Chicago - All That Jazz

Chicago was a very impressive city to drive into. The sky was clear and although it had been a long driving day, I was totally alert and glancing from window to window, trying to take it all in. To my right was Lake Michigan, glistening beneath the sail boats and flanked by pristine beaches. On the left it was a stark contrast of majestic office buildings and residential apartments, separated by lush parks and fountains. I couldn’t wait to explore the city.

We rarely stopped throughout the tour and after quickly settling into the hotel, we were heading out for dinner. We ate at a gorgeous little Italian place and later that evening took the bus into town to see the nightlife.

The bar we went to was everything I wanted to expect from a bar in Chicago. The exposed brick walls were draped with fairy lights and the deep mahogany floor and bar areas gave it a dingy and cosy ambience. A raised area held a pool table and juke boxes and the busty barmaids were free pouring to disastrous effect. The girls and I chatted to tourists from New York, Canada and Ireland, everyone was in high spirits and the evening passed in a haze of dancing, laughing and too much Jack Daniels.

The next morning I walked for over an hour from the hotel into the centre of Chicago to meet the girls. It was good to see more of the residential areas, the leafy suburbs and streets lined with quirky little cafes and shops. A lot of the houses had stoops, or 'small staircases leading to the entrance of an apartment or building' and the whole place reminded me of that Nickelodeon cartoon, ‘Hey Arnold!’

I had no map, but in the distance I could see the 100-storey John Hancock Center, so I walked towards it and hoped for the best. I met the girls and they decided to go to the top of the building, but feeling a little fragile, I opted to stay within the grounds. I thought I might wander around the coffee shops and boutiques. However, I had made the unfortunate decision to wear a dress that day. They don’t call Chicago ‘the windy city’ for nothing and I found myself trapped in some kind of wind tunnel desperately trying to uphold my dignity amongst the smirking, trouser-clad locals. All I could do was sit on some freezing cold steps with the pigeons and wait 40 minutes for the girls to get back to act as my shield. Not the best start but I had a great day none-the-less.

We laughed a lot that day, Christina, Steph, Lisa and I. Everything from Steph’s snapped flip flop to our plans to form the next world famous girl group cracked us up.

After a brief sunbathe in the park, we headed to Buckingham Fountain, a public icon of Chicago. The wrought bronze sculpture was beautiful and every hour there is a light and water display with the centre jet being able to shoot water up to 150 feet in the air. We had ice cream and real lemonade and chilled in the sun. We didn’t stay too long though as some strange, smiley tourist was taking pictures of us with his long lens camera.

Chicago was a little different to the other cities we had visited, because although it had the tall, impressive buildings, it seemed to have much more open space, more light and really individual little quirks. Such as ‘Cloud Gate’, nicknamed ‘the bean’ and the centrepiece of Millennium Park. The sculpture reflects Chicago’s skyline, giving us great photo opportunities and I think we enjoyed looking at our morphed reflections as much as the kids did. Chicago’s recreational areas had a much more digital and futuristic theme compared to anywhere else I have seen and it seemed like a city that had something for everyone.

As the sun was going down we were in Macy’s being sold expensive beauty products by the most over enthusiastic, typically American sales woman I have ever met. She looked and spoke like a Stepford Wife and before we knew it we were ‘throwing our negative energy out of the door and onto the street’, comparing the softness of each other’s hands and trying to contain the urge to laugh in her face and run out of the shop. We were being given the hard sell, but luckily it wasn’t long before we were skipping out of the shop laden with free samples, exhausted but happy. My main regret about Chicago was not being persistent enough to make it to Oprah's studios. They were a short commute away but I decided to stay in the city. And I call myself her No1 Fan...

Happy Times on the Bus

We spent 23 days travelling across North America and I would say that on average we spent maybe 30 hours a week on the Contiki coach. Naturally, it became our second home.

Coach trips were a chance to do a lot of thinking and I am still unsure as to whether that was a good thing or not. I spent a lot of time going over past experiences, lost loves, old friends and future prospects. I gained a new perspective on situations that I thought were dead and buried and I realised I know a couple of people who deserve my apologies.

Coach trips were also a chance to get to know people, have a laugh and take in the beautiful scenery. They were an opportunity to catch up on sleep, recover from a hangover, read and learn to love new songs. My crew and I would often grab the back seats which had more leg room and settle in for eight-hour stints. It wouldn’t be long before the daily iPod wars started.

Some people at the front were partial to none stop Bon Jovi, our tour manager liked obscure rock music and we just wanted to some easy listening R&B or Motown. It’s amazing how much emotion music choice can stir up in people and we would often just resort to shouting things towards the front or swapping the iPods when no one was looking. Childish but so much fun.

Some driving stints were just spent taking it in turns with Brendan to choose songs from his iPod, playing each other on phone scrabble or talking about our lives back home. I found it fascinating hearing where other people had grown up and how their childhoods had differed from mine.

Another part of the coach journeys were the rest stops. We would generally be let loose on a range of fast food restaurants. I swear if I never see another Wendy’s, Arby’s or Denny’s again it will be too soon. I could easily live without Walmart too. I once spent nearly the whole lunch hour searching for a sandwich, that place is unnecessarily huge. But anyway, the stops were spent sunbathing and chatting - and sharing a whole roast chicken in a car park has never felt more natural.

Cleveland - Rockin' and Rollin'

We waited a long time at Niagara to cross the border back into the States and I was nervous. I had visions of customs making me stay in Canada, having to wave off the coach before flying straight to Fiji alone. I was made to get off the coach and fill out my new Green Card form, have my photograph and fingerprints taken and pay a small fee. Nobody cracked a smile and I decided then and there that customs staff are the most stern people you will ever meet.

We were headed for Cleveland, Ohio, home to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The museum sits on the shores of Lake Erie and is dedicated to recording the history of artists and producers who have influenced the music industry, particularly in the area of rock and roll. I was just sat here wondering why Cleveland was chosen as the place to host the museum, but then my friend Google told me it’s because Cleveland is where disc jockey Alan Freed first used the term, ‘Rock and Roll’. Just in case you were interested. That might come in handy at a pub quiz or something, never know.

We had a couple of hours to wander around the impressive building and I particularly liked looking at the famous outfits of the stars. Elegantly preserved were Madonna’s infamous cone chested corset, Michael Jackson’s silver glove and Elvis Presley’s leather, rhinestone encrusted jumpsuit. One glass cabinet held handwritten Sex Pistol’s lyrics with parts scribbled out and I loved looking at John Lennon’s school reports and handmade Easter and Christmas cards to his parents. He seemed like a very funny and loving child, and it was obvious he was gifted with words even from a young age. It was sad to see his blood stained circular glasses in the next cabinet along.

That evening a few of us chilled in one of the guy's rooms and got to know each other some more. I also remember it as one of the first times we socialised with people from the other Contiki bus. This particular North America tour had been so popular that two buses were hired to do the trip side by side. The other bus had their own tour manager and we often saw them at the hotels and various rest stops. One thing that does stick in my mind is Lisa, Carl, Brendan and I being given dating advice by a bloke from the other bus who's t-shirt read, ‘I'm not a gynaecologist, but I'll take a look.’ A catch, no doubt.

Niagara Falls - A Rather Negative Post

I recall having a hangover on the morning we drove to Niagara Falls, but I don’t think that had anything to do with how incredibly underwhelmed I felt towards this iconic landmark. We pulled up in the coach and Niagara Falls was like a big hole in the ground surrounded by casinos and chain restaurants. It reminded me of Blackpool. We queued up wearing blue ponchos and waited to be ushered onto the ferry to get a closer look. It was too organised to feel magical, too touristy. I don’t know what I had imagined, but it wasn’t this. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative because after all, I was seeing the one and only Niagara Falls and part of me wishes I could be gushing about how my life changed that day, but it didn’t. It was pretty and I was interested to hear that a six year-old boy fell down it and survived, but I was keen to get off the boat and get a Diet Coke.

It was incredibly hot that day and we were left stranded for a couple of hours following the trip to the waterfalls. A few of us, including the lovely Christina, a fellow Brit, chilled on the grass eating frozen yoghurt, chatting and listening to music on Brendan’s mobile phone. It was cool, and our little group was forming.

Toronto Party Time

The first thing I remember about Toronto is almost being run over – the roads are crazy! The Green Man flashes but cars still go. After a brief argument with a driver I eventually got to the other side and cried. But anyway...

Toronto is the largest city in Canada and for all you movie buffs out there, Toronto is often used as a set double for New York City because of its close resemblance, creating a much cheaper alternative for producers. So that gives you an idea of what Toronto looks like.

It was another early start and we all set off into the city at around 8am. Nearly everyone else was going up the CN Tower. I wasn’t. I know it ‘dominates the Toronto skyline’ and ‘it’s really bloody good’ but I don’t do views and I was feeling particularly stingy that day, so I wandered off into the city alone.

While searching for an internet café, a young man directed me towards the other end of the street where he said there were lots. We got chatting and he introduced himself as Dana, a gay puppet artist, originally from Vancouver. He was very small with piercing blue eyes, a shaved head and crooked teeth. He wore a burgundy cord jacket with ripped jeans and the huge backpack and guitar he was carrying dwarfed him. I soon learned that Dana had been travelling for 15 years and everything he owned, he was holding. Dana had sold all of his belongings a few years back and had given the money to a poor family in Tanzania. He lived day-to-day, sleeping in squats, hostels and on friends’ sofas. And he seemed really happy.

Now I don’t think I could ever live the same kind of life as Dana, I do at some point want to get my career back on track and have a cute family, but he got me thinking about all the ‘stuff’ in my life. Packed up in boxes in England I have so many useless pairs of shoes, necklaces in every colour, hair products, trinket boxes and old workbooks. I even have a collection of tiny (and very pretty) notepads that are too small to even write anything in! I realised that the only things I actually cared about were my diary and my camera, everything else could be replaced.

It’s actually quite liberating to live out of a backpack. No more, which-shoes-for-this-dress dilemmas because I only have one pair to choose from - and, when it comes down to it, does anyone really care? I’m definitely going to have a clear out when I get back and I will certainly think twice before reaching for that Limited Edition lipgloss in the future.

Anyway, back to Toronto. I met up with the rest of the guys and we spent the day testing out the various parks, wandering around the shops and just soaking in as much of Toronto as possible in the space of one day. It’s kind of like New York, just minus the high blood pressure and the slow-moving tourists on every corner. Personally I appreciated the independent and whacky shops and street art that I found after saying my goodbyes to Dana.

Toronto did not disappoint on the nightlife either. That evening we all piled onto the big yellow ‘Party Bus’ for a pub crawl of Toronto’s hottest night spots. We started the night in a cool little Irish bar where Glenn, one of the Aussies on the tour, did a delightful rendition of ‘Waltzing Matilda’ and then we sampled a dingy Rock Bar and a more mainstream club. We had an insane leader who kept screaming, “I LOVE MY LIFE!” and we all chanted along with him while driving home in a drunken stupor. Unfortunately, in the early hours of the next morning we would be losing some of the group, who were off to explore more of Canada. We said our goodbyes in the hotel lobby and went off to bed. It was one of the best nights out I've ever had.

Montreal drowning

Jet boating on Montreal’s Lachine Rapids was both exhilarating and painful. We all got kitted out in thick jumpers, plastic jumpsuits, life jackets and ponchos and piled into the jet boats.

I thought the outfits were a little excessive at first, but I was thankful for my four layers after the first wave smacked me in the face.

Apparently the best (or worst) place to sit is at the front, so naturally I got as close to the front as possible, managing to scramble onto the second row next to my friend Carl from Liverpool. We chatted and laughed as the boat sped towards the rapids and I vaguely remember the guide saying something about making sure you put your head down and hold on as the boat crashes against a wave. I wish I would have listened more carefully, because the rapid known as the Hawaii 5 'O' nearly took me out. The wave hit me in the face so hard that my head was thrown back and my throat and ears were completely filled with water. There wasn’t much time to recover from this near neck breaking experience before we hit the next set of rapids. We were literally thrown from our seats and left up to our knees in freezing water.

The whole thing lasted for about one hour and it was amazing. I was quite ill that evening, maybe partially drowned, but it was worth it and nothing that a little Ear-Ex couldn’t fix.

Quebec City is Very Pretty

Crossing the border into Canada was quite traumatic.

How was I to know that the little green piece of paper that I received on arrival into Miami was important? They hadn’t stapled it into my passport! Cue a bus load of people waiting for me as I rifled through my Contiki pack frantically looking for the elusive piece of paper with three guys ranting in French and occasionally dropping bomb shells like, “We can let you in but you may not be able to get back out.” Finally, as I was close to tears, a manager appeared and explained that on arrival back in to America I may have to pay $6 for a new Green card. No problem - and off we went!

Quebec City is the capital of the Canadian province of Quebec and is very chocolate-box pretty indeed. I haven’t explored much of Europe, but Quebec City certainly had a distinct European feel with its winding cobbled streets lined with cafes and boutiques, violinists on each corner. We walked around the Old Town with a tour guide who gave us interesting snippets of Quebec City’s history.

For such a compact place, Quebec City had lots of noteworthy characteristics.
A steep, winding street known as the cote de la Montagne connects Upper Town and Lower Town and you can use the Funicular (or funky-lift-type-thing) to go between the parts from near the base of the Breakneck Stairs. This leads up to the very expensive and impressive Château Frontenac grand hotel, which I thought looked like a Princess castle. We also saw the Place Royale, where the arrest scene in ‘Catch Me If You Can’ starring Leonardo DiCaprio was filmed and the beautiful Quebec City Mural which shows 400 years of Quebec history.

There are also a ridiculous amount of beautiful people. Our tour manager, Jason told us this was because, years ago, Quebec City was over run by women, so they shipped some men over to populate it. The best looking guys got their pick of the best looking women and the less fortunate looking had to go to Montreal to try their luck. Sorry Montreal. Quebec City was also the scene of the first Contiki room party. An excuse to act immaturely, get drunk and play, ‘I have never.’ It was an eye opener and that night I realised I was in the presence of some bloody great people.

Boston - Where Everybody Knows Your Name

We set off from New York horrendously early, departing for Boston, MA at around 7:30am.

Everyone was checking each other out and I wondered which of the bunch I would have my arms flung around in a drunken haze by the end of the week.

A few hours later as we were pulling into the city, I felt physically exhausted by the situation. It sounds awful but I was tired of explaining who I was, where I came from and where I was going, 50 times over. I felt really guilty about this but I think I was just keen to get past that initial polite stage. It turned out all we needed was a good night out. That evening we ate at ‘Dick’s Last Resort’ where the purpose of the waiting staff is to be as rude as possible to customers. They practically threw our drinks at us and I was genuinely scared whilst giving my food order! It was lots of fun though and followed up by a night of dancing and bonding at a local bar.

On the first day we had our group photograph taken in front of the Boston skyline and I felt really happy. I loved Boston. It was a huge shock to me because for some reason I was expecting a grimy city full of grey high rise buildings and seedy backstreets. It had none of the above. Everything was beautiful. The lakes, the architecture, the parks and the high streets have all been meticulously planned to combine that hustle and bustle feel of city living with beautiful open spaces for sunbathing and swimming. The people are brash but charming with a fantastic accent and the locals were fascinated to hear where we had come from.

The weather was glorious that day and after visiting the Cheers Bar (where everybody knows your name!) we wandered over to Boston Common to watch a battle re-enactment. Boston is steeped in history and I loved learning about the struggle of the Irish immigrants in the 1800’s, while things like the obvious fierce rivalry between the New York Yankees and the Boston Red Sox just add to its fantastic character. All in all it was a great start to the tour.

New York New York

Home sickness was still raw on arrival into New York.


As we waited to collect our luggage, a young man was clutching a huge bouquet of cream and red roses, his eyes glued to the Arrivals Gate. When the lady he was waiting for finally appeared they just held each other for five or six minutes, only momentarily loosening their grip to kiss one another’s nose and mouth. The lady was followed by a huge family, with every generation accounted for, from toddlers to grandparents. They all laughed and cried and hugged. I had a lump in my throat and tears in my eyes but I couldn’t look away. Sometimes it takes being away from the ones you love to realise how much they mean to you.

The climate in New York was much more bearable and after surviving the many near death experiences in the cab getting to the city, we wasted no time in venturing out to explore.
Ill never forget turning onto Times Square for the first time. The hustle and bustle of the tourists melted away and I was left totally gobsmacked by the sheer size of it all. The colours, the noise and the smells merged together and I felt like I was in the middle of a circus. I couldn’t move, I just wanted to look and take it all in. Those who have been to New York though will know that in the city, you can’t stand still for too long (there are even street signs which say ‘no standing at any time’!) and amidst the camera flashes I was hurried along with the rest of the gawping foreigners.

We stayed for two and a half days and walked around until our feet bled, trying to cram in as much as possible.

We took the ferry to Staten Island, relaxed in Central Park, wandered around the impressive Financial District and heard stories from people who lived to tell their September 11 tale during a guided tour of Ground Zero.

I loved New York and its crazy locals. Sarwah and I saw one guy karate kick each street light he saw, a lady with half a face said to me, “Buy me a hotdog. It’s awful” and Steph was swiftly dragged back from her SATC dream world when a man shouted at her in the street, “ Suck my c**k bitch - go to HELL!" It all added to the experience though!

We only skimmed the surface of New York and I plan to go back in the next couple of years.

Our last evening in the Big Apple was spent meeting our new Contiki tour group at the Marrakech Hotel. It was very exciting, so exciting in fact that afterwards I happily skipped out into the street to hail a cab and was very nearly mown down by an angry New Yorker on his bike. He swerved, I screamed, but a lesson was learnt that night. Look right, look left, look right again…and then cross.

A good place to start is always the beginning - Miami

The journey began at Miami International Airport on August 10th.

Weary, hot and not knowing what to expect, we grabbed our backpacks and headed to the hostel. This was to be my first experience of a hostel and I am sure that if I was to check into the 'Miami Beach Travellers' today I would be completely unfazed. A little shell shocked would best describe the way I felt that day though. Towel and bed sheet in hand, I felt like I was approaching a prison cell. A bit dramatic I know, but I was a bit of a princess back then. I was used to my own bedroom, fluffy towels and long showers.

The time had come to say goodbye to home comforts. The room was tiny and crammed with backpacks and bunkbeds. One girl had decided to do some hand washing and her dripping clothes hung from every windowsill, bedpost and ladder. Steph, Sarwah and I didn’t mention it. We just made our beds in silence, quickly changed and headed out to see Miami Beach.

I did enjoy Miami, don’t get me wrong, but it wasn’t as glamorous or magical as I had expected it would be. It had that ‘holiday vibe’ that could easily be found in Spain or Cyprus and it certainly didn’t feel like we were 10 hours from home.

Miami is a place where everyone drives unnecessarily massive cars, shop mannequins have huge boobs, you have to be best buds with the doormen to get into clubs and people quite happily spend their days cruising up and down the strip, roof down, music blaring.

My fondest memories of Miami are the drunken ones. Free limousine rides down the strip, drinks at Nikki Beach with new friends and some late night swimming adventures with Steph spring to mind. We also met two insanely funny guys from Leeds who shared their experiences of ‘The Cuckoo’s Nest’, one of Miami’s seedier hangouts. I hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time.
The architecture in Miami is stunning and the city does look very pretty at night all lit up, but these are all things you can Google. For me, Miami was the realisation that travelling was going to be more about the weird and wonderful people who I met along the way…