A sad day, we had to get up early to give the RV back after a frantic clean up session that left it coated in so much Clorox that it smelled like a swimming pool. Over the month, Matthew had clocked up some 7500 miles, no mean feat and I’ll be laying off having him drive me anywhere for a while.
The RV centre was a revelation. We had seen large RVs out on the road but there were some in the sales centre that were beyond belief. The one in the photo above has a fold out deck at the back and a log effect gas fire in a full sized kitchen. Insane!
I would definitely go RVing again. The freedom to just potter about on your own terms appeals to me. I like being able to do my own cooking, I eat out enough after all. Despite spending a lot of time in hotels, I do find some aspects of them irritating (turn down service for example. I’m an adult, I can get into bed my bloody self and I’m not going to chow down on a chocolate wafer when I’ve just brushed my teeth am I?) while the level of social interaction required by B&Bs is beyond me. I like to be left alone. A lot. The other thing about an RV is the ease with which one can take a satisfying nap en route. Try that in a car.
All in all, I’m an RV fan. However, as they are firmly in the ‘if it floats, f$$ks or flies, rent it’ category, the bedecked behemoth won’t be appearing on my driveway anytime soon. A more sedate pace would be good next time though and I fancy a tour of the Pacific Northwest or the coast of Norway would be rather enjoyable in an RV.
We had a pile of band merch left to get back to the UK and so we left the RV centre behind and made for a Fedex office nearby. This was right next to a restaurant, Fez bar, and with piles of luggage to tote around, wasting our time in there seemed as good an idea as any.
The restaurant was buzzing and it very slowly dawned on me as we looked around the patio that a) my solid record of wandering into predominantly gay establishments in strange cities remains very much intact, it’s like a homing instinct or something, probably honed by years of cavorting on the dance floor at CC Blooms and b) if Matthew was gay, he’d make out like a bandit judging by the eye he was getting, even with a scruffy beard from weeks of touring. Most galling, I actually have to put effort into attempting to look attractive, he just shows up.
The atmosphere was raucous and the patrons decked out in Pride beads. A good time had clearly been had by all the previous evening and our own slightly dull heads from an end of trip celebratory gin indulgence were obviously shared. We opted for Bloody Mary’s but Mimosas were the go to for most of the brunch punters. The brave souls next to us even hit up some straight tequila shots. That would be beyond me.
We passed the afternoon away, sipping Bloody Mary’s and making lists of things to do before moving and afterward. With the sun beginning to dip, we got in a taxi and headed for the airport, our American adventure over.