http://betweentwooceans.com/ en malarkey@malarkey.co.uk Copyright 2008 2008-07-28T21:15:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/happy_cog/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/happy_cog/#When:21:15:00Z As I work mainly alone from my studio at home, it's always fun to see how my friends, who work from offices, have their spaces set up.After we had packed our bags for the last time and left them at the hotel’s luggage locker, I left Sue and Alex to their own nefarious purposes for a few hours and hopped in a cab downtown to visit my friends Jeffrey and Jason at their new Happy Cog offices on swanky Fifth Avenue. The cab driver over-shot a little, but it was a lovely walk for a few blocks north through Madison Square Park. Happy Cog now share office space with spectacular and inspiring views. Looking between Jeffrey’s and Jason’s iMacs you can just make out the East River across the rooftops of lower buildings, some of which have their own rooftop garden oases. From their shared meeting room you can even look up at the top of the Empire State Building. Jeffrey showed me around, including a peek into their half of the library that looks to be mostly full of translations of Jeffrey’s book, Designing With Web Standards. Jason’s books are (apparently) still at home and there is a couple of feet of empty shelf space waiting for him to fill it. I hijacked their wifi for a short while, posed for a picture and then Jeffrey, Rob and I walked a few blocks for a Thai lunch. It was a shame that Jason was too bloody miserable busy with work to join us, but I’ll be seeing him and Jeffrey again, God willing, in Chicago in October. Knowing that we’d soon be needing to make our way to John F. Kennedy International Airport for our 6:05pm flight to Manchester, I reluctantly hugged Jeffrey goodbye (and shook Rob’s hand in a manly way as he had kindly paid for lunch), then took the fifteen minute cab ride uptown to our hotel. Before long, we were all collected and so were our bags and we were in a cab again towards the airport and our overnight flight home. This part of our journey in New York City has not been one of our most favourite parts of traveling between two oceans. Manhattan is crowded, hot and noisy with tourists at this time of year, but it was made a special ending to our trip because of our friends who live there. Thanks to Jeffrey, Carrie, Ava, Rob and Jason, you made New York City the perfect ending to the perfect journey. New York City 2008-07-28T21:15:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/chili_cheese_dogs/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/chili_cheese_dogs/#When:20:16:00Z Sunday was both our last full day in New York City and the last full day of our journey between two oceans. We had started our journey over a month ago on the Pacific Ocean at San Francisco's Ocean Beach, so it was time for us to head the few miles south-east of Manhattan, through Brooklyn to (where else?) Coney Island on the Atlantic Ocean.Our bodies were still on Central, or maybe even Mountain Time, so we didn’t make the earliest of starts. But around 10:30am we made our way to a breakfast of coffee, fruit and pastries at the nearby Au Bon Pain and then bought three four dollar Metro subway tickets for the ride on the D-train south to Coney Island. Traveling though Brooklyn, it was interesting to see a part of New York that I haven’t been through before except on the highway to and from John F. Kennedy International Airport. Brooklyn has a different look and feel to Manhattan, a little run down but with a wonderfully eclectic mix of urban architecture. I’m not sure how or why it happens but on subway trains I always seem to end up sitting near someone who is a few crumbs short of a bagel. Our carriage was virtually empty, but that didn’t stop the singing old lady from choosing the closest seat to us. She was, I’m sure, perfectly harmless, but she did make us feel a little uncomfortable, so under the premise of needing to scrutinize the subway map, we moved to the other end of the carriage and left the lady singing to herself. The weather report that morning had warned of thunder storms, but the skies stayed clear for a while as we walked the short distance to the beach for our Between Two Oceans ceremony. Alex drew a line in the sand a few feet from the waves and just as we had done in San Francisco, we all jumped across it to mark our journey’s furthest point east. We’d been carrying a small. plastic bag of sand with us all the way and Alex took out a scoop of Pacific sand and made a small pile. We watched as the Atlantic claimed it and our trip seemed really to be over. Coney Island is a faded, but still charming resort. Despite the impending storm and some nasty looking rip tide currents, some people were braving the water while others were lathering on the sun cream and stretching out on the sand in-between what looked to be about a million wire rubbish bins. I have never been on a beach where there are so many rubbish bins, but despite their number they didn’t seem to have succeeded very well in stopping people from littering the beach. We walked back across the beach to the boardwalk and towards the Coney Island rides. I’m not a huge roller-coaster thrill-seeker and the antique wooden coaster wasn’t going to tempt me to ride its curves, so we opted instead for a gentler ride on the Wonder Wheel so that we could get a better view of Coney Island from higher up. The Wonder Wheel has two types of cars, one that stays fixed as you go twice around and another that rocks. We chose the fixed type and from the top of the wheel there is a great view of the ocean in one direction and Brooklyn across to Manhattan via the Brooklyn Bridge in the other. No trip to Coney Island would be complete without eating hotdogs. We waited in line at Nathan’s, home of the World Hot Dog Eating Championships and just off the boardwalk and ordered regular dogs with onions, a chili cheese dog and a corn dog to dip in ketchup. We sat and ate them while the weather took a turn for the worse and the thunder rumbled. Having no desire to get wet we walked back across the street to Stilson Avenue subway station and caught the next D-train back to the city. This time our singing lady companion wasn’t joining us. With our last day almost over, we talked a lot about what our journey between two oceans had meant to us all and we all decided that it wasn’t the destinations, so much as the getting there that had been important. I think that there are huge lessons for life in there too. So many times I’ve lived humdrum days in the hope of achieving something at the end of that week, month or year. But I had forgotten that it is perhaps even more important to enjoy the days themselves and not let them pass me by in a blur. Perhaps I might not even get where I set out to go, but if I make sure that I enjoy every day along the way then the journey, just like this one, will have been well worth it. New York City 2008-07-27T20:16:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/independent_woman/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/independent_woman/#When:20:03:00Z Compared to the quiet wildernesses that we'd come to love, Manhattan was noisy beyond belief. Sitting on low wall outside the Hilton hotel on Sixth Avenue, I could hear every type of noise that I can imagine, including I'm told, a Space-hopper. In contrast, our room on the 31st floor was an oasis, with only the low hum of the air-conditioning unit to break the silence.After four weeks on the road, we had been looking forward to running a big, deep, bubbly bath and soaking in it until the water went cold. Unfortunately neither of our rooms came with a bath-tub and although the hotel did agree to move us to a room with a tub, we were in no mood to move again and decided to stay put. This was my fifth visit to this city and as we’ve all seen most of the tourist spots on previous trips, we had no inclination to visit Liberty Island, the Empire State Building or New York’s other main attractions again. Instead, after breakfast we took the D-train downtown to Soho and headed first to Prince Street, home of New York’s latest and biggest Apple Store. We weren’t in a buying mood, but while Alex soaked up Apple’s bandwidth collecting his email, I checked in on work and watched the swarm of people buzzing around the dozen iPhone 3Gs on display. I was amazed that even several weeks after the iPhone 3G’s release, handling one of these new miracles still involves standing in line for several hours before being allowed inside the roped off iPhone temple. Several doors around the corner from Apple’s Soho flagship was Paul Smith‘s New York emporium. There was a sale on, but with our suitcases and my personal credit card already bursting at their seams, I think that both were slightly relieved when I left Paul Smith empty-handed. The weather in New York was very warm and humid and our feet were already starting to complain about carrying our weight before we reached Greenwich Village. It had seemed like a good idea to spend the afternoon at the cinema, taking in the latest Batman movie, but with all the showings sold out until later in the day, instead we ate lunch in Max Brenner and then caught the (wrong) subway back uptown, getting off near Bloomingdale’s. From there we walked back towards Central Park and sat on the grass under the trees for a while to cool off, before braving the crowds at the Fifth Avenue Apple Store. This time I was in a buying mood and picked up a 1Tb Time Capsule, a 160Gb iPod (my first black iPod) and a Snowball USB microphone. As we walked across the street, back towards our hotel, a group of break-dancers were about to start their street performance. So we leaned against a tree and watched them perform their moves for a while. As we stood, my US cellphone buzzed in my pocket and Jeffrey was calling with the time and address of our dinner date. We had only forty-five minutes until we were were due to meet and as I had an Apple bag of goodies and no money left, we needed to quickly walk the three blocks back to our hotel, drop stuff, pick up cash and head downtown in a cab to Penelope’s on 30th and Lexington Avenue. It was a lovely evening of great food and conversation with Jeffrey, Carrie and Ava who is becoming a wonderful personality all her own. She had us in stitches while she licked bright blue icing off a cupcake and told us how she’s going to be an independent woman. As the evening was a little cooler for walking around the city, we decided to walk back to our hotel, past Grand Central Station and up on Broadway through Times Square. It was a good opportunity to try to capture the bright lights of Broadway on camera, but the heaving, hot masses of tourists were a little off-putting. Before long we had strolled the last few blocks and were soon heads-down on our fluffy Hilton pillows. New York City 2008-07-26T20:03:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/goodbye_tumbleweed_video/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/goodbye_tumbleweed_video/#When:23:16:01Z Saying a very fond goodbye to our tumbleweed. It was a pleasure knowing you and were a good traveling companion. Now it's time for you to tumble. Transcript We've here in Minneapolis, Minnesota at our last campground and it's time to say a very fond goodbye to our tumbleweed that we picked up all the way at our first campground in Phoenix, Arizona. So goodbye tumbleweed, it's been a pleasure knowing you and you've been a good traveling companion, but now it's time for you to tumble. (Blow) Goodbye tumbleweed. Minneapolis 2008-07-25T23:16:01+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/miles_3179/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/miles_3179/#When:22:05:00Z Of course we knew that it was inevitable, but we didn't know how hard the parting would be. This morning it was time for us to say a fond farewell to our rented RV. He's been home for the last four(ish) weeks and I know that I'm going to miss him, the almost daily ritual of arriving at a new campground in a new place and attending to his power and water needs, and also of being constantly on the move.As we needed to make an early start to deliver him to his, no doubt temporary, new home in Saint Paul near Minneapolis, we had set our John Wayne alarm clock for seven o’clock. The Duke didn’t let us down and by half past we were back on the road. The storm that we had been warned about hadn’t appeared, but our last night was not the best for sleeping. Maybe I was had the end of our journey on my my mind? The air was warm and very still, so in the wee small hours I gave up my place on the coach-bed and moved to the floor in the RV’s kitchen area. This was close to the open door and occasionally a soft breeze would blow through, making breathing and sleeping a little easier. For our short hop to St. Paul and my final spot behind the wheel, the traffic around Minneapolis stayed light although the promised rain did make a short appearance. It’s funny how it always seems to rain on the final day of a holiday, almost as if that is a signal that we are on our way home. The Cruise America rental office was not hard to find, and with little fuss, we handed back our set of keys, completed the return paperwork and calculated how many miles we’ve covered. We’d driven our mobile home for over 3179 miles. I’ve been really surprised how much I’ve enjoyed this part of the journey. I’ve learned to love living and traveling in a motor-home and it’s going to be hard to leave it behind. We took a short, fifteen minute taxi ride to Minneapolis St. Paul International Airport and arrived in plenty of time for coffee and a wander around the shops. Our plane was on-time from gate F14 and despite the best efforts of three shouting, screaming toddlers sitting three rows behind us, I was asleep in my seat before our North West flight made it into the air on our way to New York City. Minneapolis 2008-07-25T22:05:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/dedication/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/dedication/#When:22:00:00Z I dedicate this post to our faithful RV, you were our home for several weeks and while it may have been a little hard to sleep properly in you that was mostly because of the weather.When we first picked up our RV in Phoenix I remember wondering not only about what the RV itself would be like but also what spending all that time in a small space with my parents would be like.  The first few days were a bit scary and I made a habit of staying quiet on small roads and at junctions but as the days went by Dad must have got better at driving because we started to really enjoy it.  My bed above the cab was a welcome retreat and I spent a lot of time there drawing and emailing my girlfriend. The cooking facilities were not the best in the world although we (Mum) managed and we didn’t have to put up with hot bread instead of toast for long.  It wasn’t overly easy finding food that I can eat but due to the wonders of The Whole Food Stores I managed not to starve.  The cupboards could have been larger but we managed to fit everything in and even the fridge held most of what needed to be kept cool, the rest went in an ice box in the shower. I think I may even miss the famous poopy pipe, not because of what he was was or what he did but because of what he symbolised:  The freedom to travel. So long RV, you’ve been a perfect companion on our journey Between Two Oceans.  Minneapolis 2008-07-25T22:00:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/learning_to_love_the_poopy_pipe_video/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/learning_to_love_the_poopy_pipe_video/#When:03:54:00Z One of my new found joys, the kind that you can only discover while on an RV holiday, is the (almost) daily ritual of connecting the RV's poopy pipe and emptying the van's accumulated black water (poopy and pee-pee) and grey, washing up water. I love this job so very much that I couldn't resist sharing it. This episode is brought to you by Maximum Waste Digester Transcript to follow Minneapolis 2008-07-25T03:54:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/storm_shelter/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/storm_shelter/#When:20:27:00Z We arrived at our campground just south of Minneapolis today, for our last night in our RV. Pat, the helpful lady on reception checked us in, told me where the showers and laundry were to be found, plus another vital piece of information (apparently). The location of the underground storm shelter.As we’re in Scott County, Minnesota, there is a good chance that at this time of year we may encounter a big storm. The kind that has big rain, big wind and big thunder too. We’ll thankfully know when a storm is coming by the sirens sounding. Then we can drop everything and head for the shelter, no doubt to cuddle up closely with our fellow campers until (presumably) the all clear notice is given. We’ve not had to take on-board such advice anywhere else on this trip and personally I’m hoping that if the siren does sound, it will be well after we’re in the air on our way to New York City tomorrow.  Minneapolis 2008-07-24T20:27:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/little_house_on_the_prairie/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/little_house_on_the_prairie/#When:19:42:00Z I think that I have reached an age where I can finally admit the awful truth. Gulp, here goes. When I was a kid, I really enjoyed watching Little House on the Prairie. There, I said it.Of course I could never have admitted that at the time, for fear of all the other kids in school calling me a big poof. But if there was a chance that I could sneak a viewing on a late Sunday morning I would. Now I know that these stories should have been a little sickly sweet for an early teen male who should have had testosterone pumping from every pore, but I like to show my feminine side too (ladies like that, so I hear). Oh the simple life in Walnut Grove, skipping home along the lane from school. OK, maybe I’ve gone too a little too far. (Deep, throat clearing noises) I watched the show as regularly as I could, but then something terrible happened. Mary Ingalls (the pretty, older daughter) went blind while I was away on a family holiday and I missed it. Somehow the show wasn’t the same after that, or perhaps Logan’s Run or The Incredible Hulk or Battlestar Galactica grabbed my attention, I can’t remember exactly. Years later when I was at art school and having my own rented flat, when Little House on the Prairie came around on another re-run, I watched it again. A guilty pleasure, but then something terrible happened.  Mary Ingalls (the pretty, older daughter) went blind while I was away on holiday and I missed it. And to this day I have never found out why or how this calamity happened. As I missed it both times, it might have even been my fault. How can I ever forgive myself. Why all this talk about Little House on the Prairie? Because today as we sped along Interstate 90 on the last short stretch east of Sioux Falls, we could have detoured north a little to De Smet, South Dakota, the real setting for Laura Ingalls Wilder‘ Little House on the Prairie books. If we had stopped, maybe I would have discovered the reason for poor Mary’s blindness, but we didn’t. Then knock me over with a covered wagon, we could also have moseyed north to Walnut Grove, Minnesota and paid a visit to the Laura Ingalls Wilder Museum too to shed even more light on the matter. Maybe some other time. Until then there is always re-runs, DVDs and Wikipedia. Minneapolis 2008-07-24T19:42:00+00:00 http://betweentwooceans.com/site/rocky_road/ http://betweentwooceans.com/site/rocky_road/#When:03:49:01Z With our plans for breakfast cereal by the Missouri River dashed by bad weather, I had the excuse I needed to splurge on fried eggs (up), homemade sausage patties and hash-browns at Al's Oasis in Oacoma, Chamberlain's twin city across one of the rusty, iron bridges that crosses the Missouri. The guidebook said that Al’s served unremarkable food, but it was big, came quickly and when my plateful had been washed down by two cups of five cent coffee, my stomach told me that the bad weather had done it a favour. Our next stop was Sioux Falls, several hours drive along Interstate 90 and across what had become largely featureless arable land. It’s strange, but the more that we saw the effects of humans on the landscape, the less interesting it became. Around halfway we detoured off the Interstate, by now reduced largely to a single lane bound by orange traffic cones, into Mitchell, South Dakota for more coffee and a short stop outside Mitchell’s Corn Palace. The Corn Palace has been famous since 1892 for annually being covered in corn. This alone seems to lure thousands of tourists like us off the interstate and into this otherwise unremarkable town. I watched several Amish men and women eating ice-cream (apparently Rocky Road is a particular favourite) while I drank my double-shot vanilla latte and then we headed back onto the interstate so that I could attempt to keep my (almost) unbroken record of only demolishing three traffic cones on our way to Sioux Falls. Tonight we’re at another functional, but otherwise charmless KOA campground (I refuse to spell campground with a k, no matter what their brand guidelines might state). Here we began to pack away our things in readiness for our last night in our RV tomorrow. I’m very sad thinking we’ll leave our home on wheels in two days and that our journey is coming to its end, but I have learned some huge lessons on this trip. First, that traffic cones have feelings too and its wrong to knock them. Second, that home is anywhere you choose it to be and with the people that you choose to share it with. We’ve read few of the books we brought along, played few of the games and watched hardly any of the movies that we loaded onto our firewire drive. We’ve worn few of the clothes that we packed and eaten most, but not all of the food we bought. What we did do is chatter, sing along to music and watch the world go by as we drove.  I could live my whole life like this. What else matters? Sioux Falls 2008-07-24T03:49:01+00:00