And this is where the fun REALLY begins.
So after staying in a
feral charming hotel in Los Angeles, California, it was time to head to my Contiki tour. I ordered an Uber to take me to the meeting place, and as I watched the driver pass me and then cancel my own trip on me, I started to wonder whether I was even going to make it onto the tour. Luckily, the second Uber driver didn’t drive passed me as if he didn’t see me and conveyed me to the meeting place.
Upon my nervous arrival, I was greeted by a beautiful blonde woman named Jodie from Sydney who would also be on my tour. I was also pleased to hear that I wasn’t the only one who didn’t attend the Kickstart meeting. She introduced me to her travelling companion Joey, and I instantly liked the duo. “Maybe this tour won’t be so bad,” I thought to myself.
After the awkward introductions had taken place, we loaded onto the coach and left LA for our first stop: Las Vegas, Nevada (yes, I flew from Vegas to LA just to go back to Vegas on a coach). It was on this coach that we were first introduced to our “day song” (literally a song you listen to first thing you step onto the coach every day): Beat of my Drum by Powers. The song was annoying. Little did I know I would grow to love it.
In my opinion, Vegas was Vegas: there were about 20 moving vehicles promoting hot babe escort services driving down the Strip, neon lights and batshit people lining the sidewalks, and you were allowed to casually drink alcohol on the streets. After having a look around with Jodie, Joey, Georgia (also now affectionately known as Nicole/Grobbies/Veronica), Feddo, James and Nathan (AKA Nate/Bae), it was time to go out for the night. After dinner and taking a sexy group picture at the famous Vegas sign, we went through the VIP line into Hakkasan’s, one of Vegas’ hottest and most jam packed nightclubs.
I had prior notice that the first two nights in Vegas were the vital group bonding nights so I was expecting lots of drunk dancing, friendship making and family bonding. I was right. On day one, I knew that I loved my group. Every single one of them.
Day two in Vegas was relatively chill. A group of us went to a fancy ass mofo pool party (complete with hot foreign waitresses in bikinis and attractive people lying around in swimwear not actually getting wet) and despite the unusual cost for chair hire, it was actually really fun. After some free time exploring with Grobbies, it was time for our included limo ride down the strip with champagne (that tasted like donkey piss) and we were either dropped at the club for the night or back to the hotel. I opted for the latter because I was tired, and apparently I made a bad decision. People had fun. Without me. How rude.
Vegas was officially over and we were headed to Grand Canyon, Arizona. We were promptly informed by our
sexpot wonderful tour manager Serena that there was no nightlife in Grand Canyon and to use it as “rehab”. Fair enough. We got to take in the lovely view that was the Grand Canyon (trust me when I say pictures do not do this place justice) and have family dinner. It was also the lovely Sonja’s birthday so we also got to serenade her with the boganest version of Happy Birthday ever.
The next day, we were invited to either: A) Take a helicopter ride over the Canyon, B) Take a bike ride around it or C) Hike it ourselves. Since I don’t like helicopters or bikes, hiking was the best option… even though I don’t like hiking either. It was up until this point that I had done well to conceal my “precious” traits. And then I went on a Canyon hike with a group of others, and the Princess qualities in me came spilling out. Whatevs.
I will say that it was an experience to be had, and once and once only will do me for a lifetime. I don’t hike. Like, I just don’t.
That evening we went out for a family picnic on the rim of the Grand Canyon and it was here that I accomplished an amazing feat: I touched the edge of the Canyon (after much hand holding, prodding and cat crawling to the edge)! Those who know me are well aware I can’t stand heights, so this was a deadset achievement.
After all the hard partying in Canyon had finished, we were off to our third stop: Durango, Colorado. Before we reached Colorado, we made a stop by Monument Valley in Utah AKA the place where Forrest Gump finishes his run because he’s decided he’s tired. We even recreated the running scene with handsome bearded Jarrod taking the role as Forrest.
OMG how did my modelling portfolio shots get in there. My friends tell me I look like Mischa Barton. I so don’t.
As soon as we had crossed the state border, Serena was quick to inform us that most people tend to enjoy the small town of Durango the most, and often get “Durango’d”; because of the high altitude and overall cheap price of alcohol, it was quick and easy to get drunk in Durango and go a bit too hard. Turns out she was right. Not only was my amazing roommate Alex completely off his face before dinner had even started, everyone was drunk and wild and ready to party as soon as we hit the local bar Moe’s.
Drinking with the family in Durango was by far one of the biggest highlights of my trip, and I truly understand the meaning of getting Durango’d. It was this night that I really bonded with two guys that would become absolutely dear to me by the end of the tour, Tony and Mitch (otherwise known as the Enzo and Cass to my Carmella), despite the latter constantly accusing me of being high maintenance. Like, I’m so not.
After exploring the town of Durango the morning after, our fourth stop on day six was Albuquerque, New Mexico. Known to some pop culture addicts as the location for Breaking Bad, it was also a stop with laundry (one does not know how glorious laundry is until one is running out of clean underwear). After a long night at Durango, everyone used this as another rehab stop, so with that in mind, I organised a pool party for everyone to attend at the hotel. Although I stand by my original statement that Genevieve was the one who wanted to turn it into a Sexy Pool Party Orgy Extravaganza…
wild orgy rather tame pool party and doing a load of laundry, not much else was done in Albuquerque since I point blank refused to get on a hot air balloon.
It was on the way to our next stop that one of the running gags of the tour would form. We made a quick stop by Santa Fe, New Mexico for a quick bite to eat and a quick look around. Being my first time in Santa Fe, I wasn’t aware of its shopping status, so stepping off the coach with the most innocent expression on my face, I casually asked Serena: “Is there a Tiffany’s here?”
And thus, #Tiffanys was born, and from then on, I would ask if there was a Tiffany’s present at every stop we made, whether it be at a big city, or a servo in the middle of nowhere.
By the way, there isn’t a Tiffany’s in Santa Fe. Just FYI.
It was now that I realised my entire Contiki travels would not fit into one post, so stay tuned for the second half of my wild Contiki adventure with the friends that quickly became my family.
– by The Black Widow