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We are all ensconced in what feels like a secret house in Bluff, part of the estate of the Recapture Lodge which is highly recommended by LP. This charming old house is situated off the main road through Bluff, in what seems to be a quiet part of this rather intriguing town. The Adams House, as it is called, has four bedrooms, ample beds, a well equipped kitchen, and all sorts of other generous amenities. We were offered it for a very reasonable price for just one night, when we called to try to book rooms at the Lodge for our unusual combination of adults and children: it sounded perfect for our needs, and now we are wishing we had planned our trip to stay here for another night. We have arrived at Monument Valley in the dark, but we have made out the shadows of immense rocky bluffs and can't wait for sunrise to see what can be seen.The Adams House was probably built in about 1895, in the Utah "box style". Around this time, Bluff was in transition from a community of 25 families living in log cabins into a relatively prosperous little town complete with sandstone public buildings. The new found prosperity came from the livestock business and Mr Frederick Joseph Adams who built this house in his twenties (and then died of typhoid while away on business at the age of twenty-nine leaving his wife with three children) made his money in livestock trading. It has been restored to make a very comfortable, spacious house, with rocking chairs in every room and on the back porch. American living!! It costs $700.00 per week to rent for 4 adults with a surcharge of a few additional dollars per night for any extra adults, children go free. There are 3 rooms with double beds, and one room with a double bed plus a single bed.Friday morning seems a long time ago. As soon as I got up, I checked the web on my netbook, and discovered that there were no car hire companies operating in Holbrook, and alerted Chidi and Kate to this hitch in our plans. We decided that Kate and I should make a dash back to good old Show Low, 47 miles down the road: this plan would have various advantages: Chidi could complete the essay he is writing for a course he is undertaking (while the girls could be indulged with TV, a very very rare treat), and it would give James and Oksy time to have a small sleep in and then a leisurely breakfast at Denny's which is just across the car park. This plan worked perfectly: we met the mechanic who leads a team of two other mechanics, all like him, a bit aged with straggly grey ponytails, but salt of the earth Republicans, so far as we were concerned. They had located a second hand fuel tank at less than half the price of a new one, and would have the car fixed some time after Easter. Plus they fixed Kate's headlight for free. From there we drove to Hatch Toyota (the only company that seemed to have readily available cars for rent, but nevertheless gave us a really good deal). Here we picked up a nice metallic green Toyota Corolla, which I drove back to Holbrook with Kate leading the way. As soon as we arrived we got packed up and ready to drive to Petrified Forest National Park. Our jinx struck again, and this time the Ford refused to start. James, Oksy and I set off for Petrified Forest leaving Kate, Chidi and the girls to sort it out agreeing that we would rendezvous in Bluff.
Later we learned that our friendly mechanics were called, and advised them to knock the engine with a hammer to get it started: they supplied a hammer, and marked the correct spot with some white paint. I remember doing the same thing to get a car started in Nigeria: it seems a hilarious solution but it does work.
The Painted desert and the Crystal forest were amazingly beautiful. We drove through stopping at most of the "pull-ups" or viewpoints, futilely trying to capture the subtle colours and formations in digital pictures. There isn't any need for me to delve into the background, as it is all so well written up and photographed elsewhere. It is definitely a "must-see" if you come this way, and there are trails around the crystal forest you can walk, though we didn't fully explore them for lack of time. I learnt later that some of the trails lead past petroglyphs, but most people don't know where they are and don't get to see them (see later for our source of information). James mapped me on to our next journey stage - straight up the I 191 via Chinle township to Bluff. It was late afternoon by now, and I drove up a very straight, deserted road with wild, empty Navajo country on all sides. We made excellent time, and decided to stop off at the supermarket at Chinle which serves the Navajo community, full of locals doing their weekend shop. We trailed around picking up various survival foodstuffs for Bluff (no alcohol as we were on a reservation, and possibly none in Utah!) as we knew that we were transiting from Arizona time to MST, and therefore things might well be shut up by the time we got to Bluff. As we turned a corner of the supermarket aisles preparing to check-out, there was Chidi with Zaria: they had just made Chinle and had the same idea: a happy reunion. We pooled our groceries which now included two large roast chickens and some big heads of lettuce, and set off for Bluff in convoy. The next stage of our journey was along increasingly dramatic and beautiful wild country, and as the darkness set in, the drama and desolation increased. In under two hours we were driving from the deep darkness into the scattered but welcoming lights of Bluff: we arrived at Recapture Inn, collected our house key, quickly bought beer from a place across the road just as they were closing up, and got into the Adams House to enjoy the beer, chicken and lettuce before retiring to bed at about 11:00 pm.
PS very sporadic wireless here so no pictures at first, and no spell checking...
We set off in good time for our trip to Petrified Forest, Monument Valley and Canyon de Chelly with the goal of sleeping at Holbrook AZ our first night away. First we stopped off at South Cottonwood Lane to drop Kate's two miniature turtles with Jean and Barbara. Then we set off in good form, with Chidi, Oksy and James in the Toyota Avalon, and Kate, me and the two girls in the Ford. We intended to travel straight up to Globe on the I 77, but somehow missed the turn-off and ended up going along a smaller byway via Coolidge and Florence AZ - truly the back of beyond, but remember Coolidge, it came up later in the day. Florence is an unexpectedly charming historical little place more so than Globe which has a greater reputation as a 19th century mining centre. After Florence the scenery became very spectacular as we travelled across beautiful Arizona "desert" scenery with the distant rim of mountains ahead of us and the subtle colours of the mesquite, the saguaro, and other drought loving plants, the occasional drift of flowers, and the various shades of rock. As we rose up from the desert plains, we passed through very dramatic scenery such as Devil's Canyon, and to our delight, had to wait for a few minutes while road makers did some blasting ahead of us (they are widening an old bridge across a chasm). Then on to Globe where we found a picnic table by the road in front of the old railway station, and ate our sandwiches, and large cold slices of water melon. Despite our slight detour, we were making excellent time, and expected to arrive Holbrook in time for a short visit to the Petrified Forest before supper. We started the next phase of our journey winding through the amazing scenery of the Apache White Mountain Reservation - you have seen many of these ridges and peaks in films I am quite sure. The road snakes up and down the mountain sides with hairpin bends, and vertigo inducing views at every hand until you cross Salt River and rise again towards the town of Show Low (do look it up as it has a quixotic history). A rock fall was our downfall - through some unusual freak of bad luck an unseen rock on the road pierced the Avalon's fuel tank under the car, about half way between Globe and Show Low; we all stopped at the next pull out to see what we could do. The answer was absolutely nothing - not even duct tape could staunch the deluge of petrol. Worse, in the middle of this wild stretch of country, our mobile phones did not work. Luckily a passer by had a mobile that did work and we were able to call AAA for roadside assistance. It was obvious that the car would have to be towed and that it was just a matter of a long wait. We decided that Chidi, James, Oksy and the girls should take the Ford and press on for Holbrook to get our night's accommodation sorted out, while Kate (whose name is on all the car documentation and AAA membership) and I would wait for the tow truck, get the car to Show Low and then find our way to Holbrook in the evening. Unfortunately it took ages for the AAA truck to arrive, well over two hours (we learned from the driver that he had not been busy and had only been called at 4:00 pm, whereas we had called AAA before 3:00 and advised that it would take about an hour for them to arrive). One good old guy from Coolidge who passed by and double backed to see if we needed help, gave us the direction to a AAA accredited repair place in Pine Top a few miles East of Show Low, and advised us to be off the White Mountain Apache reserve by nightfall, as it wasn't safe - a touch of the old Apache fears! Good thing Chidi hadn't heard that. It turned out that Dan as he was called, had attended Kate's school in the 1960's and we all bonded with hugs on his eventual departure and many admonitions about our safety. Anyway the long and the short of it is that Kate and I managed to drop the car off at the recommended place which was of course shut by the time we got their at about 6:45, and then hitched a ride with our AAA truck driver (who I am sure was a Mormon reugee as he was a sad, gentle creature with no teeth at all in his head, from Utah, now settled at Globe) back to Show Low where we waited for Chidi to collect us - he had to drive back the 47 miles from Holbrook to collect us, but after such an event we all wanted to be together again. While Chidi searched high and low for us at Show Low (Mobiles were still not working for us remember!) Oksy and James did sterling work caring foir Zaria and Freya at the Best Western Hotel in Holbrook. At last we arrived to find the babies sleeping happily in the hotel. Kate and I hit a bottle of Prosecco we had stashed in the cold box, and sent the men across to Denny's to have a satisfying bellyful of burgers, hash browns or whatever took their fancy. When they got back, Kate and I swayed happily across the parking lot to Denny's and ate something too. We are totally resolved to complete our trip as we are sure the car won't be fixed in a hurry. It needs a new fuel tank. We will telephone the mechanic tomorrow morning to arrange for the work to be done, arrange for a hire car, and set off for Monument Valley eagerly, after a short detour to admire the Petrified forest. Now to bed. It's been quite a tiring day, but we are all happy, safe and well. The scenery all day has been breathtaking and the adventures though not wanted, have only left us grateful that there are so many nice, helpful and kind people around.
This morning we took a yellow taxi to the very pleasant Reid Park Zoo. It is a small zoo, but nicely and scenically laid out. It's a good size for a day out and everything is within easy walking distance. All the big five African beasts are there, together with an excellent selection of South American fauna - fauna that by and large has a completely different feel and aura to African animals. Consider the "emotional" difference between three South American favourites and three African favourites: Capybara, the Llama, the Anteater, and the Lion, the Giraffe and the Zebra: with the first three you think of words like "cuddly", "peaceful", "dozy", "rooting happily about" - terms you would certainly never apply to the African favourites.Zaria and Freya had a good time, and James kindly handled the map/plan to ensure that we got round expeditiously.This evening, Kate and Chidi have been rushing around packing for tomorrow's early departure. While they were doing this Freya woke up complaining of a sore foot: she had walked barefoot in the garden and collected cactus spines in her tender toes. These had to be carefully discovered in the spotlight of a strong torch, and then plucked out one by one with small tweezers.
A very common urban tree in Tucson is the Palo Verde, popular because it is drought resistant and a good shape, not too tall. This month it is covered in yellow blossom. The last two days the weather has warmed up and the Palo Verde in the garden has attracted a cloud of enormous black bees, which rather scare me. They buzz very fiercely and are the size of the largest English bumble bee.
Meanwhile the orange blossom that captivated me when I arrived has already started to drop and the gentle little worker bees that had flocked have disappeared entirely. How rapidly the spring, if you can call it that, has moved on in the week we have been here, into early summer: the mornings and evenings are no longer as chilly as they were when we arrived: the weather is hot and dry, and this will go on until October.This evening we have a curious wind and that feeling that perhaps it will rain, but it is unlikely.Drought resistant plants are key to a successful garden here, though we have roses and some bouganvillea. The water bill is a big thing, and we are supposed to water the garden not more than once a week! Tucson gets less than 12 inches of annual rainfall, and there is a paucity of natural water resources. Meanwhile the city has grown far beyond what is sustainable from the water supply point of view. The more Palo Verde trees that are planted, and the fewer roses, the better it will be for Tucson.
The truth of this proverb strikes you over and over again. Already the retelling of the Iraq war is going on with its different versions and truths: whose story will prevail? And much as we enjoyed the visit to San Xavier on Sunday and the museum yesterday (see below) it is frustrating to find immense gaps in our knowledge of the indigenous peoples and events: even the architects and builders of San Xavier 220 years ago or so (most likely from the local Native American communities) are completely unknown - documentation wasn't a priority even to the Franciscan monks.James was a succès fou at Kate's school. He stood up in front of a class of mostly hispanic teenagers and answered questions in his English accent, some of which made us giggle when he reported back. Kate showed them pictures of James' school (Repton) and they immediately decided that he had been to Hogwarts. Good naturedly, James recorded a voice mail message for one of the teachers. They wanted him back today, but I think he has done his stint! We have between us seen a little bit of the school system on this visit: on Saturday, we called in to see Zaria's school (St Michael's), where she is in Kindergarten, with a wonderful ex-ballet dancer for her teacher. Zaria's classroom is full of exciting things, including two lizards living in a glass tank, two turtles, and a very well stocked library next door: it's a happy, busy, creative place and Zaria gets far more than the 3Rs, as her enthusiastic teacher plans interesting projects for them to do - the latest is the earth and the planetary system. Freya goes to a pre-school called Second Street, basically a couple of spacious airy classrooms surrounded by a large well equipped playground, with shady spaces for outdoor activities even in the hottest weather.
Yesterday, while James was becoming famous in Tucson, Zaria stayed at home (sore throat and a bit of eye infection) with Oksy and me. We had a quiet morning, sweeping the outside patios, raking up leaves, watering the garden and generally catching up with a bit of housework here and there. Around midday we made our way to the University of Arizona and visited the Arizona Historical Society Museum (Yellow cab: $6.50 for three of us - I haven't sussed out the infrequent buses yet). This is an excellent display, full of interesting artefacts, and well laid out. For most of its recorded history, Arizona's history hasn't been that of the United States, but of its Native American invasions, and its later Hispanic colonial past. The museum has some great pieces of Hispanic furnishings and silverware. Arizona became a state only in 1912 when Tucson's population was probably still under 8,000. By 2009, Tucson's population has multiplied by more than a 100 times to just under a million. Yet more than twenty years before statehood, the University of Arizona was founded here in Tucson, just four years after the legendary shoot out at the OK Corral (1881).
I didn't realise, until I visited this museum, that the US Army used Native Americans to transmit secret messages during WWII and these messages were never decoded. There were about 600 "code talkers" most of them Navajos, but also a handful of Hopi speakers and other ethnic groups. The system was incredibly simple: a word in the Native American language was used to denote its English equivalent: the first letter of the English equivalent was the letter required. Thus to communicate the word "can" a Navajo speaker might have used the following: Moasi (Cat) Wollachee (Ant) Tsah (Needle). But do we have the accounts of the Code talkers themselves of their experiences in WWII - how they had to be protected because they had a faintly oriental look and were subjected to abuse by their fellow Americans? Not as far as I can see. Their stories are not told and their voices are not heard - at least not by us.
Early Sunday morning we all set off for the Mission San Xavier del Bac, about 10 miles from Tucson in the middle of a large Native American Reservation. The Mission is a wonderful example of Mexican Mission architecture, a gleaming white structure in the middle of a beautiful open location, a mixture of desert and cultivated land, surrounded by a rim of distant mountains. It was Palm Sunday and we each received our strips of palm, which Chidi and I wove into crosses, as we had learned how to do on many Palm Sundays in NIgeria. Father Eusebio Kino, who is celebrated for his mission work in California, came here in 1692 and established the first Jesuit mission. In the mid-eighteenth century, the Jesuits fell out of favour and were forcibly replaced by the Francisans, who were considered to be more reliable and loyal to the Mexican / Spanish governments. The current buildings were erected in the late eighteenth century, but they have a baroque style and feel, with the heavily decorated interior a blend of gold baroque like paintings and wall reliefs, and more folksy Mexican sculptures and paintings. If you have a health problem, you pin an image (or melagros) of that affected body part to the shrine to San Franciso - many of them are like little gold charms: I wished I had an image of my arthriticky knee! I saw a car key pinned there, so maybe someone was worried about engine trouble... To finish our visit, Zaria, Freya, Chidi, Oksy and I lit candles at the shrine to Mary, a new experience for Zaria and Freya - Freya was a little reluctant to leave her candle behind. http://www.sanxaviermission.org/
Fortified with some delicious fresh iced donuts which Kate's Aunt Jean had sent to us (from a shop that has been making donuts in Tucson since the nineteen-thirties), we set off for the Sonora Desert Museum. We had an excellent time looking around at some of the many exhibits of plant and animal life as well as geology and caves.http://www.desertmuseum.org/
We entered the museum on guest passes and so far, through the generosity of Chidi and Kate and other relations, we have benefited from guest passes for all our admissions in Tucson, including even the use of the Gym at the Y.
On the way home, we stopped at a shopping mall, while Chidi, Zaria and Oksy did some food shopping, James popped into a store to get some trainers, and Freya and I had a sleep in the car. I find it so strange that we live in the centre of Tucson but there are no corner shops and no convenience stores, so I can't just run round the corner to get something we might have forgotten.
Today James has gone to spend the day at Kate's High School and Zaria is with me recovering from a sore throat. Zaria and I have swept the patio and boiled eggs to dye for Easter, and later, when Oksy emerges, we'll see about getting a bus to the University of Arizona to visit the museum there.
I saw a humming bird in the garden :-)
Mount Lemmon is named after Sarah Lemmon, a botanist who reached the summit in 1881.
Yesterday we drove up to the Catalina Mountains, a short drive north of Tucson. It depends how far you go along the Catalina Highway: we travelled about 30 miles from Kate and Chidi's place and within that short space: " so great is the range of vegetation and climate along the way, that a trip into the Santa Catalina Mountains has been likened to a trip from Mexico to Canada"(National Geographic: Traveller Arizona. 2nd ed, 2005). You rise from the desert and ranks of Saguaro to cool pine forests at an altitude of over 8000 feet in the space of 10-15 miles. The enormous rock formations make for incredibly dramatic views, tempting us to stop and snap away with our digital cameras.
Kate's aunt used to own a cabin on Mount Lemmon, and Kate, in the first of our two cars, zipped off over the rapidly ascending, curling road like a homing pigeon, while I staidly drove steadily within the speed limits as I got used to driving an automatic car. We stopped at a place called Marshall's Gulch, close to Summerhaven, and ate the sandwiches Chidi had made, shivering a little despite the bright sunshine, in the nippy, pine scented wind. Afterwards we walked up the trail through the pine forest, alongside a stream for about a mile, and then ascended further up the mountainside for another half mile or so, until we arrived at what we thought might be a reasonable summit (Kate, Chidi and the girls stayed down by the stream and returned to the car before us, so we didn't want to spend a long time on our trek). Mount Lemmon suffered a terrible forest fire in 2003 which devastated this area, and you can see stands of burnt trees and curiously beautiful charcoal black trunks, faceted and glittering like black diamonds. It was a beautiful, easy trek, and James, Oksy and I were very pleased with it.
There is an air of TGIF in Kate and Chidi's home today. We are all looking forward to the weekend and have plans for various expeditions south of Tucson. Freya and I have just seen Zaria, Chidi and Kate out of the door, and Freya, who seems to have a touch of conjunctivitis (we are all on a tight regime of hand washing!), is staying with me for today, while the guys with the sore behinds are taking it slow and easy this morning! Later Freya and I will cut out some more cookies and Freya will decorate them with sprinkles and almonds.
Just for now, Freya is occupying herself with a shopping bag full of soft toys. We have fully discussed the behaviour of the little pink pig who apparently was responsible for various naughtinesses yesterday (taking the sharp scissors out of the drawer, running away with Zaria's favourite book etc). Currently, she is stroking a pink fluffy elephant under the dining table, making snoring noises, and I am sipping my coffee looking out at my favourite orange tree and listening to the busy birds. As soon as the sun warms, the orange blossom is alive with worker bees, and I wish I knew where they come from as I would look for the honey. Speaking of honey, the special honey of this area is the Mesquite honey. The Honey Mesquite is a drought-tolerant, medium, scrubby tree native to SW Arizona and Northern Mexico, with feathery leaves and yellow blossom from March to November. Its wild honey is pale gold and especially nice. Jean, Kate's very ancient, and partially sighted aunt, with her own hands, carefully decanted a jarful for me from the big plastic containers she has delivered from a local man, urging me to include wild honey in my diet as the best antidote to allergies and dust irritations.
James and Oksy arrived safely back some time after 3:00 pm, hot, tired, very happy and with rather sore behinds. Flaco gave them a quick briefing on how to steer a horse, and off they went for about 4.5 hours riding the plateau. Their photos look amazing. First task on arrival back was to down a cold beer, then showers and a relax. James had a very short twenty winks on one of the big sofas, while Oksy did another sudoku. Now we are getting into evening mode, with Kate back from work, all equipped with cold beers, and the shadows lengthening in the garden.
This morning, James and Oksy prepared to ride out with Mexican steer roper called Flaco - he lives near Kate's aunt around South Cottonwood Lane on the very edge of SW Tucson. We sorted out a bandana for Oksy and a sun hat for James, and equipped them with bottles of water, sunscreen, an energy bar and a banana. Flaco turned up around 8:45 amiably late, looking like stereotypical movie Mexican, with a gap toothed grin and a large cowboy hat on his head. As we are staying downtown, he came unromantically in a pick-up, instead of trotting up on horseback with a string of horses in tow. However I can vouch that he does arrive this way: when I stayed at South Cottonwood two years ago, we would see him or one of his sons trotting by on horse back most days. He knows that neither James nor Oksy are horseback riders by the way. Despite this knowledge Flaco did insist on taking both guys down the most difficult dangerous routes. The downhill path had both James and Oksy clinging on to saddle for fear of falling off. Another point of serious contention were the various cacti that ripped up cuts in every part of skin open to the elements as you rode through the otherwise bleak landscape - some were even strong enough to penetrate through denim. Even more terrifying was Flaco telling the boys as soon as an unassuming cactus was upon them to change course as these were the 'really bad cacti'; he said they could cause serious pain. Anyway they escaped with their lives. Phew!
Meanwhile Zaria and Freya are taking a day off school to keep me company. We have made a batch of cookies and we are about to start another activity. More later!
Last night I heard a mockingbird sing, its liquid notes pouring from its throat - a mixed repertoire of birdsong, no doubt mimicking the other common songbirds of Arizona: perhaps the cactus wren, or the junco or the black throated sparrow. I don't know enough about common songbirds to say, only that it was beautiful, as beautiful and uplifting as a British Blackbird in springtime - and there were no mechanical noises. This mockingbird, unlike those we read about in the newspaper, has not learnt to imitate a car alarm, a telephone, or a reversing truck.
I helped Zaria (aged 5+) and Freya (aged 3+) to thread felt pieces together to make their first ever felt purses yesterday. And as they decorated their purses with stick-on felt flowers and bees, and hid tiny chocolate eggs inside the purses, I reflected on the thrill and excitement of genes, and the generations. Yesterday, James, Freya and I sat round the table looking at each other with my maternal grandfather's greeny coloured eyes - Norman eyes, I always think, handed down through my mother, from that first Norman settler on the Welsh borders about 900 years ago. Yesterday I looked at a photo of Zaria beside Kate's mother, and saw an uncanny resemblance in the set of the jaw and the expression.
Eventually we got going. We waited for James to check the web to see if he had been offered a place at any of the US universities he had applied to. Soon the news came: an offer from Princeton with a good package. We performed a group hug of collective happiness and relief. So with a spring in our steps we set off to do a 3.3 mile walk around historic Tucson, using Kate's Arizona Guidebook which has the walking route mapped and described. You would think with the grid system, we could not go wrong: wrong, we could go wrong. We trailed around some of the important sights, but lost our way after a while. Eventually we lucked on the Tucson Visitor Centre, where the helpful information staff gave us loads of leaflets, information and most importantly a better, more detailed map. Armed with this we made an early stop to have cold drinks, and then went by the Cathedral, which is an utterly charming Hispanic building with four palm trees lined up in front. Then we made our way under the railway track to hippy Fourth Avenue, where James supplied himself with some cool shades. We got back to the house around 17:00 to find Kate and Freya busy in the kitchen. Soon afterwards, Zaria and Chidi came in.
Our evening has been a happy chaos of reading stories to the girls, evening baths, Margharitas in the garden, and discussion of James's academic dilemma! We are resolved on an early night. The lads are tired, and I am a bit tired too.
This morning I am sitting at the window looking at a tree covered in orange blossom (The picture to the right is the view I can see as I write). We arrived here after midnight, but there were Kate, Chidi and nephew James all up and smiling. We had bowls of soup, large glasses of sparkling water and small glasses of sparkling Prosecco.Our buoyant Arizona Shuttle driver collected us on the dot of 22.30, a baker's dozen of people going to Tucson, most of them from the same BA flight. He took one look at Oksy and summoned him to sit in the front seat: the rest of us were relegated to the back. As he drew away from the curb, he handed back individual bottles of water, and gave us a summary of how long he thought the trip would take. He asked if anyone wanted to be met at any of the four Tucson Shuttle stops by a taxicab, and used his mobile to fix that up for one of the passengers. For the rest of us, he promised to let us know 30 minutes before arrival at each stop, so that we could "use our cells to call our folks to come and pick us up". Feeling at last that I could relax, I fastened my seat belt, rested my cheek against the window, and slept for about an hour, a happy Arizona Shuttle customer!Kate and Chidi have been lent a picturesque old Mexican house in the centre of the older part of Tucson. It is a quaint bungalow type building, surrounded by a sweet garden, within eyeshot of the Arizona Museum of Art and other downtown amenities, but a quiet, magic oasis of peace for all that. All I can hear just now is the clock ticking, and the occasional moan of a distant train. It has a flat roof you could sleep on in hot weather (though currently approached by a rotting wooden staircase), and a covered outside corridor, roofed with those curved tiles you see in Spain. Inside it is cool, with a spacious tiled living area, and various charming little tiled niches in the wall. Kate has brought some of her mother's old furniture out of store, and spread her Afghan rugs and Tajiki throws. There is a stunning central African mask above the fireplace from her time there. I am sleeping in the Annex, which is just as charming as the main house. I feel like taking up residence there for a year! It has everything one person could ever need ... with the added bonus of two grandchildren nearby (Of course there would be the terrible wrench of the other gorgeous grandchild on the other side of the pond, so it's not going to happen!). As I went across to bed, I felt quite delirious with the scent of orange blossom: citrus and honey.This morning I saw the resident family off to school, washed a few dishes, and have put on a fresh batch of coffee while I wait for my lads to awaken: they are totally exhausted, however, we have planned to go to the gym and the Art Museum today, both within walking distance. But we won't drive ourselves hard as today is total holiday. Time to savour the orange blossom, not to wake up and smell the coffee!
Well here we are, in the seating area reserved for Arizona Shuttle customers. The Arizona Shuttle is a sort of SUV/Mini Bus which goes to and from Tucson and a few other towns in Arizona to Phoenix Airport. We are waiting for the 22.30 shuttle to Tucson having failed to arrive for the 18:30 shuttle. That word "clockwork"used in my previous post, has a bit of a hollow ring as our long haul flight was over 3 hours late taking off - delayed by a little accident when the skyway was being decoupled: the skyway moved and dented or damaged an inspection door, which then had to be completely replaced. While this was being done, all the passengers were sweltering in the plane.
Once the flight got going, it was smooth enough. Oksy and I took the back row window and aisle seats, as they are a pair as opposed to a threesome and there is a little space between the seats and the window where you can stash stuff. The BA staff were all very pleasant going out of their way to be friendly - the pilot especially: Captain Paul Russell (I think).
On arrival at Phoenix, there was the usual long, long immigration procedure, and I find that they need ALL your fingerprints now ( a couple of years ago it was just your forefingers). The immigration official asked Oksy and me lots of questions in a friendly way, but they were pertinent enough. Has Oksy travelled in the Middle East at all (No, but his Mum has)...
Phone calls to Tucson to let them know the score. We expect to get there about midnight.
Well we are on our way. Here I am sitting in Heathrow's Terminal 5, tapping away on my netbook, after discovering a pay as you go internet service provider. Oksy is doing sudokus and I have been doing email. We got up at a reasonable time this morning and our airport taxi arrived punctually to take us painlessly to Manchester Airport. Because everything went like clockwork, we had ages to wait around in Manchester airport, enough time to read as much of the Guardian as I wanted and to do the sudoku and quick crossword. The "snack" on the plane to Heathrow was a cup of tea, coffee or juice and a muesli bar - not quite enough for us as we hadn't had time or the inclination to have breakfast before we left. Now, unbelievably, we are actually looking forward to whatever is offered us on the next flight !
Just a busy weekend to navigate - numerous chores and appointments on Friday, and a birthday party in London on Saturday - then we will close the door on our home, and join the restless travelling world. Once I have a boarding card, I always feel rather like a labelled parcel with no will of my own as I follow one instruction after another - "Go to Gate N", "Fasten your seatbelt", "Enjoy your flight" etc. It is curiously relaxing actually. I am hoping I've not lost my handy knack of being able to drop off to sleep at the beginning of a long haul flight, and then to remain in a reasonably happy coma for as many hours as it takes.
I set up a Keepsafe arrangement for our snail mail with the Post office. This charged service ensures that the Post office holds onto your mail for the weeks you are away, and then delivers it all in one fell swoop the day after you get home. It was extraordinarily easy to set up over the phone, with an empathetic, efficient human being on the other end of the line. Alternatively, you can do it online but then you need to allow at least 5 working days before you want the arrangement to kick in. Hats off to the Post Office.
On the issue of mail, I noticed a big surge of spam today in my email in tray the like of which I have not seen before. Just my luck to hit a spam spike when I may not be able to access email regularly to clean things up. Did a big delete and tidy up anyway, and maybe it will calm down tomorrow.
One horrible task awaits me before departure: sorting out a space in the garage to park the car. There are two old single beds there which I was loathe to throw away: now I wish I had. I tried the furniture recycling people but they need modern bedding with fire retardant labels on them, and I don't think we have those. The beds are OK though - it seems a pity that I may have to strap them to my trailer and take them to the nearest waste reception centre.
It seems to be an enormous undertaking to close the front door on your home for 5 weeks - bigger than if you were going for 5 months or 5 years, in some ways. At least then you know that you have to switch off the fridge and the water, or get a house sitter or a tenant. I have told the milkman we are going away, and when in person, but am worried in case he forgets - he did once idiotically leave bottle after bottle of milk on my doorstep over a week's absence: I am therefore craftily "testing" him out by cancelling the milk 5 days before we leave, to make sure he has registered our temporary cancellation!!
Another thing on my mind is the welfare of my small garden. I am in a frantic spate of gardening, now that at last the weather is gloriously spring like, in the hope that vicious pruning, weeding along with strong attacks on slugs and snails will mean that the May garden I come back to will show some signs of being a garden, and at least rescu-able for the rest of the Summer. My favourite ramblers and other shrubs are getting a very generous mulch and feed, but sowing my pots of basil, parsley and salad greens will have to wait until I get back ... frustratingly. Yes 5 weeks is a difficult interval of time: it's just too long to leave pots of seeds to germinate and generally take care of themselves in self watering pots, under a water-saving cover of clingfilm - this usually works beautifully for about 3 weeks, though. Try it, if you haven't before.
We bought dollars this week - horrifications! Compared to this time last year, your UK pounds buys a sad amount. No rash of shopping for me in the USA this time around! I have bought my little grand daughters' books and handicraft kits in pounds, and any treats while I am there will be cheapskate ones.
Have spent a good deal of time today looking at car hire options and wondering whether to book ahead or leave it to chance. In the end I decided to reserve. I selected what looked like a good deal, and found the same deal charged differently depending on how I approached the website. It appears that you get a worse deal by prepaying, despite what the website implied, and I ended up making the same booking twice in two different ways...I've cancelled the first (more expensive by almost 3 hundred pounds!) one and am awaiting the repayment on my poor wornout credit card. Now I feel depressed and stressed. Have I got it right or am I being tricked. the inconsistencies leave me feeling uncertain. Why do I feel as though Iam a chicken waiting to be plucked ... or fleeced ... or something!
A few weeks ago we used the gift of a good old fashioned book token to purchase the Lonely Planet guide to the USA and a Michelin road map. Today at last, we spread the map all over the kitchen table and started studying it with the LP guide book on hand. There's too much to see and do. We should have planned to visit for 6 months. It looks as though we'll choose to set out from Tucson one April Friday morning to take the 6+ hour drive to Albuquerque as a starter. This will give us a chance to get a flavour of some of the interesting places along the way to Gallup. Then we'll set off for Canyon de Chelly and the Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park (do they like the word "Tribal" there - I think it has pejorative connotations?). After that, we shall try to spend 2-3 days in the Grand Canyon area, and follow that up with a day or so at Bryce Canyon. Then we'll belt along to the general neighbourhood of Salt Lake City en route for Yellowstone, where we might be able to spend a few days before driving like the clappers until we get to Chicago. Car hire options were investigated today as well, and look reasonably promising.
In the all round gloom of new year 2009, I decided to have a new beginning: to start this blog all over again. I've binned the poems that made up the content of the blog. It's harder than I ever imagined to write a worthwhile poem, and I think the world should be spared my drivel. Thanks to the poet Gill McEvoy and the other members of the wonderful Poem Shed writing group, I am learning slowly. Maybe one day I will have a poem worthy of the name. This blog is going to document a trip to the USA from 31 March - 6 May 2009. My artist son Oksy and I bought our tickets before the UK pound sterling crashed, and so we had a reasonable deal on air fares. The main reason for the trip is to see my son, daughter-in- law and grandchildren, but on the back of that we plan to drive across the USA from Tucson to Chicago. My gap-year nephew is going to join us. So far we have purchased a large road map, and the latest Lonely Planet USA. While we wish to keep our trip loose and flexible, we don't want to fritter away our 2-3 weeks on the road and miss iconic sights. Luckily we are all into scenery, not cities.
