Posted on Wednesday, 5 November 2014

My girlfriend's Aunt Sally was a robust, energetic and above all, well-off lady. She had welcomed us with open arms and showed us American hospitality at its best – even though she had only lived in the USA for eight years and her English accent was still very much present.

She gave us a real taste of LA, from an adrenaline pumping day at Six Flags Magic Mountain amusement park to Venice Beach and the Hollywood sign – all by way of her shiny red Chevrolet.

logoboom/Bigstock.com

By the time we had to return to New York for our UK-bound plane, we had sampled some of the best restaurants, theme parks and shopping malls in the world. And even though Aunt Sally paid for a lot of things, we felt it necessary to pay our way – at least some of the time.

We insisted.

The only drawback to this was that our travel funds had dwindled a great deal. So instead of flying back to New York to catch our connecting flight to London, we decided, after doing some research on the Internet, to buy ourselves seven day unlimited-travel Greyhound bus tickets – and see the country in the process.

When we told Aunt Sally that we intended to cross the USA on the Greyhound she looked at us as if we had gone insane.

It was a long way, she said. And it wasn't the safest way to travel.

But we assured her that we wanted to see "the real America" and that the Greyhound was a great way to do that. We didn't mention our sticky financial predicament, even though she would have bought us flights back to the Big Apple in a heartbeat. But we wouldn't have felt comfortable doing that.

After a few protestations she finally agreed, saying that it might indeed be a good way of getting a "fuller picture" of what the USA was like.

And so we packed up and she took us down to the pokey LA bus station and waited while we bought our unlimited seven day tickets. She gave us each a big hug and waved us off.

The bus wasn't the most modern, but it was comfortable enough.

We enjoyed passing through the vast, sunny suburbs of Los Angeles, stopping off at San Bernadino, before moving on to Barstow – a place I remember from the classic novel Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas by Hunter S. Thompson.

The Nevada Desert was a real highlight of our trip. Endless green cacti peppered the golden desert rocks, their strange arms upright in praise of the cobalt blue sky.

It was around this time that the bus driver came on the speaker system and pointed out a tiny white cloud against an otherwise empty sky. I wondered if a National Express driver back home would do such a thing!

We stopped in the gambling mecca that is Las Vegas and booked into a Holiday Inn; the only accommodation within our price range. Since we didn't have much money, we just enjoyed walking up and down The Strip, taking in the coloured lights and popping a few quarters in the slot machines. Dinner was a trip to a Burger King hidden deep inside one of the casinos, with all the clanking, beeping one-arm bandits and transfixed gamblers.

Overall, we were impressed, but couldn't help thinking that Las Vegas was like an overgrown Blackpool!

However, we didn't have the funds to properly enjoy the main activity – gambling – and so vowed to return to the city one day and try our luck at poker, roulette or blackjack.

Las Vegas Strip (Andy777/Bigstock.com)

The next day we were on the bus again, heading further east.

It was hard to sleep on the Greyhound seats and we were a little grumpy when we woke. But our mood lifted when we peered out of the steamy windows to see a snow-covered Colorado. Stunning mountain ranges and dense forest went on for miles.

truelight/Bigstock.com

Later, our new bus driver pointed out Oprah Winfrey's mountain-top home as we headed towards Denver, where we had to change buses.

As we continued, stopping off at towns of all sizes, we met some interesting people. There was the man from Salt Lake City who wouldn't stop talking, the man from Philadelphia who had served time for an unspecified misdemeanour, as well as a transsexual lady from Nebraska whose legs were far too long for a Greyhound coach. All were very friendly and very open about their lives – sometimes a bit too open!

When we finally reached New York we were glad to check into a comfortable (yet affordable) hotel for the evening – three days and nights on the Greyhound really takes it out of you.

But we were glad we did it. Most visitors stay in the tourist hot spots or travel by air or car. The Greyhound gave us a real insight into what normal Americans' lives were like – at least a bit.

As we boarded the JFK-bound subway with our luggage we both agreed that our trip to the USA had been a great success – not least because of the trusty old Greyhound network.

It wouldn't be long before we returned, we were sure!

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