"You, are going to love me," said the girl at Avis. I had no choice but to go for this car-rental company because it was the only one that would accept a one-way drop-off of my magnitude. The car that I booked online was a Chevrolet entry-level piece of scrap metal. For 20 minutes, I chatted to her about her working hours, how this affected her relationship with her boyfriend, my road trip and why I was doing it. Once again, being nice at a car rental company paid off handsomely.
For the price of a piece-of-shit Chevy, I was upgraded to a brand new Toyota Corolla 4-door executive saloon. Only 4,000 miles on the clock, Japanese quality air-conditioning, 21st century fuel consumption and featherlite power-steering. I saved $450 for the week just on car rental alone, and the fuel economy was astounding compared to the Jeep. By the time I reached the early stages of redwood forest country (about 60 miles north of SF), the fuel needle had barely budged.
Note size of trees vs car in front.
An afternoon's worth of driving brought me to the seaside town of Eureka (north California) which I had planned to stop at. The only problem was it looked just a bit depressing in a way that makes you wonder what people who actually live here think of their own town. Na...lets go further.
"Everyday is like Sunday"
Luckily, the sun took a long time to set so I kept going all the way to Crescent City on the very northern edge of California. 377 Miles, not bad for half a day's drive. The manager at the motel had never seen an Irish passport, a Hong Kong ID Card or an Argentinian 2-pesos banknote, so I gave him the latter (to pin on his wall) in exchange for the best room in the house: the extra large one, usually reserved for handicapped people. At US$50 it was pretty good.
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