Camp America: Part One

Unsurprisingly, there is a lot to say on this subject, so I may have to break it down into several parts. As is traditional, let's start at the beginning. I believe I left you with the rat and raccoon anecdote at the crap hostel in New York. So, Day One: Philadelphia & Washington D.C.

The view from George Washington bridge across the Hudson was incredible, as we rolled alongside Mack trucks and giant American cars in our cramped van and trailer. Oh, slight digression before we really hit the road - my sleeping bag got stolen before I even left the hostel. That's right - despite locking my bag in a 'secure' room, I managed to pick it up, have a whole evening's entertainment and almost get into our tour van the next day without noticing that the bright red, giant-ass sleeping bag that was knotted to the front of my pack had gone walkies. After fuming and making red-faced enquiries for a few minutes, the kindly man at the front desk gave me his 'spare'. Initally, & probably unfairly, I suspected some filthy old rag covered in suspicious stains, but it actually appeared to be brand new, and he didn't expect it back. Silver lining in every cloud & all that. Anyhoo, boring, let's move on.

Dear old Brandon, who I can't recall if I have already mentioned was our tour guide, was keen to crack on as we had a lot of ground to cover. Around 5,334 miles if I recall correctly. Anyway, I have never met anyone more time obsessed than myself (though I have got better... I swear), but here he was in tour guide form. Don't get me wrong, he needed to keep us on a tight leash as we had so far to go, but we enjoyed mocking him for his precise time allowances, viz: "OK, you can go check out the Liberty Bell for around 25 minutes, so if we can be back here for 1.45... no make it 1.50." That extra five minutes really helps when you're busting for the loo and are terrified that the van will drive off without you as you're running towards it, pants around ankles, waving and shouting like a wee obsessed maniac. The other eccentric requests from the soon to be known as 'Daddy B' were 1) shower every day (he previously had someone on tour who didn't, and in 40 degree heat this can get pretty antisocial) and 2) no crisps, chips or chocolate in the van (ostensibly, they smell and cause mess). This guy was pretty OCD when it came to keeping things tidy, something I have to say I can get on board with as a cleanliness freak.

We hit Philadelphia pretty swiftly, and our first stops were to be the two places both claiming to be the original inventors of Philly Cheese Steak. For those of you unfamiliar with this delicious concept, please click here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cheesesteak

We patronised 'Geno's' steakhouse, and 'Pat's King of Steaks', and concluded, slightly unfairly, that Pat's won out on deliciousness alone. Ironically, Daddy B 'no crisps, chips or chocolate' allowed us to eat these horrendously greasy items in the van, and we all enjoyed this contradiction immensely.

A speedy trip to the Liberty Bell (symbol of American freedom) and a Dairy Queen were had. Dairy Queen: a revolting symbol of all that is wrong with American eating habits. The cakes were a lurid frozen collection of various eye watering neon combinations that looked like they might be carcinogenic. There were ridiculously creamy drinks and 'ice cream turtles' that resembled neither ice ceam nor turtles, all treated as if they were an everyday snack you might just pick up from the corner shop after work rather than a rare treat. It all made me feel rather queasy. And horribly judgemental.

Onwards to the Washington D.C. campsite. The best one we stayed at! Enormous pool, wifi, snug little corner of the woods to ourselves. Lovely. And the best discovery of the day? Shock Top IPA - wheat beer with citrus peel and coriander flavours. As soon as we got into the campsite, I necked 2 bottles in quick succession as they were cold from the fridge and quite frankly, they were rather delicious.

A quick dinner of spaghetti bolognaise and salad was welcomed with open arms, especially after the stomach bloating properties of the cheese steak. We all sat happily about the picnic bench and ate as if it was our last supper on death row. After not really eating all that properly (sorry Mum!) for four days previously, this was heaven.

Anyway, I digress. After 3 beers, because I am a lame lightweight, I headed off to sleep in Bree & I's carefully constructed tent, complete with bent top pole (make of that what you will). We had made our first rookie campers' mistake. We had left the insect net open all day, and some of our six and eight-legged chums had decided to bed down with us for the night. All Buddhist goodwill and nonviolent protest intentions went out of the window when I found about 5 spiders and a multitude of earwigs in our sleeping bags and equipment. A primitive measure was taken out on the unlucky creatures as I severely beat the living crap out of them with a well aimed flip flop, with the pure anger of the semi-drunk.

And then there was Washington D.C - a most enjoyable place - we visited the Lincoln Memorial (Abe in the big chair), the Vietnam War Memorial, designed by a student who intended it the memorial to resemble a cut into the earth that eventually grows over with grass - The WWII memorial (huge), the outside of the White House and Potbelly's Diner, probably America's finest institution yet. One thing's for sure, the Americans love their patriotism, and they do it extremely well. Flags hang from every conceivable surface, and sternfaced law enforcement officials patrol any remotely politically charged attraction.

My favourite thing about Washington was its excellent Holocaust Museum. An incredibly well put together collection of information & exhibits, the permanent exhibition comprised of a trip up in a lift to the upper floor, where you are given a replica immigration card of a Holocaust survivor, complete with name and backstory.

Displays of items such as the striped pyjamas inmates wore & tear jerking details of how far the Nazis persecuted the Jews, disabled, mentally ill and homosexual were both depressing and thought provoking & upon seeing a plaque at the museum exit dedicated to Stephen Tyrone Johns, a security guard shot and killed by a white supremacist who opened fire in the museum, had a bit of a cry. To lighten the mood, Bree, who gets motion sickness quite badly, managed to throw up some of her double choc cookie ice cream sandwich from visit #2 of the day to PotBelly's on the way back to the campground.

We went for a swim after dinner & balanced out the bad karma from the previous day's insect massacre by rescuing a particularly stupid species of beetle from the pool that kept flying back into the water once we had put them on dry land.

Then a teenage boy had a massive barney with his brother and it all kicked off, & we left before anything interesting actually happened.

More to follow...