USA

Day 1

First of all, a few facts I learnt from my time in San Francisco.

- The San Francisco 49ers are named after the moguls who came to the city in the Gold Rush after it was discovered there in 1848, turning it into a boomtown.
- If you're standing on flat land in San Francisco, it's likely you're on landfill. Many people have bought waterside properties only to watch more landfill extend the bay and push their homes further away.
- The exclusive district of San Francisco, Nob Hill, is short for Nobility Hill. It's also known as Snob Hill by the locals.
- If you buy a boat, you're not going to be able to keep it in San Francisco. All the private moorings are fully booked for the next 25 years.
- The Transamerica Pyramid was specifically positioned and designed so that the executives in the nearby Bank of America building would have to look up to it from their top floor offices.
- George Moscone, a former mayor of San Francisco, campaigned against the creation of a convention centre as it would displace too many people from their homes. After he was assassinated the city went ahead and built one anyway and cheekily named it after him.
- The Beefeater doorman at the Sir Francis Drake hotel, Tom Sweeney, has shaken the hand of every president since 1979 as they have all stayed there, with the exception of George Dubya for whom he had to travel to San Jose to greet. That's a lot of effort to meet such an imbecile.

Onto Hawaii. Up before dawn for another crappy American Airlines flight which took five and a half hours, longer than advertised, and full of screaming babies that gave me a headache. They really should be banned. Arrived in Honolulu at 1pm and BOOM, severe humidity despite totally overcast conditions. Off with the coat.

The good thing about tourist traps like Waikiki is that as more and more top hotels are built other hotels have to lower their prices to attract guests. Which I can only imagine is what has happened to mine, the Aqua Palms & Spa hotel. Call me common but I reckon you know you're staying somewhere classy when you're presented in your room with not one but a choice of different coloured dressing gowns to wear. Oh yeah. I'd turned down an ocean view when I booked it to save money and was still given one anyway, which was a bonus (don't confuse ocean view with ocean front - a view means you can only see a bit of the ocean).

I strolled about for a while with a map to get my bearings, then decided I needed to get a little bit of sleep. I laid down on my bed and before 6pm I'd fallen asleep, hoping to get a few hours kip, and then woke up at 7am the next morning. I guess I was tired.

Day 2

Did you know that to the west of O'ahu lies a small island called Ni'ihau where there's no electricity and nobody speaks English? Neither did I. It doesn't even appear on a lot of maps of Hawaii. The reason it's not well known is that you can only live on the island if you're 100% Hawaiian blood, and only 160 people live there.

The Hawaiian blood system is intriguing and I can't help but think the UK would be much better off with something similar. For example, if you're 50% Hawaiian blood or more you can qualify for free medical care. The same applies to children who go to the top private schools. I like this system a lot.

Anyway, back to business. Refreshed after my monster sleep I looked out of my window to be greeted by a lavish storm. Great. Having missed dinner last night I was ravenous so I braved the rain and walked into the Chinese all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant next door to the hotel, then ran over to the Hilton opposite to use their internet access. Note to self - find somewhere cheaper.

By the time I'd finished the rain had stopped and I strolled down Kalakaua Avenue, the main street in Waikiki. Unsurprisingly it's tourist central - lots of Chinese and Japanese people taking pictures of each other in front of overpriced Louis Vuitton and Prada shops. I had a look around some of the shopping centres and ended up with some sandals and Hawaiian shorts. Nice. Back to the hotel to transform into a surf dude and then down to Waikiki Beach.

It was pretty empty, unsurprising I guess given the overcast weather and high winds. Not even many surfers about. I people watched for a while and then retreated to the hotel as some dangerous looking clouds came in - I didn't make it in time.

The heavens opened and I got soaked. And it didn't let up all night - rainy season indeed. I had to go back to the Chinese restaurant again as it was the only place in spitting distance, then back to the hotel where I sat penned in watching crap TV.

Day 3

Early start today, I was picked up at 6am by a shuttle bus to go to Pearl Harbour. Lots of fannying about with different hotels and then a final switch onto a different bus. I was looking forward to the visit, but not as much as the two elderly American chaps behind me with their Pearl Harbour caps on.

Aside from still being a US navy port, Pearl Harbour is split into three main parts - a museum with memorabilia and exhibits; a former WWII submarine called the USS Bowfin; and a memorial to the biggest casualty of the Pearl Harbour attack, the USS Arizona.

The museum was decent enough, I particularly liked the real exhibits near the Bowfin as you can play on the gun turrets and try out the periscopes. It's also worth noting how big the missiles and torpedoes are from the sub, absolutely massive. Unfortunately I didn't have enough time to queue up and walk on the sub.

The Arizona memorial starts with a fairly moving 30 minute video with real footage of the Japanese attack (the guy next to me was in tears). Then you take a boat out to the spot where the Arizona still lies, with a small white memorial building above it.

1,177 people died on the Arizona, accounting for almost half the casualties in the attack. The bomb that hit it actually landed in the ammunition bay and set off thousands of pounds of gunpowder. The resulting blast sent the 20,000 pound anchor 100 feet away and also launched one of the gun turrets way into the air, creating a second blast when it landed. The ship sank in 9 minutes, taking 80% of the crew with it.

It's a sobering thought to stand on the memorial, with bits of the boat sticking out of the water, and learn that almost 900 bodies still lie entombed in the boat directly beneath you, as yet unreachable to the salvage teams.

A quick note to temper the memorial. The USS Bowfin, displayed as a gallant US submarine and accessible to the public in Pearl Harbour, sank the unmarked Tsushima Maru in 1944. 1,484 civilians were killed, more people than on the Arizona, including 767 schoolchildren. I didn't see that mentioned anywhere.

The remainder of the day was fairly slow. I was hungry enough in the afternoon to take on Tony Roma's ribshack on Kalakaua Avenue, spent a while cloud/sunbathing by the pool at the hotel, and then embraced the American culture by going to a sports bar down the road and watching the New England Patriots win yet again, making it 13-0 so far and getting ever closer to the perfect season.

Day 4

Ever noticed how Hawaiian words have lots of vowels? Aloha. Hawaii. Kalakaua. Waikiki. Honolulu. And so on. That's because every word has to end in a vowel, and vowels make up almost half the letters in the Hawaiian alphabet. In full it's A,E,I,O,U,H,K,L,M,N,P,W. Also, if placed at the beginning of the word, W is W, but anywhere else it's pronounced V. So Hawaii should actually be pronounced Havaii. There you go.

At the far end of Kalakaua Avenue lies Diamond Head Crater, a distinctive peak in the landscape which today I would walk up. I donned by best walking boots - i.e. my trainers - and set off down Kalakaua Avenue with a purpose.

I picked a cracker of a day to walk up the crater. Although it was cloudy, it soon turned out to be a roaster with very little breeze around - the crater blocks it out. Typical. I'd anticipated a lonely hike up a grassy footpath followed by a solitary victory stance at the top with my arms spread out. And maybe someone filming me above, circling around with some dramatic music. I was in for a surprise.

You have to pay to get in. They've dug enormous holes through the crater for cars and buses to drive in and out. There are hot dog and burger shacks at the base. And it was heaving with tourists.

Sacrilegious.

Anyway, I paid the dollar entry fee and began the hike (after eating a hot dog). It was tough. The path isn't exactly smooth and the overnight rain made it a bit tricky in parts. And, just when you think you're getting there, you find enormous steep staircases greeting you round the corner. When I finally got to the top after a 30 minute climb I was covered in sweat, along with everyone else. Determined to get my energy's worth I stood there looking around for ages and took many photos before heading back down.

I have to say it was worth it alone to see the fat Americans gasping for air on the way up as I happily strolled back down. Thinking about it, I wouldn't be surprised if all the water on the path was actually their sweat.

Back down Kalakaua Avenue, past Waikiki Beach for a few more photos, then the bad weather came back again. It's 5pm here now, I'm off to get some food...

Day 5

I didn't sleep very well last night. A storm hit the island and left it in pieces; at one point I was sure it was centralised in my hotel room, with the wind caning the hotel and the rain lashing against the windows. I left the hotel to get some breakfast and discovered a mess outside. Huge palm tree leaves scattered all over the place, traffic cones spread over the road and little mini floods everywhere for the cars to drench the pedestrians with. The Chinese restaurant next door was 'closed due to bad weather', as were the two places up the road from that. I started to get worried but then found a place on the corner of Kalakau Avenue that would do me some expensive food. I settled down and watched the Honolulu Fire Department try and clear an enormous flooded area with what appeared to be nothing more sophisticated than a couple of sticks. Interesting. The water was still there when I went back to the hotel.

Since my initial trip down Kalakau Avenue I'd been thinking about hiring a car from the rental garage, and today was going to be the day for it, if at all. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have hired it even if there hadn't been a storm...

They had some very nice cars there denoted as 'exotic cars', such as a Dodge Viper that I particularly liked. But I had my eyes on a yellow Ford Mustang, an American muscle car that was reasonably priced at $55 for the day. I began chatting to the rental guy and asked him where the Mazda RX8 was, priced at $100 for the day.

'Over there.' he said, pointing at a crumpled heap in the corner with a sheet thrown over it. 'The guy was drift racing it near some cliffs. He walked away with a few scratches but is still paying for it now. Ha ha haaa..'. The demented laugh immediately told me I shouldn't be hiring one of these cars, no matter what the rental price.

By the way, there are 1.3 million people living in Hawaii. A more notable fact is that there are more cars than people, if you include the dealers and rental companies. Couple that with the fact that the road systems were designed to cope with 200,000 cars and you begin to understand how bad the traffic is. And don't get me started on the pedestrian crossing lights, you can grow a beard waiting for those to change.

That's a nice bit of filler for what was, all in all, a non-event of a day. Early morning flight again tomorrow...

Day 1

Bored and desperate to get out of the Jamaica area of New York, I took a cab from the hotel to the airport at 12pm and the plane duly took off ontime at 3:30pm. Unfortunately my dreams of a great flight were savaged by the realisation that internal American Airlines flights are...basic. Little room, no screen in front, and no free food or drinks (unless you want water). I also had the dubious pleasure of sitting next to a grumpy old bag who seemed particularly irritated by me asking her to move so I could take my seat by the window. With not much else to do I spent the majority of the 6 hour flight jostling with her for arm and leg position, and then clipped her ankle as she walked down the aisle getting off the plane. Oops.

It was rush hour in San Francisco and roadworks on the main road meant a rather expensive cab journey. Again. I arrived at my hotel to be childishly excited at the prospect of staying in a classic American motel with the rooms in clear sight above a small car park, with a little room at the front to check in. In other words, it was a hellhole.

After recovering from my shock at how good the actual room was inside, I ventured out onto Lombard Street and decided to complete my experience at a good old American Diner on Lombard Street where I ate burger and fries with a shake. Nice. Then it was off to bed for some seriously well-needed sleep, with a visit to the Golden Gate Bridge and whatever else I could squeeze in the next day.

Day 2

Well, the first thing to report is that San Francisco, or at least the majority of it, is nothing like New York.

It's hotter. It's hilly. There are no skyscrapers blocking the sun everywhere you go, and the temperature is more consistent as a result. When you leave your hotel you walk past people's homes, which are great, rather than endless eateries and shops. People don't constantly throw leaflets in your face. The streets are clean and also colourful at times. There are no sewage pipes or steaming drains spewing out a horrible stench. People talk rather than shout. Joggers and cyclists fill up their own dedicated lanes. Hardly anybody smokes. Couples chase their dogs around what seem to be an endless series of lush green parks. There are no hoodlums or menacing looking gangs on the corners of the streets. No-one tries to sell you drugs. Even the homeless, of which there are very few, don't beg and just politely stare at the ground. Solitary people stand on the sidewalks doing bizarre exercises without fear of being mocked. Even the lunatics who speak unknown languages are smiley and somehow approachable.

I found it all very disturbing.

Anyway, I set off in the morning down towards the bay, without checking my map first which was a bit foolhardy, and then turned east to go to Fisherman's Wharf. I shouldn't have done this as I hate the smell of fish, but it comes recommended. Unsurprisingly it stank of fish, and I turned back around and walked all the way back towards the Golden Gate Bridge.

No matter how far I seemed to walk, the bridge never got any closer. Endless paths, roads and turns, yet still it looked the same (long) distance away. Finally, after a few stops to adjust my shoes and socks, I arrived at the base of the bridge to find the footpath up to it was closed. For my own safety apparently. Bugger. I turned back and walked half a mile the other way and then took a painfully steep footpath up to the top. After almost two hours of uncomfortable walking I'd reached my destination, all hot and sweaty and bothered.

The bridge is spectacular, no doubt about it. The cables used to make it can wrap the earth 3 times over. I've no idea how you'd begin to build any bridge, let alone one that size and scale - it's really something to behold. I strolled along it for a while and soon came to the disappointing realisation that there really wasn't much else to do on it. I stopped, took a few pictures, then a deep breath and headed back to Lombard Street.

Back at the hotel I took off my shoes to reveal a blister on my left foot over an inch in diameter. Nice. I rested my weary limbs for a while and then hobbled out for some food and a few drinks, then hobbled back for a busy one the next day.

Day 3

I'd pre-booked a bus trip round the city centre, so I strolled down to Fisherman's Wharf again (an hour from my hotel), ate an omelette and all the crap that comes with it in America,and then hopped on board.

It was excellent, a very complete and informative tour that was brilliantly narrated by a sarcastic, droll Californian. My favourite bit - 'And here on the left is the Indonesian Passport Office, which is very handy indeed. You never know when you might need that'. Having had my fill of the city centre I went down to Pier 33 to complete my excursions with a trip to Alcatraz.

Alcatraz was as good as I'd hoped, but no more (let's not go overboard, it is after all an empty building on an island). Little plaques everywhere you go give intriguing bits of information, and the audio tour of the main prison is very well done, featuring real ex officers and prisoners. I'm sure everyone knows all about Alcatraz so I'll leave it there...if you've been to San Francisco and didn't to the trip, you missed out.

It's now 6pm in San Francisco and I'm soon off to get some food before getting up early to fly to Hawaii. Next update will be from Honolulu...

Day 1

After a very welcome meet with some old Sheffield Uni bods on Thursday night (cheers chaps) I took the dreaded tube journey to Heathrow which was, of course, a nightmare with my luggage. Got there with plenty of time to spare and soon wished that I hadn't as there was no plane at the departure gate. After a delay of just over an hour we finally boarded and then sat for another hour whilst they tried to work out why they had extra luggage on board. Finally we set off, then had to head back when they realised they'd repacked the luggage incorrectly. Nice one BA.

Eventually arrived in New York well behind schedule and met a very patient Mik at my terminal. Both absolutely knackered, we took a bus to the hotel at the Rockefeller Centre, wandered into a bar to get some food and a few beers, and then hit the sack ready for a day of strolling around Manhatten on Saturday...

Day 2

Despite being shattered the night before, the 5 hour difference still took its toll and we were awake by about 6am, still really tired. Even so we took in a lot in New York on the Saturday - strolled through Times Square, checked out the bus terminal in advance of the Giants game, went to Grand Central Station, up to Central Park where we went through the zoo, and then all the way up to the Natural History Museum where the highlight was definitely a panoramic film of the galaxy which left me with a crick in my neck. We then made our way back to midtown via St Patrick's Cathedral, which is spectacular inside, and sat by the ice rink on 42nd street drinking hot apple cider and made a note to come back and drink it again.

Still shattered from a long and VERY cold day, we went back to the hotel for showers and then back out for a bite to eat and a few drinks, then bed again hoping to feel more awake the next day.

Day 3

After breakfast we went to the bus terminal, got lost inside it for half an hour and then finally some kind soul put us out of our misery and told us where we needed to go to get the bus to the Giants stadium.

Outside the stadium was ace, loads of private Giants branded pick-up trucks and RVs with barbeques cooking what appeared to be whole animals and big fat Americans swilling budweiser in the seats. They take going to a game seriously, they don't mess about.

The game was nothing short of a disaster for the Giants, they punted the ball straight out of touch at the beginning and the Vikings scored a touch down on their 2nd down with about 15 seconds on the clock. Quarterback Eli Manning had a 'mare, giving away 4 interceptions from which the Vikings scored 3 touchdowns directly. Lots of boos, lots of people leaving early, and some guy to our left was encouraging his kids to sing 'Eli is adopted' which I didn't particularly like, although Mik did point out that Manning's dad and brother were both top NFL players.

After the game we walked past a HUGE queue and laughed, and then stopped laughing when we realised it was the queue for the buses which we needed to join. We trapsed what seemed like miles to the back of the queue and tried to guess how many hours it would take to get back, but it wasn't too bad and we were back by 6pm for more hot apple cider. Then the usual routine of getting some food, drinks in a bar and then asleep by midnight wondering if we'd ever stop feeling so tired.

Day 4

Monday was, as described by the weather forecast on TV, a Soaker. Low clouds and foggy, intermittent rain, but slightly warmer than it had been before. I decided the Empire State Building would be rubbish and so we got the subway down to Wall Street and walked to Battery Park to get a ferry out to the Statue of Liberty.

Through what can only be described as sheer laziness we decided to get a yellow New York cab style ferry instead of joining what appeared to be the rest of the world on the official ferry tour. After debating which side of the ferry would be best we boarded it when it arrived and discovered it was just us two and 4 Japanese tourists on board - excellent.

The tour was good, Kathleen Turner (?) told us all about each part of the tour and then things went a little pear shaped when the wind picked up and the rain lashed into our faces. I took a rubbish picture of the Brooklyn Bridge through the driving rain and then we were told to go back inside the boat because of the weather, which wasn't disappointing at all. We decided to get off the boat early and head up to Little Italy and Chinatown.

Both of these were as expected - lots of little shops and eateries, and lots of very slow moving people to navigate around. We made use of the tour book I brought and hunted down Lombardi's restaurant which was recommended as the top cheap eat in New York. And it was excellent. Stuffed, we wandered around for a while then got the subway back to Grand Central Station.

Monday night was a bit different as we went to a bar with some people from Vegas and got drunk on a mixture of beer, cider, vodka and black sambuca and, to demonstrate my drunkenness, I took issue with a huge 7 foot dude outside who was trying to sell me coke and also trying to convince me it was a good idea to put in my sock and take it with me on my flight. Not finished there, I had another pop at him in the street when I saw him again later. Good work. I woke up in the morning with a bit of a hangover but also quite glad to be alive.

Day 5

Not too much to report. We floated around with those tired types of hangovers, then at 3:30pm tried to flag down a taxi to JFK airport to drop Mik off and then take me to my hotel nearby. This was a very unsuccessful mission and so we got the hotel to book us a cab, which hilariously turned out to be a stretched limo. With hindsight this was a decent move as the traffic was hideous and we got to the airport just before 5pm, giving Mik about 15 minutes to check in. I haven't heard otherwise so I assume he made it!!

Then it was onto Queens for me, in particular Jamaica Boulevard. The cab ended up costing about 40 pounds for just over an hour and a half's journey - not great but a yellow cab would have been about the same with the traffic.

I'm not surprised that Jamaica didn't make it into my Top 10 New York guide. It's a dump. I checked into the hotel, which was perfectly reasonable, and then strolled down the main boulevard, cold and tired, looking for something to eat. Fearing for my life, and struggling against the icy winds, I duly noted the various Chinese takeaways which I didn't think I'd survive through and then broke a long-standing promise by doubling back and entering the MacDonalds opposite the hotel which I'd earlier ignored. A quick drink in the hotel and then it was off to sleep in what seemed at the time to be the comfiest bed in the world, dreaming about a fantastically comfortable flight to San Francisco sitting next to a gorgeous babe with unlimited food and drink and an onboard entertainment system...