End of the road... nearly

One of the great things that comes with the freedom of driving around the States is stumbling across people and places you wouldn't normally see. One such place was in a small town called Glendale, Utah. We were heading west, away from Bryce Canyon, when I spotted a couple of old rusty classic American cars by the side of the road so we stopped for a closer look. It was then that we saw another old car, then another and then another – there were hundreds of them and they were all lying around in this sort of overgrown garden. Then an old man appeared on an old tractor wanting to know, understandably, what I was doing on his land. After a quick chat he told me that he'd lived there his whole life and amassed all these cars over the years – though to what end wasn't entirely clear. Upon finding out that I was English, he told me that his family had originated in England, that his surname was Spencer and he wondered if I knew which part of England they might have been from. I had to explain that Spencer was quite a common surname and I wasn't sure where they'd be from – but he still gave me his card anyway, just in case I ever found out and could let him know! Then, when he discovered my name was Will, he was genuinely delighted because his name was Bill and he shouted "well don't that beat all!" as if we might somehow be related. We're not.

It was time to start our journey back towards Los Angeles to drop the van off. From where we were, the most direct route took us back through Las Vegas – which pleased Claire no end as she seems to have acquired a gambling obsession since we've been out here. We limited our stay to just one night and it was just as well because Vegas had changed. When we came here back in March it was fairly quiet and the hotels were all very cheap. Now it was much busier, all the prices had gone up and even the gambling was more expensive – the $3 limit tables we'd played before had all become $15 limit tables. At least the drinks were still free! With Vegas being busier however, the madness seemed to have been turned up a notch too. We were particularly taken with a bizarre karaoke lounge we found, where senior citizens belted out classic pop hits while a scantily-clad dancer writhed around enthusiastically on a podium beside them. The under-dressed girl seemed incapable of dancing in time with anything, which might have had something to do with the many empty cans of Red Bull that surrounded her. I was worried that her exertions may cause one of the old chaps to get over-excited and keel over so we left to the surreal sound of an octogenarian pipe-smoker banging out Ladies' Night by Kool & The Gang.

From arguably the liveliest town in the world we went next to what should have been one of the deadest – a small ghost town called Calico. This was once a bustling silver mining town but once all the silver had gone, so had any reason to stay and the town was all but abandoned. I was really excited about seeing an abandoned mining town but sadly, like most things that should be just left alone, this has been turned into a gaudy pastiche of what an old mining town might look like in the mind of some theme park proprietor. The old hotel is now a restaurant, the old post office a gift shop and the old drugstore is a pizza parlour. There are ice cream stands and juice bars, ATMs and restrooms. The main street has been tarmacked and there's a naff little train to take you round some fake mine entrances. Restoring it for posterity is one thing but turning it into a commercialised toy town is just tawdry and unnecessary. What would those old miners think if they could see their town now? They'd probably be given name badges and be employed as greeters.

San Bernardino could be described as a modern day wild west town. It is on the very periphery of the Los Angeles area and we chose to stop there for a couple of nights so we could pack up our bags and clean the van, ready to return it to the rental company. We didn't really do any research on what sort of area it was but, to give you an idea, the RV park owner commended our bravery and said that at least we'd arrived in daylight. Then one of the permanent residents on the RV park came over to ask us, with a confused look on his face, "Why the hell would you come to San Bernardino?!" He explained that he was saving up enough money so that he could get "the hell out of here". The final clincher was the poster on a nearby telegraph pole pleading for witnesses to a murder. We mostly stayed within the confines of the gated campsite.

So that was the last time we stayed in the RV. We took it back to the rental company, cleaner than it was when we'd received it, though with a lot more gaffer tape around the roof area. We ended up having to pay $100 for the damage we'd caused to the skylight, which seemed quite reasonable and we made a swift exit before they could examine it further. It was a sad end to our road trip – but then we realised we still had a week left in LA before our flight home. A week's holiday in Los Angeles? Oh, go on then, if we must!

BURGER OF THE WEEK
As we were back in Vegas I was able to visit the Grand Lux Café at The Venetian and sample their Max Burger. A 10oz certified Angus beef burger topped with cheddar cheese, crisp bacon, mushrooms, onions and – here's the good bit – a roasted short rib (with the bone removed obviously). This was one of the most succulent and delicious burgers I've ever had the good fortune of wrapping my mouth around and the added meatiness of the rib was a stroke of genius. Definitely my favourite so far!