My friend Willie grew up in London . I asked him if he’d seen the London Bridge . ” In London “, he said . So we spent a couple of years thinking about making a road trip to Lake Havasu , Arizona , to see the bridge . It had been shipped over , stone by stone , to this remote desert city in the 1970s . Isn’t it amazing 1. that someone in London would think about selling the sinking bridge , and 2. that someone would buy it and rebuild it in an isolated Arizona town ?
We talked about it all , Willie , Nancy , Ada and I , over breakfast at Uncle Kenny’s Restaurant in Havasu . ” The locals eat there “, the woman at the motel had told us . The eggs and hash were good . The place was crowded . There was another suggestion for breakfast at a place on the other side of the bridge . We had dinner across the bridge the night before . We were staying at the Bridgewater Motel near the bridge . There was a twenty year old aerial photo of the Bridgewater Motel and the London Bridge in the reception area of the motel and nothing else was around other than desert . Nowadays the area is crowded with roads and motels .
We had stopped at the Bagdad Cafe in Newberry Springs east of Barstow for lunch on our way to Arizona . The place is on a lonely stretch of the old Route 66 . It’s been cult -famous since the movie Bagdad Cafe , from 1987 .
. Lots of devotees pilgrimage there from all over the world , especially France . The Bagdad Cafe has a thick guest book where hundreds of pilgrims have written their adoring comments . We were the only customers on the Saturday we were there . The man working the table called back into the kitchen : ” Better light the grill “. We had our momentary doubts , but they served a good lunch and we were happy that we stopped by .
Ada and I were in Lake Havasu a few years ago . The idea to go there to see the bridge had been an afterthought . We were headed back from the casinos in Laughlin , Nevada . I suggested a short side trip . Summer . The ride through the desert wasn’t short . Don’t go to Havasu in the summer . The temp must have been 120 . We got out of there quick after a hurried look at the bridge . It was too hot even to consider taking a dip in the lake .
A man at the Bridgewater Motel told Willie that the place is full of snow birds in the winter and that a younger crowd takes over in the summer . We were sharing Havasu with the snow bird crowd . We would have fit in , except that we hadn’t come from snow .
On our trip home we detoured to Kelso , deep in the Mojave . Kelso is now just a train station . The station is a museum now and a cafe . A freight train went by just as we arrived . The tracks climb a steep hill moving northwest up toward Nipton and Baker .