If you like road tripping then America is the place. Especially if you get one of those enormously, humongously, massively large monster cars. Which is what I needed as I had wife, kids and ps-i-l in tow, so I hired a Chevy Suburban which can seat an army plus luggage (…don’t ask, 3 men + 3 WOMEN…), and off we trundled, down the coast of California.
Luckily, in between the malls of SF and LA, I was occasionally allowed to stop and take a pic or two. I know I know, the cliche images of Route 1, but hey, they’re still great to look at!
I rather fell in love with my Suburban. And I’m slightly worried that if I were American I would end up driving a truck. Where else do you want/need a car where the engine bonnet is at the height of your chest? But the bigness of these cars just seems to go with the place. Almost 2000 miles and I barely let Mrs P drive.
Due to the passengers, I had to curtail – severely – my desire to stop every 10 miles and take another photo. And I barely was allowed to use the tripod at all! So I had to content myself with the best known spots.
Not enough photography. I shall just have to go back and do it all over again by myself. But how, then, do I justify a Suburban….?