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The lasange and meatballs I had with garlic bread last night was beaut, nicely washed down with a couple of bottles of Heiniken. Though I did feel a bit like a William zero pals sat on my own reading Don Quixote (the phone tells me I’m now 10.4% in apparently) next to a rowdy group of 20.

Speaking of food, it’s a good thing I’m not staying a The Roadrunner hostel any longer as the free waffles and syrup every morning are very nice but not so good for fat back (slight build-up of fatty deposits just above the waist line) prevention.

It’s been a pretty stressful morning so far. I missed my bus to the airport (though it must have come at least 5 minutes early) because I was trying to find somewhere to buy a bottle of water (I’ve found America to have a distinct lack of Spar like shops) and when I found a bakery selling some, there was a delay because a tramp was clearly trying to use a credit card that wasn’t his to pay for $20 worth of grub.

Then while asking a couple of drivers when the next one would be there were communication issues, no matter how many times I said the word ‘airport’ they weren’t getting it, even when I tried saying it like The Queen. I only got them to understand me when I done an impression of a plane, ‘tards.

Okay, I’m on a later bus now and only about 40 minutes behind. Weird lot on the bus though. If you put a big top over them you could charge an entry fee.

Right, I’ve picked the car up (a nice Volvo S60 with a daunting amount of buttons in the interior) and I’m all set to go to town.

If things go right pear shaped the vehicle has airbags at the front, side and even above. The above one being known as a VIC (Volvo Inflatiable Curtain). Ahem, I may have had a flick though the manual over lunch.

Apart from highly sensitive brakes at low speeds the car is a nice smooth ride. The automatic side of things took a little bit of getting used to as it creeps without any gas, good thing there was one of those tyre high parking barriers there for when I started her up the first time! Speed wise I got her up to 120 at one point and I reckon there was still plenty left to go.

So the 270 miles passed without any incident really. I didn’t even bother stopping in Phoenix as I didn’t know what downtown parking would be like and I couldn’t be arsed trying to find my way back on to the motorway, sorry interstate. There’s beautiful country once you get past Phoenix, not that I got to appreciate it much as I was dealing with the sweeping downhill curves through huge valleys.

I didn’t even have any directional problems apart from when I got to Flagstaff when the right turn that was supposed to be there wasn’t. I soon found my way through the oneway system though and the motor is now safely in the hostel car park. Belter.

Speaking of the hostel (The Grand Canyon International) I think this might be the best one I’ve ever stayed at, it’s also very cheap at $17 a night.

The little I’ve seen of Flagstaff so far looks nice too, it reminds me a bit of Aviemore in Scotland. It’s a bit blody nippy though, there’s a right wind up I tell thee.

Petra from the train is at the same hostel so I’ll get to have a few bevvies with a friend for the first time since New York, corr that feels like ages ago! I’m not gonna hammer it too much though as I need to get up early (again! I became a professional bum to avoid that very thing) to make the most of my one day at The Grand Canyon, I should have allowed more time really.

Oh, one other thing to mention; I got a very short bit of driving done on the famous Route 66, so that was quite cool.