17 May, 2006 (Wednesday) Hoover Dam, Arizona

'The Americans, they have a way with words - grand, awesome, majestic, enduring forever. - I've wandered through their stilted prose more than once and it makes me wonder: is this what instills such patriotic fervour, or is it just a reflection of their world view?'

Hooters - a review
They have a Hooters Casino in Vegas. As neither Sean nor myself have ever frequented the infamous restaurant we figured that it was past time to check out the scene... Surprisingly Hooters Casino is one of the nicer ones we've seen - though small, it feels relaxed and the fittings aren't overly tacky.

Hooters uniforms are another thing entirely. The white t-shirts are tight, but not any more suggestive than most of the other garb I've seen in the last few days on female casino staff. The orange shorts are truly horrific. High cut, they do nothing for the majority of gals except make them look more pudgy than they really are. I think the uniform needs a re-vamp. Get with the times!

The food was passable. The service was okay, although I miss the personal touch of being engaged in actual conversation.


Hoover Dam
The car was like a furnace by the time we reached Hoover Dam. Car seat leather seems to hold the heat and the sun roof converts the cabin into a greenhouse. Hoover Dam is gigantic. It's huge walls, embedded into the canyon, are amazing. (Picture: Hoover Dam has created two great lakes - they look like nice kinda resort areas in the desert)

Looking at this self-proclaimed engineering marvel made me think about the return on investment of alternative energy sources - hydro electric, wind, geothermic. We're still very oil focused, despite environmental and renewability concerns. How difficult is it to make use of natural snowmelt and rivers to push turbines? In terms of engineering effort I'm sure it can be quite challenging, but I'd assume that mining and international pressures would exert their own indirect costs.


Grand Canyon Hostel
As the sun began to set Sean spotted a hostel sign and pulled in. The place looked a lot like the motel out of Psycho, white-washed walls, parking out front of a long building - welcome to the Grand Canyon Hostel. Surprisingly the place wasn't too busy, so we paid our $15 a head and booked in.

The owner was a grey-haired woman who seemed to have a lot of cats. At least a dozen.

We soon met the other residents, one woman who was scary in that slow kind of way - without any prompting she started telling us about how she'd grown up in a one room cabin with a dug out toilet and how it was like they were always camping. Walking past her vehicle the following morning I noticed huge piles of Christian evangelical literature. The other resident was a large framed woman who seemed glued to the television. She asked where I was from, and when I said Australia she started telling me about a guy called Mark that she'd met in Vegas and who was also traveling. I didn't have the heart to tell her that I didn't know him.

The outhouse smelt rank. The showers required payment, a quarter for 3 minutes. We slept well as the rooms were well away from the main road. We locked our door and barred it with the dresser.