Vodafone, I'm leaving you

Or at least I am considering it.

Somehow I managed to lose my phone in stupid Liverpool. Vodafone has not deigned to send me a new sim card yet so I am bereft and only have my work phone for company. I'm sure I am missing hundreds of interesting calls and messages... Pretty sure anyway... At least one or two...

Two conferences down and one to go.

Highlight of Liverpool was seeing Hugh Grant. Twice. Beat that Manchester. No idea what was happening politically because I was distracted (inebriated) by my serious work (by drinking in the bar.) But I am turning over a new leaf for Tories. I am going to be sober and professional and share my weighty political opinions with important people. And not lose any of my items. Or bash into anything.

And then the next travel adventure on the horizon is sailing to the Isle of Wight with Joe, Adam and Lynne. Apparently on the Saturday evening we are going to drive (?) (float?) to a restaurant/bar where everyone dances on the tables. I can literally not wait. I am already planning a suitable outfit of part foulweather gear, part party dress. Look out Isle of Wighters.

Northern Lights

Political party conference season is upon us so I am setting sail for Birmingham this afternoon to see the Lib Dems. Next week I am in Liverpool for Labour and the following week I shall be heading to Manchester for the Tories.

I have never been to any of these places before so I have high hopes of northern metropolises with people talking strangely and eating foreign foods. Actually, that's a lie, I went to Birmingham once. But only to Cadbury World. I'm not sure if that counts. (Note to self: do not tell this anecdote over dinner. It is dull.)

After four months off I would say my understanding of current affairs is patchy at best. I am going to need to disguise this by either 1) steering the conversation round to things I do understand, like weird things that happen in India or how nice the Guardian Weekend fashion special was, or 2) making vague and meaningless comments such as "well it may be a difficult season for the Lib Dems. But in the current climate perhaps you could say that about any of the parties." Or maybe I could just nod sagely while other people talk. I remember a philosophy seminar where the tutor said "well, I can see what Kate's opinion is. What do the rest of you think?", because of my sage nod. Needless to say I had no idea what was going on.

Wish me luck - hopefully I won't embarrass myself too badly. Or audibly grind my teeth in the shared apartment.

Rule Britannia

After two miserable penniless days in New York, Joe and I said goodbye to the big adventure and flew home. We were delighted to be travelling with BA.

"May I have a white wine please, Mr Air Steward?"
"Certainly, why not have two?"

Hello again delicious binge-drinking culture.

I am terribly sorry for not writing sooner - I know there are hundreds of you pining for my pithy wit... but the excitement of English things has been so overwhelming that I have mostly been sleeping for two weeks. Well, sleeping and eating cheese. Oh, and securing gainful employment. Score.

I am currently having a jolly break in Cornwall. I really needed a holiday after those three months off. Top moments so far have included dinner with the next door neighbours aka the most Cornish people in existence. I discovered that they refer to me as Cinderella because apparently the first time they saw me I was rather overdressed for village life. Now I don't remember each sartorial choice I have ever made but find it hard to believe that I helped Mum move house whilst sporting a ball gown. Clearly there are different standards at play here.

I am very much enjoying pretending to be a student on summer holidays and travelling around in a purple Clio containing five girls (friends, not random chumps found on the beach), five enormous handbags (belonging to said friends), two binbags loaded with rubbish (damn foxes) and a set of golf clubs (don't ask). I am also enjoying "helping" round the house i.e. putting things in the wrong places and accidentally throwing out the compost. Whoops. The joys of temporarily living at home.

I am not sure what to do with the blog now I am back. I have very much enjoyed writing it but am not narcissistic enough to think people want to read about my everyday adventures (today I woke up, got the train and went to work. I had soup for lunch. A man sneezed on me on the way home), so perhaps I shall have to pretend to still be travelling?

Back to the big smoke soon anyway so ideas on a postcard please....

Previously on the West Wing

We have been in Washington DC for three days now and have seen the White House, the Capitol, and the outsides of lots of other attractions (too hot to queue to get in). I keep hoping we might see some of the West Wingers and then have to remind myself that it is in fact a TV programme and the people are actors. Very upsetting.

Through watching the complete West Wing about six times I thought I had a good understanding of American politics. This turned out to be completely false. Joe and I were sitting on the steps of the Capitol and I confessed that I did not, in fact, really understand the US political system at all. He tried patiently to explain it to me while I fiddled with my nail varnish and forgot to listen. He then had to explain again. I'm still not sure I've cracked it to be honest but it's probably not that important. Separation of powers off.

We are staying in a very bizarre establishment which seems to be a hotel cum halfway house. There are various people here who are clearly not on holiday and come to breakfast with their own bread. We have to share a bathroom which is a real treat. The best part is that we are conveniently located for everything, including the George Washington University student hangouts. We have been "carded" several times and enjoyed several happy hours. GWU looks quite a lot like Bristol but with frat houses. Each frat house has it's name in symbols on the door - you know, the kappa gamma motor neurones or whatever - and its inhabitants sit outside drinking out of those red cups you see on American films. Jealous.

Tomorrow we climb aboard the Megabus (keeping up the tradition of travelling in style), and head to the Big Apple. We met someone yesterday from New York and asked her for recommedations of things to do. Her response? The NBA store and the M&M store. Seriously. Next time someone asks me what they should do in London I am going to send them to Niketown.

The end.

Chicago: The Windy City

Of course Truro is the actual windy city but we'll let the people of Chicago have their little claim to fame.

We arrived here on Saturday, courtesy of the Megabus, after being dragged away from the comfort of Heather and Jamie's place in St Louis. Unfortunately we managed to lose the camera somewhere between the bus and the hotel. More unfortunate still is that is contained the photos from Thailand and the States which we hadn't uploaded yet. Someone, somewhere is looking at a very odd bunch of pictures.

Continuing the theme of unfortunate incidences, someone has used Joe's card to go to DisneyWorld. No, it wasn't me. Barclays have very considerately blocked his account, even to him, so that's great. I hope Mickey Mouse punched the fraudster in the face.

We spent Saturday and Sunday night in the Chinatown hotel, situated in... yep you guessed it, Chinatown. It was very convenient for downtown so we had a great day shopping, looking at the sights and eating traditional deep pan pizza. The hotel was populated by some kind of biting creature - bedbugs? Fleas? So that was nice. It reminded us of India. We had some of the worst Chinese food known to man but did manage to find a karaoke bar afterwards. We didn't sing - Joe is too traumatised from the time I signed him up to do American Pie in Earlsfield  -  but thoroughly enjoyed ourselves watching the attempts of others.

We are now on the outskirts of the city in a Howard Johnson (cheap Travelodge type place) because we have an early flight to Washington DC in the morning. I found out, to my horror, that we can't actually go inside the White House, but we're going to stand outside and sing the West Wing theme tune. Hopefully that's not a federal crime. DC is apparently famous for being very humid so we'll probably be sweating all over the national landmarks as well as singing. Excellent.

Meet me in St Louis

This week we left Elvis behind and headed to St Louis, Missouri. Nothing is too good for our world trip so we travelled by Greyhound bus. It was OK until we pulled into the bus station and the driver announced he wanted to thank god for getting us to our destination safely. Our fellow passengers broke into enthusiastic "a-mens" while we sniggered at the front.
We are staying with the lovely Heather (previously of Portland fame), and her lovely husband Jamie in their lovely apartment. They have been extremely hospitable letting us take over their spare room, destroy their kitchen with operation curry, and watch endless episodes of Gordon Ramsay on their TV.

Yesterday the four of us went on a day trip. Just a cooler of beer, three Londoners, Heather, and these wits. We went to the Meramec caves and did a guided tour with Blake, who looked like he spent too much time underground. The caves were amazing - Jessie James used to hide out there - but the best  part was the finale. This was a spectacular light show (Blake flicking switches on and off) to show off the rocks with a soundtrack of the Missouri Waltz and God Bless America. The man in front of us, hearing our howls of laughter, turned round and said "it cost us $50 to get in, how much to get out?!" Good question.

We then travelled a bit further up the river and took a canoe trip. Now, I don't mean to boast, but I have canoed once before. Yes, I know, I am full of fascinating anecdotes. Anyway, I thought this would make me a bit of an expert but it took a full fifteen minutes to conquer the paddle on the right to go left thing. My primary concern was keeping the cigarettes dry because I didn't want to have to do a distress flare with a disposable lighter but most of them made it through the journey.

The water and the scenery were beautiful and we stopped several times to swim. For swim read bob around with a beer. It seems like a real American pastime - people bring chairs into the river and drink. Amazing.

Last night Heather and Jamie took us out to try some of the local delicacy... toasted ravioli. Basically, you cover normal ravioli in breadcrumbs, deep-fry it, then eat it with parmesan and pasta sauce. Delicious. We also ate St Louis-style pizza. And yes, all the weight lost in Asia is hopping back on, one ravioli at a time. Brilliant.

What adventures will tomorrow bring? Who knows, but on Saturday we hop on the Megabus (truly classy in every country) and head to Chicago.

Walking in Memphis

This is a kind of collaboration blog. Joe wanted to write it but I wouldn't let him. Compromise - the heart of every good relationship.

So here we are in our Tennessee log cabin.  We can be found on Heartbreak Lane just past Blue Suede Ave.  If you hit Hound Dog Way you've gone too far.  Thats right.  We are staying in the Graceland RV park with Elvis pilgrims and white trash. Am hoping no one is reading this over my shoulder...

We said goodbye to our haven in Dallas and set off in our car for the open road of America.  Our journey took us away from the tourist hot spots and into 'real America'.  Great incident in a petrol station... sorry, gas station... near the Arkansas border.

Kate: Excuse me, how do we.....

Attendent: Where y'all from?

Joe: England

Attendent: MARYJOLENEALICELOUANN! COME HEAR THESE GUYS A' TALKIN'.  IT'S PURDY!

At this point I think MJALA was expecting a bit more and we were both feeling the pressure.  All we could manage was 'hello'.  She did not look impressesd.

As we left the same petrol station in the middle of nowhere it was invaded by about a billion hells angels.  I thought I might run away and join them but the noise was so loud that I had to jump back in the car and hide with my pickle in a pouch (photos to follow.)

We went to Graceland (the actual attraction rather than the trailer park) this morning. I know this is something of a pilgramage for many people (I'm talking to you, Sarah), so I won't be too rude about it. Needless to say it is a real money spinner. The site boasts eight gift shops, and you have to pay a heck of a lot to get in.

After seeing MTV Cribs, Elvis's house didn't really seem that decadent but the 70s decor was pretty special. Honourable mentions go to the "jungle room" and his private plane which had a blue suede bed, complete with 24 carat gold seatbelt. Awesome.

I was disappointed that they glossed over some of Elvis's more unfortunate attributes - no mention of the drug addiction, the toilet, or the fact that his later stage outfits are about four hundred times bigger than the first ones. But hey, I guess you don't want Elvis fans crying all over the place so they've got to keep it upbeat.

We went for lunch in the Rock n Roll cafe afterwards. Joe ate so quickly that he was complimented by the waitress. When a big fat American diner waitress thinks you are a speedy eater, that is seriously disgusting. I mean, impressive...

Dinner tonight will take place in a bbq restaurant which is about 1 mile from the park. You get picked up in a pink cadillac. Not joking.

Best go and dust off my silver spandex all-in-one suit now. Joe's is unfortunately at the drycleaners so he'll have to make do with shorts.

Speak soon y'all.