Final Two nights in Hollywood, Florida

The DeSoto Oceanview Inn
Hollywood, Florida
Monday Evening

After dinner at Pierre's, I do the ironing, watch a great fund raising music concert featuring David Foster and friends on public television and am asleep before my head hits the pillow.
I'm awakened at 11 by what sounds like a thunderous rain storm outside. I wasn't expecting this! But it's not rain, there's obviously some automatic sprinkler system, but it's more a noisy torrent than a sprinkle. Luckily, I get straight back to sleep.
As dawn breaks across the eastern sky, I walk alone on the perfect beach. It is stunningly beautiful and I so want to come back here for a proper holiday.
I'm dreaming of this plan lying in a superbly comfortable hammock, when another couple disturb my reverie.
I am greatly amused that the only thing I am making in my kitchen is a bowl of microwaved porridge. There is every device conceivable, so I could have produced a banquet, had I so wished.
I need to be in Hollywood by half past one, because I am being met by a local PR girl, who is standing in for the Hollywood Visitor Bureau team, who are off at a sales conference. There are no problems on the road, although I have to keep fishing for toll money for the various turnpikes. My Hertz NeverLost GPS system keeps me right, even round some complex junctions near Miami. The roads are horrendously busy, but I am on schedule for my meeting and to collect a bike.
When I arrive at the Desoto Oceanview Inn in Hollywood (www.thedesoto.com), manager, Steve Welsch, is in a bit of a fluster. Everyone has been late checking out, so things are behind. But, no worries, I stash my consumables in the fridge and have my lunch in the serenity of the Inn's lovely peaceful garden. There's still no sign or sound of my host, my itinerary or my bike, so Steve's Venezuelan partner, Josias, kindly lends me his.
I have a very happy couple of hours exploring the superb beaches and the cycle path round the very attractive Anne Kolb nature centre.
I'm not long back at the inn and about to set off in my car to investigate the local rail station, when my host shows up. She's been 'in a meeting'.
I don't think my final two days of 'Hidden Florida' will add a lot to my story. My proposed itinerary consists largely of suggestions of places to eat. It's very disappointing. I am sure there's a lot more to this place, but somebody somewhere has dropped the ball and I am not best pleased.
I've already copped it from Visit Florida's PR people in London for supposedly being too demanding. With more than thirty years in the leisure and tourism business, I expect high standards of professionalism and get very frustrated when people produce sloppy work. Just like Pensacola, Hollywood has not even thought to let me have a map of the local area. Now, I'll be told off again for allegedly wanting to have my hand held too much. Jeez.
But Steve is great. He makes a few phone calls, comes up with some ideas. Meantime, I pore over my Lonely Planet, Rough Guide and map and come up with a plan which will at least give me something which meets my brief..
When I get back from the local TriRail station, Steve and Josias kindly take me out to dinner at a local Cuban restaurant. I can't thank them enough for their kindness.
Back at the Inn, public television is showing, for the third night running, their special fund raising concert. It's jolly good, but three nights in a row?
Even the BBC wouldn't do that!

PLANNING AND PACKING

Three more sleeps before departure, so my bags are almost packed, or at least I have decided what needs to be in them. I am always prone to taking far too much of everything, so I have been pretty ruthless about reducing the load. But the travel kettle HAS to be included and it’s amazing just how much paraphernalia needs to be taken just to ensure that I have the wherewithal to have a decent cup of tea on my travels.

Some years ago, I took the lead from a much-travelled friend who has what he calls his ‘running away bag’. There are huge advantages to be able to just pick that up, knowing that everything a man could possible require en-route has been pre-sorted.

At least, that’s the theory.

For a start, I’ll be travelling on three different airlines within a 48 hour period, all of whom have different regulations about what is permitted in their cabin. To avoid any doubt, and also the potential that my checked in luggage won’t arrive at the same time and place as me, I will carry on board all essentials for at least 3 days. But one airline will allow that case to be 10KG, one 23KG and one seems to tell me that, ‘as long as I can lift it without assistance’, then that’s fine.

Well I can, but only just.

I’ve just turned down a lunch appointment, despite the fact that it’s gloriously sunny outside and I really do need a break from the fairly intense planning I have now being doing over the past three weeks.

But various computer systems are not allowing me to do what should take me moments and I feel the stress levels mounting. Oh how I long for those days when you simply turned up and took off!

On my last trip to the States, I had such a grilling from the man at the immigration desk that I vowed never to return. I felt especially aggrieved that I was there as a Naval Reserve Officer, had a multiple entry Visa and was being treated like the dirt on the smarmy shoes he no doubt was wearing.

Now, you have to fill up a special form online before you travel, which allows you to fly but not necessarily to get in. The link from British Airways to the Department of Homeland Security seems to have been broken for the past 48 hours and even BA can’t update the fact I’m not now staying at the hotel I originally entered into the system. Clearly I am an alien and, Santa Claus having brought me the entire series of the X Files, I am almost beginning to believe.

I have not so far been hugely impressed with BA, especially their new rules regarding seat allocation. While I can pre-book my seat at the time of reservation on almost any other airline anywhere in the world, unless I have a BA Platinum or Gold card, I can’t now choose my seat until 24 hours before the flight. Before you ask, I’m flying in the Club World cabin. But I expect that, in an attempt to win friends, the same rules now apply to First Class, as well.

I was planning to ask a friend to book my seat, as I’ll be in mid-air en route to London when online seat allocation opens, but the lady in the call centre was unable to access the Business Class cabin plan when I called, so I will probably end up near the toilet or the galley.

I’m highly unamused, but it’s best not to complain too much as the company is largely funding the trip.

.

I have been surrounded by guide books and maps for about a fortnight. I am not a slave to what they say but, as a contributor to several, I do like to compare notes. Unusually, I am without my Rough Guide as the Spanish distributor has run out and I won’t actually take delivery of my copy until I arrive in London.

But Lonely Planet and the Insight Guide and map have been very useful indeed in putting everything into context. Mind you, the very glossy Insight Guide alone weighs nearly a kilogram and its’ bulk may mean it becomes a casualty of the swingeing cuts I am making to my luggage.

The guides bring me up with a bit of a jolt. I had no real idea that Florida was quite so big and diverse. Early on, I’ll almost be within touching distance of New Orleans, for heavens’ sake! I’ve visited the Sunshine State several times, but not criss-crossed it as I will be doing over the next month.

One book I will be leaving at home is the excellent Bradt guide to USA by rail. I SO wanted to get about by Amtrak. But, despite a flurry of emails to both Amtrak and their main sales agent, I have had no joy in adding any rail to my itinerary.

Most disappointing.