Mrs T had decided that we'd try to visit a Universal Studios store on the way home, to finish off the Potter-fest and we settled on the one in the entrance to the theme parks in downtown Orlando. Sat Nav duly programmed, off we went into nightime Orlando. It was only (!) $3 to park after 6pm, so that was better, but the place was heaving. There's a big shopping, entertainment and nightclub area built as the entrance to the theme parks and even at 9.30pm it was bright with lights, loud with music and thronging with people. Some were dressed for the nightclubs but there were many more families with young kids enjoying the place and overdosing their spawn with more theme park stimulation; lovely!

Shopping achieved, we departed and headed out of Orlando, back towards the campground and some supper. As we headed north we were driving into a huge thunderstorm, the night sky filled with lightening that showed the towering clouds. Strangely, though, although we drove on some wet roads, our campground was dry when we arrived, which meant dry washing. Even leaving the awning out couldn't bring the rain so we felt really quite pleased to be dry for once. Not really up to McDonald's or Dennies at that time of night, we settled for tinned spaghetti on toast in the trailer, which is a great way to round off a full and very long day. We'd seen much about the now completed Shuttle programme, seen lots of Florida, seen Downtown Orlando at night and helped the Orlando roads survive into the 22^nd century. Tomorrow was to be a travelling day, 350 miles west to Grayton Beach, on the Gulf Coast, so alarm set for stupid O'Clock we finally settled down for night. Holiday? I think I'm going to need another one when we get back!

A Very Modern Grand Tour - Day 6, Friday

There's one sure way to get the Tadpoles out of bed without complaint and that's to offer them a trip to Universal Studios' Wizarding World of Harry Potter. They were up and ready to go and a little past 7 am, which is some kind of record. The day looked set fair; well, hot, really, so we filled a backpack with drinks and set off. At the gatehouse to the campground, we reported last night's power issue and the woman there seemed quite relieved that we were going to be out for the day, I suppose because we weren't going to be giving her earache all day.

The campground is situated about an hour north of Orlando but the run in on the Florida Turnpike was easy. $1.25 to get onto the Turnpike and 50 Cents to get off it, which seemed a trifle odd to me. Mind you, without the trailer we were able to hit 70 mph with no concerns and the gas consumption was about half of that with the trailer, which is something that our poor, hard pressed wallets approved of. Talking of money, though, any visit to a theme park is surely a modern equivalent of daylight robbery. The tickets had cost us $84 each and were good for one day in one half of the Universal Studios theme park offering. To park the car cost $15 (the first and probably the last parking charge of the whole trip) and once inside, any food, drink, candy or souvenirs were so extortionately priced that we stopped even looking. Obviously we looked at it from the grown-ups point of view but the Tadpoles just couldn't see it our way. After blowing the best part of $200 on souvenirs, they set about destroying $50 each on candy, which for the most part was gone by bedtime. Still, I'm just a grumpy old adult; what price can you put on a fun day out? Answers on a postcard, please.

We arrived just about as the place was opening and made a slow walk over to Hogsmead and Hogwarts Castle, through the garish Comic Book streets and Jurassic Park sections of the place. The castle certainly looked true to the Harry Potter Films, even the scale was impressive. Hogsmead looked a little incongruous with it's snow covered roofs glinting in the Florida sunshine. Of course, it was wall-to-wall people, all very excited about being there and looking everywhere except where they were going. Call us nasty old adults but we took the first opportunity we could to shove the Tadpoles onto a ride so that we could escape for a while. The line wait was listed as 20 minutes but it was nearly an hour before we saw their green faces go by on the Dragon Challenge after they'd been hurtled around, upside-down and around and around for two minutes. The small Tadpole had been terrified but hey, it's all character building, isn't it?

The best ride, The Forbidden Journey, was out of commission with no hint of when and if it was to be working, which was a bit of a bummer. Without the ride, there was no access to the castle and that is about a third of the entire Harry Potter extravaganza. It was also the only ride that Mrs T wanted anything to do with so you can imagine the pursed lips, can't you? We mooched about a bit, took some pictures and ate in the Three Broomsticks pub. Given that alcoholic drinks were on sale (One drink per ID only!), I suppose it did qualify as a pub but think of that spiteful, malevolent influence we were subjecting all the dear little children to; tut, tut, Universal, shame on you.

We were just about to give up on the Forbidden Journey, Mrs T actively interrogating the poor park staff about when the ride might be functioning again when Bingo!, they called that it would be open right there and then. There was a bit of a line, which we jumped into pretty sharpish, and it just went straight into the castle without any hold up at all. We had fun getting two lockers for the bags, with fingerprints taken in the general melee, and then we were walking through the castle and enjoying the exhibits there. A young family climbed through a fence at one stage, not really jumping the line but joining it without seeing that all but one of the kids was too small to ride, so you can guess what happened to them when they reached the end of the queue (snigger). The ride itself was really quite something, a mix of roller coaster (although it wasn't), animatronics and amazing video effects. Of course, I began to suffer a bit of motion sickness but the ride wasn't that long so no one had to clear up any, er, outpourings; well, not from me, anyway.

After that we thought we'd head for the entrance, via a log flume ride we liked the look of. It was so hot, though, that when we saw a 45 minute wait posted we decided that enough was enough and made our way to the “Port of Entry”. Why is it that Theme Parks are the place in the US where you have to walk any distance? Sweating indecently, it must have taken us 20 minutes to get back to the car. Doing that walk, in amongst the crowds, the endless and horrifically expensive shops (of which there thousands) and the weird smells of candy, fried food and chlorinated water, I realised that I am a grumpy old toad and really don't like theme parks. Still, the Tadpoles were happy.

Heading back to the campground, we were hoping that the power problems were fixed and when we were greeted warmly at the gate with a “we've fixed the power problem” we were already visualising our afternoon nap. Sadly the first message was followed by a second “but it's going to happen again” so bang went the nap thoughts. The park staff suggested we move to another site, one with a sewer connection and working power, so we agreed and then set about hitching up and dragging Towed Haul around the campground. It was hot and sweaty work but we re-pitched on site number 8 and re-settled ourselves. The sewer connection was a bit too far away from our outlet valves, at least if we wanted the awning up (no, don't rain!), so there was no gain on that front, but the site had an open aspect and the power worked!

Too late for a nap, we headed out to Dennie's, that gourmet breakfast restaurant with “all you can eat” pancakes. Yes, I know it wasn't breakfast time but they are open 24 hours, which is a novelty in these here parts. I had Georgia Peach French Toast with bacon and a hash brown; it sounds awful but I really liked it. We also put away a mountain of pancakes and the bill for the trip was well under $40, which was excellent. We followed that with Internet Ice Cream at McDonald's then headed home for a well earned snooze. Apart from a few drops of rain as we left Dennie's, it was our first dry day of the whole trip, which is quite something six days into it. As I've said before, at least it's warm rain, which makes things a little more bearable.

Tomorrow is a trip to the Kennedy Space Center, but a slow start is anticipated. I note that we missed the last ever flight of the Shuttle by only a week or two but I'm sure it'll be very edjumacational for us all. Indoors, too, which will be good in this heat.

Look for Saturday's installment, coming to a blog near you!