Route 66

Chicago

The departure turns out to be very tough: wake-up at dawn and by 6 we're already at the airport. The flight to Madrid goes smoothly in a couple of hours and we don't have to wait long for the connection.

We take off for Chicago at around 12 and after 9 hours and two meals worthy of a prison camp, we land in the capital of Illinois. Once the customs procedures are done, we run to meet our luggage which strangely is already on the belt! The stroke of luck is unusual and we don't miss the chance to save some time: we swoop down like hawks on the suitcases and by around 3 pm we're already on the shuttle headed to the Holiday Inn Mart Plaza!

The impact with the city is exciting, the skyline presents itself with the imposing facade of the Sears Tower and our hotel exceeds expectations: it's in the heart of the city and our room overlooks the tower of the John Hancock Center.

Unconcerned about the jet lag we go out to explore the streets and immediately the impression is excellent: the streets, the venues, the buildings, the people, it's all fabulous!

We walk alongside the Chicago River to the intersection with the Magnificent Mile which we go up to right below the John Hancock. The skyscraper is majestic, it soars toward the sky and invites us to go up, to look at the immense panorama that the city offers at night. We go up to the bar on the 96th floor and there we stay open-mouthed: the streets, the lights, the dark and enormous 'blot' left by Lake Michigan in the heart of the glittering city, keep us glued to the windows. Once back on solid ground we start searching for a place to eat, and in the end we settle on a steakhouse near the hotel. Beautiful venue, on the river, with a refined atmosphere. In the bar area for $18 per person they serve us a mega 3-kilo hamburger:)

The first day in the United States ends with the clock set back 7 hours and an initial assessment that gives us energy, even though we're more drained than an old Volta battery.

We use our last reserves of strength for a shower and a big sleep.

Chicago

In the morning we get up early because we have a very packed schedule and we want to stick to it.

We start at Lou Mitchell, the first place listed by the guides that deal with Route 66. It's famous for its breakfasts and it truly deserves its reputation: we eat scrambled eggs with bacon, pancakes with maple syrup and jam, juices, and coffee and spend only 9 dollars.

On the way out we pass under the celebrated Sears Tower but the impact is less exciting than expected, we conclude that the city has much more beautiful skyscrapers. For example the 333 of Wacker Drive, to which we become ideally attached.

By now we've gotten familiar with the Loop, the elevated railway that serves the heart of Chicago, so we move toward the Art Institute, exactly at the intersection of Jackson Bv. with Michigan Av., this is where Route 66 begins and a sign that says 'begin' reminds us why we're there.

Afterwards we immerse ourselves in the green of Millennium Park and the walk gives us surprises behind every path, in particular we're struck by the open-air auditorium designed by Frank O. Gehry and 'the bean' by Anish Kapoor, an enormous sculpture, in titanium, that reflects and distorts the sky, the city's skyline and everything that is mirrored on its surface. You can find some photos of this spectacular park by visiting this link. We observe the people, the cleanliness and the care with which they preserve the things they have and we're happy to have extended our stay in Chicago: it's a magnificent city! After a brief break at the hotel to regain our strength, we're ready for dinner. Our destination is Billy Goat Tavern, the favorite place of the journalists of the Chicago Tribune.

The place is near the tower that takes its name from the mythical city newspaper, in a basement to be precise. The appearance is very rundown, it looks like the classic dive bar, but the atmosphere is familiar and conveys an unusual calm in such a big and busy metropolis.

We respect the gastronomic "tradition" of the place and order a double cheeseburger and a hot dog, but above all we breathe the air of the typical American place: counter, managers, tables, chairs, everything recalls the 1950s. And it's not a reconstructed environment: it's always been like this!

Once dinner is over we return to the Loop: the night is long and you can see that the people of Chicago are ready to live it. We wander around the city, we get as far as the water games, lights, and music of the Buckingham Fountain in Grant Park and we stay to admire the nighttime skyline from the shores of Lake Michigan. By now it's night, and we find ourselves sitting on a bench along the river smoking the last cigarette dedicated to Chicago. The city of the Blues and of Al Capone surprised us: it's truly beautiful, to be explored more deeply. In practice it deserves a vacation all to itself:) Then we return to the hotel, it's time to plan the departure for the next day, St. Louis awaits us. [... to be continued]

Chicago - St. Louis

At 7 we're already up, ready to pick up the car at Alamo.

Once the paperwork is done we get acquainted with the Chevrolet Impala that for almost 2 weeks will be a bit like our home, along with the road. Just to get familiar with the car and American traffic we immediately commit a couple of memorable traffic violations, but we're lucky: apart from a few honks, no one notices us and we head toward Lou's for another big breakfast. We repeat yesterday's menu and after saying goodbye to the friendly Linda, a big woman in love with Italian shoes who served us breakfast, we open the maps with a single goal: take the road and get to St. Louis. Leaving Chicago isn't easy but in the end we're directed onto I-55 South, the highway that after about 300 miles will take us to our destination.

Driving in the USA turns out to be easy and pleasant, especially if you know the route to follow and have a car equipped with cruise control, like ours. Following the directions of the De Lucas, an "alternative" guide I put together in Italy with the maps to reach all the places where we'll be staying, we finally arrive at the Ramada motel.

Just enough time to drop off our bags and gather information on how to get to downtown and we're back on the road. The city is 18 miles from us but getting there isn't difficult, we immediately find the parking lot indicated on the guide and begin our excursion of the Jefferson Memorial.

The view that awaits us just outside the parking garage is one of those you remember forever: we're overlooking the Mississippi, which flows placidly, very wide and dark. Behind us is the Gateway Arch, a structure 164 meters tall by the Finnish-American Saarinen, which ideally represents the gateway to the West, a role that in US history has always belonged to the city of St. Louis. From the riverbank come the sound and voice of a blues concert, which draw us in to see a show staged in a unique setting. There's even an interpreter next to the singer who translates the songs into sign language in time with the music, as if she were dancing! Behind the stage, on the other bank, old paddlewheel boats are moored, transformed into bright casinos.

After strolling on Market St. we head toward Laclede, the historic district of the city, full of venues. It feels like being in a film: everything has remained as it was at the beginning of the last century. The cobbled streets are crossed by carriages, steaming manhole covers, dim lights, red-brick houses, everything takes you back in time. Only the modern giant pork steak brushed with bbq sauce and the local Bud Light that we order at the historic Hannegan's, remind us that we're in 2006. So, with full stomachs, we head back to the motel, leaving behind us the colors of the fireworks exploding over the river, perfectly framed within the Gateway Arch.

It's late, time to rest, tomorrow we hit the road again. [... to be continued]

St. Louis - Springfield

Wake-up at 7, a big breakfast of waffles and muffins awaits us before starting the journey toward Springfield.

We begin the trip on I-55 which we'll then leave for I-44, but at the first useful exit we're immediately on 'our' road, Route 66.

We cover mile after mile surrounded by the woods of the Ozark hills. The landscape is enchanting, we're crossing the lesser-known USA, made up of ordinary people, of small towns along the roads, of warmth and curiosity toward the foreigners crossing their territory.

After passing the Meramec Caverns, a place of refuge for bandits and soldiers during the Civil War, the Route passes through the center of small towns: Cuba, Rolla, Lebanon are the most characteristic and you can indeed notice how their current economy is buoyed by the tourism produced by the legendary road.

Everything or almost everything is named after it, it's the consecration of the myth, a hymn to the asphalt that for years connected the West and the East of this young nation.

We proceed in amazement among gas stations and run-down motels, until lunchtime finds us devouring an excellent bacon cheeseburger at the Rocking Chair, a little place on the edge of I-44, the fast highway that will take us to Springfield.

After a break at the hotel we get back on the road to reach Branson, the Las Vegas of Missouri due to the many shows scheduled during the summer season.

The 40 miles separating us from the city are littered with billboards advertising the many upcoming shows, and folk and country music concerts undoubtedly reign supreme.

We're more and more curious and once parked, the city presents itself in the best possible way: the American anthem and a show of fountains and fireworks on the river waters.

After a stroll on the very commercial Main Street, it looked like an Italian outlet even though I think it's the Italian outlets that take inspiration from these American centers, we go to Texas to eat a tender 8-ounce sirloin steak.

After 323 miles and 9 hours of driving we only have the strength to drag ourselves to the hotel and close our eyes, goodnight Missouri. [... to be continued]

Springfield - Oklahoma City

At 9 we're in the car to tackle what in the initial plans was supposed to be the longest leg of the trip: 545 km from Springfield to Oklahoma.

Only as the days go by will we realize that it will have been an "average" leg, the longest will come in a few days, oh yes it will;)

Better not to trust too much the plans made in Italy, on the road anything can change... guaranteed!

On the road we stop to admire the Victorian-style buildings of Carthage, a small, well-kept town proud of its reputation as a historic US city.

In the center of the town is the Court House building, which looks like a castle, and all around it the urban fabric unfolds, quiet and good-natured, with a feel of simple but true things. There are the general stores, the antique shops, the pub where the elderly have breakfast and play rummy. In short, Carthage is very beautiful and we're sorry to have to leave.

But the road awaits us and we can't resist the idea of continuing, without maps, on Route 66. After several detours and requests for info, Tulsa appears on the horizon, our next stop along the way.

The city, made famous by the oil boom, isn't particularly interesting, but it preserves for about 40 miles a spectacular historic stretch of the Route, the one from 1927-1932, which of course we drive in its entirety.

The Old 66 winds through the city and offers incredible glimpses of the outskirts, preserved in early-1900s style, while all around the modern "Interstates" take you to your destination quickly but with less poetry.

We're not in a hurry and so, at the end of the historic stretch, we grab a bite at Subway and then get back on I-44 toward our destination.

We're now in the heart of Oklahoma and the landscape is characterized by vast plains and pastures. The people also seem rougher, used to working in the fields and leaving little room for distractions. We notice it already from the chaos and hysterical traffic near the capital.

Getting to the hotel turns out to be more complicated than expected but after 100 calculations, we hit the target.

The break to unload the bags and freshen up is brief as always, so we immediately get back in the car and go downtown, to visit the memorial built to remember the victims of the 1995 terrorist attack.

The impact is strong, in place of the destroyed building there are two enormous walls of black, polished marble, one facing the other. Between them a reflecting pool marks the former surface of the destroyed federal building. At the top of the black marble slabs stand the numbers 9:01 and 9:03, the times of the 2 explosions.

Making the atmosphere even more evocative are 168 empty chairs, facing the reflecting pool. Each chair bears the name of a victim and it gives you chills to see large chairs, for adults, alternating with small chairs, for children.

Behind them, like a warning against hatred and terror, the rough rubble of the walls that withstood the impact has been left.

Leaving the memorial we notice on the entrance wall the photos of those who lost their lives that day, the notes, the dedications, the prayers, the flowers, everything as if the tragedy had happened yesterday and not 11 years ago.

We leave with one realization: Americans, compared to us, don't just remember, Americans don't forget.

We head back toward the hotel and as indicated on the guide we stop for a hamburger at the Charcoal, a historic drive-in where you can pick up your dinner from your car. By now we've become familiar with these roads and so we enjoy a nice nighttime excursion among the suburban side streets, all the way to the hotel.

Then all that's left is to close our eyes and sleep, tomorrow it will be Amarillo's turn.

Oklahoma City - Amarillo

As always, early in the morning, we set off to reach the new destination: Amarillo, in Texas.

The first stop is Clinton, where we stop to visit a small and detailed museum that Oklahoma has dedicated to Route 66.

We talk to people who tell us about their family's exploits on the legendary road, and we're fascinated by the attachment many Americans have to tradition. They're nostalgics, at a certain age they feel the need to reconstruct the past, to retrace it backward, as if searching for their own origins, the roots of their existence.

We leave satisfied and, driving along a historic stretch of our road, we head for Texola. The town is on the border between Oklahoma and Texas and looks like a movie set. It's deserted, bare and neglected but retains a ghostly charm. We're in the mood for adventure and so we decide to have lunch right in the only restaurant in the place, the Windmill, where we get a really excellent chop beef sandwich, seasoned with a generous helping of bbq sauce.

Back on the road, we head without delay toward Amarillo but... along the way a kind of luminous Christmas tree cuts across the median strip and points at us.

It's a Texas police patrol that, after making a U-turn into our lane, pulls right up with its nose against the rear of our Chevrolet. It seems determined to welcome us at all costs, so we slow down and stop.

We stay calm and wait in the car for the officer to reach us. When he arrives he charges us with violating the State speed limits: we were going 83 miles per hour instead of the permitted 70: he measured us with laser coming toward us in the opposite lane!

We convince him that we're good, respectful tourists and that our cruise control was set at 70, so he lets us off and issues only a warning.

No fine this time, but next time...

Once we arrive in Amarillo we wander around the city waiting for dinner, then head toward the characteristic San Jacinto district, where along 6th there are antique shops, bookstores, vintage clothing and other dusty, second-hand goods.

But the highlight of the street are the venues with their signs, and we stop at the most famous one: the Blue Gator. Outdoor tables facing the street, ice-cold beer for $1.50 and a fabulous sunset made even more sparkling by the chrome of dozens of enormous Harleys that really seem at home here. After a portion of chips with gazpacho, we reach the legendary Big Texan to eat a famous Texas steak.

The place is worthy of its fame, it's so famous and celebrated that inside it even has a themed souvenir shop, all dedicated to its name, the State that made it famous, the ranch cowboys, etc....

Inside, the waiters move between the tables in period costume, while an acoustic band enchants the spectators with old West ballads. All around, stuffed animals, staircases and wooden mezzanines like in a real saloon!

Not to mention the meat, absolutely up to expectations. We devour a 12-ounce ribeye and then go to the hotel satisfied.

Amarillo, which was supposed to be just a pass-through stop, had many surprises in store for us. [... to be continued]

Amarillo - Tucumcari

In the morning we leave Amarillo. It will be a day of driving to tackle calmly since Tucumcari, our next destination, is only 120 miles away.

During the trip we observe how the surrounding landscape has changed, we're now in full western climate, the temperature is around 30 degrees, the vegetation is more and more bare and the earth is colored with different shades of red.

The first stop is Adrian, the Midpoint of Route 66. At this point the equidistance between Chicago and Los Angeles, the two great cities united by the historic road, has been mathematically calculated.

For all travelers Adrian is an important moment because it ideally represents the turning point, and that goes for us too. From Chicago we've left 1139 miles behind us, and just as many await us to Santa Monica (but we'll do manyyyy more), so all that's left is to get back on our way.

We head straight for Glenrio, a ghost town located just across the border with New Mexico, the sixth State crossed so far.

The town is even more desolate than Texola, and even smaller, so much so that there isn't even a single working business! To eat something we have to reach Tucumcari. Once we've left the suitcases at the hotel, we eat a hamburger at Denny's and are ready to plan an excursion to Santa Rosa, a very well-kept little town 90 miles south of Tucumcari, with several lake parks and the Blue Hole that has aroused our curiosity.

Once we arrive we better understand the choice of the name given to this site. It's a spring fed by an underground river and the water that surfaces, thanks to the white rocks on the bottom and the direct reflection of the sky, forms a small and deep pond of an extraordinary blue color.

Since you can only dive with a permit for cave diving excursions, we stay leaning on the low wall overlooking the water. So we relax in the sun and smoke a couple of cigarettes surrounded by silence and squirrels. How strange this body of water is in the middle of desert-like New Mexico!

After returning to the hotel, we go out for dinner and with the arrival of night it's revealed to us why the insignificant Tucumcari is considered a fundamental stop for this type of trip: the city grew along the Route and it's along it that all the shops, cafes and the over 50 motels that are the pride of the town face.

After dusk it's their colored neon signs that snatch Tucumcari from anonymity.

So we review the Palomino, the Teepee, the Mexican, the Apache and the legendary Blue Swallow, unchanged since the 1950s, not only on the outside but also inside, so much so that in the rooms the television is... in black and white!

After the tour we stop to dine at Pow Wow, a characteristic place with live country music. For 15 dollars we eat a steak chop burger and an enormous salad with ranch dressing.

Afterwards all that's left is to set our watches to the new time zone (still an hour behind Italy, -8) and sleep.

Tomorrow we'll head toward Albuquerque passing through Santa Fe, and we'll do it in a very particular way.

We need a lot of rest to recover our energy, tomorrow will be another very long day. [... to be continued]

Tucumcari - Santa Fe - Albuquerque

For this leg we wake up and leave earlier than usual. We intend to reach Albuquerque via Santa Fe, to start seeing a part of the capital of New Mexico already today.

This detour, planned in advance, costs us about 60 extra miles but allows us to drive on a stretch of Route 66 from before 1937, the year the bypass that today connects Albuquerque to the East was built, sparing travelers the obligatory excursion toward the 2200 meters of Santa Fe.

The Old Route, moreover, is more fascinating than the monotonous I-40 and offers unique glimpses, with landscapes more and more western.

Along the way we stop for breakfast in Ribera, at La Risa. The place and the setting feel more Mexican than US, the vegetation around is bare, the sun burns and the colors present seem chosen in an atelier: the entrance door matches the blue of the sky and the walls of the building are sand-colored, blending harmoniously with the surrounding landscape.

And then the food is really good: tea, coffee, orange juice, eggs, bacon, potatoes and to finish brownie and peach pie. Now we can really get back on the road!

Once we arrive in Santa Fe the city presents itself with its adobe buildings, in soft colors. Here too the ochre, the orange, the red, the wooden beams seem to want to camouflage the human settlement with nature.

We begin our excursion from the central Plaza which hosts under its arcades dozens of artisans ready to sell their wares. The products on display are an indecipherable tangle of different cultures, stories and ethnicities. Just like those who sell them. In the faces of the people there are the proud features of the Aztecs, the European traits of the Spanish, or the indigenous ones of the natives.

The stroll continues to the Catholic Church of St. Francis of Assisi and then along the park that runs beside the Santa Fe River.

Tomorrow another outing in the city is planned so we decide to reach the hotel in Albuquerque, where we'll rest a bit also thanks to a fabulous outdoor hot tub.

For dinner we go to the Plaza of Old Town, the place where Route 66 heads toward all 4 cardinal points.

Central Street is lined with venues and neon signs and we stop to eat a hamburger at Kia, where they play live music.

The night of Albuquerque is about to begin, the UNM students pour into the streets, while we set course for the hotel to plan tomorrow's long day, the first without Route 66. [... to be continued]

Albuquerque and surroundings

Today is the first time since we've been on the road that we'll stay a second night in the same hotel, so we take it easy and go out at 10 to begin an excursion we invented ourselves.

After a stroll in the characteristic Old Plaza of Albuquerque, full of little shops and home to the first dwelling built in the city, dating back to 1707, we take the road north on highway 550: we intend to reach Los Alamos.

After a brief stop in San Ysidro and a few souvenir photos at the classic western-style church with white lime walls, we proceed crossing various lost pueblos, villages inhabited by natives where entry is forbidden to those who don't belong to the tribes.

We're crossing an area of the Rocky Mountains rich in Indian reservations, so much so that we see passing in order: Zia, Jemez, Santa Clara, San Juan, Nambe and Tesuque. The road nestles into the flanks of the mountains and at every turn it holds surprises for us, especially while crossing the Red Walk, a stretch characterized by the famous red rocks smoothed by the wind.

The Jemez park is surprising for how well-kept and perfectly equipped it is: rest areas for picnics, for camping or fishing, everything is perfectly organized and well-preserved.

We see the source of the Jemez River, the Battleship and the Camel Rock and glimpses of beautiful, wild nature.

Once in Los Alamos we stop to eat carne asada with tacos before visiting the museum dedicated to the atomic bomb.

Los Alamos is famous precisely for this reason: it's here that the secret Manhattan project took shape, and it's also here that the first nuclear device was tested.

The museum is rich in original historical and multimedia documents. There's the long chronicle of the construction of the H-bomb and, in parallel, of the course of World War II, up to the very harsh epilogue that unites the two paths: Hiroshima and Nagasaki.

We leave Los Alamos in silence, reflecting on war, on history and on a question read before leaving on the guest book: "But if the Japanese and the Nazis had had the H-bomb first, what would the world be like today?".

On the way back we stop again in Santa Fe and on the panoramic terrace of the La Fonda bar a good Margarita helps us leave these thoughts behind, just as we're leaving behind another long American day. After sunset we return to the city to dine at the 66 Diner, a true institution for those traveling the Road. The place was converted from an old service station and dates back to the 1940s. Inside everything recalls that era, even the waiters' clothing!

After the usual maxi bacon cheeseburger, we return to the hotel to dream of Arizona for the last time... from tomorrow we'll see it in person! [... to be continued]

Albuquerque - Holbrook (Km. 472)

We leave Albuquerque very early because, before reaching Holbrook, we intend to make two important stops.

The first is Gallup, famous because the Hollywood stars working on the sets of the old westerns filmed nearby loved staying at the El Rancho hotel. In Gallup, moreover, the night scenes of Natural Born Killers were filmed, one of our favorite movies, so we don't mind taking a stroll along the two main streets of the town.

Our guide had given an apocalyptic description of it, even placing it second in the world for neglect and social decay... after Calcutta! Obviously things aren't like that, in fact, the city is clean and full of shops. Never trust guides too much...

After the excursion, we continue to the second stop, the Petrified Forest and Painted Desert national park.

Entry is free on Saturdays and that's already a pleasant surprise, but never as much as those awaiting us in the next miles. There are about 50 km to drive within the park and following the map you can stop at the various viewpoints. We start from the Painted Desert where we witness a unique spectacle: the sediments of different minerals, in different eras have colored the rocks for miles and miles of desert. The sky and the light frame something impossible to describe. Then we stop at Teepee, where the hills are pinnacle-shaped and with their gray and red streaks resemble Navajo tents. At Teepee we rediscover something we're no longer used to: natural silence.

Then it's the turn of the settlement of Puerco Pueblo, rich in testimonies dating back to 1200 and rock paintings, so many that because of the many carved rocks this area has been renamed Newspaper Rocks.

The last stop is the Petrified Forest, a geological prank by which trees dating back millennia crystallized their trunks, turning to stone.

We're really tired and it's time to continue to Holbrook, but another emotion awaits us: it's almost sunset over the desert, the moon already shines high and the sun, opposite, lets itself be escorted below the horizon by two rainbows mirrored in its aura.

After a day like this you need a big steak at the Butterfield Stage, the most famous place in Holbrook for this dish. And since it's right next to our motel, we reach it on foot walking along Hopi Drive, amazed by the desolation surrounding us on an American Saturday night, and it's only 10 pm!

Back in the room we set our watches to the new time zone (-9 hours compared to Italy) and fall asleep knowing that what we saw today, already tomorrow will have to compete with a giant of spectacular views: the Grand Canyon.

This is America, this is Route 66.

Holbrook - Flagstaff (Km. 465)

Today we have to reach Flagstaff, but first we have an unmissable appointment: the visit to Grand Canyon National Park.

During the transfer we make two useless detours, the first in the insignificant and deserted Joseph City (I guess everyone was at mass...), the first Mormon community in Arizona; and the second at the rip-off attraction of Meteor Crater, the place where an enormous meteorite crashed leaving a crater of notable size.

Don't get me wrong, the overall view is very evocative but it's absolutely not worth the 15 dollars of admission. Oh well, these things happen when you insist on trusting guides too much or, worse, watch too many sci-fi blockbusters.

We head straight for the Grand Canyon and once in the park - at a cost of $25 per car - we're ready to drive the 30 miles of the South Rim starting from Mother Point.

It may sound obvious, but the impact with the overall view of the Canyon truly leaves you breathless. The landscape looks painted, the ridges are rugged and of different shapes and colors, the vegetation is bare and becomes more vivid and green as it approaches the waters of the Colorado River, which flows placid and blue 2200 meters below.

Every viewpoint gives us different glimpses and emotions: we see eagles flying free, the rapids of the river, we experience the thrill of leaning over to look at the sheer drop from rock outcrops off the trails and without railings.

Adrenaline flows in rivers and accompanies us for several kilometers. And so the various Grandview, Hopi, Moran, Lipan Point pass by, up to the Desert View tower which gives us the last sensational view. Here the Colorado River is much more visible than from all the other overlooks and the majesty of what we see is better understood thinking that some of the peaks in front of us, which seem so close... are actually over 60 kilometers away! We leave along the 64 South which gives us other impressive views: the road runs higher than the Canyon and so the gap is even more evident.

We arrive at the Days Inn in Flagstaff at 7 pm and after a shower we eat in the characteristic Galaxy 66.

We get the usual bacon cheeseburger but in the Californian version, that is with the guacamole variant as sauce, really excellent.

Flagstaff is very nice and gives the impression of being more sparkling than the previous stops. We're sorry not to be able to get to know it better but we're exhausted and fulfilled by a day we'll remember forever, so we return to the room to recover energy and focus on the next destinations, the last two on the road.

Flagstaff - Las Vegas

Our plan for today has Las Vegas, Nevada as its destination. We want to reach it in an original way, driving the longest historic stretch of Route 66 that exists: the one covering a good 160 miles in the heart of Arizona.

Along the way we encounter several very particular roadside localities, we should mention Seligman, Hackberry - where there's a truly unique store - and the sad Kingman, which looks like an open-air car cemetery. Right here we take the detour onto 93 North which will take us to the world capital of gambling.

First, though, we stop to admire the Hoover Dam, an imposing artificial dam on the waters of Lake Mead and the Colorado River. Another made-in-USA work that leaves us open-mouthed: not only did they build where it seemed impossible, they also made it into a tourist attraction with parking lots, museums and a visitor center. Las Vegas is behind the mountains and when it appears on the horizon we understand that reaching our hotel, the Stratosphere, won't be complicated. Its 300-meter tower is visible from many miles away.

We reach the room after wandering a bit in the lobby at the edge of the casino, designed to disorient, to make you lose your sense of space and time while playing at the tables or the slots. Before dinner we go for a hot tub at the pool, on the eighth floor. The pools are enormous, with game areas, giant screens, music and a movie-worthy set: in front of us the sunset over the Sierra Nevada and behind us the gigantic tower of the hotel. From 7 pm to 2 am we walk the entire Strip on foot, a walk of a few kilometers that is worth doing, from the Stratosphere to the Luxor! Among the hundreds of neon signs and attractions that make Las Vegas a unique city in the world, we're enchanted by how Circus Circus and the Wynn present themselves, by the live show of Treasure Island and by the imperial style of Caesar's Palace.

After the eruption of the Mirage volcano, we walk along the canals of the Venetian and crossing the Rialto Bridge we reach the perfect reproduction of St. Mark's Campanile.

Then we watch the water and light show of the elegant Bellagio and walk toward the Paris, which not only has a 50-meter Eiffel Tower and a scale Arc de Triomphe, it also has the stretch of sidewalk serving it in perfect Champs Elysees style!

In Las Vegas France and the USA are a few meters apart, and so, after the MGM, we arrive at the New York New York where we cross the Brooklyn Bridge and opposite the Statue of Liberty towering before the Manhattan skyline.

We conclude the tour taking the monorail that takes us from the Disney-esque style of the Excalibur to the oriental one of the Mandalay Bay, to close under the imposing pyramid of the Luxor. At 2 am a shuttle takes us back to the hotel, exhausted.

We conclude that in Las Vegas one should stay a bit longer, but the call of the road is strong and the last stop is just around the corner.

First, though, it will be the desert's turn... California, here we come!

Las Vegas - Los Angeles

We're at the end. Today is the day of the final leg that will take us from Las Vegas to Los Angeles, to Santa Monica to be precise.

After consulting the maps we decide to go back to the old Route, the new detour will cost us about a hundred extra miles but we won't regret it. Above all we can't end the journey without using the 66 again.

The stretch of Route connecting Arizona to California is definitely the most evocative and photographed since it's little used, also due to the condition of the road surface.

At Goff we exit from I-95 and begin crossing the Mojave desert, the landscape around has something unique and we stop several times to take photos of the 66 emblems painted on the asphalt.

We find several fascinating ghost towns, like Essex which comes complete with abandoned gas pumps, post office and signs creaking in the wind, just like in the movies! At Barstow we reconnect with I-40 which, once it becomes I-10, will put us into the enormous tangle of highways that announce the outskirts of L.A.

After San Bernardino the traffic gets more and more hysterical, frantic. We now have the quiet little towns of the heart of America behind us, now we're facing a colossal and hysterical metropolis, which immediately sucks us into the whirlwind of its rhythms. Finding our way isn't easy, but we're motivated and have the determination needed to complete our mission: reach the Pacific Ocean, exactly at the famous Santa Monica Pier, where what is by now "our road" ends.

We find the exit for Sunset Boulevard just as the sun is about to set and, after parking, we walk toward the intersection with Ocean Drive, the street that runs along the sea.

Before reaching the pier you have to cross a park, and it's here that we find the bronze plaque we were looking for: Route 66 Ending.

This time it's really over: after 16 days, 8 states, 11 cities, 3300 miles traveled (Km. 5285), we can say we made it.

It was a small feat that gave us so much, every day, from Chicago to the emotion of the Ocean, the ideal setting to end a legendary journey on a road that has been legendary since its construction.

Afterwards there's only time for a cigarette by the sea, lit with the last match left in the pack taken from Billy Goat, in Chicago, where it all began.

Afterwards we give ourselves a few minutes of silence, dedicated to personal reflections and we get back on the road to deliver the car at the airport.

And yes, after so many days of faithful service the moment has come to part with our travel companion, the Chevy Impala nicknamed "Impalina":)

The last hotel that will host us, the Angeleno, seems like a reward at the end of the trip: luxurious, tastefully furnished, with a 32-inch lcd, sliding doors with frosted glass, full of courteous and helpful staff, it's well above the average of the many hotels visited. And above all it has two enormous queen beds with soft mattresses a meter high!

What better place to rest after a feat like ours?

Los Angeles

The day to spend in Los Angeles is a gift we gave ourselves to relax a bit before returning to Italy.

And we have very clear ideas about what to do: spend the day at Universal Studios Hollywood. So, between close encounters with Shrek, Donkey, the Marvel characters and attractions like the Mummy, Jurassic Park, Back to the Future and the spectacular live shows of Waterworld and Backdraft, until 6 pm we experience the film industry as protagonists, a world made to help people dream.

After the park closes we go for some last shopping on the Walk of Fame, passing under the famous hill with the huge "Hollywood" sign, where we witness the red carpet for the premiere of Robin Williams' new film, at the spectacular Chinese Theatre.

We don't know when the film will come out in Italy, the title is "Man of the Year", and it had a great publicity setup. We saw starlets, actors (including William Hurt) and models parading on the red carpet, posing for the delight of hundreds of flashes. After witnessing the arrival of the star and seeing him play with the crazed crowd, we continued strolling as if it were a normal thing... after all we're in Hollywood and these things are normal, right?

Before returning to the hotel, we treated ourselves to the last American dinner based on... bacon cheeseburger and fries! Undoubtedly their, and now our, national dish!

But this time we also add a mega slice of chocolate cake, just to leave the USA with a sweet taste in our mouths...