We were on the road again and it felt like I was just getting used to the deep fried food, redneck accents, hay sales, hunting shops and strip clubs at trucker stops. This was going to be the longest drive of the trip, so we had it split over two and half days, pit-stopping at Daytona beach and some interstate hotel in South Florida.
Daytona was kind of interesting - lots of hype over their racing heritage. But seriously, what's so amazing about driving around in circles? The two best things that spawned out of Daytona are (1) the video arcade game (of course) and (2) Talladega Nights. Oh but the hooters wasn't bad either, except Phil got dominated by that 27th chicken wing. Unfortunately it was way too cold to swim, but the beaches did look pretty good, although nothing compared to the ones back home.
Yes I know, you're all probably thinking: "Why didn't you stop in Orlando? There are so many awesome theme parks!" Frankly though, we're sick of that after being to LA. Well we did stop in Orlando, for two hours. Obviously we didn't make it to a theme park. What did I do instead? Yeah, you're right, I had to do it again - I went to Orlando Barbell, a chalk dusted warehouse home to Florida's best powerlifters. So now I've been to a couple of hardcore athlete oriented gyms, and now a hardcore powerlifting gym. I guess the last thing I need to knock off the list is a bodybuilding gym (Gold's Gym South Beach Miami here I come!).
After getting my fix we were on the road again driving like hell down the I-95 to get as close to Miami as possible before crashing. Plenty of good fun in the car, observing the wild Sasquatch hibernating and other interesting things.
The next day we pulled into Alamo car rental and dropped off our faithful baby Penelope, the best damn PT cruiser in the world. We'd been through 2300 miles of blacktop, gravel, sand, snow, ice and dirt, probably close to 75 gallons of fuel and multiple I-pod playlists. More importantly, we went through 2 GPS's - Eileen, the sweet talking machine from Insignia who kept restarting and finally choked and died in Atlanta, and Krystal-Nicole (Krystal because she took us to a Krystal fast-food restaurant by mistake, and Nicole because she reminded us of our Hooters waitress, all looks and no brain).
Alright enough of that. What's coming up? 4 nights in a giant 270m, 4000 passenger, 13 deck floating resort.
Ohhhh I love it when we're cruising together.
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