Mad dogs and English men

Friday 7 June 2013 Very Hot/Dry

Paul:

The breakfast is served by the happiest, nicest woman in Lake Tahoe City. Afterwards Amanda and I mosey on down to the lake beach, which is 72 miles in circumference.

Amanda drove us into town controlling the 225 bhp engine with expert aplomb. Like most cowboy folk we need to wash our clothes and repel insects and Safeway does not disappoint. Staff are so helpful here and walk with us to make sure we are not taking items out of the shop.

The rest of the afternoon is spent on the Tahoe Gal boat: three hours in temperatures of 100 degrees F. An old Labrador called Cartman sees us off. On the upper deck of the boat we sit without hats staring across the emerald lake to the sound of the captain's narration on our outward bound journey and the entire Pink Floyd's Dark Side Of The Moon album to bring us home again. Americans wear hats or stay inside the boat. The scenery is spectacular, the snow capped mountains of the Sierra Nevada sweeping down the thick pine forested slopes to the golden sand and green/blue lake.

We are set to visit a micro brewery pub this evening. Driving back with the roof down we now take it turns to watch the roof contort itself into a hard top again.

This evening we dine at the Mountain Brewery Company. I get through three craft beers and a huge meal shared with Amanda, BBQ ribs and filled potato skins. There is easily enough for two even though they're meant to be eaten by one person. Four large flat silent screen TVs in each corner keep local diners of all ages occupied with sport. Music is provided mostly by Fleetwood Mac and Lynyrrd Skynrrd.

Stuffed to the gills Amanda drives us back and I change into a green flower patterned smock as supplied by the cowboy owners. Tomorrow is another long drive: to Yosemite National Park.

Amanda:

Apparently the insects only bite the tourists since we are helpfully told in both the pharmacy and the supermarket that although people do ask for insect repellent, they don't actually have any.  The Americans' interpretation of a pharmacy is much racier than ours: they sell booze and cigarettes too.  But not insect repellent.

We spend most of the day on a boat.  I am amused by the unsubtle machinations of the middle aged American women in the queue - who have to go and stand out of their place in the queue to stand in the shade.  This gets them to the start of the queue whereupon they leg it on to the boat, straight to the best tables in the sun!  I slather on the sunscreen but miss a patch on one hand, one foot and my parting.  The redness has developed nicely - at least is proves the sunscreen works.  My head now not only sports ungainly frizz but a scarlet stripe of skin.  And I'd adopted my Syrian headwear too - too late, alas.

The view from the boat is beautiful and we float along admiring the view as the water changes from deep blue to violet to emerald green.  At far point, the boat turns, the occasional narration stopped and blaring music starts up.  I ask the waitress why and she told us that it's very peaceful and quiet so people like music!  We retreat from the speakers but the sensation of tranquillity is lost.

Our dinner choice is based on beer - they brew their own.  We order a starter and main between us - and fail to finish it.  How can anyone eat that much?!!

Paul's not kidding about the smock.  He's worn an array of robes - white waffle on Queen Mary, an extraordinary black satin, fur-lined number in Sonoma that made him look like a Mafioso but this is the most humorous: a cream brushed cotton smock with green pictures of pine trees and log cabins.  He looks - at best - Amish.  I threaten to video him but I fear the retaliation.

No wifi now until Wednesday night....