Sedona to Copenhagen

I’m writing this somewhere over Holland, on my flight back to Denmark from London. I only just made it. I saw my gate closure time as my flight time, so went from terminal 5 at Heathrow to terminal 2, only to find out that my flight actually went from terminal 5. Terminal 5 is really big and long and I had to take off my shoes (sandals) to leg it all the way to the gate. I made it. Sweaty, but on board.

My flight from Phoenix went remarkably well. It left at 7.40pm, which is perfect because it means you can drink without feeling too guilty. I had four mini bottles of wine, watched Bad Neighbors, and Maleficent then promptly fell asleep to Calendar Girls. I woke up with 54 minutes left! Outstanding. I’m not sure how well I’ll fare tonight when I try to sleep, but what the hell. Flights are so dull.

I can see the fields below me, very, very flat, and so very different from where I was this morning. Or yesterday, rather. You know, it’s a good thing we can’t teleport. You need the time to adjust. Apart from the inevitable physical problems the emotional shock would be huge. It’s far better to ease yourself into your normal life through the airport, on the flight, seeing clothing, faces, and habits similar to your own than to jump instantly from there to here. I feel a bit daft as it is, wearing shorts, sandals and a t-shirt (I didn’t think to pack a jumper), on a flight full of businessmen. 

It’s back to reality today, even though it started somewhere so very different (I never get used to waking up in one country and going to bed in another, even if it is split over two days as it is now). I slept really well last night. There’s been enough of a breeze for me to have my window open at night, and Sedona is so safe (people don’t lock their doors when they go away), I wasn’t remotely worried about uninvited guests. I woke up around 7, showered, and went for breakfast. I had fruit and toast, to be different, and then hit the road. I had to be at the airport at 5.40pm, so lots of time to do things. 

So long, you beautiful placeBye tree

First stop was Montezuma’s Castle. It has nothing to do with Montezuma and it’s not really a castle, but it is cool. It was built somewhere between 1100 and 1300 by the Sinagua people, but was thought to be Aztec in origin by early American settlers (I'm not sure why), hence the name. Of course, back in the days, visitors were allowed to climb and explore, but now it's all closed off. Why anyone would want to climb a ladder up there is beyond me. 

I should mention that it was the fantastic Theodore Roosevelt who was responsible for many of the national parks in America. He, "created five national parks (doubling the previously existing number); signed the landmark Antiquities Act and used its special provisions to unilaterally create 18 national monuments, including the Grand Canyon; set aside 51 federal bird sanctuaries, four national game refuges, and more than 100 million acres' worth of national forests." Huzzah for Teddy!

You know what’s really crazy? Around the same time they were building this, the French were finishing Notre Dame en Paris (1250) The two civilisations were so impossibly different, I don’t think it’s possible to call one more civilised than the other. America is such an interesting country. So old, but so very young. Wow, that was deep. 

In the leaflets I was given, I read about Montezuma Well, a natural sinkhole right here in Arizona. Well I never. It required a bit of a backtrack, but I had time so I did it. It was very nice. Not quite as blue as I imagined (I think I was thinking of Belize), but still very cool nonetheless. It's home to at least five endemic species: a diatom, a springtail, a water scorpion, an amphipod, and a leech. Crazy! Needless to say this was a popular spot back in the day, and there are remains of houses from 1050 built around the water. 

There’s even an ad for a Phoenix photographer scrawled on the side from 18-something. You know how I feel about those 1800 chaps.

I take my time looking at the scenery, knowing I should relish it while I can. I meander back to the car, and smell the flowers as I go. I really do this, I’m not getting all romantic on you. They just smell really good. 

On the way back to the road I pass an antiques shop that has a lot of old stuff outside (as antique shops are wont to do).

There’s a lot of 50s Americana stuff and I can’t resist. I pull over and spend a good 40 minutes nosing through it all. From bison heads to toilets and from bullets to bottles, they’ve got just about everything. I buy two things; an old number plate for the boy that says 'The Kid', and a shoehorn in the shape of a Longhorn for me. The wife isn’t here to stop me so she’ll just have to suck it up. Besides, we need one.  As I’m paying the toothless old man tells me all about his foot, and how he keeps going to the doctor and paying $45 each time only for them to say ‘I don’t know’. I feel bad when I tell him I’m from England and decide not to mention the NHS.

Next stop is Tonto Natural Bridge. It’s a natural bridge, obviously, and the world’s largest travertine (a form of limestone) bridge at that. At least, they think it is. I can’t find it on the GPS but can see on my map that it’s on my way, so just head in the general direction and trust I’ll see signs. 

I head through Strawberry, and remember Arizona’s oldest schoolhouse is there, so I divert quickly. It’s closed, but it’s still nice to look at.

A short drive on is Pine, where I stop for some lunch at a completely random place, where everyone looks at me when I swing through the saloon doors. They’re friendly though, so I sit down and order a fish sandwich and salad (if I want the salad over the fries, I have to pay $1.50 extra. Go figure). Mel, the waitress, runs around asking the men how their wives are and how the farms are doing, calling me ‘sister’ and the others ‘hon’ and ‘darlin’’. 

A little while later and there’s a sign for this bridge thing. I’m almost the only one there, which is odd, but quite nice too. I take the longer hike, which isn’t so bad at all, and end up under the bridge. It’s quite something, I’ll give them that. Very cool to stand underneath and look out both sides. 

I can see rain, lots of it, in the distance, so decide to just push on out to the airport and take my time.

I pack up my bag, change, and then hit the road. I listen to Radiohead and get all sad, so turn on the country radio. Much better.  

I drive into the rainstorm and it’s terrifying. Driving in monsoon rain isn’t fun and I have to pull over. After a short break I head back out, luckily the roads are practically deserted so I can drive nice and slow. It’s an incredible amount of rain and I wish I could take photos, but I’m genuinely worried about driving so I grip the wheel and peer out into the wet grey outside. Eventually I pass through it, and although it’s still raining, the worst is behind me. Now the hills are coated with a blue-grey mist and look beautiful. 

Last time I drove to Phoenix Airport I was terrified – the motorways were about 6 lanes across and jam-packed with cars, but this time, things are a lot quieter. I suppose I’m coming in from a different direction. In no time at all, I’m back at Avis, emptying the car and getting ready to head to the airport. I almost feel sad leaving the car. Sounds daft, I know, but it somehow feels too quick. It’s been quite a ride, even if the best part of it all was by foot. 

It feels like yesterday I was going the other way. The dust storm was nearing and I was full of anticipation about what the coming days would deliver. Where did the time go? 

I’ll miss Arizona as I always do. I’ll miss the towering saguaro, the red sand that gets everywhere, the jagged mountains and the canyons so deep they literally gouge back to the beginning of time. I’ll miss the dust storms, the monsoon rains, the booming thunder and the desert sun. But it’ll all be there next time. I’m just not sure when next time will be. I do know that next time there’ll be three of us. Perhaps I’ll drop the wife off at a yoga retreat and throw my boy on a hoss. Give him a lasso and let him ride ‘em, cowboy. Or perhaps I’ll take them all to the Grand Canyon and force them to hike it, just a little bit. Maybe we’ll go to Monument Valley, and watch the most powerful sunset in the world. Or we could go to Tombstone and the little young gun could see how the west was won. Whatever we do, and whenever we do it, we’ll be together, a little unit, a family, and really, that’s all that matters.  

Flagstaff to Sedona

On my bed in the Star Motel in Sedona, with a programme about Theodore Roosevelt on. I recently read a book about ol' Teddy. He was a great man. I mean, he was a man. I can highly recommend it, even if you don't really know anything about him. I didn't. I was inspired to read it (and this is a little embarrassing), by Parks and Recreation and How I Met Your Mother. Random, yes, but definitely with a happy ending. 

Anyway! Sedona. Wow. After waking up at some stupid time this morning (probably 4.30), and then managing to fall back asleep, I woke up at 7.15am. Lovely. After a lazy morning in bed with CNN, computer, and Skype, I checked out and went for a good breakfast. Lots of coffee, eggs and bacon, and some oatmeal for good measure later, and I was on my way to Sedona. 

I've driven through Sedona twice. I wasn't particularly impressed either time, to be honest, but knowing you can't judge anything from the main drag, I had decided to give it a good go. After all, all I hear about is how beautiful it is. 

I arrived after the scenic drive from Flagstaff too early to check in, so dump my stuff in the car and head out on foot to explore uptown Sedona. It's essentially a tourist haven. In fact, all the city survives on is tourism. Something like 4 million people come here a year, but only 10,000 live here. It's a good looking city though. In the 80s, they decided you couldn't build houses more than two stories high, and in fact, you just couldn't build any more houses. What's more, your house has to blend into the landscape, so you've only a certain select palate to choose from when painting your house. It might all sound rather strict, but is in fact a stroke of genius, if you ask me. The city complements the surrounding scenery so well, than from a distance it's actually quite hard to see. It's fantastic. 

The drag is a little different. It's full of shops all selling the same thing, more or less. I did buy some things. In fact, I bought America. 

Tell me you don't want that t-shirt. Tell me. 

It's not the most amazing city judging from the main street, but is any city? The people were very friendly though, I'll give them that. Genuinely friendly. I felt welcome. After a light lunch, I decided to go for a little hike, because you know, the last four days weren't enough. I found a short one, and drove out to Chimney Rock. There was a short and easy hike to do, so out I set.

I got lost, of course, but had my bearings so found my way back with no problem. It was very beautiful, and gave me my first taste of Sedona as it really is. I also decided to climb the hill tomorrow. 

From there I hit The Chapel of the Holy Cross, a really rather cool chapel built into the rock. 

The chapel was inspired and commissioned by local rancher and sculptor Marguerite Brunswig Staude, and with the help of her pal Frank Lloyd Wright, the chapel was finished in 1956.

It's quite beautiful, and I think very Frank Lloyd Wright (I went to visit one of his houses in Phoenix last year).

The stairs

I talk to the parking guy for a bit about Scotland's potential independence, and then head back to the motel. I've got a jeep tour booked for 4pm, and need to get my stuff together. 

A view from the chapel. That big round house is owned by the man who has the patent on laser eye surgeryAnother view from the chapel. I don't know who owns what house

It's a bit touristy doing the jeep tour (with Pink Jeep Tours), but what they heck: I'm a tourist. We're a group of 6, and we head out towards the Mogollon Rim (an escarpment defining the southwestern edge of the Colorado Plateau - as Wikipedia tells me).

It's a bumpy ride, and it ends with a splendid view of Sedona. Burt, our guide, tells us about how the rocks were formed, and the overall history of the area. He also mentions how religious people sometimes question the age thing, saying the world is only 6000 years old. I'm happy to see we all have a good laugh at this. 

From the rim, we head down and up a trail that only Pink Jeep Tours has access to. It's a very, very bumpy ride, up and down 45° hills, and over huge boulders. It's great. We head to Submarine Rock, a huge bump of a rock that rises up out of of the ground, just below the Mogollon Rim, overlooking the city. It's absolutely gorgeous. This, this is what Sedona is about. 

We wander, and stare. Wander and stare. There's a good storm in the distance, and lightning occasionally flashes down.

Thunder roars, but there's no rain. Just good clouds. A rainbow appears as we head on to Mushroom Rock, a rock formation jutting out above Submarine Rock. It's lovely. 

We head back just as the rain starts. If I'm honest, I could have skipped the rim bit, and just done Submarine Rock. It was really very beautiful.

However, we all get out, full of smiles, and head our separate ways. I head towards the Cowboy Club on the main drag, and eat a great meal of burger, beans, and peach pie. I also had a good IPA and a bourbon, just because. 

What a great day. I've completely changed my mind about this place, and can't wait to explore a bit more tomorrow. A good hike, and a driver out to the airport mesa, supposedly very cool. 

Time will tell. For now, it's back to dear Teddy. 

Holbrook to Flagstaff

I've just got home after watching some American football. How anyone manages to stay awake for that is beyond me. I mean, it stops every minute while they...discuss something. I watched the same play (?) 8 - eight - times while they discussed stuff (and by they I mean...I'm not sure what I mean. I only know nothing was going on on the pitch (?)). I feel like I've watched slow-mo, fully-clothed, gay soft-porn. There was a lot of fumbling. My God. I have no idea what the rules are but it appears they can do anything. Is that dude jumping to catch the ball? Wait until he's in the air then shove him out the way. From what I gather, every time they drop the ball the game stops. As there's a lot of dropping the ball, the game stops and starts a lot. A lot. What's that about? Why not just pick it up and keep going? I've no idea. Anyway, it was Arizona against San Diego tonight, so it was everywhere. It's probably not over yet. It might not be over until tomorrow they way they were carrying on. Anyway. I'm way ahead of myself...

Holbrook. I should add that Holbrook is on a stretch of Route 66, hence me thinking it's very Route 66. In fact, Arizona has the longest stretch of Route 66. Most of it is now a 6-lane interstate, but there are parts that are still single-lane, and flanked by motels and diners, such as Holbrook. It's really very charming. Anyway, I only woke up once last night, at 3...ish. I managed to fall asleep after a while and didn't wake up until 6.18am! Goodness me. 

I went for breakfast in the motel, and had a boiled egg and the biggest bagel I've ever seen. I also had lots of good coffee. The Americans know coffee, I'll give them that. 

It's rained during the night, and the sky is heavy and grey. I don't mind so much as it's still very warm, and rain always clears the air. I head out at 8.15am towards Winslow. Now, if you're an Eagles fan, you'll know where I'm headed. If you're not, listen to this song. There, on the corner, is a flatbed Ford. It's perfectly kitsch. I'm incredibly aware of myself as I take a photo. Oh well. I'm just a tourist, who am I kidding. I head to a shop and buy something for my unborn son. I know the wife will hate it, but tough. I'm caught up in the Americana of it all. 

I walk down the street and again, find myself pulled towards a diner even though I only ate breakfast an hour or so ago. I really only want coffee, but end up having bacon and eggs. And coffee. It's lovely. From there I hit La Posada hotel. This, I'm told, is considered the pinnacle of southern architecture. It's really very nice, but I'm afraid I'm not the right audience. What is interesting though is it's history; it's a Harvey hotel, run by Harvey girls. You see, back in the 1920s, the railroads ruled America. Fred Harvey, an Englishman no less, realised that there weren't any decent food and sleep stops at the many stations across the country, so set about changing that. He opened up restaurants and hotels in 12 states (I think), that to begin with were staffed by men, as was the norm back then. However, the men soon proved to be too drunk/rude/messy, so he took the incredibly drastic decision to hire women. This turned out to be a very good idea, and the women, a really rather unique group back then, became known as Harvey Girls. La Posada was said to be the finest of Harvey's hotels, and one of the most popular. Winslow was a real hub back then. Everything Arizona had to offer was (is) relatively close by, and both rail and road (66) passed through. It was a completely different place. Although it was only open for 27 years, everyone who was anyone stayed there, like Shirley Temple, Charles Lindbergh (who also designed Winslow's airport), Bob Hope, Howard Hughes, John Wayne, President Franklin Roosevelt, President Harry Truman, Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhart, and The Crown Prince of Japan. Phew. It's all pretty cool, and yeah, it's not hard on the eyes either. I feel like I should also mention the architect, Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter, who was also pretty revolutionary at the time, given that she was an architect and a woman to boot. All these women. 

A room of sorts

So after a bit of wandering, I hit the road. I'd spent about two hours at Winslow, far more than I originally intended, so I wasn't really sure where I was going or what I should do. I ended up heading towards Second Mesa in the Hopi (an American Indian tribe) Reservation.

I've not been here before and it's very beautiful. Long roads. Really, really long, straight roads. Not much going on at all, but all the more lovely for it. 

By the time I hit the T-junction that gives me the possibility of heading straight to Flagstaff, my ultimate destination for today, or Page in the other direction, I've decided to head to Page. After all, there's burgers and Horseshoe Bend, and who doesn't want to see Horseshoe Bend? First though, I pay Slackers my annual visit. It’s a nondescript place and you really wouldn’t expect much out of it, but aren’t the best places often like that? For three years now this place has served me the best burger I’ve had. It’s big, it’s juicy, it’s simple, and by God, is it tasty. I had a twist on my usual half-pound cheeseburger with fries, and went for the half-pound cheeseburger with bacon – no fries. It was delicious, and over too quickly.

I head on to Horseshoe Bend, which is every bit as wonderful as ever, and after a walk and some photos, I find a nook and sit for a while. It's very peaceful, and while still overcast, very warm. I love it here. It's got to be one of my favourite places on earth. I find it very similar to - this will sound weird - some places on the west coast of Scotland. I think it has to do with the emptiness of it all. The aloneness. One might be hot, dry and in the American desert, the other, cold, mostly wet, and on the coast of Scotland, but ultimately, the feeling is the same. They give you space to think, which is always a good thing. I think lots of things, mostly about up and coming son, and how life will be afterwards. 

Strata, dude

But, there's only so much thought in me and I soon realise that if I want to get to Flagstaff at a decent time, I should get going. So I do. Through flat plains, red rock and green forests, and all the way to lovely Flagstaff.

It's great here, it really is. It's so damn chilled. The beer scene is outstanding. I bought 6 craft beers for $10. That's 57 DKK, or £6.21. You can barely get a bottle or a pint for that much back home. I had to get six because of the price. You know how it is. Anyway, people are friendly, the buildings are great, and beer is cheap. Did I say that already?

I eat, watch some NFL, have a wander, and here I am. I'm staying up a bit later tonight as I can have a lie in tomorrow. I'm going to explore Flagstaff tomorrow, something I've been wanting to do for years. Lots to see and do. 

Until then. 

Arizona won, by one point.