The First Article
The first is in the Travel Magazine (called T) by Alex Kuczynski. It talks about Bombay’s upper-crust, the top 1% which has over 99% of the city’s wealth*. The kind that goes clubbing, is dressed in high fashion and eats sushi at the exclusive Wasabi by Morimoto at the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower (called “the nexus for social life in Mumbai” by Kuczynski). For those who watch the Food Network – yes, it’s the same Iron Chef Morimoto.
*These statistics reflect the aforementioned Bombayite characterisitic of exaggerating and are not verified scientifically.

He starts off talking about a fashion show by perennial socialite and now-fashion designer*, Shobha De’s new line of saris, at the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower:
*Wtf? She’s a fashion designer now? Does she have no bounds on spending her spouse’s money? And on pure principle, I refuse to accent her name.

Some of the saris showed the crest of the buttocks, while others soared in potentially scandalous slits up the thigh. But there were no signs of protest from the crowd. This isn’t Delhi, where public outcry ensued after Richard Gere recently planted a public kiss on the actress Shilpa Shetty at a fund-raiser. This is Mumbai, the commercial and entertainment center of India and the country’s fastest-growing city, home to more and more millionaires and Maybachs and restaurants and nightclubs and strip bars and movie studios and immigrants and luxury-goods stores every day. And its citizens ? or some of the privileged ones, at least ? are eating it up, embracing the explosion of luxury culture. [link]

The money quote is from Shobha herself which, I have to (grudgingly) admit, is a good observation. Despite (or perhaps, because of) the fact that it’s made by someone who has put hobnobbing with Bombay’s elite under ‘S’ (for socialite) in the Bombay Yellow Pages.

After her fashion show, D? explained to me Mumbai’s social architecture. ?If you are in Delhi, it’s which minister you know,? she said. ?If you are in Chennai, it’s all about which caste you are. In Calcutta, it’s what your grandfather did. But in Mumbai, it’s not about that kind of rigid social structure any longer. It’s about what you have done.? She paused and added a thought: ?And it is a city that is very cruel to losers. It can be heartless to losers.? [link]

In case you’re wondering why I’m coming down on Shobha and her ilk, I’ll let Kuczynski answer that:

This is a city of almost unimaginable contradiction. It is home to more millionaires than any other city in India yet is also home to the largest slum in Asia. The ladies who lunch don’t speak of their philanthropic work to end the city’s abject poverty. ?There are simply too many suffering,? one socialite explained. ?So we focus on things we can actually have an impact on, like art and gardening.? [link]

With socialites like that, who needs social workers?

And, of course, no article about Bombay in any Western mainstream medium is complete without portraying the stark income inequality* that is becoming more and more a malady of the entire country (as I have mentioned earlier on this blog). In fact, the author spends a fair amount of time pontificating about the divide. Here’s a sampling:
*Can you really blame the Westerners though, when our socialites are so socially aware? Sorry, I’m still not over the last quote.

Directly behind the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower, a five-star property built in grand Victorian style in 1903, children bathe in a trash-filled rivulet that runs along the side of the street. (Nearly half the city’s population lacks running water or electricity.)

[...]

As the crowd started flailing to Blondie and KRS-One on the dance floor, Rajesh Mehrotra, who is in the import-export business, jabbed his finger at men around the room and recited net worths: $100 million. $300 million. $1 billion. ?We all own our own businesses,? Mehrotra said.

?So we party until 4. Then we go to work at 11.? [link]

Crawford Market – Outside and Inside

Kuczynski also gives an absolutely brilliant description of the auto-rickshaw, comparing it with Bombay and the balsa-wood infrastructure on which it is becoming an emerging world city. Of course, if you’re talking about a weak infrastructure, the rich-poor divide is a part of it.

The auto-rickshaw is a sublimely apt symbol for contemporary India, one that combines both the desire for progress and the dubious methods by which that progress is sought. Only here, in the most densely populated city in the world, would it have struck someone as a good idea to take an already unstable means of transport ? a seat with no seat belts, a platform with no doors, a steering wheel and windshield, all supported on three small wheels ? and add to it a powerful engine, enabling it to hurtle along a highway at up to 35 miles per hour… The city’s population has swollen at such a pace that it has overwhelmed its economic and physical infrastructures. India is emerging as a world player, while much of its society remains intensely spiritual and extremely poor. [link]

Wait a sec! “[E]xtremely poor” I agree with, but “intensely spiritual”? What the hell is that supposed to mean? See now, that’s the very reason I started this site – to dispel that stereotype.

The Second Article
Speaking of income inequality, the second article (in the Travel Section) is by Matt Gross. As the Frugal Traveler, he spends a weekend in Bombay on a budget of only $500 or 21,500 rupees. This article is more an entertaining description of the city, without any serious social commentary. It’s written more for the armchair tourist or potential Bombay visitor than anyone else. Still, this journo certainly has a conscience.

Let’s be honest: in a city like Mumbai, that’s a phenomenal amount, enough to sustain a backpacker for a month or one of the city’s seven million slum-dwellers for a year. The idea of blowing it all in 48 hours made my stomach queasy (no, it wasn’t the tap water), so I’d arranged to offset my indulgence with altruism: Sunday morning, I’d teach an English class for the Bombay Leprosy Project, a nonprofit group that helps victims of the disease. [link]

Due to circumstances beyond his control he doesn’t end up teaching there, but he does a bunch of touristy things over the course of the weekend, like going to a night-club (Priv?), eating at Trishna and even gets some shirts custom-tailored for himself (at Bombay Electric), amongst other things.

What struck me as strange was the fact that when he wanted a Gujarati thali he ended up going to some place called Golden Star instead of going to Rajdhani. Everyone knows that Rajdhani is the best thali in town. Disclosure: I’m biased towards Rajdhani, so don’t take this personally, Golden Star fans.

Also, neither of them go to the Mohammed Ali Road-Bhendi Bazaar-Chor Bazaar section of town (although they do both go to the infamous Falkland Road). For one thing, they miss out on the food. And another, they miss out on an entire sub-section of the population.

These Amreekan journos need to brush up on their research and/or contacts, I’m tellin’ ya.

Check out the two articles and their respective slideshows.

Update: Matt Gross emailed me and justified his visiting Golden Star over Rajdhani.

I would’ve loved to go to Rajdhani over Golden Star, but (1) I wanted to see where a taxi driver would take me based on my request, and (2) I’d heard Rajdhani (which is right around the corner, yeah?) can be too packed to bear. Plus, I figured everyone was already writing about Rajdhani, so who needs me to do so as well?

Makes perfect sense, Matt. Also, like I said, I’m biased and loyal to Rajdhani but I have (admittedly) heard good things about Golden Star.

One section of the capital of Puerto Rico – San Juan – has cobbled streets, brightly colored buildings and beautiful sculptures. This part, called Old San Juan, shows the strong influence the Spanish had on Puerto Rico, and also has several historical monuments and forts. The old city is very small and very dense and we took a self-guided walking tour.

We started with a view of the marina, and an old sail-ship moored there.

Next, we walked by La Aduana, the old, pink Customs House, which is still used by the US and Puerto Rican port authorities.

Across the street from the Customs House, is a corner of the wall that once enclosed the old city. And there’s a watchtower there, which are the icons of San Juan, as you can see at the bottom of the pic.

From there, we walked along the wall, and passed by some old statues which precede La Princesa – formerly, a jail (and now an art museum).

The statue on the left is part of a set of three that’s displayed prominently. Although I’ve looked around a little bit, I’ve not been able to find out exactly who created them, or how old they are, or what they stand for.

Being on a limited schedule, we didn’t stop in at the museum, but its huge white wall had ornate brackets for their lamps, and there were some other travelers taking a break, perhaps.

We walked on to Raices (meaning ‘roots’), an imposing bronze sculpture and fountain. The fountain represents the Taino, European and African ancestors of the modern-day Puerto Rican. Here’s a detail.

The large city wall then turns a corner and pushing us to the edge of the water, left a narrow path to walk down on…

…but also gave a nice view of one of the city’s edges.

Going inside the wall and entering the city from the San Juan gate, we were hit in the face with a gulmohar tree sandwiched between two colorful buildings, offering some welcome shade.

Looking back, we saw the inside of the San Juan gate which looks out on to the bay (or bahia). Here’s a detail.

Taking a side-road led us up to a view of some of Old San Juan’s famed colored houses, some of which have been around since the Spanish colonial era. This view looks down Calle Sol (or Sun Street).

To the left, we saw Plazuela de la Rogativa, on which there is a statue commemorating a march made by a bishop and some townswomen to scare off the British (it worked).

Beyond the statue is a nice panorama of new San Juan, sandwiched between two watchtowers.

To the right, is a beautiful old house with a mural of Mary and Jesus.

From there, we walked up a small pathway, past the Instituto de Culturo Puertorrique?a…

…and on to Fuerto San Felipe del Morro also known as the El Morro fortress, which is surrounded by a vast field.

We got there at closing time, so we didn’t really get a chance to go in, but across the street from El Morro are two great sculptures. Again, I can’t seem to find any info on the who/why/when, but they’re definitely worth a look.

Walking away from Casa Blanca (the ancestral home of Ponce De Leon’s descendants) we passed by some colorful walls.

You turn right on to Calle Cristo and see the blue-ish cobbled path in all its glory – a trademark of Old San Juan.

At the end of the road is the Capilla del Cristo (Chapel of Christ), in front of which we saw a family having dinner in the middle of the road.

Also on the Calle Cristo is the Catedral de San Juan Bautista or the San Juan Cathedral.

On the way back to the car, we passed some locals rapt in animated conversation at the street corner.

Alas, all good things must come to an end and we too, had to say goodbye to our island in the sun.

Having recently been introduced to the wonders of the navigational GPS, we decided to get one for our rental car. You know – so we wouldn’t get lost. So we got off our eleven hour red-eye and mentally prepared ourselves for just enough energy to pick up the car, drive to the hotel, eat something and crash.

Puerto Rico, it seems, operates on Indian Standard Time. After finishing the paperwork for the car, we had to wait another twenty or twenty-five minutes in tropical heat,for our car to show up. Ok, fine. We’re used to that. We then get into the air-conditioned goodness of the car interior and program the GPS to take us to the hotel. The hotel is well-known and pretty huge, so it’s already in the database, and we really just have to click a few buttons. Then we sit back, relax and let the wonders of technology take us to our destination. Please note, we are so confident that we don’t even bother to buy a map.

Now, I was told the hotel is around forty-five minutes or so away from the airport. After driving for that long, we see no sign of the hotel. But we see the ocean, and we think that it’ll be there soon. Then an hour goes by… an hour and ten minutes. Finally, the GPS tells us to take an exit. Yes, we think, we’re finally there! But when the thing tells us to drive for another half an hour, we begin to get suspicious and pull over. The hotel information is on my wife’s laptop and, for some reason, only that .pdf file won’t open.

So at this point, we are hungry, tired and at a seedy gas station in the middle of an island in the Caribbean, with no clue where we are, and nowhere to call. We are seriously contemplating writing “HELP” in large letters with rocks in the hopes that a plane will pass by. Then we remembered that the guy at the rental car place had said that there is an Avis desk at our hotel. And had also given us the number. So we buy a map from the gas station and call that number.

The sales rep is this gentle lady who seems extremely perturbed when we tell her where we are. It’s no wonder. We were practically at other end of the island, diagonally! Take a look – see where it says “NOT the hotel (Ponce)”? That’s where we ended up (Ponce is the name of the city where we were).

It turns out that GPS units are good for navigating around the island – except to our hotel. There’s some malfunction which takes people to the other end of the island when you enter the hotel address. See, this only vindicates my theory that there is an external conspiracy to thwart my progress.

Anyhow, a Subway sandwich (our first authentic Puerto Rican meal, by the way), a couple of hours of driving and a lot of resolve later, we are *finally* at our hotel. I missed an entire session at the conference, and the schmoozing at the welcome reception. But I’d say it was worth it – I got something to write about and a tour of Puerto Rico. That’s full paisa vasooli.

Oh yeah, and take a look at the rain-forest view from our room.

We get the ocean view when we look the other way. More pics to come as I get time to post them.

Also, to make life easier for you, I’ve created a text box in the sidebar with links for each of the days of the road trip to make for simpler navigation.

Enjoy.

Meanwhile, uploading the pics is taking longer than I thought because I have to make them small enough to make for quick page-loading, but large enough so they don’t look too bad. I’ve done it for Days 1, 2 and 3, so feel free to go back to those posts and take a look. The posts have been edited as well to make them look somewhat more decent than the “dashing off a few words before bed” feel that they all had. Ok, they still have that feel, but I’ve tried to clean up the typoa tyois typos.

Maybe some time later, I’ll upload them to Flickr as well. But for now, enjoy!

Update 1: Just added in the pics for Days 4 and 5.

Update 2: And the pics are complete. Just finished adding in Days 6 and 7.

We finally made it! 3,537 miles, 14 states, 7 days, 2 national parks, a national monument, 2 and a half borderline schizophrenic episodes and 1 a/c compressor later we arrive in the Bay Area to (blech!) hit traffic at the Bay Bridge. We made it home, however. Just about.

That six-digit number up there is the final mileage for the car, incidentally.

Nevada
Before I start the philosophizing and the reminiscing, I said I would take a pic of every state that we drove through, so here’s a token one of Reno, NV, where we stopped to fill gas. Not very pretty, I know, but hey, I just tell ‘em as I see ‘em.

Now, The Philosophizing
I guess the only thing I can say about it is that it’s been a long, strange trip! Learning the different states, the subtle changes in terrain, income-levels, culture and geography has been quite an eye-opener. It’s almost like an information overload and it will take some time for the whole thing to sink in, I guess. There’s so much to say, that I’m completely overwhelmed for once in my life.

It pretty much took me around 24 hours to start to feel some sense of normalcy. Yesterday I woke up, had my coffee and started to mime the gestures of starting the ignition, changing the gears, etc. The RXGeek had to forcibly restrain me for a few seconds before I realized that we were not on the road any more.

The Chariot of Fire: Afterthought
Yesterday, we walked everywhere! Ha! No need for the junk-mobile. Well, I don’t want to hurt it’s feelings. The bugger has seen the vast expanses of the midwest, then driven all over NYC, then driven all across the country, and is now going to see the west coast. That’s more than can be said for a large chunk of the world’s population. And, even though it’s an old geezer [or you could even call it a geyser, judging from that one time it over-heated and water shot out of the radiator mouth like Old Faithful, but I digress] it’s still going strong. A little dirty, a little scarred and a little beat-up, but then again, aren’t we all?

End of an Era
And it is the end of an era. I am, alas, no longer a grad student nor am I living the single life any more. No, I have neither graduated, nor am I married. But those are just technicalities that will come within a short period of time. The road trip was a rite of passage of sorts. My bar mitzvah, my janoi ceremony, my navjot. Call it what you will. Enough gray hairs have accumulated that I can no longer live the life of my foolish youth. I can, in fact, look back at my youth and call it foolish. To paraphrase Michael Stipe: It’s the end of the world as I know it. At the same time, it’s also a new beginning. To quote Bob Marley, “When one door is close/Many more is open!”.

More to come as I settle in here in SF and the consequences of the trip sink in. But in the meantime, I have only one thing to say to you east-coasters: 62 degrees farenheit, baby!

[I said I was alll grown-up, I didn't say that I had to act that way!]

The Chariot of Fire
The day usually starts with me checking the coolant in the Chariot of Fire, as I affectionately refer to the car since the air conditioner stopped working.

Mammoth Springs
Then we drove through Mammoth Springs in Yellowstone. It was great. Just breathing that mountain air was great. The springs were a little dry for some reason, but the rock formations resulting from the springs were fantastic, as you can see.

We got to see the stalactites that form with the falling water. No water, but still pretty awe-inspiring.

Even the trees were dry. This one caught my eye.

Mini Geyser
So Yellowstone is famous for its geysers. Old Faithful, in particular. We couldn’t see Old Faithful, because it was quite a distance out of our way but we got to see this little guy in Mammoth Springs. He’s only six inches long, but it’s a geyser!

Ok, ok, we also saw a real geyser: The Steamboat Geyser. Which just happens to be the world’s tallest active geyser. Quite a constrast from the little guy above, no?

Caribou
We even spotted caribou. On two separate occasions, no less. This first time it was a lone male, and he was just chilling in the shade (literally). There were tourists going crazy all around him crowding around and taking pictures. In fact, the guy caused a traffic jam on the Yellowstone roads. But he was totally at peace with his surroundings. Just hangin’, you know.

Now, on the second occasion, it was an entire herd. But these other caribou were younger, more rebellious. When I asked them very politely if they would pose for me, they turned around and showed me their kundis. Kids, these days, I tell you!

My Very Own, Private Idaho
After a pretty boring lunch in West Yellowstone, we once again gunned it at 85mph down the interstate in to Idaho, on our way to Utah. There was literally no one else on the freeway.

The clouds were beckoning, and since I was trying to get at least one pic from each state we pulled off at the Devil Creek Reservoir which is officially in the middle of nowhere and took a pic of the Chariot of Fire.

Utah
We drove into Utah, stopping at a rest area to get some respite from the sun beating merceilessly down on us. They had a little TV viewing area showing a Utah promotion video which was on a loop. The video sucked, but because it was a completley sun-less room, I saw the damn thing around 3 or 4 times. If you have any questions about Utah tourism, ask me. It feels like I know Robert Redford personally now.

In all seriousness though, Utah is a pretty damn beautiful state. Even the rest areas have nice views. Check it out.

Salt Lake
We decided to drive past Salt Lake City because of time constraints, and went right on to the Salt Lake. We did stop at the Lake and took a few touristy shots. Here’s one.

Filthy Greasy Spoon (Blech!)
After the Salt Lake stop however, we stopped off at a Travel Center at a filthy, greasy spoon chain called Country Pride. Man, it was by far one of the most disgusting places I have ever been to. It was essentially, a truck stop, but even the truckers didn’t stop in there. The food was by no means redeeming as is sometimes the case with these places. There were crumbs of food all over the floor, there was more oil and grease in the food than there is in Texas. Man, it was disgusting! The fact that we had not stopped off at a nice place in Salt Lake City just added salt to our wounds.

We hightailed it out of there ASAP, and got back on the road to drive down 80 West, through the Bonneville Salt Flats (which is one big desert of salt), into the sun setting on the mountains. It was beautiful. It made up for the lousy diner experience (which, I have to admit, still makes me a little nauseous).

It’s right around exit 99 on I-80. Prospective travelers, consider yourselves warned.

Wonderful, Wonderful Wendover
We stopped off at the oasis of Wendover, UT which is like a beacon in the darkness. You can see the casinos here from something like 10-15 miles away. There’s no other sign of civilization for around 100 miles east. Well, no sign except for this sculpture by this guy [here's another, nicer pic]. And let me tell you, it’s like a bolt from the blue. Or, more appropriately, a bolt from the white, since the salt flats are just huge expanses of salt.

Today, we’re going to make it back to San Francisco. And it’s going to be a long, hot drive through Nevada. But it’s the last day of driving, the last day of the trip and the end of an era. But more on that last part later. See you’ll again in 24 hours…

The day started with a trip to Mt. Rushmore from Rapid City. One word summarizes it: Overrated. I guess seeing it around a hundred times in pictures and movies takes away from the awe that one would expect seeing it face to face (pun intended) for the first time. Also, the fact that it was pretty touristy didn’t exactly help things. Not to diminish Mr. Borglum’s achievement – it is, by any standards impressive – but I guess I’m from that generation which grew up on video games and MTV and that has no appreciation for the finer things in life. What can I tell you? It was, at best, ok.

The leather-clad bikers were here as well. Not quite as friendly as the Badlands guy, but thought I’d get them in anyway.

The Dreaded Air Conditioner
We started the trip to Yellowstone early for a change, and everything was going fine until I tried to turn on the air-conditioner. And the damn thing doesn’t come on. Let me tell you folks, I spent a fortune having the thing serviced. Some more cash went in to putting in a new compressor just yesterday. And today it doesn’t come on! To illustrate the gravity of the situation, let me just say that the only reason for my getting in to that goddamned car in the morning, the one thing that keeps me going through all the driving is the peace of mind I get from knowing that my air-conditioner rocks. Correction: Used to rock. The wonderful feeling of feeling cool, calm and comfortable whilst the world outside burns. It’s Nero-esque, I admit. But it’s all I’ve got, ok? So get off my back. I just had to drive approximately 500 miles in the dry South Dakota – Wyoming – Montana sun at 85 miles per hour with my goddamned window open and sweat pouring down my face. Damn, that’s torture! Where’s the Geneva convention when you need it most? All I can say is that this only goes to reinforce my total lack of faith in the existence any supernatural being(s).

Sheridan
Despite that setback, we did stop off at a nice place in Wyoming for lunch. It’s called Sheridan and it’s allegedly the “#1 Western Town”. Hyperbole notwithstanding, it was also the home of Buffalo Bill for a time. He stayed at the now famous (?) Sheridan Inn.

Walking along main street, we asked the postman for a good place to eat, and he suggested Mexican. Hmmm, I wonder why? But on telling him that we didn’t want any, he suggested the local place-to-be, which turned out to be a cafe called Java Moon. This time I did remember the name. It was hustling and bustling with all ten of Sheridan’s residents waiting in line for lunch. Ok, I’m kidding, but it was pretty crowded. Oh, and did I mention it was air conditioned?

After lunch, we walked along main street and it was the day for the local market I guess, because everyone was selling their stuff on the street. We ran into this nice young lady selling books. We didn’t buy any, but I took her picture nonetheless.

On To Yellowstone
We finally got back on the road to Gardiner, MT, which is the town closest to the part of Yellowstone in Montana. Incidentally, Yellowstone is mostly in Wyoming, but we drove across Wyoming, into Montana, and then back into Yellowstone in Wyoming since we wanted to stick on freeways and get in and out of there fast.

We stopped for gas at this gas station in Middle-of-Nowhere, WY, just before we crossed over in to Montana. They had the old-style gas pumps with the rolling ceramic numbers.

What I liked most about it, was that unlike big city gas stations, this one catered to the refueling of alternative modes of transportation as well. Take a look a little to the left of the blue truck in the middle on the right-hand side above. Well, let me close up a bit, that should make it easier.

Montana
Equine transportation notwithstanding, my car was still hot as ever. Driving at 85 mph with the windows open under the dry Montana sun was, needless to say, quite unpleasant. We decided to stop off at Billings, MT for a break from the relentless sun, and to get hotel names to call and make reservations so we wouldn’t end up without a hotel room, like we almost did in Rapid City.

Billings is not so bad a town. In fact, it’s supposed to be ‘The Magic City‘. No magic for us, though the air-conditioner in the information center felt magical. We even drove by the post office and it had yellow stones in the background. Get it? Yellow stones on our way to Yellowstone? Sorry, that was bad. It must be the heat.

Yellowstone, At Last
I just have to say, even before we got there it was fantastic. Mountain air, cooler temperatures and we even spotted a rainbow. No pot of gold, though. Hope you can see it down there, since it’s pretty faint. Even if you can’t, the mountains are still pretty nice.

Tomorrow: Heading off to Mammoth Springs and perhaps Old Faithful, although I have no clue where it is. We have limitations on time, so we’re just going to skim the surface of the park. No worries, it’s an excuse to come back later on. Will keep you all posted…

Not So Bad
On the bright side, the car broke down in the biggest town in almost a 100 mile radius, and only after we were a few miles from our hotel. It could have been a lot worse. And, the town people are really nice. The guy at the pizza place where we got our dinner came out to take a look, gave his advice and some water for the car. The people at the dealership finished the job in half the time they said they would. Now, this is a first for me. I have never, repeat never, had this happen to me. Plus, they also gave us a loaner for the time the car was in the shop. It wasn’t exactly a Rolls Royce, as you can see below, but it worked and got us around town, ok. Given that “town” was probably a mile and a half from end to end certainly helped. On the whole, we got a good break, got to drive around town and got to relax a bit. So, all things considered, one might even consider this a blessing in disguise.

South Dakota
So we set off at around noon after everything was hunky dory (carwise, I mean) and the plan was to try and get as far as possible. Nothing eventful really happened – we crossed the border into SD pretty much as planned. And the good thing is that we were speeding all the way at the, now usual, 85 mph. The next stop was the Badlands National Park. Of course, we don’t forget to smell the flowers along the way. In this case, they were sunflowers. And they didn’t smell at all. But who’s keeping track, anyhow?

We also crossed the Lewis and Clark Memorial Bridge in South Dakota, which goes across the Missouri River. This made for the second major river crossing of the trip so, of course, we had to stop and take a picture to immortalize this precious moment in our lives.

The Badlands
We made it there by late afternoon and let me tell you this, folks: The place is beautiful. It was once a sea bed a few million years ago and fossils of sea creatures are still found there. But it is like an oasis in the desert. After seeing nothing but flat, burned out farmland for, literally, hundreds of miles, the whole park’s beauty was really accentuated. It’s difficult to describe in words, so here are some pictures. Even they don’t do it justice, but it’s the next best thing to being there, I suppose. I highly recommend a trip, if you haven’t already been there.

Here’s a panoramic view of a part of it.

And here’s my car in front of the badlands (isn’t she cute?).

Here’s a biker dude in front of some rocks.

Bikers were an integral part of the first half of our trip, because of a huge bike rally in Sturgis, SD which is around half an hour from Rapid City, SD. And Rapid City is the city that’s closest to Mt. Rushmore, and is also where we were headed. Most of the time, these bikers look scary all dressed in leather, with tattoos and piercings. But I have to say they were always polite in all our interactions (holding doors open for us, saying their pleases and thank yous, etc.). This guy was nice enough to give a little salute for my shot. So, of course, I had to include it in for you guys.

And if you happen to be one of those grumpy types who isn’t already taken aback by the sheer beauty of the park, there’s more. As you get towards the end of the park, you get to see the different colored rocks there. Again, words will not do justice and photos come a close second. So, I recommend to get there, but here’s a three-step program for visual wonder:

Step 1: You start with your basic purples, yellows and browns.

Step 2: Next, add some grays in, for good measure.

Step 3: And finally, take a closer look.

You follow this three-step plan, and I’ll guarantee you won’t walk away disappointed!

Alas, all good things must come to an end, and this was no different. It was a tearful goodbye. So I’ll end the day with a cheesy “looking back as we look ahead” kind of sentimental shot for the parting. The sign says ‘Leaving Badlands National Park’. Sniff!

Wall Drug
We drove by the famous Wall Drug which is a store, well, more like a mall, in Wall, SD. Of course, had to take a pic.

I really don’t know what the hype is, but I have to say the marketing was pretty brilliant. Starting around a hundred miles or so before the store, they put up several little signs (practically one at every milepost) with all kinds of publicity slogans. In those burnt-out fields, the only thing you notice are these signs. At first, you’re curious, but around fifty or sixty miles down the line you’re hypnotized by the repeating signs into absolutely having to know what it is. It’s nothing more than a store, of course, but we got suckered in to driving by it. Didn’t stop there, though.

Wall, on the other hand, I think is a town of as many residents as there are employees of Wall Drug. It’s also supposed to be ‘The Window to the West’. Building castles in the air with that slogan, methinks.

They even have a Chamber of Commerce (if you can see the billboard). Go ahead, check them out.

Rapid City
We got in to Rapid City by evening, but all the hotels were full of our biker friends. They didn’t seem too nice at that point, let me tell you. Nonetheless, we managed to get a room at a decent hotel. Fairly clean, too. Can’t complain.

Tomorrow: In the morning, we see Rushmore and then make it to Yellowstone by day’s end.

We started the day with a hearty breakfast at the Baker Hill Pancake House Restaurant in Elgin, IL. A local Greek diner, we started chatting with the owner about the abysmal state of coffee that one gets in most local places. The owner was sincerely empathetic, and sometime after the conversation a frappe miraculously appears on our table. And it was good! I’m thinking that this somewhat redeems the midwesterners of the pervasive problem of weak coffee.

After a quick oil change and tyre rotation at the mechanic across the street from the diner, we head on towards Sioux Falls, SD. On the way, we spot this Walmart nestled cozily amongst the corn fields of Illinois.

And it happens to be right across from, hold your breaths now, an authentic Illinois farm! Three words: Golly, gee and wowee!

Going Mad In Madison
Well, the plan was to get to Sioux Falls, SD. But at around 11am or so, we’re passing Madison, WI and we decide to stop for a coffee somewhere. So, we head off I-90, get in to town, just to grab a quick coffee. On the way we take some snaps of the capitol.

Then we circle around looking for a good place for around forty minutes! Finally, we find something near the Capitol building, park illegally (unintentionally) and head over to the coffee shop. Once more, my pre-conceived notions of midwesterners and coffee are challenged. Unfortunately, I can’t remember the name, otherwise, I’d put it up here.

Getting out of town turns out to be a little problematic since we get stuck on the wrong side of the railway tracks while a s-s-l-l-o-o-w-w freight train ambles by. Nobody else seems even slightly perturbed that it’s taking around an hour (or so it felt) to pass by. To compound things, we go up the road, overtake the train since the road runs parallel to the tracks, and guess what? We’re stuck while it crosses the road, which also happens to be the entrance ramp to the freeway, yet again! Somebody wasn’t thinking straight when they designed that part of the town.

The Mississippi
So after all those shenanigans, it seems unlikely that we’re going to make it all the way to Sioux Falls. But, after a quick (but late) lunch in LaCrosse, WI, we cross the Mississipi. This makes it official that we are now on the west of the country. So we, of course, have to stop off to take some pics.

Here’s one with my car in the river. Well, almost in the river, at any rate. We westerners are quite prone to exaggerate, you know! It’s a cultural thing. Ahem!

Next, we head in to Minnesota, and we start gunning the accelerator. We did around 85 mph pretty much all the way through. We didn’t get to Sioux Falls, but we’re less than an hour away from there in Worthington, MN, where I am just about ready to pass out…

And I Would Drive A Thousand Miles
Oh yeah, I should also mention that we covered the first thousand miles today. It was somewhere in Wisconsin.

The number on top is the total mileage of the car. Yep, she’s been around for a while. The number below was reset when we started the trip. It just crossed mile 999.9.

Tomorrow, we’ll have to see what happens. Just trying to be realistic, here. Will explain later.