Gary and I just got back from a vacation, a true vacation!, just the two of us, the first since 2000 when he and I drove to Gatlinburg, TN for Dale’s wedding and that wasn’t entirely a vacation because it was a very short 2-3 day trip and we shared a house with two other couples and they filled the house with smoke from oil in a too hot skillet and overflowed the dishwasher by putting in regular liquid dish soap. Grant was just a few months old so I was probably ready to get home soon anyway.
And before that, our last vacation together was probably to San Diego and that was before we had Jack and not long after we got married when I was working at the prison so probably 1997? So anywho, it had been awhile since we really had time to ourselves.
We sorta randomly picked a vacation spot for this trip. Neither of us had been to New Mexico so we just picked that. I booked a flight to kinda cement the plan a couple of weeks ago and then filled in the blanks on getting a car and places to stay and planning what we would do.
Sometimes spur of the moment is a good thing.
We had an incredible time.
This account is mostly for our own record so don’t feel like you have to keep on reading. As a kid, my travelling Grandma never left home without a notebook and pen and kept detailed information like:
Left home 5 a.m. Mileage @ 45990. Got breakfast in Effingham, $2.95. Headed east on I-70. Saw a man with a dog.
Really, it was very detailed. I had fun adding in my own notes to her journal like
Woo-whee, do I have to go P!
I keep thinking someday it will be fun to go back through those.
So anywho, I have been brought up to think a written record of your travels is a requirement so in this modern day, here’s our travel account.
We flew from ST L to Dallas early Friday morning. It musta been too long since I last flew because I was completely giddy at the take off. But I think I always am anytime I fly. I love the sensation and it is a huge thrill for me to realize I am on a plane and flying through the AIR. Love it! And I watch everything out the window. God forbid if I don’t get my window seat. This trip, Gary always made sure I got it. I have to say, though, my neck really got all twisted up from watching out the window so long.
And I like to take pictures. We were going though the fluffiest clouds as we left ST L. And then at that moment we rose out of them and the sun was visible above them, I think I drew in my breath out of excitement and then I screamed a little mini scream. I made sure that it was packed-airplane-appropriate. Just a mini scream. 
Gary was laughing at me, thinking I was acting like a five year old.
At Dallas we had to/got to, depending on your point of view, switch planes. While walking through the airport, we counted men in cowboy hats and then rated them as good guy or bad guy based on their hat. Airports are so fun.
We boarded the next plane and a gal sat by us. It was Julia, yes our sister!, but her name was Carmen and she had black hair. But it could’ve been Julia’s hair and definitely her eyes and smile. Same age. Even her way of talking was so Julia. Finally I asked Gary, “Is she reminding you of Julia?!” and he said “Oh yeah, from the first minute.” That was a riot!
She was a talker so neither of us read or anything. I managed to look out the window some, though.
We landed in Albuquerque and we were in our shiny but scratchy black Toyota Corolla headed up the highway by 11 a.m. We found a little restaurant called John and Donna’s in the town of Bernilillo and right away was introduced to three things very New Mex: Chiles, sopaipillas, and the dry air. We learned about the choice of red and green chile peppers with our lunch. I watched and copied an old, old woman eating her sopaipilla dripping with honey right along with her main dish. I learn quickly sometimes.
And we knew there was something to that low humidity business when even the men’s room had hand lotion right by the soap.
We don’t really ever see that at home.
That was the start of our heavenly Mexican meals and I’ll just tell you right now, every single meal out on our trip was Mexican. I loved it and it worked out great since my New Year’s Resolution for the past two years has been to have Mexican at least once a week. Seriously.
We drove on to Santa Fe. Well, Gary drove and I siesta’d a little, apparently missing some fabulous scenery, but I was awake as we drove past pueblos and reservations and a fire and terrain unlike any I have ever walked on before.
Once we hit Santa Fe, you could just sense the oldness of the town, especially in the area we headed to for our lodging. Wow, the streets were tight and the adobe homes were sitting right there at the street. No sidewalk between but maybe a weak-looking wooden post fence that we later learned were called coyote fences.
Santa Fe was so quiet. Gary loved that aspect so much. I don’t know if it’s something to do with the sky having all that spread out ness or if the people are just so calm and laid back but it was rare to hear anything.
Yes, for $75 a night. It was awesome. Fort Marcy Suites is what you want if you visit Santa Fe.
I took even more pictures of the bathrooms and closets and stuff because we were both thinking there were some good ideas there for us when we design our new addition. Two walk-in showers, for example.
We were right by a park so we took a little hike. I could feel the affect of the thin air right away, just kinda overly out of breath just a little, as we climbed hills but that was about the only time on the whole trip I noticed it.
Well, one other time also and I’ll mention that when we get there.
The sky was just gorgeous blue and the ground and landscape were interesting colors also, rust and coppery, but in my camera shots, it just sorta comes across as tan. We saw cacti and lots of dirt and rocks.
We walked on to what I would guess was the heart of Santa Fe, the Plaza. We walked through art galleries and shops and watched street entertainers from park benches on the square. There were lots of tourists, but also lots of local couples as I got the impression a very Friday night thing to do is to go checkout the art galleries and restaurants in this area.
I saw some things I would not have minded sending home. Of course there was a range of under a hundred dollars to hundreds of thousands of dollars. Paintings and sculptures and pottery and jewelry and everything artsy. Beautiful coats even.
We checked out the New Mexico Museum of Art. It’s amazing the age of these buildings, some 300 and 400 years old! Gary was fascinated by the construction and architecture of this inner courtyard of the museum.
We checked out this cathedral since it appeared to be the same saint as the statue we inherited when buying our new place. That would be St. Francis of Assisi, the lover of birds and animals and patron saint of the environment.
I wonder when people pull up to our house, they must think we are pretty devout Catholics with the little protective roofed saint right there.
We didn’t even know really which saint it was until now.
We caught the sunset from our balcony.
That night we had a late supper at a bar and grill place. Steak tacos for me. We made a grocery store stop for a few basics for breakfast—eggs, ham, bread, strawberries, peanut butter, Breyers-- then finally said goodnight at maybe midnight after a day that had started at 4 a.m.
Next morning, Gary called me from the top of a
Next we drove around and did our usual Saturday morning activities no matter where on Earth we find ourselves: yard sales. We found a yoga mat for me, hat for Jack, exercise bands for Gary. Then there was the object that got away that we wished we had bought while we saw it, a really nice backpack that would have come in pretty handy throughout the trip.
We actually went inside one house and it was a old adobe, so simple and cool inside. It was interesting to see, for sure.
We headed a bit out of town to a big flea market. I could not believe the size of the woven rugs there. I loved them and all the metal decor stuff, but we had no real good way of getting any of that stuff home. If we ever drive a truck out there, watch out.
I bought some cards from an artist I chatted with while Gary looked for sunglasses to buy. He couldn’t believe he found none at the yard sales and the ones at the flea market were slim pickins. He found two possible pair but refused to buy them once I laughed at him while he tried them on.
He was happy to find a couple of books to buy while discussing philosophy with the grad student vendor that I nicknamed A Tall Jake Gyllenhaal.
We drove back into Santa Fe and hit the Railroad District for the Farmer’s Market, REI (outdoor-gear store), and FLEA, which is an indoor flea market. That’s where I got lucky and found these.
Something I’ve been looking for for probably six months but hesitated to shell out the $300+. These were brand new, but I think they are actually kinda old from looking at the box, and they cost me $80. I got him down from $110, so fun!
They fit so perfectly and that was the key since none that I had been trying on were just right before.
It was so serendipitous, I think, since they were they only new pair I saw of the two whole huge flea markets and they happened to be my exact size and fit and a plain style like I wanted. Those were my number one souvenir.
Gary was happy with his deal, a nice knife with sheath he bargained down to $5.
Just another note about cowboy boots, apparently there is a huge market out West, or at least in tourist spots, for used boots. We saw so many and many were ones I think we would have called worn-out and just pitched around here. Even those really worn ones were sometimes priced around $100. Many were custom-made and of course are made from some interesting materials, but still that was kinda surprising.
We enjoyed a late lunch at a strip-mall place called Jalapeños and it was probably my very fave meal of our whole trip. Gary and I got steak fajitas for two to share and I cannot tell you how delish the peppers and onions were from that sizzling skillet. I don’t know exactly what was different, but they were blackened to the point of looking totally burnt where I would normally immediately turn my nose up at food like that (I don’t even like brown toast), but they were so good in flavor and absolutely perfect in the corn tortillas. Someone in that kitchen knew what they were doing.
I think I will make a break here and send this to publish while I can and not risk losing the words and pictures. I’ll catch ya on the next post for the rest of this beauty of a drive on Rt. 4 and the rest of our fab vacation. The really racy part is yet to come.
