As you can see this week we went to the London Bridge. Which naturally means we were in… LLLLake Havasu, Arizona. Yep A little trivia for ya. If anyone ever asks, “Where’s London Bridge?” It’s a trick question. It would seem to be in London, but it was in fact moved to Lake Havasu in the late 60’s to 1971(it took a while to rebuild it). Funny thing is I was in Lake Havasu for a job, but didn’t stop in and see the bridge. This time we got to walk around and see it.
Is it a tourist trap? You betcha. But not so bad as you’d think. Yes, there’s a gift shop, but it isn’t like there’s a ton of London Bridge branded stuff outside of a couple of gift shops. As a heads up, no London bridge doesn’t have those tall towers. That’s called Towers Bridge(imagine that), and it remains in London. On the bridge itself are the bullet holes from German fighters strafing the bridge. Yes, every brick on the outside was placed exactly as it was in it’s original spot. Brick by brick.
They managed that by numbering every single brick as it was being disassembled. They painstakingly numbered every one. It’s been quite a while, and most of the numbers are lost, but there are a few bricks left with the numbers on them. All this just to create a town out of a deserted nothingness. Yes, the whole purpose of bringing the London Bridge to Arizona was to create a tourist attraction. But it is definitely cool to see.
If you’re like me, and like to get a feel for history though, it’s still worth it. The bridge is still the bridge. The lamps are still there. They were made from the melted down cannons from Napoleon’s defeat at Waterloo. So it’s nice to actually get a feel for something that existed before there was a “New World” that’s been dragged all the way around to our neck of the woods. The first day we got to see it and the weather was cloudy, and kinda cool. Heh… Good London weather?
Our camp site was actually Cattail Cove State Park(yep still Arizona). Aside from the spot being harder to pull into than it should have been(as evidenced by a rather testy individual telling me just to park it at the boat dock). Our spot turned out to be rather pretty. We ended up meeting our neighbors the next morning, and by the evening we were all hanging out by their fire.
Honestly, this is what we got into RVing for. We could camp anywhere. But what makes it fun is a bunch of people hanging out by the fire, and getting to know each other. There were the young couple who were there for a bit of R&R from their jobs as police officers. There was the family of five who’s kids were funny, but didn’t quite understand that after the ranger tells you, “You have to be quiet” that yelling “COOL!” at the top of your voice is not the best idea. To be fair to the kids, the ranger had to remind us “adults” that we had to be quiet… multiple times… Of course everyone who would have complained about it was sitting there at the fire, or locked in their armored vehicle…
We had wanted to take the boat out but the chop was pretty bad, and there were a ton of power boats out. Saturday was far too windy to put our little boat in the water. We’d have ended up capsized or flooded. Sunday was less windy, but everyone was in town for the boat race that was supposed to happen Saturday, but didn’t. That’s when we decided to take the Copper Canyon Boat tour.
Like all good things this weekend had to come to an end. And we were unable to convince ourselves that a 3 hour drive in the wee hours of the morning would work out well… So we had to say goodbye to our RV neighbors, and pack up to leave. The ride home was too quick, but we did get a stunning view on our way out. We had a great time, and strangely enough, I can’t remember anything specific about the campground being special, other than the people we shared it with. Maybe the campground was just such that it stayed out of the way of letting people meet up and have a great time.