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Published: August 11th 2009
August 11th 2009 A city different I cruelly laughed at Alex when she asked whether people live in New Mexico. Apparently it was not such a silly question: Americans and foreigners alike often enquire about the existence of New Mexico and are surprised to hear it is actually one of the 'lower 48' (states of America). They even have a column in a state-wide newspaper where New Mexicans can share their stories of encountering ignorance about their state. I am slightly baffled by this. As a child I had fun (obviously I was a hard-done-by youth) in listing all 50 states (and Canada! and Puerto Rico!). I normally managed to get 42 off the top of my head. New Mexico was one I always remembered. Comes between New Jersey and New York. It's the ones in the middle that I always forget. And places like Michigan which I always think is a city rather than a state. And why, oh, why do I think Milwaukee is in Florida????!! It's actually in Wisconsin in the north of the country....
After the hot, dusty days spent in the desert of Utah, Arizona and Colorado, I can't say I was looking forward
Santa Fe resident
He asked Nicole to take his picture!to more hot, dusty days in New Mexico. Fortunately I was pleasantly surprised! Driving through southern Colorado and into New Mexico, Nik and I are greeted with green rolling hills. Not exactly the English countryside, but still refreshingly green and ... alive. Not to say that the desert doesn't live, but through my eyes it was pretty barren. Nonetheless, as we slowly descended through New Mexico towards Santa Fe the plantlife slowly dissipated, revealing ever larger expanses of sandy, orange soil.
Our plan to overnight it in famed Taos quickly faded on arrival at the city's visitors centre: the nearest campsites were 14 miles out of town. And the closest hostel was in a neighbouring town. Clearly Taos is not the place for under-budget travellers! Nik and a hot, tired and grumpy Jenny quickly wandered along the main drag popping into pretty yet exceptionally priced art galleries. We pushed on to Santa Fe. Not exactly the poor man's mecca, this city, the state capital, is just as expensive as Taos. But ever so pretty and charming. The main plaza is the voyeur's paradise. Sitting on the balcony at the Marble Cafe/Bar, Nik and I spent a very enjoyable afternoon
drinking locally brewed beer and watching (Nik is to thank for the photos) the eclectic, eccentric residents and visitors. There is a very obvious reason as to why Santa Fe is called the 'City Different'!!! The evening found us wandering along Canyon Road, famous for it's Friday night gallery openings. The array of local art was fascinating - from the exquisite to the insane - and very much sums up the pervasive artistic vibe in Santa Fe.
Ta-ra, ya flaming gallah! And so the time came for Nik to bid farewell to Betty Boy. Betty Boy was very upset. I had to console him after dropping Nik off at Albuquerque airport. The past 3-4 weeks have simply flown by - in a haze of sun, sand, beer, mountains and me taking the micheal out of the Australian accent. Particularly by pretending to be Alf from Home and Away. Not that any of you should know what that sounds like; I'm surely one of only a committed handful who still follow the antics of Summer Bay? I hope I am. That programme can damage your health. To replace Nik, I retrieved Pamela (my faithful friend, the GPS) from the glove
Chillii, chilli, chilli
You can't come to New Mexico and not try the chile! Green on the side please! box and reinstated her on the dashboard. Seamus the Sheep also helped to fill the void. And a long void it was! All the way across town and on to my next stop: the Gates of Albuquerque.
Frequently over the previous few days I had been asking myself whether I had ever met Sue and Bill Gates. And whether I would recognise them, or them me. I figured we would be okay, as I came to their home - and how many young English woman randomly turn up at their house? Maybe lots, but I doubted it. As it turns out, we had never met before. My father and Bill were colleagues in California over 30 years ago, years before I was a twinkle in my father's eye, as they say. A friendship ensued which has survived the years and the miles. I hope it continues after this visit. I think I am a reasonably acceptable house guest :-)
My visit with Sue and Bill reignited an appreciation for the desert and I definitely left my stomach - if not my heart - in Albuquerque. What a great place! It's not a huge city, but has everything you
would want to live a comfortable, enjoyable life. They even have four seasons, which I hadn't expected. Summer is undoubtedly too hot for me, but winter brings regular snowfall allowing locals and some visitors to ski down the mountains bordering the east of the city. To the north, south and west (I think that's correct!), Indian reservations create the city limits. Each reservation, of course, houses a casino or two. I think that's how you can tell if you are on an Indian reservation: just look out for the casinos. As in California, and many other states, gambling is generally prohibited. Indian reservations, however, are - so to speak - a sovereign state and gambling is permitted. Imaginably a nice wage-earner, many reservations have allowed casinos to be built on their land for a share of the profits.
Portaloo paradise Following a hearty breakfast at Murphy's Mule Barn, we set off for a trip to the Acoma pueblo, the oldest continuously-inhabited community in North America. Actually, I need to go back to the Mule Barn for a second. What a fantastic eatery! Although noisy, the food was excellent, which is the most important bit. Having read my previous blog,
Sue and Bill promised my biscuits and gravy. Still a little hesitant (don't want to order food I don't then eat), Bill took the plunge and I had a little taster. It was surprisingly tasty and my tastebuds did not flip out entirely. Not yet something I would tuck into on a regular basis, neither is it something I would turn my nose up at. Will work up to ordering my own portion of SOS (the military name for it - you might be able to work it out!) one day! From Sue's plate I had a few mouthfuls of a breakfast burrito; again something that has never taken my morning fancy. What a surprise to find that I liked it! Even with green chili. And that early in the morning! Those hurdles over, my next dietary conquest is grits. Tennessee, Georgia look out!
So having had biscuits and gravy, breakfast burrito, scrambled eggs, five rashers of bacon, hash browns and a slice of french toast, I fell down on the floor and had to be rolled into the car. Seriously, though, I managed it under my own steam and we headed west, passing by a couple of the
obligatory casinos and out to Acoma. Having seen pueblo ruins in Mesa Verde, it was fascinating to visit a working pueblo. Geri, our guide, ran on autopilot. Probably leading a tour 4 or 5 times a day, she knows the script well. Her deadpan delivery was highly amusing, and it was a brilliant way to round off my travels through Native Indian lands, history and culture. Nik, you'll be pleased to know I now have a copy of 'Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee'. I'm hooked!
I am disturbed at myself, though, for being overly fascinated by the abundance of pueblo portaloos. Perched on the top of a mesa, the pueblo doesn't have running water or electricity. Some of the houses do have satellite dishes, so I'm guessing they have an electrical source of some kind! They obviously don't have any sewage system. Thus, all around the edge of the village, precariously placed amongst the rocks, were dozens of portaloos and outhouses: from vintage, wooden constructions to the very modern plastic affairs. I was bewitched. What is it with toilets?!
The world's longest... Albuquerque is home to the world's longest tramway. It is also the city's most popular
Finally found my home!
Ladies toilets at Murphy's Mule Barn are called 'Jennys'. Jenny being a female mule. No comments, thanks. attraction. To start, I would call it a cable car. But who knew?! Like Sue, I would have thought the city's famed balloon festival would have attracted more people, but hey, these things happen. The tramway was inspired by the cable cars and skilifts of Europe. Took 2 years, $2 million and 5,000 helicopter trips to construct. Goodness me, I remember something. Bill is an unofficial Albuquerque tour guide - I learnt so much in just two days, most of which I annoyingly can't seem to recall now. I will eventually, I'm sure.
After taking in the views of the city from the top of the Sandia mountain, Sue and I hot-footed it back down to join Bill for a swift lunch at Little Anita's, a great New Mexican restaurant. Oh, how I love Mexican food. These were undoubtedly the best enchiladas I have ever eaten. And the best refried beans. AND, AND, AND...well, I can't say they were the best sopapillas - I've never had them before so cannot compare. But they were delicious. In case you've not come across them before, sopapilla is a deep fried pocket of dough. You break it in two and fill it
with honey. Now, how could that
ever be bad??
Death by the I-40 With a ice cooler stocked with homemade goodies (including incredible zucchini chocolate bread), I yet again headed off into the sunset. Quite literally. This is the beginning of my jaunt eastwards. From Albuquerque I am heading due east - for about 1,000 miles - all the way to Memphis. I will be going straight ahead, on a flat road - the same flat I-40 - for 1,000 miles. Yikes. They say you should be careful what you wish for. Driving through the mountains, and there have been many, many mountains in the past two months, I have wished for some straight, flat road. Someone up there was listening. At the same time, though, driving in a straight line for hours on end can become tedious. Keeping an eye out for the highway patrol (which are EVERYWHERE in Texas), dodging suicidal truckers, enjoying the lightening displays and singing REALLY loud are good ways to pass the time. And I guess I should be taking in the scenery. Texas, by the way, is flat. Big and flat. And they have lots of cows. Cows which don't sit down
when it is going to rain. Maybe that's just English cows?
Fortunately I am not doing it all in one go. In fact, having driven just under 300 miles I have stopped in Amarillo, Texas. Arrived in the middle of a torrential thunderstorm. Welcome to Texas, ladies and gentlemen! I will be sitting in my palatial (compared with a tent!) hotel room for the next few days. This may strike you as a completely crazy idea. Especially if you know anything about Amarillo. It's strangely reminiscent of Las Vegas for all the dazzling signs down the freeway which cuts through the centre of town. But I have a dissertation to finish and this town seems relatively devoid of any distractions. Except for the constant stream of trains and planes that pass my bedroom window. Turns out I'm staying near the airport. Uncle David would be very happy here!
So that's me. In Amarillo. I'm not going anywhere, doing anything, seeing anyone. Well, except for the maid who already thinks I am weird for spending all day in my room. It's going to stay this way for a good few days. Probably a week. I will try and find
something interesting to write about, but can't make any promises. Maybe I could write about the violent outburts and attacks which have been happening over the proposed healthcare reforms here. Or maybe I could just leave that subject alone. Coming from a country with a national health service - albeit far from ideal - I don't quite understand the opposition. Anyhoos, finishing on a happier note, the breakfast here includes chocolate milk. I LOVE CHOCOLATE MILK. Toodaloo.
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AMags
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Can't wait for the next installment!
I'm enjoying this trip so much. Your descriptions are funny, insightful, and help me to see where you are/have been. The photos of the rock formations in the canyons are so beautiful that I could frame them - I do hope you don't lose your camera or over-write any of these pics. I may commission a few when you finally get back to England. Now, how many people are you going to meet who can say that they finished their dissertation in Amarillo! I think it is a great place to stop, only because of the song. You'll be able to tell everyone the 'way to Amarillo' now. And I, too, LOVE CHOCOLATE MILK!!!!! lots of love, keep safe, and finish that dissertation - you'll feel like a new woman when it is done, with a freedom you never felt before.