From Rochdale to Ocho Rios

Another business trip. Some of my readers might be familiar with the song 'From Rochdale to Ocho Rios' by the 10cc, a British art rock and pop band from the 70's.

From Rochdale to Ocho Rios

From Ocho Rios to Dorking

From Dorking its back to Rochdale

From Rochdale to Ocho Rios

You spend half your life in transit

But that's just the way God plans it

Pack a shirt and some fresh pajamas

That's all you need

Asleep in a stream of sunlight

Awake in a dream at midnight

I'm rushing to wait for jumbo

Oh where am I now

In my profession I really get to see exotic places. My itinerary of the last four days looked like this:

Sunday: From Vancouver, BC via Chicago, IL to Buffalo, NY
I spent one hour in US immigration for no apparent reason. Nothing to worry about because the plane was delayed anyway. During transfer the carrier lost my luggage, I filed a claim and was finally in bed by midnight. My business meeting needed re-scheduling due to early morning shopping for bare necessities which got sponsored by my company and United Airlines.

Bonjour, tristesse! Greeted by gray skies, I ended up in the Eastern Hills Shopping Mall, probably built in the 70's and already ugly looking in its prime time, it looks like one more business center struggling for survival, or so it seems. At the GAP and BON-TONS I managed to acquire some half decent business attire.

 Not sure, what purpose this monument is supposed to serve, but I like it.

The Garden Place Hotel, where I stayed claimed to be 'One of the best hotels in the world'. The rooms were quite o.k., but hello? How would a kitsch hotel in the town of Williamsville be perceived as such? Maybe somebody had a sense of irony when putting up that slogan...

Monday: From Buffalo, NY via Detroit, MI to Kalamazoo, MI
On my Blackberry I was informed that my flight was canceled, and I had been scheduled for a later flight. So, I had some mediocre dinner sponsored by Delta. My travel day ended at 1AM.

Yes, Kalamazoo does exist. I couldn't believe it either. A clean little University town (Western Michigan) with lots of heritage fabrication or warehouse buildings which are or have been undergoing a transition into apartments and lofts. The origin of the name is obviously native Indian, from the Potawatomi, meaning 'boiling water'.

A personal highlight was certainly the beer sampling at the Bell's micro brewery.

Tuesday: From Kalamazoo, MI to Chicago, IL
I arrived at the Kalamazoo "Int'l" Airport only to find the whole place deserted, very much like in Stephen King's Langoliers, the movie I had seen the night before. The flight got canceled, too. I hired a limousine plus driver (sponsored by American Airlines) and could add another state to my list, while grazing Indiana on I-94 on my way to Chicago.

My last view before falling asleep.

My last meeting was at the outskirts of Chicago, close to the airport. Nothing interesting struck my eye, hence no pictures.

Wednesday: From Chicago, IL to Vancouver, BC: Arriving on time, with luggage finally in my possession, and hubby waiting outside: Home, sweet home.

Conclusion: Road trips are way more fun!
US states visited: New York, Michigan, Indiana, Illinois

Sorry for being slow with responding to your comments. Please don't let that discourage you and keep 'em coming. It's just that business trips are time robbing.

Random road memories

There is no shortage of beautiful cars. Some are in good shape, some are rusting away in junkyards.

It is always nice to see vintage cars on the road (even more so when they are yellow).

The 70's interior of the Top's Bar-B-Q diner hurts the eye.

Why am I not surprised: pick-up trucks in front of a gun store.

Nobody there? Guns scare me. Why? I might make use of them if I had one. So, weapons are better not for me.

A pretty but abandoned school. So many empty buildings, empty roads and ghost towns. The Midwest appears abandoned.

The open road. I probably could have taken the interstate, but I like these byways better.

Enjoying the sun set at Lake Norfolk.

Leaving the flat lands of Tennessee behind, and entering the rolling hills of the Ozarks.

As it seems a perfect area for motorcycling, but I haven't seen one bike. One day I'd like to return and ride the hills. Of course the Ozarks are not only a fantastic area for the outdoors, with lots of parks, rivers, lakes and hot springs, caves and waterfalls. Known as the highlands of Central America it is also of special geological interest (for me that is...)

This sign reminds me oddly of some Stephen King novel. And the shop looked a bit eerie, too.

But the most eeriest things I discovered in Branson, Missouri. It started really harmless with this wonderful 50's Diner, were I had my lunch.

And half a block away there suddenly was a stranded Titanic plus the iceberg.

Another shock while driving down the street: King Kong and Hollywood icons carved in a concrete wall!

It was a memorable road-trip, and bonus: all paid for by the company, which makes the overtime that comes with traveling (and subsequent late night online sessions) bearable.

The King

When in Memphis, I did what everybody does. Visit Graceland. Instead of paying the parking fee, the rental was tactically parked in front of the close by Harley Davidson Store.

They had some nice bling going, but also a lot of Elvis related kitsch, only HD branded.

The Front end of the King's home. Pretty humble, considering the big bucks he was making.

There is no accounting for taste. The living room.

 The center of disturbed taste: the so called Jungle Room.

Walls full of golden records, cabinets full of weird clothing, and buckets full of jewelery,

yet the house looks quite normal.

It is obvious where the money has been spent on: cars, bikes and planes...

Elvis. Certainly one of the most popular pop icons of the 20th century, and here at Graceland they are doing their best to keep the legacy of the King alive. Fans are still lining up to visit is home and grave and many are coming for repeat visits. It was a nice experience, so when in Memphis, follow the crowd and do as every tourist does.