Twenty Hours in America

26Jul2009

I am sitting at the entrance to Glacier National Park, MT, waiting for my Seattle pictures to finish uploading onto Flickr. It's morning out of interest. This is my first experience of the Mountain time and I'm feeling a little jaded from the hour time difference. However, the three tight-lipped Scots seem pretty old hand at this stuff now. Particularly Neil, are self-proclaimed 'best driver in the group'.

600 miles ago we were in Seattle, WA. We saw a lot, and we certainly walked a lot. We visited Pike Place Market a lot, gandered down the same avenue about seventeen hundred times, saw Qwest and Safeco. Mariners tickets were sadly just too expensive. Glen also bought the biggest apple any of us have ever seen. Here it is beside one of my measly Washington cherry.

There were other highlights but the most surreal happening in Washington state was coming across this sign:

We duly went in, turned down the opportunity for a $6 pint of harp - 'four pints of harp por favor' - and sipped on our lager for two hours until...

Like I said, surreal. Despite Neil's protests we felt it was time to see more of Seattle though and left Fado. But we couldn't escape Everton FC.

They look like the Harlem Globetrotters...

Well, Glen's laptop is about to die, we have a mountain range to negotiate and we don't have Neil 'Colin McCrae' Finlayson at the wheel. Instead our lives will be in Steve's hands.