In the morning we got up fairly early. Partly out of excitement about the canyon and partly out diagust at the room we'd just stayed in. Back we went, through the Joshua Tree National Forest and once again back over the dirt roads - which Donna was now a pro at navigating in Frank. Once at the park and begrudgingly paid the 'entrance fee' we headed to the western town they'd mocked up, where we were shot at by cowboys, wrangled a (pretend) cow and took a wagon ride over the prairie. Then it was a quick bus ride to eagle point for some incredible views and perfect ledge sitting. We then had lunch and were introduced to the wonder that is trail mix which Donna is now addicted to. After which it was time to head onto the skywalk. Now, I love my brown chums like family- but the asian invasion that was taking place on this skywalk was ridiculous!! All males, middle aged and sporting agood full tash - a definite lads holiday! There is a weight capacity on the skywalk so we had to hang around until they had taken every picture combination, in every pose possible and the last wee fella who was obviously petrified of heights had edged his way around clinging for dear life onto the railings- until we were allowed on. The best part of it was jumping up and down when the scared people walked past. Once we were done terrorising the other tourists we ended up being shown around another good vista point by a Native American. He told us some really interesting points about the origin of the canyon (or the lack of knowledge about the origin of the canyon), about the remains of a carwreck that went over the edge during the filming of a movie, the old cable car that would take men across the canyon to mine for bat poo in the caves, and some fossils of plants and sea creatures from when it was all under water. All I could think about was asking him questions about being an Indian though, but thought better of it.

After a mooch around the tipees and deciding which ones we'd prefer to live in, we hit the road for our next destination, Phoenix. This journey was memorable for the massive thunder storm that we drove through. I have never seen anything like it. It was like being right in the middle of the clouds. We eventually made it through the other side and got to Phoenix just in time to pop into a bar recommended to us by the bloke called Keith (middle aged Brit so you can set the scene) - The Lost Leaf. This was a beer kinda place with local brews as far as the eye could see. So of course we had a few Coronas. We did try the pumpkin beer and the banana beer as well to be fair. The pumpkin was horrible - the banana tasted like a blended up banana bread loaf - drinkable! So amongst the live music going on (this was the Art District after all) Donna manages to pick up some friends who we presume to be gay (there vibe and ... it is the Art District after all). After some ever so humorous Anglo-American bants, they offered to take us to an after party as all the bars and clubs shut around 12/1am in Phoenix. YOLO as the kids say. First we just had to swing by their mansion and pick up their other friend. Ok so it was no British stately home, but this place was super nice! Owned but artist who rented a floor to each guy, with lush views over Phoeniz from the roof. Not too shabby. Anyway we head to this after party and that's when things start to get a little bot too weird for our liking. As we turn up to this house someone is doing a spot of bricklaying. We are told thia is to stop people looking in as it is not wholly legal. Once in the property and walked through he death stares from locals, we realise the house has been gutted and turned into a bar/club/potential drugs den. We escape to the garden and mull around the bonfire to plan our escape, but not before Donna has managed to convince the crowd that she is a tight rope walker in a circus. At the signal of our code word 'kumquat' our escape is aided by one of the guys we met. At the hostel we breathe a big sigh of relief and then start to panic at the lack of planning for tomorrow.