This may surprise you, but large-scale travel is not my thing. I like my house, my yarn basket, my yard, my coffee shop (taurus). I’m fond of my rut; I’ve spent a long time getting it just right, you know? I suppose we’d all like to imagine ourselves in Lothlórien’s enchanted woods, but were I to inhabit Middle Earth, I’d grow some hair on my feet and find myself a nice hobbit hole. I’m all up for a little explore, but I prefer it in single-serving sizes.
Let’s say I’m taking an alien visitor on a tour of Earth. Maybe I’ve shown him San Francisco. We’ve been to the redwood forests. Now we land in Vegas in the middle of the strip amid the lights and the people, the facades and flashing screens. Trucks parade up and down the street with billboards for every kind of entertainment from circus shows to strippers. It’s 100ºF at 9:00 p.m. on America’s playground.
Three Dog Night is famous for having never been to Spain. I've never been to Vegas. (I've never been to Spain either, but if I were to do a blog purely listing the places I've never been, we'd be in for a long haul.)
I'm returning from a brief business trip to lovely El Paso, Texas, where I experienced what I'm told was a hundred year flood event. My hotel was without internet and, indeed, without telephones throughout the duration of my stay.
I saw the Rio Grande with water in it. I'm told this is a rare experience.
Now I'm parked in yet another gate in yet another airport for yet another layover. The sunny, dry Phoenix airport has free wireless internet and I feel as though I am slowly reconnecting to the world.
Random thoughts from space:
Shawn and I are taking a little vacation in Bodega Bay this weekend. He got us a room at The Inn at the Tides, a very nice little place. Incidentally, Hitchcock filmed The Birds here, so there are lots of photos of Tippi Hedren all over the place. We meant to re-watch the movie before we got here, but didn't get around to it. Needless to say, all the birds we've met so far have been polite and aloof.
Waiting in the Sacramento airport the other day with grumbling tummies, my mom and I headed over to a Java City counter. Mom ordered a latté for her and one for Dad. I stepped up to the counter. "Excuse me, do you have chai?"
The lady behind the counter said, "No, but we have soy."
Mom and I stared at her, blinked, and then stared at each other. Blink blink.
In my head I ran through a scenario where I walk into a cafe:
Day 4: History and Homesickness
Today we walked through a small farmers market in James Bay. No fruit and very few vegetables. These things are surprisingly sparse and expensive here when one is accustomed to life in California's central valley. It never occurred to me that one might have difficulty locating ripe bananas or oranges. The local grocery store here has California strawberries for $4/lb. I can get them for $0.99/lb at home from the stand in front of the strawberry field.