This is the 333rd blog post of Bourne's Big Trip. A pretty cool number, isn't it? Let's get to 444.
California, where movie actors, Disney Land, and giant trees that are brown but are called redwoods dwell! The California from my dreams, day and night, from those days of boredom where I imagined being a director, in my seat, on the screen, and into people's hearts and lunch boxes. The California, known for it's bushy haired surfers, strict liberal laws, and where you can buy drugs and not get arrested! Such a fanatical and unique place!!
Mark Twain mined there, Jack London wrote there, Full House was made there (among almost every other movie or T.V. show in the U.S. in the U.S.) and Britney Spears became a monk with no hair there. California, where cartoons and Disney movies are turned into a reality, and where people are young, easygoing, or really harsh on protecting the environment. California is a place of mystery, dreams, and wonderfulness, where everyone plans on going or has gone, even to foreigners. It's the movie capitol of the world, the surfing capitol of the world, the liberal capitol of the world, and the state stretches almost the entire coastline of the Pacific Ocean! It is in truth a wonderful place to live and an even more great place to visit. And this blog post is about us driving there.
There is nothing rather important to report of the morning. Rebecca sacked up her rocks into coffee cylinders, Folger's cups, and shoeboxes (quite an inventive girl) while we all got ready on our limited supply of water. Chris put the glass on brand new and Dad paid him in full as we then got all the sides in. This would be our ride to get out of Quartzite!! Finally! Not to sound mean, but the majority (3 of 4) of us did not actually like the small rock-nut town. As I blogged, we settled out of the town in a heap of dust. We got on a highway, direct for Palm Springs...well actually, a call from Indio fairly close to it. Same thing, anyway. Why were we going there besides to see the town? Well, a handyman named Brian who had come to our R.V. and fixed it up in Roswell was working at the R.V. park and fixing rigs, as they called the motorhomes. Upon the trip, we have owed it to Brian to help us with the T.V, engine, and all different sources of stuff. We called him up, and he was ready to help on the line. Thank you so much Brian! Without you the trip would've been impossible. Yeah seriously. We could've never counted on Spencer for what you do. He says he's handy with tools but you just know he's trying to impress the girls. Oh Spencer.
After brown mountain, sagebrush, shrub, dirt, rock, sudden change on the highway as we enter my favorite state ever. Commercial gas stations, all kinds of chain and corporate restaurants, and regular town area. We were closer to Indio. A post office, car wash, hotels, we were at civilization again! And then, palm trees! Huge ones dotting the sides of the large street, in between a grass area that was long and large. Nice old cars driven by old men. We were now here!! California was the thing I was most excited about at the beginning of the trip, besides NYC and Mount Rushmore and a few other things. It was a dream to get there. On the last day of Feburary, we got ready to get there, itching along a town in California, the state of fruits and nuts. Now we were along a nice sandstone rock wall, like at the Phoenician, with brown brick and all these red and purple flowers around, stretching all across the road with some sprinklers hosing their water as if to impress a girl. The other side was just the same, but not with the shining gold sign of Motorcoach R.V. park, but with something else. No gate, surprisingly, just green vine along the wall as we entered. And then, what a lawn! What a property! What a park!
There was a break in the beige wall, the vines stopping at this point, and several grassy areas with little circular glass tables, purple and yellow flowers, of all different times. This was like the Phoenician, but this time we're staying here! I looked up at the massive trunks of the palm trees, the little spiky area at the top, and the wooden shavings coming off like slides on the top and bottom. And then the Jurassic looking leaves, the greenness with the long leaves, sticking out on either side... aw, the California favorite, a palm tree. All around were these things, after all, the place of destination was Palm Springs. There was black asphalt on either side of the grassy area in between the driveway. Asphalt again! No gravel or dirt we had had at Quartzsite! On our right, was a small sandstone brick adobe building, with red tile slates on the roof. There was a crosspatch wooden roof thingy, with air in parts of it, and also a brick terrace or porch with umbrellas and more of those glass little circle tables. This was the office or Registration place. A big parking lot was on the right. We parked the R.V. straight looking at the entrance I will describe later. So far I was really impressed with Motorcoach R.V. Resort, which at first I thought was Country Coach because of all the country coach R.V's around. We entered through a door around on the right side with a few parking places.
There was a nice marble floor and pictures on the wall. On the way over we had talked about being in CA, what to do here, and how many days we were staying there, stuff like that. They had a lot of cool stuff to do in Palm Springs area, a big national park called Joshua or something, and strawberries as big as a tennis ball. Dad had told me that earlier form his travels in Southern Cali. I knew, I just knew, that I would love this campground a lot and have a lot of stuff to do and have a wonderful time.
As the office showed me, it was NOT a CAMPground. Leather couches, expensive rare furniture and wooden coffee tables, and white walls filled with glorious paintings. There were doors, white, that went into executive offices, and a hallway when you go to this side of the room which leads to nice state-of-the-art bathrooms. The collection of tourist like brochures seemed out of place. On the left was a long counter with desks and computers and phones behind it, hidden from view of the customers until you actually peak over. A T.V. screen flashed HD security footage of areas, and pictures of all the stuff. This wasn't any campground store in a KOA that smelt of cat pee, this was a Registration Office and Information Desk, very proper and formal words that no one would even dare pronounce. I wondered what we looked like, sweat pants, jacket, helmet hair because of no water at Quartzite, and looking at the ladies in grey jackets and pants, with high heels and a lot of makeup. A nice blonde lady sized us up before asking about all the reservation stuff, which we did. You have to at that kind of place. This wasn't an R.V. PARK. This was an R.V. RESORT! After going through the process of map, where to go to and park, around the gate to the left and down that vertical way, and then turn right, she told us about touristy kind of things.
Walking over to the brochures she got one about a waterpark, and a few about this festival they have once a month, on a Saturday, this Saturday. It has produce and events, music and shops, and giant strawberries. I would get to see the famed fruit, on Saturday. She gave us two of them, one that was a lot bigger and farther away though. Thanking her, we then got back to the R.V. You think so far the place is pretty high class? You just read on, friend, and prepare for your jaw to be dropped. It gets better.
The gate was huge, beige, and metal. The olive trees on our right provided shade to some readers beneath the wide oaks. There was a man in a little gatehouse, you know the little square box with the yellow barriers that go up and let cars and stuff in? He took our pass the lady had given us and pressed a button in his compartment to let it open. He had a blue and white uniform on with a pilot's hat. The barrier went up and the gates slid back on both sides. He got in a little golf cart and would lead us on to the left. Oh, and then the clubhouse!!!! There was a large water fountain spewing up gushing trinkles of silver water!! It was on either side, in a line, one bigger than the last, arcs going up to embrace the air. The water was an acrobat! Oh, and that's not all. Dotting the sides was bright green grass as green as a sick kid who was a tree in a play and wanted to participate even though of his state. A lot of flowers too. And that wasn't all, there was something else, a vast hill going up, and some grass on either side again, and then spinning on both sides, a driveway. In front of a shaded drive up area was a statue of two rams hitting each other with their horns. The large beige brick building had some columns holding up the little roof over the porch. On one side I saw was a path and tennis court thing. What a place this was!
We slowly moved along in the R.V., as we followed the man in the cart. Along our left as we turned was the same brick rock wall thing, as we would see for a lot later. We turned and went along a very long stretch of road, and on our right was long rows of R.V.'s on either side and palm trees, grass, and nice cement pads. I will describe that in full later. We continued on, and turned right again to now be on the final one. There was a little gate to some maintenance stuff, and a sign telling your speed, which was required to be very low. Turning right, we got to the row which had our site on it. This also had the pool building, the little one that wasn't the nice one at the clubhouse. So many nice R.V.'s dotting the lines! NO Fifth Wheels like at Quartzsite, Class A's and Country Coach's and Prevosts, the nicest of the nicest of motorhomes. Wow.
We went around an area that had a round a bout turn, green grass and many nice sites.
We were now on our street. There was a building, gold and ever brick like all the rest of them, that had a square top in the middle, rising over two identical stuff like it. As Mom got in the jeep to lessen the length and stress the vehicle imposed, Dad and I marveled at this resort. The building was supposed to be a card room, lounge, and several other things reserved for only the members of Motorcoach R.V. Resort. Everything else, the bathrooms on the ground level, the pool and laundry, was applied at the very disposal of the guests. Mom parked right by this building, in a little lot. I passed people who had hot tubs and giant areas, which I will again describe later. However, in here there was less than before, probably because this area was more of the place where they had the sites of the guests, not the people who owned or rented their lot. So, our site was 67, and Dad told me to look out for it as I sat in the front seat, still rubbing my eyes from all the times I had thought I was sleeping. It was on the left side of it facing the grass hedge, with a little grass area. It had a concrete pad, and little area of asphalt, beige with a small table and umbrella, that was for relaxing. Dad parked in there, backing in. We would enjoy this place.
Mom told me, as she parked the jeep in a little parking area across the row on the right of the building, to walk the dogs with Rebecca. Instead of walking around which we could've very well done, we simply let them roll around in the grass and chill, after they had gone to the restroom. Man did they love the grass. In Quartzite and even Phoenix, they hadn't seen little or any bright green and perfect grass, the little shreds looking up at the sky. They rolled around and chased each other. We felt okay at having their leashes off, so long as if they just stayed in the grass area behind the motorhome and to the left a little and stayed in our view at all times. There was a bush like tree thingy on the left wall, which we thought was pretty. Flowers, purple and of florescent colors, dotted the signs. We looked at the green vines sticking out, sickly and having darker tree branch color on their stems. But the grass, how good to just play in it, and feel the rush and tickle of the leaves on your palm, and smell the earthly fragrance as if it is new. So peaceful. The sky was of a perfect blue color, and the sun rays touched mild, yet breezy, and yet warm on our skin. California was a place of the most relaxing climate, we saw right then.
Mom helped Dad with the sides and the electrical pole, on the right side. What to do for us two? Go inside and blog or read? I didn't feel that good again, my head kind of hurt from the ride, and I could read a Redwall book(series about animals in Britain fighting each other) Mossflower, that the kindly Mrs. Powell had given to me, along many other books, in December. I had finished Alex Rider the day before. I needed an easy book after reading the long and lengthy and complex book that A Tramp Abroad was. Should I do that? Nope, that wasn't Rebecca's game. She wanted to do some catch with the football. Okay, fine, I guess we'll do that. I need the exercise probably anyhow. Let's relive the scene. Rebecca rushes and rattles in the stifle motorhome that the dogs stick out their tongues and wagged their tails in, and then gets the brown oval leather ball. She opens the black flat door handle everyone hates and jumps onto the concrete. Brushing her feet into the grass she says "Think fast" and hands me the ball. I catch it in both my hands and it slips out quickly, to be caught in the gut of me. We do that for a few minutes, and I also put my red hardback and small book, Mossflower, on the rock right wall. It was fun to just run around and play catch, back and forth.
Rebecca and I argued a bit though. We got into the habit of insulting each other's playing, which was a pretty sorry game. I tried to teach her that you won't supposed to throw a football underhand like you would throw a bowling ball, that I couldn't catch it there. We continued to play for a few minutes though. Falling back, hitting over, yelling, but still having fun. At one point a latino looking man came with a chainsaw. We thought he was getting ready to murder us. It wasn't the case. He simply was cutting the hedge a little, getting the leaves and trees a little trimmed. He didn't even talk to us; maybe he couldn't speak english. Over the next few days we would have a lot of workermen invading our space. They would sometimes even utilize the large space of entry and come in on golf carts! Pretty crazy. Well, we got bored with playing catch. Rebecca went inside to show me something she had gotten at Gem World, called a Zinger. She took them out of the black box and then showed me the metal silver balls that were all connected. You throw two, in separate hands, into the air, and then they attach by them being magnets. In the process they make a "zing!" sound. It's really cool. They're like little bombs.
I went to get Dad a drink as he told me to do so. Rebecca went by him. I came back, and he was talking to a blonde skinny man with cut army style hair and blue eyes in a truck, the back opened and seemingly having no door. A white hair bearded man with a cap was with him. Who were these guys? Had they just stopped by and Dad was talking to them? I shook hands with Brian and Steve, Brain the Blonde and Steve the muscular and bearded. It was actually only until way later that I realized that this was THE Brian, who had helped us out with all the problems. That's funny. I must of not made the connection. I had thought Brian was brown haired, even though at one point I had met the man, in Roswell before the trip. That was actually the whole reason we were really staying at that R.V. resort in Palm Springs, so that Brian and Steve, handy men of greatness, would tune up our R.V. Dad gave them a list on his iPad he made me get, and I passed by Mom who asked what was going on as she sat in the air conditioning. I stayed inside after hearing Dad tell a story, about when even in a tornado they had made 1st and second class, one area with a couch and T.V. and fridge, and one with a full class bar and plush wonderful seating. That's pretty harsh. When there's a storm a coming different people should be at least able to stay in the same area of others that are hire in the job scale. I mean, come on.
I read inside a little, about Redwall characters and a mouse in the snow named Martin who gets captured by some wildcats in their castle. I love the writing and everything else about that book, how descriptive it is, all that. That day was a day in the breeze. In other words, we felt so good and so happy about being here at the R.V. resort. I mean, this was amazingly luxurious and we were a couple of people in public school from Georgia, so all this Cali high class was brand new to us. The palm trees had been in so many movies, the tan men with the bushy hair(we didn't see any; I guess their on more of the coast) and all the nice motorhomes. This was surely one of the nicest of the R.V. Resorts, besides one in Michigan and a few others. We would have a wonderful time here, relaxing and letting Brian and his buddy do some work on his motorhome.
Later, Rebecca convinced Dad and Mom to take us to the pool across the row. We didn't have time to go walking around the park which was suggested by Mom. Taking all our goggles and towels and feeling exciting to go pooling as it was Feb. and the last time we had swam was Jan. We entered a door between two other doors to the restroom,and then walked through an open air door entrance with rock on either sides. The laundry room was to our right. We came to the little pool, after looking at the staircases that go to the member's accommodations, and also the card room. The pool had a gate which surrounded it, and a hot tub to the right. We entered the area, with the clear water and the little stairs, also on the right,leading to the seemingly hot water. Dad had told me about a story about a man, old, who had been left by his friends at the hot tub, and then fell asleep. He died. So I never liked getting into hot tubs, and don't really that often. I've probably in them like three times in my life, on a bet. I stay in there for a second or two, and then swim in the real pool. But anyway, we got into the area with the laid back chairs and table, and then looked past the gate. There was water, and green grass, and really small docks with speedboats. The R.V. park, miles from any ocean or lake, was a lagoon! A very twisty and pretty one too, with people just riding along. How better could this place get?
Mom and Dad were on the chairs. I jumped in first, and then Rebecca followed. We played faces underwater, swam too and fro, taking in the crisp clear cold water, that was refreshing as staying in all day and then coming outside in front of nature. The water over your goggles, making blurs in the pupils, the digging into the PH7 and the brief intake of H20 into your nostrils, all priceless. The delicate wave on your hair, the wetting of the hair, and then the raise up when you shake your bushy bangs like a surfer from Cali...all cherished and loved but yet repeated so many times that they have lost their charm and newness. However, when those feelings come over you and you drift through the hard water down to the bottom, and then lift off like a rocket, you know that that is why the pool was created, for that very moment, that very uplift, and that very pure joy of being alive and underwater. The floating on the back, gasping air and looking at the sun's rays, as you do a butterfly formation and kick your feet at the chlorine water, taking a relax after your fish like swimming. Your a fish without gills, reader, when you take in all that refreshment, and that's what we felt like on that day, as we dipped in the water.
I looked at a balcony on the second floor. What was up there?
Boredom eventually came. Rebecca decided to go get some toys, so, she dried off and went to go get them. Later she came with a box full of barbies and rescue heroes. Over the stay at Motor Coach we would have many opportunities to just play. They had swimming competitions, with the master surfer who I gave to Puck (Rebecca's nick-name) at Christmas who she named Andrew in the lead. The kids got on flip flops that we had and relaxed, while two doctors stayed in the underwater apartment arguing. Fights, frights, and funny scenes with Swiss Scifer being afraid of the water were all part of the equation. It was fun to splash around with the toys. Although, an old man who had a beer-belly and had white hair, sat at the stairs and then did mini laps in the small pool. We had to worry about moving the toys away from him, and they were scared of the large giant that tried to enrage them. Mom talked to the man, who looked at my brave's hat and asked if I liked baseball from Atlanta. Thereafter started a LOOONNNGG conversation about baseball. The man, who introduced himself as Pete, had a site that he owned in the R.V. resort, told us his site, and offered to show it to us at some point. We thanked him as a lady in a weird golf cart came with a golden retriever. This was Donna, his wife, who said hello to us before speeding off again. Pete later left.
Well, going into the hot tub briefly, we did a guessing game of people we knew. It worked like this, you gave a few hints about the person, and then the other player tries to guess all these people. It was fun because it brought back memories and the personalities of the people that we miss very dearly. School friends, teachers, family, outer family, and old friends. Even mentors and just weird cool people around Roswell was thrown into the mix. We all just want you to know that we miss you more than people in NYC miss a taxi cab. And it will be wonderful to see you in the coming months of summer once we come back from our one year excursion. Until then, we miss you.
Back to the blog.
It was time to go, so we dried off and took all the toys up in a box after we had done a scene of two jealous brothers fighting over a girl, the doctors. We left one toy, a barbie named Stacy, in the box thingy on the side with the top over it.... you probably don't know what I'm talking about. I'm bad at describing things anyway. So, we put the toys outside on the grass, by some chairs and a coffee table which was on our left side and pretty far back by the lawn. It was a very good day, although we didn't do anything too awesome or tourist like. It was relaxing, luxurious, and cool to play around a little and go to the pool. We took showers and then got into dry clothes. We also went on a little walk around the place. But, I'll describe a little what it's like later in the next blog post.
Wait til you read it.
Paradise was found on the last day of Feb,
Andrew.
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