Santorini

When you think of Greece and never visited, you think of Santorini.  The stereotypical photograph of the white churches with the blue domed roofs, overlooking a turquoise sea; gleaming white houses perched on a cliffside in a maze of winding cobbled streets – you can guarantee that this was photographed in Ia – a picturesque town on the North West of the island famous for its dramatic sunsets.

There is much more to this beautiful island though.  It is rumoured to be the site of Atlantis, and in 1967 a prehistoric city was discovered in Akrotiti, destroyed by an earthquake thousands of years ago.  The layout is similar to that of the Atlantis described by Plato, which was also destroyed by an earthquake.  Whether you believe in the myth or the legend, the island has been inhabited for centuries, and whilst Akrotiti is closed to visitors, you can still visit Ancient Thira, perched on a rocky hillside with beautiful views of the Aegean, Kamari and Perissa.

My purpose in going to Greece was to have 2 weeks chilling out, and then 2 weeks island hopping, rounding off my crazy whirlwind tour of the world before heading back to reality.  I chose Zacharaki Studios in Kamari – near the pebbled ‘black beach’ – and just back from a long strip of shops, restaurants and bars, below the mountain that contains the ruins of Ancient Thira.  Within 2 days of hospitality from the lovely Zacharaki family, my gorgeous little studio with its view of the pool and beach, and making some friends at Navy Divers, I realized that I wasn’t going to leave.  In fact I could have bivouacked for good if I’d had the funds.  I didn’t, but for 3 glorious weeks Santorini was my home. 

There are so many places to stay on this slice of heaven, and I really lucked out.  Firstly, picking Kamari.  Unlike Fira, which is noisy and crowded and where you have to travel to find a decent beach, Kamari is small enough that after a week you know everyone, but large enough that there’s always a new restaurant to visit.  I walked up the mountain every day for exercise, up the winding road to the site of Ancient Thira and back down – an hour’s round trip.  You can also walk over the mountain and down the other side to Perissa, which is a good destination for those on a budget, with an excellent strip of funky bars and restaurants and a few resorts, and probably a good place to go if you are on your own.  Kamari IS full of couples it has to be said.  Luckily I had opted to go diving with Navy Divers – a Greek/Swedish run outfit that has some of the most warm-hearted people working on the island as staff.  They introduced me to a fantastic network of people - mainly reps - who live on the island as well.  Needless to say complete carnage ensued on a regular basis.  This kind of thing tends to happen when you are drinking frozen daquiris the size of your head.

Secondly, the family-run Zacharakis Studios was my home away from home – not least because the minute I met Vily I realized that she was a girl after my own heart.  She adopts street dogs, one of whom was a small long-haired dachshund cross called Lady, who despite being a bit shy and nervous around everyone else seemed to absolutely adore me.  It was mutual.  I had some fabulous conversations with Demetrius, Vily’s father, and also became good friends with her boyfriends, Vagilles.  I always felt like they were looking out for me – sometimes I would come back and there would be little tomatoes in the fridge, or Vily would surprise me with some figs.  No wonder that I decided to stay the extra week – it was just too hard to leave!

My days were spent by the pool or on the beach, evenings were spent looking for work in London and catching up on movies or TV that I’d downloaded.  I didn’t go out very much the first couple of weeks, instead I cooked my own dinners, eating olives, feta, the beautiful little locally grown tomatoes that the island is famous for, cucumber and goat’s cheese.  If I did go out, it was to meet the Navy Divers crew and their friends, all of whom were Scandinavian.  We’d start off at Ethnic for some live music at about 11pm, moving to Albatross at about 1am for some dancing.  I’d sleep in, have fruit, yoghurt and honey for breakfast… and then the day would start all over again.  I did the hike from Fira to Ia - 3 hours along the 'rim' of the caldera, stunning views to the left the whole way.  It's strenuous, hot, not for the faint-hearted, but you can go part of the way along the rim to Imerovigli which is only an hour.  It's well worth it.  As I traipsed up the second large hill I was completely on my own, views to the Aegean either side, contemplating I was walking the same path the ancient Greeks would have trodden for thousands of years before I was there.  It was a humbling thought.

I’d been eying up the quad bikes with the purpose renting one and exploring.  During my second week I met Julia, a beautiful girl from Stockholm who was also travelling on her own.  In the way that only women can, we formed a bond standing at the mirror in the ladies at Albatross.  By the next day she’d changed her ferry ticket and moved into a studio in Zacharakis and we’d sorted out a quad bike for a few days.  THIS is the way to see Santorini.  The wind blowing in your face, the sun on your back and shoulders, hooning round the little narrow streets and checking out the pretty villages and towns that are dotted all over the island, and swimming at all the different beaches.  

Out of everywhere on Santorini, Ia is the crowning jewel.  It is probably one of the prettiest places in the world.  It clings to the clifftop, white buildings and cobbled streets stretch away in a maze.  It’s famous for the blue domed churches that have graced the cover of any travel magazine worth its salt, and also famous for the sunset.  Seeing the sun go down in Ia is an experience in itself as hundreds of people perch on the site of the old fort and along the western-facing streets.  You almost have to get there 2 hours before to guarantee a good spot.  As the sun does what it does everyday, people snap away, applauding when it finally sinks below the horizon.  That the sun finally gets recognition for something it has done every day since the dawn of time is rather sweet.

I haven’t visited anywhere else in Greece, even though I know that I will be absolutely blown away by the other islands.  I hear that Santorini really is unique though, and for me Greece will always be defined by my time spent there – not only because of the raw beauty of the island itself, but because of the people I was lucky enough to meet.

http://www.tripadvisor.co.uk/Hotel_Review-g658914-d1784108-Reviews-Zacharakis_Studios-Kamari_Santorini_Cyclades.html

http://www.navyswaterworld.gr/

One of the largest and most well-known music festivals in the world if only for the fact that it becomes a rain-drenched mud-fest, Glastonbury is a 3 day event that has gotten bigger than Ben Hur.  It started 41 years ago when farmer Mike Eavis had been to the open air Bath festival and was inspired to hold a festival in his own fields.  It was attended by 1500 people, cost 1 pound entrance fee, and acts included Mark Bolan and Al Stewart.  It has grown exponentially since then, with 200,000 tickets being released for 2011.  Big name acts vie to play on the Pyramid (or main) stage, and this year the lineup was U2, Coldplay and Beyonce.  People start arriving on the Wednesday to get a decent camping spot.  Glastonbury is not about the music, it’s an experience as of itself.  The food, market stalls, circus, theatre and cabaret stages, standing stones and a strange area called Shangri-La means you can spend the entire day doing something different and visiting different areas, even if music isn’t your thing.  Over 2000 acts attend the festival: musicians, poets, artists, dancers, DJ’s, circus performers and street performers, so there is always something new and exciting to see or experience.  As long as you are happy to contend with mud – for mud there is – and plenty of it.  Wellies are the fashionwear of the day at Glasto.  In fact it doesn’t matter what else you bring, and whatever strange outfit or chic festival wear you may adorn from the knees up – you need wellies.  

Our Glasto experience started with 5 of us crawling out of bed at 2am at my friend Neil’s house in Loughborough in the Midlands, piling into his boyfriend Dan’s already packed-to-the-rafters car, and heading out onto the M5 for the 3 hour drive to Pilton Farm.  We passed several cars laden with pillows, camping gear and booze, cheering as we overtook them as it meant we would be further up the queue to get in.  We stopped at the petrol station for coffee with other festival-goers, all tired yet excited and desperate for caffeine.  We got there surprisingly early, got a decent parking spot and loaded up our trolley.  It was already drizzling and there was mud everywhere, churned up by hundreds of wellies and an assortment of trolleys and wheelbarrows.  I swapped my rainjacket for my warmer down jacket due to the freezing weather.  By the time we reached our campground, there was a torrential downpour and my sleeping bag and pillow were soaked, not to mention the fact that the water had seeped through my down jacket and I was chilled to the bone.

We found a decent spot near a fence and started to get the tent up so we could get out of the rain.  This fence became a Piss Post for us and several of our fellow campers.  Our group consisted of 9 of us in 2 tents:  Claudia and Rob, and Karen and Steve in one tent, Amy and Chris, Neil and Dan and me in another.  It was all very civilized as we all had little pods or divisions – like our own rooms really.  Even so it was muddy and sort of feral, and in the middle of the night a tent appeared between ours like a big green mushroom, making our little campsite somewhat crowded and meaning we had to move our chairs closer to the Piss Post.

We had great acoustics for the Pyramid stage though and could sit at camp, drink, and listen to whoever was on at the time.  As I’ve been out of the UK for some years I wasn’t familiar with much of the lineup which freed me up to do a fair bit of the other fun stuff on offer.  A lot of the bands I like were on at the same time, and even with overlaps the distances were too great to schlep from one field to another.  You spend a lot of time at Glastonbury wading through mud.  The site is set up into different areas, with different themes, all very well signposted, and connected by areas of food and market stalls.  If you haven’t got it: you can buy it.  From hats to chairs to tents, to flowers for your hair.  A massive tent where you can charge your phone for free – slowly – but a good spot to have a coffee and chillout and meet new people.  The rubbish is legendary and the bins overflow with lager cans and plastic plates.  The loos are disgusting, so much so that a guy died in one on Friday and wasn’t discovered for over 20 hours.  Street performers brave the mud.  It rains, the ponchos come out.  It’s sunny, the white bodies come out and everyone clamours for the tiny bit of shade.  People sprawl in the strangest places.  At night the air is filled with cheering in the distance, tents being unzipped, drums and guitars, sex, snoring and partying.  

Shangri La and the Unfairground were the highlight for me.  A strange place, built like an futuristic industrial city straight out of Bladerunner, with tiny bars, weird and wonderful sideshows, things in cages, and voices blaring through loudspeakers about ‘contamination’ and ‘viruses’.  The Unfairground had some good dance tents, including a ‘50’s style tent with rock and roll bands and decent cocktails, and weird statues that shot fire into the night sky.  Arcadia is a metal structure complete with DJ’s, dancers and acrobats and pyrotechnics.  It can take 40 minutes to get into this area after the last bands have finished but is worth it.  

Music-wise, U2 was incredible although I could have done without the drizzle.  Coldplay were great to see live, but Beyonce stole the show.  With afro-ed dancers, an all girl band, the biggest hair and longest legs I’ve ever seen and her powerful vocal chords, it was a sight to behold.  The women shook their booty and developed girl crushes.  She banged out all her tunes and did Beyonce mashups.  The crowd joined in so enthusiastically for ‘To the left’, the woman practically cried onstage.  Another musical highlight was listening to the legendary Don McLean sing American Pie.  The sun had come out, the day was a scorcher, and I swayed in my bikini top and shorts, flowers in my hair, wellies consigned to the bin and my feet happily adorned in flipflops, waving my hand above my head and feeling all Woodstock-y.  I’ve discovered some new bands to listen to, the mud is a distant memory, and oh god, I want to do it all again.

My crew were fantastic.  Once you’ve tramped through mud together, had a joint she-wee experience (an invention where girls can pee standing up – yes I have one now!), cuddled and huddled in the drizzle, shook your booty to Beyonce, shared a stinky car, stood in the sunshine and rain staring out over the field of a thousand tents, shared a campsite and muddy tent, boundaries collapse.  These are some of the most wonderful 8 people in the world and I’m glad my Glasto-deflowering was with them, and Neil and Dan’s pre-organisation meant I had somewhere to sleep AND had tickets in the first place!  I caught up with a couple of friends, met new people and had some very random experiences.  I’d like to thank the guy who saved me from falling into the mud after my welly got stuck – I sort of fell sideways and grabbed him round the waist as he passed by to the amusement of his friends and disdain of his girlfriend – I practically pulled his trousers down as I struggled to stay upright.  Thanks to Mike and his mates, Sy and Emmy and the rest of their crew, who took me on a very cool adventure through Shangri La.  Mike’s dance moves will go down in history as the coolest Glasto has ever seen.

Roll on 2013!!

Pics are on Facebook:

http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10150225223465779.316936.533375778&l=ea6619eda2

Deadwood, South Dakota

A few years ago HBO brought out a Western TV series called Deadwood, set in a small South Dakota town in the Black Hills during the goldrush boom.  The main characters of the show were: brooding, but fair, Sheriff Seth Bullock (played by Timothy Oliphant); foul-mouthed, corrupt brothel-owner Al Swearengen (played by Ian McShane), George Hearst (father of William Randolph Hearst who built the mansion I visited in California);lawman/gunman Wild Bill Hickok (Keith Carradine), frontierswoman/scout Calamity Jane; and a slew of supporting whores, doctors, saloon owners, corrupt businessmen, gold-rush miners and drunks.

With Wild Bill Hickok, and Jack McCall.

For me as a writer, the show was intelligently written, pure genius in some episodes, but many people couldn’t get their head around the graphic sex scenes, violence, swearing and style of language used, so it was canned after 3 seasons.  

The town of Deadwood and the characters listed above were real, and show caused a resurgence of interest in this historic place.  Since the events depicted in the show, including Wild Bill Hickok’s murder at the hands of Jack McCall in Nuttall & Mann’s No 10 Saloon during a poker game, the town has burned down several times.  It’s hard to tell where the spot of the original 10 Saloon was, or where Al Swearengen hired out whores by the hour in the Gem.  The town has been kept in a Western style, seems to be as popular as Vegas for hen and stag parties, has shootouts in the main street, re-enactments of the shooting of Wild Bill and the trial of Jack McCall, has a slew of casinos, old goldmines and is situated in a picturesque part of the Black Hills.

I loved the show, and realized that I would be able to visit Deadwood on my way back to New York.  It’s also only 40 mins from Mount Rushmore.  I expected a sleepy, mid-Western town, not the crazy, party tourist trap that it has become.  Jon in particular was surprised as he’d never planned on visiting this part of the world, and we both had a ball!

We went to the new Saloon No 10 to watch the re-enactment of the murder of Wild Bill Hickok.  There’s a lot of information on the internet about Hickok’s life as a lawmen and gunslinger, but had a nasty streak and a gambling habit.  Normally he would sit with his back to the wall, but on this occasion had to take the last remaining chair at a table and it ultimately meant his death.  It didn’t stop Calamity Jane from having the hots for him though, and at her request she is buried next to him in Deadwood Cemetery.  In 1876 WBH was shot in the back of the head by Jack McCall, a drifter whose excuse for killing WBH was that he’d murdered Jack’s brother in cold blood.  After the fake murder everyone rushes outside to watch the capture of Jack in the street, where he is then marched down to the courthouse (or Masonic Hall), and his trial played out on stage* .  If there’s one thing you do in Deadwood, do this!  For a measly entrance fee, you are treated to some old style country music, and a hysterical re-hash of the trial where members of the audience are pulled up to play parts (I got to play Ira Ford, brilliant!).  All of the actors are local business owners or work in the bars and casinos around town, and afterwards they get changed and go to their normal jobs meaning you get to chat and know them a little bit.  Jon and I hung out with Travis who plays Wild Bill Hickok for the rest of the evening – he looks just like him!  The town becomes party central at night, a free tram operates to most of the hotels in the surrounding area, and it’s a great place to hang out, meet locals, laugh at stag/hen antics, dance to live bands and get a taste of the Wild West.

*McCall was tried in Deadwood but not convicted as he pleaded it was a revenge killing.  It turned out however that McCall had 3 sisters, no brother.  It was McCall’s big mouth which led to his death: whilst in Wyoming he was heard to brag about shooting Hickok, and the Wyoming authorities refused to listen to his pleas of double jeopardy stating that as Deadwood was still in Indian Territory and his first trial had not been in front of a lawful jury, he could be tried again.  The second trial ended with McCall’s conviction for the murder of Hickok, and he was hanged in March 1877.

A visit to Deadwood Cemetery is a must.  Not only because Wild West icons Calamity Jane and Hickok are buried here, but a short walk up the steep hillside will bring you to Seth Bullock’s grave too, and there are superb views of the town and surrounding hills.  Once you’ve visited, watch the TV series if you haven’t already done so.

My last stop before my mad dash across country was Mount Rushmore. On the way Jon and I visited a place called the Cosmos Mystery Area (http://www.cosmosmysteryarea.com/).  Discovered by student hippies in the ‘50’s, the area seems to be subject to some strange sort of geo-magnetic phenomenon, where forces seem to push or pull you in different directions.  Two huts have been set up where tour guides demonstrate how water can run uphill, your body defies gravity, and short people can seem the same height as someone a foot taller than they are, which I thought was bloody fantastic.  It’s not just optical illusions, my brain was buzzing here.  It was like walking in the mud at Glastonbury, with each step being an effort.

Mount Rushmore was incredible to view, but I literally snapped off a couple of shots, hugged Jon goodbye and headed off for my 3 day exodus back to New York.  I’d also contracted chronic bronchitis and a sinus infection, the only things that got me through those 3 days were copious amounts of red bull and stand up comedy which I listened to on my computer.  I am now a fan of Dane Cook and Lewis Black – listen and learn.  The landscape, which had been mind-blowing to this point, had turned into a boring and never-ending procession of cows, fields, farms, silos and wind turbines.  I can’t say anything of interest really happened, unless you are a Blues Brothers fan.  I stayed overnight in Joliet just outside Chicago – there’s a prison here from which Jake Blues was released at the beginning on the film.  The town is a scary shithole and full of people who are visiting incarcerated loved ones, who honestly look like they should be in prison themselves.  Signs on my door warned me to use both deadbolts provided, and as I was about to go to bed my phone rang.  I answered and whilst someone was on the other end they didn’t say anything so I assume it’s someone who saw me enter the room.  I was out of there at 6am the next morning.

Driving through New York back to JFK was a terrifying experience as I was used to huge open roads with very little traffic.  Luckily the weather in New York was balmy and by the time I’d checked into my hotel I was down to a t-shirt and jeans and basking at being back in one of my favourite places.  Not quite as eventful as my last visit due to a lot of people being out of town, but I got to catch up with some friends before saying a really sad goodbye and heading back to the UK.

Next stop: Glastonbury! 

I left Vancouver on 7 June, making my way through the stunning landscape of Washington and into Montana.  I’d said goodbye to Electra the night before as she was flying back to Ibiza on the 8^th, and was joined by my friend Jon who I also worked with in Brisbane.  Jon had his own car though so we set off separately.  The drive was gorgeous, the weather cool due to snow which was around late in the season.

Jon and I had planned to go to Glacier National Park, however it was closed due to snow and it made sense to head to Bozeman, on the borders of Yellowstone National Park which is in both Montana and Wyoming, famous for its volcanic activity – most notably the geyser called Old Faithful.  If you’ve seen the movie 2012 with John Cusack you are aware of the Yellowstone ‘supervolcano’, a 45 mile caldera that lies beneath Yellowstone.  If this thing blows the plume of lethal ash and gas will plunge Earth into a nuclear winter, ultimately killing everything on the planet.  

The grizzly warnings were out in force, prompting us to buy bear spray, which you are supposed to spray in the face of an oncoming attacking grizzly.  The literature is hysterical.  Now bear (he he) in mind that a fully grown grizzly can weigh in excess of 400 pounds (approx. 200kg) and it’s running FULL PELT at you.  The spray contains capsicum, amongst other things, and you have to take the following considerations in mind:

- A spray distance of 25 feet under optimum conditions. (Factors such as wind, moisture and the age of the canister itself can all reduce the effective distance of the product.)

- Minimum spray duration of 6 seconds;

Bear experts offer the following additional recommendations:

- Carry the bear spray in a quickly accessible location such as a hip or chest holster. If faced with a charging bear, you don't have time to start digging in your pack. In your tent, keep the spray readily available next to your flashlight.

Bear spray should be used as a deterrent only in an aggressive or attacking confrontation with a bear. These products are only effective when sprayed as an airborne cloud and make direct contact with the eyes and nose of an approaching animal.

- These products are not a repellent and should never be applied to people, tents, packs, other equipment or the surrounding area. Research at the Alaska Science Center found that the residue from the spray may actually attract bears, even several days after the product was used! (WTF?!!)

- Keep a firm grip on the canister and aim slightly down and toward the approaching bear; many people tend to aim too high, which could allow the bear to run under the cloud of spray.

- Don't forget that a bear can run at speeds up to 35 miles per hour. Try to spray early enough so the bear, if charging, runs into the widest bear pepper spray cloud and has time to react to the product. If possible, spray when a charging bear is still 30 to 40 feet away (excuse me whilst I get out my tape measure?!).

And… how to survive a grizzly bear attack (from the website The Art of Manliness):

1. Carry bear pepper spray. Experts recommend that hikers in bear country carry with them bear pepper spray. UDAP bear pepper spray is a highly concentrated capsaicin spray that creates a large cloud. This stuff will usually stop a bear in its tracks.

2. Don’t run. When you run, the bear thinks you’re prey and will continue chasing you, so stand your ground. And don’t think you can out run a bear. Bears are fast. They can reach speeds of 30 mph. Unless you’re an Olympic sprinter, don’t bother running.

3. Drop to the ground in the fetal position and cover the back of your neck with your hands. If you don’t have pepper spray or the bear continues to charge even after the spray, this is your next best defense. Hit the ground immediately and curl into the fetal position.

4. Play dead. Grizzlies will stop attacking when they feel there’s no longer a threat. If they think you’re dead, they won’t think you’re threatening. Once the bear is done tossing you around and leaves, continue to play dead. Grizzlies are known for waiting around to see if their victim will get back up.

How to survive a Black Bear Attack:

2. Stand your ground and make lots of noise. Black bears often bluff when attacking. If you show them you mean business, they may just lose interest.

3. Don’t climb a tree. Black bears are excellent climbers. Climbing up a tree won’t help you out here.

4. Fight back. If the black bear actually attacks, fight back. Use anything and everything as a weapon- rocks, sticks, fists, and your teeth. Aim your blows on the bears face- particularly the eyes and snout. When a black bear sees that their victim is willing to fight to the death, they’ll usually just give up.

Oh, but this is the best bit:

Disclaimer

The Art of Manliness does not encourage people to go out and find a bear to practice these skills with. Practicing on your significant other will not do either.

Now, I don’t know about you… but if a fully grown grizzly was running at me at 35mph, I wouldn’t be measuring and aiming how far it was away before spraying.  I’d probably just lob the can at it and run as hard as I bloody could!!  And I would probably try to climb a tree.  Grabbing a rock, branch or just trying to get Mike Tyson on a bear would not occur to me in my utter terror.  The fact is that bears eat roots and leaves, they don’t actually like the taste of human flesh, but they are very bad tempered and incredibly territorial.  And at the time we were in Yellowstone there was still a lot of snow in the higher altitudes, causing the grizzlies to come further down than they would in search of food: and most of them were extremely grumpy after being woken by Spring after their Winter nap.  Rangers warned about hiking, a bear had been chased out of the campground on the north west corner towards the trail that we were going to hike on.  

We walked the Beaver Creek trail – an easy trail that meanders for about 2.5 hours through some gorgeous woodland countryside, with snow-capped mountains all around.  So named for the dam that is on the trail, we saw hide nor hair of a beaver, but we did spot elk.  No grizzlies or black bears thank god, although part of me really wanted to see one!

There’s plenty of animal spotting to be done in the northern part of Yellowstone.  The park has a huge population of bison or buffalo, with more visitors being gored by bison each year than attacked by grizzlies!  We saw plenty of bad-tempered bison lowering their heads at passing cars, as if to charge, but they are the most easily accessible animals, with large herds grazing right next to the road.   We headed out through the Lamar Valley in the early evening to have dinner at Cooke City, a sweet little town on the outskirts of the park (where it snowed), where we also got to see a moose grazing by the side of the forest.  Animals are best spotted at dusk, with Lamar Valley being one of the best places to spot them.  We saw a group of people with high-powered cameras and telescopes camped out by their cars, bundled up against the cold, waiting for a family of wolves, called the Lamar Canyon Pack, that habits the area.  The lovely lady we spoke to (who kindly let us look at a grizzly through her high-powered telescope – the highlight of my day), spoke with sadness about the Druid Peak Pack, so infamous that people from all around the world came to see them.  They contracted mange – a disease easily cured with antibiotics – but the park board decided to let nature take its course and earlier this year the last female in the pack died.  Now the wolf population in Yellowstone National Park is threatened, with the Lamar Canyon crew being one of the few thriving packs in the park.  They have devoted followers who brave the cold, snow and rain to get a rare glimpse.  They know the individuals in the pack, their cubs, their habits.  The tenderness with which the lady we spoke to described the pack, the affection she has for these beautiful animals, the heartbreak she had experienced at watching the Druid pack dwindle to a few sick animals, was incredibly touching.  The wolf fans all had their powerful telescopes focused on the carcass of an elk the pack had killed the previous day then dragged to the edge of a lake, hoping they’d come down and finish off the meal.  It was getting dark and Jon and I had a two hour drive back to Bozeman, so we couldn’t stay around to see if they turned up.

The next day we focused on the mid to Southern sections of the park.  There aren’t really any animals to see this far down, but plenty of thermal activity with several hot lakes, geysers and waterfalls.  We drove past gorgeous Lake Yellowstone which was partially frozen, ringed with snow-capped peaks. 

The real reason to come to this area is Old Faithful.  When you enter the park the ranger gives you a number to call, with the predicted times of eruption.  Eruptions are roughly 90 mins apart, an interval which has increased steadily since the geyser was discovered.  Early pioneers used to put their laundry over the geyser, taking advantage of the 44m spout of boiling water.  Benches surround the site, hundreds of people gathered to watch the geothermal phenomenon.  On cue, almost to the minute, the geyser starts fizzing, the pressure beneath building up to eventually culminate in a huge spout of boiling water, steam pouring off it, to the amazed gasps of the watching audience.  It lasts for a couple of minutes before diminishing slowly.  The region is historical, the Old Faithful lodge has been there since the 1800s and booked up years in advance.  As National Parks go, Yellowstone has to be up there with the best of them, one of the natural wonders of the world.