Nathan Hall in the U.S. South July 2000

It's still ridiculously hot over here. I went on a brilliant day trip yesterday to a place called Wakulla Springs. We pulled into this beautiful parkland and up to this lodge house. Parked outside were three Classic American Yellow School buses. They really are icons -- classic designs. The sign outside the lodge had this surreal sign announcing "Henry the Pole Vaulting Fish". WHAT!? A mere appetiser for what was to come. We walked into the main water area and saw a huge party of school kids going berserk in this crystal clear water under a perfect blue sky, and I couldn't help imagining a parallel scene in Cardiff -- The River Taff full of confused School Kids wading around in suspiciously brown 'water' with a look of revulsion on their faces as they emerge covered in Sweet wrappers, duck stools, and algae plastered to their hair, yelling "Mummyyyyyyy!" before skidding off to the Heath Hospital for an appointment with Mr Hypodermic. Not quite the same. It must be quite magical and candy coated for kids of this age in this part of the world to experience these things.

Anyway, the swimming area was cordoned off by nets and to one side you had a atrangely dark looking pool of water fringed by trees. To the other side you had clear water with weird looking trees all around the banks and growing out of the water, draped in Spanish moss. The sort of "Dear god they've got faces and arms" type of trees that you wouldn't turn your back on at dusk. (You think I'm exaggerating). That was the first boat trip we took, and it was a real experience. We got to see dozens of alligators and turtles and birds of prey ridiculously close up. On one log was an alligator, a large turtle and a baby turtle forming a bizarre queue -- for what I have no idea. Maybe it was some strange "Who can eat who" parade. In any event it was so impressive. Like a classic tourist I was snapping away in wonderment, spinning from side to side of the boat, when the camera inadvertantly focussed on the back of the tourist at the head of the boat. I found myself suddenly distracted by an altogether more basic photographic instinct -- to capture one of many 'hilarious' double entendre shots. The bloke had a T-shirt on which it said "1998 Machine Gun Shoot". I was not impressed. Gun crazy meathead. However, the T-shirt carried it's own comeuppance for those in the know. The geographical location for this macho turd fest? "Knobville, KY"! I'm serious! You could not make it up. Much as i was in awe of the wildlife I was hell bent on capturing photographic evidence of his folly, but he kept turning around to snap animals (on his day off from strafing them, no doubt -- judgemental editor) and you'll sadly have to make do with this account.

By the way, the guide driving the boat was hilarious -- he spoke EXACTLY like that character in King of the Hill -- the one who's indecipherable. All I could make out from his commentary was (in an accent so thick you could build a new wing of Fort Knox with it) "Macon, Georgia...Ah fugive yuh..Turdle...Whoo Boy..Allagator...Bite yuh leg...G'bye now". Brilliant!

Geordies eat your hearts out! The guy was a walking Enigma Device.

The next trip was to the other "mystery" pool and I'll be damned if i know how to do justice to this one. We climbed into a glass bottomed boat and pootled off over the weed strewn water -- only about 2 feet deep. As we put putted along in tranquil motion, the guide, who had this really deep rich Southern accent said "Here we go folks -- 2 feet deep now -- see the little fishes comin' to greet us...That there's a Catfish -- he's safe from me -- ah never eat a fish that another fish turns his nose up at, hee heeeeee!...5 feet deep here we go folks...12 feet deep.. nice 'n' easy... 18 feet deep... and now 180 FEET DEEP!" as we suddenly drifted over a jagged precipice into an unbelievable crystal clear abyss

FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK ME!

Please, at this point, let me convey that I used to find the deep end drop off in the Cardiff Empire Pool from 5'6" to 12'6" harrowing. I'm a really good swimmer (feebly trying to claw back some pride) but water that's 6 feet deep (and preferably with ceramic tiles at the bottom) really is it for me, thankyou and goodnight. Luckily for my dignity, everyone in the boat made a huge theatrical gasp at exactly the same time, camoflaguing the fact that if the necessary devices such as microphones and oscilloscopes, and an uncharitable team of boffins had been on hand to isolate the noise I personally made, then they would probably have laughed cruelly and encouraged the other boattrippers to form a circle and point at me as they revealed to them that technically speaking my exhalation was on french kissing terms with a strangled scream.

It's at this point that the guide pointed out that this was where they filmed "The creature from the Black Lagoon" in 1956 and the underwater air crash sequence for "Airport 77." How cool is that? There were fish the size of steroid munching badgers swimming around and the guide said that divers had clawed there way through caverns at the bottom of the pool, to a distance of 3 miles underground (so far) in a bid to find the source. Oh please! Book me up on their next expedition! "Hey! Let's combine your terror of deep water with your propensity for claustrophobia! Eh, Nathan? Nathan! Nathaaaaaaaan!" (Three days later) "As we commit his body to the earth..."

It has to rank as one of the most incredible sights of my life -- especially when the guide pointed out a tree lying underwater, with a big hole in the trunk where, before it fell into the pool, bees used to live and the local Indians used to gather their honey. I'm sorry but how magical is that? No wonder Disney and Marvel Comics and Looney Tunes and Sci Fi B Movies all happened here -- the raw materials for the imagination are just staggering. Indians? Check! Bottomless crystal clear pools? Check! Watermelons and Pumpkin patches? Check! Alligators, Turtles, Armadillo's and Insect Symphonies? Check! Trees that look like they want to run after you? Check! Bloody Bizarre!

Then of course you turn on the TV and you see the downside -- the obsession with money markets; a QVC Home Shopping channel that makes our QVC channel look like a Particle Physics Seminar on the Open University; Squirm inducing earnest and cheerful adverts for genital herpes cream, pile ointment, and Free Psychic Readings (no doubt some company is offering all three -- "We guarantee you a scratch free connection -- and that's no phantom promise Heh! heh!") and no discernible quality control at all. (Launches off into predictable "Thank God for the BBC and Channel 4" rant).

Anyway, I 've seen an example of what's making the phenomenal noise outside Lori's house. Crickets! And the one I saw was not much bigger than Welsh ones. ("Oh I'm surprised to hear that, bach! What with their climate and all!" :A mild mannered welsh cricket from a 40's film, just before it's stepped on by a woman in a conical hat) .However, it's legs were about 3 times as sodding thick as it's Welsh counterpart, which accounts for why the noise each one makes, instead of being that reassuring comical whisking sound we're used to, is more like the sound of a Top Trump playing card attached to the back wheel of a Mountain Bike freewheeling down Cader Idris! And he's hanging out with oooh! Let me see! About A BILLION like minded chunky legged Jiminey fucking cricket choristers! And do they ever sleep? Have a guess!