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.  

Sedona

It's been a long hot day here in Sedona. I've eaten far too much (this goes for the whole trip - bar the canyon hike - and my body is crying out for vegetables. They're surprisingly hard to find here), but I've also hiked around 6 or 7 miles (9 - 11 kilometres. That sounds better) so it's not all bad. 

I started out with a big breakfast, the norm nowadays, then despite me wanting to just relax, I hit the road out to Cathedral Rock, which is a really, really, really big rock. You can hike up it, so I thought I'd do that (I know I said I'd hike up the big hill from yesterday, but I thought I could either do just that, or I could do multiple things. I went for the multiple instead).

You have to buy a parking pass for the hike, so I do. Imagine my surprise and joy when I get my six dollars change in dollar coins! I get three gold and three silver. Dollar coins aren't very popular here, I'm not sure why, but I think they're great. Anyway, back to hike. It was steep, hot, sweaty and great fun.

This doesn't look steep, but it really was

The views from the top were fantastic, the perfect place to just sit and stare.

I seem to do a lot of that recently, but that's OK. I kind of wish I'd bought my book, instead I struggle to take a decent selfie to make into a postcard for my parents. The sun is in my eyes and in the end I just sort of give up. Sorry parents. 

I head back down and get stuck for a while on the steep bit as I let people up before I go down. I'm nice like that, and you know, it's the right thing to do. Besides, I get to sit and stare while they huff and puff.

Once in the car, I decide to go for the Devil's Bridge hike. It's pretty hot by now, so I swing by a petrol - sorry - gas station and buy lots of fluids. I hike and hike and hike, and when I get to the top, I want to puke. There's a man walking across the bridge and acting like he's standing in the middle of a football pitch.

My knees go funny and my stomach wants to come out of my mouth. I turn around and pretend it's not happening.

Then I head over - facing my fear or something - but don't get all the way across. I'm fairly sure it'll fall down when I'm on the other side, and I'll have to live there. Great view, but crappy food. 

I do the sitting and staring and then make my way down. Now it's really hot and I'm happy when I'm able to get back in the car. It's past one now and I'm hot and bothered.

I drove an FJ Cruiser on my last trip. Didn't see many then but now there's a lot of them. Good car. I liked this number plate

I head back to the motel, lie on the bed and turn on the cold air. I turn on the telly, and Aliens is on. I'm reminded of that bit in Friends when Joey thinks Die Hard will be better when watched in London. I feel the same right now. It's somehow incredibly cosy to be on the bed, watching Aliens, with an overcast Sedona just outside my window. I drink a lot of water, eat some energy/protein bars left over from the Grand Canyon, and watch Sigourney say, "Get away from her you BITCH!" It's brilliant. 

Once I've cooled down and seen the queen alien sucked into space, I decided to make my way to Amitabha Stupa and Peace Park. A stupa is a big mound or hill thing that contains Buddhist relics.

This one has thousands of prayer scrolls and something else I've forgotten in it. It's very peaceful and pretty, and there's a huge ant hill close by. I watch the ants for quite a long time. They're crazy things. Crazy. I also meet some Gambel quails, which are quails, oddly enough, and very funny ones at that. They sound a bit like a cartoon quail, and just sort of run about making funny noises. They were very nice to watch while I thought about things. 

Where I sat

After just under an hour, I move on. Next stop is the airport mesa which apparently is the best spot for the sunset. I arrive around an hour before the sun is due to set, find a stone and sit.

The sun very slowly moves down, and everyone else very quickly arrives. There's lots of cloud so it's not the spectacular show it can be, but it's still pretty fine. 

I make a move before the world and his wife do, but somehow still manage to get caught by some random lonely dude in the car park. He has that lonely person skill of stringing sentences together without stopping so you just can't get away. I think I end up being quite rude and can hear him still talking to himself as I walk away. I drive off and sit paused at the T-junction. I hear a horn honk, once, then twice, and turn to the left to see what's going on. It's the loney dude honking at me and waving goodbye. I wave and then make my turn. So long. 

I head to the Oak Creek Brewery and Grill as I hear they've got lots of beer and ribs, and it's my last night so I don't care. They have a tasting menu of 7 beers in 5 ounce glasses. I don't understand ounces, and seeing as I'm driving, I don't want to order 7 huge beers by accident. I ask the waitress how many ounces there are in a large beer, thinking I'd be OK if it were the equivalent of one beer. She says, "Well there are 35 ounces in a litre, and a beer is a pint, so..." I don't even know what to say to her, so just order one large beer. She looks a bit confused, but trust me, she wasn't as confused as I was. 

The beer was good, the ribs weren't so great, but what can you do. I'm now watching Parks and Recreation, which is one of the best programmes ever, and sitting on my bed. 

Tomorrow is the last day. I have to be in the airport at 5.30pm, so I've got almost a full day to get from here to there. I'll make a couple of stops on the way, and try to make the last day a good one. I'm sad to be going, I really am. I love this country, I love this state. It's so beautiful. But at home, I've got a beautiful wife, and although he's probably not that beautiful right now, my unborn son is also waiting for me. I hear he's getting quite active, so I'll have to get some of those kicks felt. It's so weird. Cool, but weird. 

Right, I have to pack. 

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.