Grand Defined

Tim and I often agree that words like "iconic" and "awesome" are horribly overused. Having travelled now to some of the well-known destinations in the great American West, well, there are a couple of places I'd slap the adjective on without a second thought--

 

Vegas? OK, many people love Vegas. It's got glitz. It's absolutely over the top. Is it awesome? Not to me. Is it iconic? Well, one definition I found online is "an iconic image or thing is important or impressive because it seems to be a symbol of something." Vegas, then, could be iconic if you think of it as a symbol of ostentatiousness. I have never been a fan; I thought my first visit was coloured by having been stranded there for a number of days when I found myself there the morning of 9/11 and couldn't get a flight out until three days later. The casinos were running, but everyone looked sad; the shows were dark; there was no ambience. Having returned, well, I am still not a fan. I'm not a gambler, I don't like waiting in queues and I don't like crowds at every turn. Tim was right to remark that the Strip was akin to Oxford Street--hordes of tourists looking up and down and all around, cameras in hand.

 

Then again, we went to Paris and Venice together, or at least I joked that we can now say we've been there. We had some very good food, but not fabulous service. We stayed at Caesar's Palace where the shops and the pools and the rooms are more than anyone could ever need. I'm glad Tim can now tick the box.

 

Grand Canyon? Yes to both (Iconic and awesome). What surprised me first--very little traffic along the way. At one point I asked Tim if the Canyon was possibly closed since there wasn't a car in front or behind us for miles. The next thing that I found a surprise was the landscape--I expected desert, and yet there was a density of trees and, a real shock, snow in May. We had only arrived to find ourselves in the middle of a hail storm, and then snow flakes later.  Given the elevation, I should have expected a variety of landscape; having only flown above the Canyon and seen the rocks, I hadn't expected all the rest.

 

We stayed at the South Rim in one of the area lodges that was spare, but functional--a comfortable bed, coffee in the room, a short walk to the Rim, and heat for the chilly night. I was glad we'd stayed in the park; it gave us a chance to see more than perhaps we would have on our adventure across several cities/states in a short period.

 

You may recall that I have a bit of a discomfort with heights. I have come to think of it less as a fear--if you saw the drive up to 8,000 feet and back down with the winding, narrow roads and often no barriers, well, you'd say if I was afraid I'd have pulled over and let Tim do the driving. I managed, perhaps a bit more slowly than Tim would have, though it gave him a chance to really view the landscape that I would have otherwise found a bit, well, overwhelming. I did sense vertigo when looking over the Rim and deep into the valley; it is breathtaking. The strata formed from when the Colorado River flowed through the Canyon is truly awesome. The canyon looks quite expansive from a plane, as I've flown over it dozens of times; to stand at the rim and look down, almost a mile, and have a closer look is something I now feel quite privileged to have seen.

 

And the entire area is lovely; lots of little gift shops and places to dine within the park. We opted for the cafeteria-style diner near our lodge, where the food was ample and it was more functional than romantic or cosy, and then treated ourselves to a lovely breakfast, Canyon view, at the El Tovar Lodge, a rather luxurious little spot with animal heads on display, high ceilings with dark beams, and shops stocked with dozens of tee shirts and expensive turquoise. Note: much of the cheap goods were made in China.

 

I read somewhere that the tourists are 83% American, and just 4% from Britain.We did see quite a range of visitors on our journey. Oh, and, a factoid--only 53 of 600 deaths have been due to falls. More have perished from airplane/helicopter crashes. Terra firma, terra firma.

 

Two cities shared, and a few more to go. I'm taking this one easy; I'm still jet-lagged and Tim has acquired a horrid cold. Right now we're in different cities--he still with Mirepoix in London, and I am in Cowes getting ready for the weekend. It's the Manches Cup, where lawyers-cum-sailors compete in races on Saturday and Sunday.Coh Karek, Tim's beautiful Contessa, will participate, and this time with Tim as captain. A fancy dress (costume) party awaits us on Saturday evening . . . with any luck, we'll have a photo to share.

 

Did you see my last post? The photos (with captions) we took are posted on Snapfish, here. Do enjoy.

Go West, Young Man (and Woman)

We did it. We survived it! Four states, many cities, five days. (Spring, TX; Grand Canyon, AZ;  Las Vegas, NV; Death Valley, Yosemite, and San Fran, CA.) Originally scheduled for 1140 miles, the snow at Yosemite found us driving about 150 miles farther north than anticipated, then taking the only open pass west only to head back south to get into Yosemite's wondrous park. Total miles traveled: closer to 1400. Views? Priceless. Still engaged? You betcha. Take a look at the photos, and keep an eye on this site--I will tell you more about each city as time allows! We did fly from Houston to Phoenix, by the way, and started our journey from Sky Harbor International Airport in a Kia Optima after a bit of indecision on my part about whether a "full-sized" vehicle was really worth it (and in the end we decided no, and traded down).

 

I will start by telling you how wonderful, how truly (oh, my) special/magnificent/fabulous/awesome/etc it was to go to Spring, Texas, to begin the journey by seeing my brother David's family--my funny, sweet, handsome brother David (OK, "Dave"), his lovely, warm wife Elena, their handsome boys Andrew (9) and Chris (13?!), and their extended family--the petite, sweet grandmother of the boys whom we all call "Abuelita"; Elena's gregarious, welcoming brothers Miguel and Louis, and communing with my BFF and sister Robyn and her most wonderful partner Jimmy and my most special cousin, friend, heart of my heart, my dear Judy and her wonderful husband Carroll. There aren't enough superlatives; this was THE event of the season and I was thrilled to make the trip. I've been to Spring before, but not in a few years, and this was Tim's opportunity to meet some of my family without use of a webcam between countries; he was ready for the "full-on" gathering, agreeing to stay at David and Elena's beautiful home and being surrounded by/subjected to a foreign onslaught! And how did he do? Well, naturally I'm a bit prejudiced, but the early returns have Tim being fully accepted into the fold . . . I think it was his charm, dry wit, and intelligence.

 

We were there for Andrew's First Holy Communion, an event celebrated with gusto at Chez Kusman. The church service was lovely; the children embodied the solemnity of the occasion as they looked a bit pensive and certainly devoted to the day. The church, high-ceilinged, modern, lovely, was standing room only. Parishoners around us sang with enthusiasm, participating with every prayer, every phrase of song. Afterwards, photos of course, and then a crowd awaiting us back at D&E's home. There, short, meaningful speeches about the gathering of friends, family, and the meaning of the day. And then, my, the food! Elena's brother Louis is a fabulous cook, and plates were piled high with traditional Peruvian fare prepared by him and a few others. I recall delicious tamales, Peruvian chicken we saw Elena and her mother, the lovely Abuelita, carefully shred in the morning, rice, salad, and wine. Lots of wine. Fabulous. The kids, mostly boys, splashed in the pool around us, trying to entertain (they all knew Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, but not much else). And as the night wound down, hugs, quieter conversation. Intimacy.

 

Here's a link to the photos--you can view as a guest .Please do look at the captions, as they provide a bit of interesting/useful commentary.

 

Come back again; I promise to tell you--hopefully, perhaps, enthrall you--with stories of Tim's and my journey to the snow and beauty of the Grand Canyon, the over-the-top splendour of Vegas, the long, sparse, quiet drive through Death Valley, some of it along the fabled Route 66, and on to the serenity and beauty of the falls, mountains and tall trees of Yosemite before finding our way into San Francisco and Sausalito for a wedding of my dear friends Jess and Mark.

 

The pictures do tell some of the story--enjoy!