Tucson to Phoenix

So here I am. Phoenix Airport. I’ve just this second noticed that I can see the runway from where I am sitting, which is pretty cool. It’s dark outside so can only just make out wing tips and tail tips, but it’s still fun to watch.

My flight doesn’t leave for another 3 hours, and I got here 3 hours ago, but amazingly I’ve not been bored yet. I’m not sure what I’ve done as all I can remember doing is eating dinner, but there you go. It’s a great airport. Really friendly staff, fountains for filling up your water bottles once through security, free wifi, plugs everywhere for charging your various bits – it’s great.

Anyway, enough airport stuff. I woke up early, despite having nothing to wake up for, and after a bit of tossing and turning made my way to breakfast. Toast, bacon and a pot of yoghurt later, I was back in my room and packing my bags for the final time. I had a late check out so I was going to hit the pool for a couple of hours before heading on. It was a bit strange to pack away things I knew I wouldn’t use until back on Danish soil, but it also made me excited about sleeping in my own bed.

I lounged by the pool, swam and sweat the 2 hours away, then showered and hit the road. I’m pretty pleased to see that it’s a good hour and a bit until Florence, my first stop. It gives me time to relish the driving, the landscape and the air. I pass some beautiful scenery.

Florence will give me lunch, as well as something to look at. Lonely Planet tells me it’s really quite charming, and it is. It’s full of buildings like this.

But it’s deserted. It is pushing 40 degrees outside, so I’m not that surprised. I head back to the car and try to find somewhere to eat. I checked out a place online, River Bottom Grill, that looked good enough, and am convinced I’ve passed it when I suddenly see it. It looks like a bit of a dive from the outside, but is cool, friendly and has a great BLT and garlic fries. My body craves salt and homemade ice-teas washes it all down nicely. A big mug of coffee finishes it all off. I’m in no rush. I could easily sit here and drink beer, but alas, no can do. I bum about online (free wifi!) and then decide I should head on. Back into the furnace.

My next stop is Casa Grande. I’m not really expecting much but, once again, I am very pleasantly surprised. Again again, I’m almost the only person there (2 others). I chat to the park guide about my trip and the weather and she tells me how all the parks are full to the brim in the winter. You can manage with flip-flops and a t-shirt in the winter, so many OAPs – snowbirds – flock here for the colder winter months elsewhere. The summer is just too hot. This explains my constant solitude at almost every park. No complaining from here.

The Casa Grande ruins are made up of four compounds, each of which contained numerous buildings. Now, of course, there are only worn down walls, expect for one building - Casa Grande. It stands in the only compound you can visit, and is a true oddity. No one really knows what it was used for, although guesses abound. The first European to set eyes on it was Padre Eusebio Francisco Kino, a Spanish missionary, in 1694. Hundreds of years of looting, vandalism and graffiti later, it was finally made a national park in 1918. In 1932, the current protective roof was put over it, and not much has changed since. It, and the compounds, were built around 1350 by the ancient people of the Hohokam period. The area was abandoned about a thousand years later for reasons unknown. It’s suspected that over-population combined with water problems forced the people to move on. All that is left are the worn down walls of all the buildings and compounds except for Casa Grande, the only large construction, and completely unlike any other from that period. It’s a very, very important place for Navajo people and is oddly powerful. I love it.

Casa Grande

I walk around for some time, despite the baking heat, and am watched closely by the pigeons who now call Casa Grande home. I wonder what it was like all those years ago.

Pointy pointy

You can see the outer walls of a second compound and a ball court (an oval ring of dirt that looked very different back then and was used for games) from a viewing point in the parking lot, but my attention is elsewhere. I’m sure I can see a sand storm brewing in the distance. I go to the bathroom and refill my bottle from the water fountain in anticipation of getting stuck in a storm, but alas, no such luck. It does get murky as I leave, but that’s it.

My next stop, after another hour and a bit, is the David and Gladys Wright house. Frank Lloyd Wright designed and built this house for his son, David and his missus, Gladys. Gladys left the house to her granddaughters, who sold it (!). It was then sold on to a developer and was threatened with being demolished. Great efforts went in to saving it, and after a lot of online campaigning, fund raising and signature getting, an anonymous benefactor bought it, saving it from demolition. The benefactor turned out to be a Las Vegas attorney, Zach Rawling, who has established a new Arizona non-profit to care for the house. Huzzah!

I have to drive through Phoenix to find the house and I’m terrified. I’ve not been around so many cars in a long time, I’m driving a big car, it’s in a city I don’t know and busy American roads freak me out. It’s really hot and I’m sweating a lot. Suddenly, I make a turn that is clearly where the rich people live. It’s quiet, the houses are big and beautiful, and there is grass! What luxury. I arrive at my destination, but have to go around the corner to get a view. It’s all fenced off with threatening signs all over the place, but you can get a decent enough glimpse.

Slightly different angle

It’s beautiful. To think it was going to be demolished! What I’d give to live in it. You can see a video of the outside and inside here.  

Next stop is the airport. More mad city driving, but not much, thankfully. Unfortunately it’s rush hour traffic on a Friday, and the highway is jammed. Luckily, I’m in not busy. I see something in the road but can tell it’s nothing dangerous so just keep driving. I hear a weird popping noise and then smell something that could be paint. I keep driving.

Back at Budget, I get out of the car to see black paint sprayed up the side of the car. A spray paint can. That’s what it was. I tell the man and we fill out an incident form. He’s confident it’ll be able to be taken off without too much worry. I hope so. I’m bummed out enough about the journey ending, the last thing I need is the cost of a paint job.

I pack up all my bits and bobs, and clear out my rubbish. It’s actually a bit sad to leave the car. We’ve had some good times. I head towards the airport the same way I came two weeks ago. I can’t help but think back to then. I was so tired and nervous. I was already wondering if I had made the right choice – not about staying another week, but about coming in the first place.

What a holiday it’s been. What an adventure. I've covered 2360 miles, or 3798 km. I’m going to miss Arizona very much. I’ll miss the kind, warm and friendly people who are all too happy to chat away, but never intrude. I’ll miss the wonderful weather – whether it’s baking desert or rainy mountains. I’ll miss the landscapes, the deserts, the forests, the canyons, and the hills. I’ll miss the road, dirt or tarmac. I’ll miss driving to new places, discovering spots as I go. I’ll miss stopping at breathtaking views and just sucking it all in.

I’m so, so pleased I’ve been able to do this trip. As I said yesterday, it’s just made me want more, but for now, I’ve had my fix. Now it’s time to go and stay in one place for a while. It’s time to go home.