Spotless

With New York now firmly in our sights, for the first time since we left the East coast we had the chance to revisit some of the people, places and sights we had left behind three months earlier. A new perspective altered by three months on the road would allow us to see these places in a fresh light and give a sense of symmetry to the end of the trip.

Our arrival in the New York vicinity also signalled the last week of the trip, and that meant facing up to a harsh reality: we would have to say good-bye to Spot. We'd been careful not to talk about the sale within ear-shot of our beloved AstroVan, but as the Big Apple's skyscrapers loomed into view on the horizon, Spot let out a telling anxious splutter...maybe he knew what was coming.

The plan (kept secret from Spot of course) was to find an out-of-town car dealer, sell Spot for a healthy sum and get a bus into New York, and lavishly spend our new riches in a final week blow out in New York. What could go wrong? In keeping with the idea of symmetry, we headed for a small town just outside NYC that held a real place in our hearts: Wayne.

We had first visited this glorified shopping mall as we prepared to pick up the 'Green Machine' for our first trans-continental traverse back in September. The Ramada hotel had provided a base of operations in Wayne for a couple of days spent exploring the mega-mall, cinema and the brilliantly tacky 'Cheeseburger in Paradise' restaurant that adjoined the hotel. We had spent a couple of unexpectedly brilliant nights in this beach-themed burger/cocktail bar, meeting a good deal of the friendly staff in the process.

As we rolled into the hotel's parking lot, we experienced a weird sense of deja-vu that would become familiar over the next week; entering the hotel lobby was like walking into a distant memory. We checked into our home away from home, and in a haze of nostalgia, headed into our beloved paradise of cheeseburgers. Unbeknownst to us, the original night that we'd spent propping up the bar had gone down in Cheeseburger history - not least due to Jeff and Dawn's biker marriage going on that night (their names are still on a sign outside the hotel!) The familiar face of Lexi the barmaid greeted us - instantly breaking into a disbelieving grin and exclamation of “you guys came back!”. A few brief traveller's tales followed, punctuated by cameos from other staff members who showed a charming interest in our adventure! We suspect from the interest in us that not much happens in Wayne!

With Spot's sale in mind, we took advantage of our last few hours of van ownership by bundling our pick of the bar's staff into the back, doing our best to hold back the tears as we took pictures of Spot’s last guests under our ownership. Feeling like road-tripping superstars, we called it a night, reflecting on an amazing reception in Wayne and contemplating the heartbreak of the next day.

We hit the road early, hoping to make a quick sale, aiming to be in a bar using Spot’s retirement funds to fuel a drinking session of mourning/ celebrating within hours. After a morning of fruitless and demoralizing searching, we put the Champagne on ice. The best result we had managed so far was Ronnie's Car and Truck sales - literally the dodgiest looking outfit we could find. We rolled up to Ronnie's shack which was surrounded by rusting cars, already picturing ourselves walking away clutching a satisfying wad of cash.

We proudly flaunted our van’s most desirable features (wheels, engine, doors), we waited for Ronnie to demand the keys and shower us in cash. From the man's facial expression and ominous silence, he was either stunned by the sheer quality of our vehicle, or he was looking for a way to get rid of us. Unfortunately it turned out to be the latter. After some desperate negotiating, it became apparent that we couldn't even give Spot away for free. Ronnie was good enough however to give us the address of some other dealers in the area.

After we'd cruised past several shiny official looking garages, we found what we were looking for: a run-down cabin surrounded by clapped out motors. This looked like our kind of place. Unconvinced after so many disappointing experiences, we trudged towards the dilapidated office. Dave, (classic trustworthy name) the patron of 'Automotive Handlers Inc.' took a cursory glance of our fine machine and delivered his verdict:

"This ain't worth a lot, fellas. I'll give you 300." 

We launched into spontaneous high fives, followed by hysterical shrieking and finally sobbing uncontrollably while hugging Dave! Completely unfazed by the horrendous loss we were making, we snapped Dave's hand off. There was one remaining complication: we didn't actually have the ownership title papers for our vehicle. Dave seemed unconcerned, we made arrangements for the paperwork to be sent the breadth of the country on an overnight delivery with the plan to return once it had arrived and collect the cash. It was the ultimate result - we had a guaranteed buyer for the van, and had Spot for one last weekend! By this point however, Spot was no longer talking to us. We don’t blame him.