The Random Nights of Vegas

What happens in Vegas is supposed to stay in Vegas, correct? However, a little bit of the Vegas story always leaks out. Maybe an exaggeration or maybe a shrug...something about Vegas always gets out. Of course, everyone has their own expectations about Vegas. Lots and lots of alcohol, strippers, gambling, spontaneous weddings, and all-nighters usually come to mind when I think of Las Vegas. 

That’s not quite what happened during my stay, but I did see many, many things, and I did meet a lot of very random people. I think the best word to describe Vegas is random. Because above all things Vegas is random. The people are random, the places are random, the restaurants are random, the hotels are outrageously random. You cannot predict what’s going to happen to you when you step out of your hotel room. All bet’s are off; no predictions can be made. Another thing about Vegas is that you always end up in random places. You might set off for one direction and end up in a completely different one. 

I am now going to break the number 1 rule in Las Vegas, and I am going to tell you exactly (well maybe not completely, but we’ll see) what happened to me in sin city. 

Here goes, and don’t judge me on the following post. This was a completely different world for me. I was out of my element. I felt like a guppy thrown into a shark-infested ocean. The trick is to learn to swim and to swim quick. 

Pre adventure, we wander around MGM and discover the most hilarious asian lady playing blackjack. She bangs the table every time she loses, wins, or ties with the dealer. If she wins, she does a dance and starts singing oldies songs. She looks at me and tells me that I need to wish her better luck. She loses. She grabs her bag and throws 2 grand on the table, and tells the dealer to keep going. She loses again and throws another 2 grand on the table. Clearly my presence is not helping her at all, so I leave and decide to stare at the lions lying around like the lazy beasts that they are while a trainer jumps in and feeds them. Heck, if I would go and stick food down a lion’s throat, for all I know, he might decide he wants to eat me and put me down his throat.

We decide to go clean up and get ready for our night out because Vegas is a night town. You can go out during the day, but the night is when all the action happens, but first things first, we all need to look semi swanky to go out in this outrageous town.

1. Mandalay Place at Mandalay Bay Hotel

Now gussied up, we begin our night by first filling our stomachs. Burger Bar by Chef Hubert Keller seems like a tasty choice. The house favorite is a buffalo burger with spinach, grilled onions, and cheese on a ciabatta. So I decide to try this $20 burger and see how it goes. I’ve never paid $20 for a burger in my entire life. I’ve paid it for a steak, for a salmon, but never for a burger, but why not it’s Las Vegas. The sides range from skinny fires, sweet potato fries, zucchini fries, to onion rings. The zucchini fries are my personal favorite with their zangy center and crispy outside. The buffalo burger is very tender and literally almost melts in my mouth, the spinach and the ciabatta are a nice combination, and we all swap our plates to try everyone’s different burger combos. Now that we are relatively full, we decide to attempt the Vegas Nightlife.

1. Bellagio Hotel

You cannot visit Las Vegas without going to the Bellagio and checking out their water show. It’s absolutely spectacular. The water shoots up and sways from side to side in rhythm to the song that’s playing throughout the air. yes, it’s water shooting up and down, but it’s downright gorgeous. I loved every second of it. Part of me wanted to sit and watch it over and over again, but there’s too much to do in Vegas. You cannot just sit and watch water in Vegas, you have to go and explore Vegas. So here goes.

1. Hard Rock Hotel and Casino

I decided that since I was in Vegas, I had to at least play cards...just a little bit. I play all the time at home, so why not play for real. It’s part of the growing up experience, right? You go, you play a little, you learn a little, you lose a lot. Hard Rock is Jennifer’s favorite casino, so we decide to lose our money there. I coined it as the casino for the “cool people” because the clientele here is definitely different from the clientele from the previous places. Everyone is dressed very sleek. The men are in suits and the ladies are in form fitting dressings. The first thing, I see when I walk in the giant doors is a go-go dancer on top of a poker table. Yes, that was a first for me. I usually don’t frequent places with go-go dancers, so I was a tad shocked at first, but like I said earlier, it’s Vegas, so you have to learn and adjust quickly, or you will get run over by the person behind you. I continue walking around the casino as if a go-go dancer is a part of my everyday life and Jennifer and I pick a table where we are going to play blackjack and everyone else is going to watch since they don’t know how nor desire to play. I decided how much I was willing to lose before I even sat down at the table instead of sitting down, starting, and ending up losing who knows how much. We get our chips and the game begins. The guy on the far end of the table is doing really well and has actually won quite a bit. He clearly knows what he’s doing and is actually playing two different hands. I whisper to the dealer that it is my first time ever doing this and she smiles and tells me not to worry that she will help me out. 

I win my first hand.

An outrageous prideful feeling rushes through my body. I mean seriously, there is something very satisfying about winning a hand and watching the chips that you won being put in your pile. You crave more instantly. I lose, I win, I lose, I win, I win, I lose, lose, lose, lose,lose. Yeah, I definitely starting losing more than I was winning, but I didn’t care. I simply loved being there. I loved tapping the table when I wanted the dealer to hit me with another card, I loved throwing my chips down for a bet, and I especially loved when I won a few chips. I quickly understood why it was so addicting. You really don’t won’t to stop once you start. But of course, I had to stop because I ran out of chips. A large part of me wanted to throw more money down, get more chips, and keep playing, but I knew better. I knew I had to walk away now because we were done yet.

1. Cab

Cabs drivers are crazy. Literally. They have outrageous personalities, outrageous comments, and outrageous reasons for being in Vegas. A guy from New Orleans picks us up and starts speaking in such a deep voice and saying such random things that Katelin and I burst out laughing in the back seat. He gives everyone weird looks and gives very weird reasons for living in Vegas. I’m very happy when we pay him and depart. Our next cab drivers tells us about people throwing up in his cab and having a hazmat team coming out and cleaning it up. We pick his brain for stories of his most random encounters and he tells of the most outrageous things his customers have done. Another cab driver complains of his ex wife causing him to move out here, and how he cannot stand his current wife’s family. Cabs are too small. Next time we are getting a limo with a privacy window...we don’t need a conversation with anymore crazy people.

1. Nine Fine Irishmen - New York, New York Casino

This is a true authentic irish pub complete with a live Irish band and tap dancers. The interior takes guests over to Ireland despite the fact they are in a hotel that is a replica of New York City. The place is jammed pack with people, dancing and singing along to the Irish band. Mom and Jean find a table in the back corner and make themselves comfortable. Katelin, Jennifer and I decide to socialize. We meet a very nice and very sane young gentleman from France who is over here visiting his sister. We have a lovely conversation with him or at least attempt to above the raucous of the crowd around us. We actually are quite close to the stage and the little irish dancer is only three feet away from me, so it is amazing that we can hear him say anything at all. Katelin goes off to find someone else so talk to while I go check on my mom. That’s of course when all the craziness ensues. An irishman with a spiked jet black mohawk and piercings all over his face and ears has found my two elderlies and is chatting them up. I walk up and smile and try to figure out what is going on. He looks at me and with dread I realize he has formed an attachment. 

Oh dear God. 

He begins telling me how beautiful I am. How nice I am. How he wants to be my friend and who knows where everything could lead. Apparently he is a poet and beings trying to tell me of his poetry before I cut him off telling him I have to find my friends who I left with the French guy.

“The French! No! NO! You cannot go with a French Man! They are women!” - He bursts out.

I stare at him shocked and then quickly run away to find the sane people. Katelin has discovered 5 men visiting from Switzerland, and of course, our accents are adorable to them. I stand and talk to them for a little bit before we are interrupted by an elderly lady who might make the 4’11” mark (although it is debatable) who is dressed all in green. She darts and dances around better than any of the younger people in this pub. Immediately all conversation stops and cameras start flashing. To my horror, the crazy irish guy shows up beside me. “There you are, beautiful!” He exclaims. 

Oh No! Not cool. I attempt to distract him by introducing him to the Swiss guys.

He turns to me, “They’re liars! They aren’t from Switzerland!”

I look at him as if he’s crazy. 

Well...he is crazy.

“Beautiful, you don’t want to mess with them.”

No, more like I don’t want to mess with you, I think to myself. He continues on about his poetry and I nod as I watch the band who is way more interesting than this lunatic. The frenchman comes and says his goodbyes in the french style with two kisses on the cheek and leaves with his sister. Why can’t other people be as sane as that guy?

I go find mom and Jean who have moved to lovely outdoor table to get some fresh air. Anything to get away from the crazy mohawked irishman. 

Jennifer and Katelin come out and join us, and the five of us are enjoying ourselves when next thing I know here comes you know who.

And this time he’s got all of his friends. Apparently they are an irish band too. Oh that’s just fabulous! They all want to sit and chat with us. The crazy guy who actually goes by the name of Adam wants to continue to recite his poetry, but I tell him in America no one can recite poetry to a lady unless they first recite it to their grandmother, and I point to Jean. He looks at me bewildered, and I not. The only way he can continue is if he first recites everything to Jean who I know doesn’t want to hear a word this crazy guy has to say. Finally, Jennifer steps in and tells him and all his soggy bottom boy look-a-likes to go away and leave us to enjoy our evening on the strip. 

He looks at Jennifer and starts accusing her of hating him and then starts rattling off disputes between the English and the Irish. How the heck that came into the picture I have yet figured out. I mean what England has to do with him reciting poetry to me and Jennifer telling him to go away has yet to be determined. His friends tell him that he has to go now because he is getting too loud. He looks at me one final time and tells me that he thinks I’m beautiful and who knows where it could have lead. He gives me his name and tells me to look up his poetry. I sadly don’t make him any promises. He then looks at Jennifer and reminds her that she hates him.

She just shakes her head. 

They disappear inside and we are finally left to ourselves. It’s now 2am, but the music is still going inside.

1. The next morning in my hotel room.

I can only handle one night in Vegas. My personality requires order. Chaos is fun for certain moments. It’s entertaining when its needed, but in everyday living, I need the order and stability that Vegas lacks. I need sense, and I need reason. Vegas provides neither of these. So as I sit and reminisce over my outing in Vegas, the only word that can come to mind is random because Vegas is just a random place. And another about Vegas...what happens there is meant to stay there for a reason...

Dizzy in Los Angeles

Los Angeles. There’s a ring to those words. My mind conjures up many different ideas about L.A. The city is a melting pot of world cultures, struggling actors, aspiring writers, directors, fashion designers, singers, and every other kind of person in between to fill in all the gaps. In Los Angeles, there’s a slot for everyone of every kind. In all my traveling days, I have never seen a city so spread out, so diverse, so mismatched. Beverly Hills screams money, Venice Beach is fueled with craziness, and Hollywood buzzes with tourists. Whatever floats your boat, there is a neighborhood for you. 

We’ve got four days here, and there’s no way we can cover a thumb of the things to do here, but being this has thus far been a trip circled around food and excitement, we will stick to those things. 

After we pick up Jennifer who is our go-to-guide for the L.A. area, we head out the door for some food. It’s time for a western institution, IN-N-OUT Burger. People have raved and raved and raved about it, so I cannot leave until I’ve had one of their burgers, so I might as well hit it on the first day so that there won’t be a chance that I’ll miss it. IN-N-OUT burger reminds me a little bit of Five Guys. You go in, you tell them what number you want, and how you want your fries, and you take your number and have a seat. Outside, we sit down in the cool of the Californian afternoon and have a quintessential burger experience. Jennifer orders the animal fries which are smothered in a secret sauce, grilled onions, and cheese. Talk about a mouth full of flavors. Crazy deliciousness. The burgers are good, the fries are good. First food experience in Cali is good. 

And honestly the food continues to be good. The next day at lunch we munch at the Aroma Cafe. Giant plates of salads and panini sandwiches entice our eyes and make it hard to order. Not to mention the giant cakes, muffins, and cookies in their dessert display case. My goodness. I’ve said before that everything out west is bigger, but even their food. Their food out here is huge! Portion here are humongous. Finally, mom and I decide to split something so we can get lattes and dessert too. We have a turkey and pesto panini with a side Caesar, but the star of the meal is the final course. Sweet, creamy vanilla lattes accompany a rich, luscious tuxedo cake. Layers of cake and sweet cream icing send everyone into overdrive. Afterwards, we head to Griffith Park, the infamous Griffith Park. All those celebrity magazines have picture after picture of celebrities walking their dogs or pushing their kids in swings in Griffith Park, so of course, we have to go to Griffith Park and head up to the top so that we can see the infamous Hollywood sign. After we park, we walk up the hill, and immediately the freshness of the air hits me. It smells really really good up here compared to down in the valley. I suck up the air. My lungs rejoice in the freshness of this air. At the top of the hill, resides a giant conservatory which is absolutely brilliant for those who love science, astronomy and whatnot. 

I sadly do no fall into that category. I’m all for staring at the stars, but as far as understanding why the stars are the way they are, I don’t have clue, nor do I truly have a desire to discover that long lost clue, but my hat (or hair band technically) goes off to those who do understand it. One really cool thing that I will point out is that the conservatory actually houses Galileo’s telescope. Now, I think that’s really cool because that relates a little to my history studies. Galileo is the man when it comes to studies of the skies, so the fact that my little eyes have gazed upon the telescope that let his little eyes gaze upon the heavens is kind of neat actually. 

We do the tourist thing and take pictures of the Hollywood sign and carry on our merry little way. More tourists things follow and we take the metro down to the Hollywood Walk of Fame where anybody who’s ever been somebody has their star here. I run around and read all the different names, pointing out the ones I know and shrugging at the ones I don’t. It’s odd thinking about all the famous people before my time who I don’t know about, and wonder about the people of today’s fame and wonder if they will be remembered 30 years from now. Jennifer had the brilliant idea of getting us tickets to see Jimmy Kimmel Live, so we headed over to his studio to soak in the comedy. First of all, the studio is much much smaller than it is on television, and as soon as you sit down, you are given strict instructions on how you are supposed to behave. You have to cheer, clap, and the like when they say, and you have to hush when they say. They want the audience at home who are watching to think that the present audience is having the time of their lives. Jimmy has a great sense of humor. If you’ve never watched him, you really should. Ice Cube and Melissa Rycroft are the two guests, but sadly neither of these two really excite me. I’ve never followed either one of their careers, so really the only reason I’m watching is to see Kimmel. When the camera starts rolling, he lights up and immediately begins chatting, but as soon as the camera stops, he shuts completely down. I guess funny people cannot be funny all the time. We decide to have our own bit of funny afterwards and go to a Karaoke bar to see if any of us has any talent. I have zero talent whatsoever when it comes to the music department, but as the night is winding down, they finally convince me to join a group of them onstage and we end up singing Sweet Caroline by Neil Diamond. That’s enough singing/comedy to last a week for me. 

Los Angeles is having its effect on me, and I decide to have my hair done the next day. I feel like I need a bit of glam. So, I go to a barbershop on Venice Beach that Jennifer swears by and talk Zoran the stylist into dying my hair a chianti red, my entire head. I don’t want highlights, I want red hair all over my entire head. He agrees and it’s a success. I now have fabulous red hair. The dazzle of hollywood is taking over. We go to the Hollywood Bowl to see the production of Rent, and the beauty of the bowl itself is enough to bring thousands of people up the hill to fill the seats. We have the pleasure of watching Vanessa Hudgens and Nicole Scherzinger prance around the stage. Scherzinger is hilarious with her impression of a cow, but Hudgens needs a little more practice in the dramatic death scene. Of course, I don’t know I would do in front of thousands and thousands of people, so I really cannot say too too much. I would go back and see anything at the Bowl. I love the Bowl. You see! Los Angeles has me amazed at a bowl!

Food is always on the mind in L.A., and we dine at some fabulous places during our quick hop and skip on the west coast. Urth Cafe is one of my favorites because not only can I get Moroccan Mint Boba Tea, but I can also get a killer honey vanilla Spanish latte alongside a bavarian fruit tart. Urth stands as heavenly. We also get sushi at Katsu-Ya which boasts some the freshest and best in town. We eat tender toro and yummy eel alongside giant tempura shrimp. The fish is fresh, tender, and full of flavor, and we almost convince Jean to have a piece of raw fish, but she won’t touch the raw. She’s scared of the worms. The idea of worms doesn’t phase Katelin and I and we dig in. Food, food, and more food. Los Angles is full of fabulous food. Oh and shopping! No, trip to L.A. is complete without a trip down Rodeo Drive. Trust me! It’s worth it.Your bank account might not agree, but just looking at everything and all the shop and designer names give me giddy feelings in my tummy. More feelings. I feel like I’m headed towards dizziness. Los Angeles perhaps itself is dizzy. 

The Rumored Pizza

Rumors somehow, someway get started, and regardless of what people think there’s some form of a kernel of truth in them. I’m not saying that rumors are 100% true, but I am saying that there is something in them in some direction that is true, or else they wouldn’t get started. Usually someone misunderstands or embellishes the truth that becomes the rumor, but still some inkling of truth is buried beneath the rubble. Rumors usually start somewhere with something. Around Phoenix, and in the travel mags and guidebooks I’ve been going through, there is a rumor that Pizzeria Bianco serves one of the top 3 pizzas in the world. Yes, I just said world. I did not say city, state, or country. I said world. My first thought is that I have to try it. My second thought is that we are not in Italy.The second rumor I hear is that there is on average a 3hr wait to get in. I laugh at the second rumor because in my opinion no food is worth sweating in the 100F Phoenix heat for three hours. I mean who in the world would do that? It’s our last night in Phoenix, so I decide that we should check out this miraculous pizza joint. I mean why not? Thinking that I’m going to beat this three hour wait and get there before anyone else, I drag my crowd down there at 4 o’ clock on a Tuesday afternoon while everyone is still at work. I mean who is going to be at a restaurant at 4? When we pull up, I’m shocked. There’s a crowd waiting outside, and the place doesn’t even open until 5. Ok, second part of the rumor has a bit of truth. People are mingling and sipping drinks from the bar next door. I march up to the door of the restaurant and knock thinking I’ll put my name on the list to get in at 5. The lady abruptly tells me that its a first come first serve basis, so basically I have to get in line behind everyone else. GEEZ. You could roast peppers in the sun right now, and we are expected to sit out here in the heat all for a little pizza.

And so we wait. 

And wait, and wait. 

About a quarter until 5, people start actually lining up in front of the door. I dart over and get behind the people in line because I heard another rumor that there aren’t many tables in the restaurant meaning that you really want to get that first seating. The doors open and the lady starts directing people toward their seats. The closer we get the more nervous I get that we aren’t going to get a table. Behind me, the line is wrapped down the sidewalk down past the bar. I don’t know if I would even bother if I were that far back. Inch by inch, we move closer. I peer over the other people’s shoulder trying to see if there are anymore free tables. There’s one and it only seats two. I cringe! Another hour wait. At the door, the lady asks me how many are in my party. 4. 

“4? ok.” She looks around. “Would you like to sit at the bar?”

Sure why not...I mean I’d rather go there than have to wait another hour outside. They let in two people after us and then they shut the door. I quickly count and there are only 44 people seated in this restaurant. The 3rd best pizza joint sits 44 people.

Ok so, here we go, let’s see what these people have got. 

The bartender recommends we order the antipasti saying that its his absolute favorite consisting of local vegetables, local cheese, and fresh baked farm bread. Sounds good to all of us. The place only offers 7 or 8 different kinds of pizza, and all are originals. We each decide to order a different one for variety. Katelin orders one with roasted onions and sausage, Jean orders the closest to a traditional margherita, mom orders one with red onions and pistachio nuts, and I am having issues decided between a white pizza with arugula and a red pizza with salami and olives. I really want the in house mozzarella on the white pizza, but I love red sauce. I express my dilemma to the waiter, and he tells me that he will solve my problem and simply surprise me. 

Ummm..ok why not? I smile and tell him that my experience is in his hands. 

I have an excellent view of the roaring wood fire pizza oven to my right, the very minimally stocked bar (they generally stick to local beers and wines) right in front of me, and the raucous noise of the 40 other pizza eaters behind me. The one room restaurant is made up of brick walls, tiny tables, and oil paintings of simple but gorgeous fruit. Simplicity reigns in this 

The much anticipated antipasti arrives in roaring color, edible art on a platter. Purplish olives, bright red roasted peppers, golden potatoes, yellow pecorino cheese with hot bread along the side. Everything is seasoned simply with salt, pepper, and olive oil. The key flavor in this dish is the freshness. The potatoes melt in my mouth and dissolve into a butter like consistency. My word.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a man standing over near the kitchen emailing furiously on his blackberry. He is simply dressed in a blue shirt and jeans, and his hair is unkempt. Occasionally, he glances around and says something to the cooks shoving pizzas in the oven, but then he eagerly returns to his blackberry. I return to my food. Our  waiter asks us if there is anything he can get us, and instead of asking him for another drink or something, mom asks him about the jars of tomatoes on the wall above the pizza oven. 

“Did you guys can those tomatoes?” Mom asks eagerly. “I can tomatoes all the time when I’m home,” she smiles.

The waiter shrugs, but motions toward the blackberry guy. “Hey, Bianco, who canned those tomatoes?”

Bianco turns around and looks up at the tomatoes. “Oh, yeah that was my momma.”

He reaches over the bar and shakes my hand, “Nice to meet you, I’m Chris Bianco.” 

Chris Bianco as in Pizzeria Bianco, the owner and namesake of this joint, and the chef of the 3rd best tasting pizza in the world. 

I am instantly starstruck. We talk about how he came west from Brooklyn. We talk about his momma and his early days in her kitchen when he was only a child. We talk about his eagerness for local, fresh, organic ingredients. He tells me that his pizza dough is made daily with filtered water and organic flour, and that his pizza’s flavors is derived the fresh ingredients. When he finds out that we are driving to L.A., he immediately starts to list restaurants we need to try, and of course, he is friends with all of the owners. Mario Batali is his good friend, oh and Jamie Oliver is his “buddy.” Oprah and her best friend Gail have eaten here several times. Rightt...This one room restaurant is turning into an eating studio, home to a food artist who is connected and connected well. 

He chats to all four of us about our drive and wishes us well before he heads outside to return to his blackberry. I smile at mom. This is way too cool.

Our pizzas arrive. My surprise is set before me, and I squeal in delight. The guy made me a halfer. I got a half white and a half red with fresh mozzarella, arugula, olives, and salami. I feel like I’m looking at a canvas. More edible art. Part of me wants to just stare at the beauty and the other part of me is dying to eat this wonder. I cannot stand it any longer and eat a piece of the white side first. 

Fresh Arugula, buttery mozzarella, salty pecorino on that ridiculous fresh crust - oh my goodness! It’s delicious. Ridiculously delicious! I believe the rumor. Granted, I haven’t circled the globe, but I have been to several places in this world, and this is by far some of the best pizza I’ve ever had. I get about the same response from my three companions. Yes, it’s that good. My red side is just as good, but in a completely different flavor category. 

Mom’s odd combo of red onions and pistachio nuts is outrageous.

Katelin and Jean rave about theirs as well. 

Who would have known? Who would have believed it?

Chris comes back with some fresh peaches from his garden outside and tells us to take them for our road trip. He doesn’t want us to get hungry. He smiles, wishes us the best, continues on with his blackberry, an artist in his own world, his own stage, his own little element. 

I take another bite of my outstanding pizza and relish this moment, for by far this is definitely one of the best.

Yeah, this is definitely one of the best.

One question: how fast can we go?

I only had one question: how fast can we go?

Racing hearts are a good thing? I really really hope so because mine is thumping in my chest. I can feel it hitting my chest cavity and dropping back down again. Banging my chest cavity and dropping back down again. Dust is swirling around me, and I have to peer through my sunglasses to keep my path. And did I mention that its really really hot? Racing hearts, dusty streets, and heat! Where on earth am I?

I am driving a Tom Car in the Sonoran Desert, and I am having the time of my life. 

How on earth did I get here? How did this episode come about. Well, like many episodes in my life, I started asking questions. What can you do in the desert to have fun? How can you become a part of the desert? How can you get down on ground level with the desert? You can horseback ride around here, and yes, I love horseback riding, but at the same time, I wanted a little more of a kick. I wanted something to make my adrenaline levels surge, and my heart to quicken and looks like I’ve done a good job. Mom and Jean aren’t so thrilled. Katelin is! She’s ecstatic just like me. She’s ready to pump the gas pedal. Our tour guide picks us up at the resort and shuttles us and six other people out to the Indian Reservation where we are going to ride. He hands us all bandanas and tells us that it will get really dusty out here, so wrap up and wrap up good. Mom decides to take on the role as bandit. She is now a bandit. Funny, mom. Jean is still looking around like a startled bunny on a late night road. She has no idea what we’ve got her into and she’s a little fearful of what’s going to come. Our cars are the highest end of dune buggies you can get. They are the creme de la creme of off-roading. They remind me of miniature little army tanks, and in outright astonishment I run over and jump in the driver’s seat informing mom that I will be driving her today. Katelin does the same. She is going to drive Jean. Jean looks at all us, and silently ties her bandana and gets in the car. After a few safety speeches, we are off to check out the wild. The Sonoran! The outright grand Sonoran! We zip off down a gravel path which quickly changes to a desert mixture of sand and rock. Dust starts to fly, and the view starts to change rapidly. Suddenly a cow crosses the path of the first car, and we all have to slow. There’s a huge puddle of water and we swerve to miss it due to it’s proximity to the cow. We don’t want a mixture of cow and water for a morning slushy. Our guide wants to show us the riverbank, the only source of life is this dry terrain and where all of the animals come to drink. Approaching we slow and turn off the cars. He warns us to stay away from the low bushes, and we climb up a dirt embankment and we peer out over the water. A neighing interrupts the guide’s introduction to the river, and we turn to see a group of wild horses running through the desert. We all gaze in amazement at the pack that cannot be trained. The Indians here have let them run free all these years, and they rarely come near humans, so we are greatly blessed with simply catching this priceless glance of them. Our attention is so completely enthralled by the horses that we completely ignore the other guide calling our attention to something in the tree. 

“Snake, guys.” 

Yes, he just said there was a snake just feet away from where we are standing. Oh! fantastic! I HATE snakes. They’re slimy yucky bodies. I mean absolutely no thank you. NO, no, and no. I’m ready t get back in the cars and spin off some more in the desert. But not before taking one picture first. I mean you have to take a picture even of something you don’t like at all. So I do, and then I hurry off toward the car, jump in and thank the Lord that this car can go well over 70mph away from the snake. The desert continues to unfold before us and cactus, sand, and faraway distances fill my view. I am speeding through this terrain, but I am able to appreciate it  because it is mesmerizing. I  mean you can not not appreciate it. It’s a burning oasis. Jack rabbits are disturbed by our sudden appearance and run off agitated. Sorry little rabbit. We stop again to take pictures of the view. Even though our entire point out here is to go fast, we do want to actually appreciate God’s beautiful desert. I could thousands of words show you dozens of pictures, but neither would do it justice. It’s one of those moments in life that you’ll never forget because of the combination of beauty and adrenaline. Ok enough soaking in, time to speed off. We floor our way up a mountain. Mom yells all the way up and then the yelling switches to screaming when we start coasting down. A ditch opens up in front of us. There’s no way around it, so we plow through it. Plop. Plop. The car isn’t even bothered. It’s almost as if it looked back at the ditch and said, “ditch, what ditch?” We swerve around and down the trail through the desert following the lead car. I swerve to miss a cactus. Mom doesn’t need a prickly face. Now, we are headed back to the ranch which means we can floor it. 70mph here I come.

Hey Phoenix! Let's see what you've got!

I am waking up at a spa. How can I complain about anything related to a spa? I cannot. I’m not trying to brag, but I feel outrageously spoiled right now. I mean outrageously. I am truly a blessed young lady. Regardless of where I am, I need coffee and lots of it. Today is the first day on this entire road trip that we actually don’t have to drive anywhere, so I am going to enjoy myself and actually indulge in one of my greatest loves. Meandering my way through the pool area, and when I say area, I mean area. There isn’t just one pool. There are three. Three absolute beautiful ones complete with waterfalls. I’m having a terrible time ; )  But this article is not about me gloating about my wonderful spa experience. This is about my adventures in the West, so first things first. Food. Of course, food. Food is always on the top of the list, right next to coffee. My friend Katie who used to live here in the city suggested that I try Two Hippies. Apparently their fish tacos were divine. I had picked a place from a book called Caroline’s that was labeled a “Phoenix Institution.” So do I go with the friend’s suggestion or the institution? Tough one. We pick the easy solution and decide to do the institution for lunch today and have Two Hippies tomorrow. So, we put the address for Caroline’s in and start driving. We arrive in a rundown neighborhood after taking 50 bazillion turns and Amelia, my ever-trusty navigation system, announces that we have arrived at our destination. Rigggggghhhht.

So Two Hippies it is then. 

New address. New direction. Completely different side of town. We are about to add four more hippies to this restaurant. Two Hippies is a teensy weensy corner shack on Camelback Road. It is completely decorated with outrageous signs, bright colors, in-your-face sayings, and don’t forget the giant yellow smiley face. Perfection! What’s even better is that you can buy 3 tacos, yes thats 3! tacos for $5. Read that again. 3 tacos for $5. I cannot resist and order a cactus taco, a fish taco, and a beef verde taco. Delightful lunch indeed. Katelin gets the same. Mom orders all fish, and Jean gets a variety as well. Plopping down on one of the multi-colored picnic tables, we eagerly pull the aluminum wrapped tacos out of the brown paper bag with our names on them. HERE GOES! Verde Beef first. 

And there are no words. Rice, pintos, cabbage, tomato, cheese, hot sauce in a soft corn tortilla. I mean what can I really say? There just are no words. The fish taco is soft and delicate with a spritz of lime and a dash of my favorite hot sauce, Sriracha. But then there’s the cactus taco which is outrageously phenomenal. The cactus is covered in feta and red pepper and actually tastes like a spicy pepper itself. The bite fills your palette almost immediately, and you crave more, more, more. Your stomach, however, says no, no, no. It can only take so much. I mean after two tacos, its done, its full. I did skip breakfast in anticipation, but it doesn’t matter, I must push away from the cactus taco. Of course, this is the exact moment that the lady who waited on us comes and and gives us free acai berry lemonade slush. Oh no! Oh no! Oh no! I mean what on earth do you do when your stomach feels like a balloon and you are handed a freshly squeezed acai lemon slush? 

You do the only thing you can do, you drink the epic lemonade and don’t care how full you feel because you know you won’t eat anything for hours and hours and hours. Gosh I love vacations. You can eat until you’re sick and then go and wander around aimlessly. 

BUT wandering aimlessly has never been my forte, so we drive over to Phoenix’s most famous museum, the Heard Museum. The Heard is completely dedicated to the American Indians. It holds cases and cases of their pottery, jewelry, weapons, tools, makeshift homes, dolls, toys. There is also a fantastic mock shift school display telling the tragedy of the Indian children being forced to attend the White Man’s boarding schools. Walking through and listening to the accounts of the children telling how they felt when they were dragged away from their parents almost makes me want to cry. Their hair was cut, their traditional clothing taken away from them, even their names were taken away from them. They had to completely forget who they were and become in essence a “white person.” The tragedy of this transformation angers me and saddens me at the same time. They lost everything that was them. We take a guided tour and learn the history of only 5 of the hundreds of tribes that are located around this area. There is a trend: survival, family, water.

After all the sadness, we decide to go and do what makes all women happy: shop! North of the city is Desert Ridge, an outdoor shopping area that boasts 110 acres of stores. It also has an IMAX theatre and a Target Greatland. Yes, that is a Target Greatland. There’s no stopping us, we absolutely must go! Did I mention that it was hot in Phoenix? Yes, it’s ridiculously hot in Phoenix. Granted there is no humidity, but when your car thermometer is registering 114F, you really don’t want to be outside. So we cop out of the heat by checking out the IMAX. Being we are a group of four women, we decide to watch SALT. Why not watch a woman beat up men? Of course, no movie is complete without popcorn and a drink, and we are handed the largest popcorn and drink I have ever seen! My eyes bulge, and my mom giggles at my figure walking towards her with the popcorn and drink. Did I mention that everything is bigger out west?

Afterwards, we have to go to Target Greatland. I mean all Target advocates know that its something you don’t pass up. It’s Target Greatland!! My eyes just glow as I walk in. It’s beautiful, and now I have have have to buy something in this gorgeous place. 

After minimal damage to the pocketbook. (And truly it is only minimal. I mean a jacket, earrings, sobe water, advil is very minimal for me.)

Finally It’s time to eat again. We ask the hotel concierge to suggest a place for us, and they actually offer to drive us in their red Cadillac to a local place, the Mission, that offers southwestern delicacies. We order tortillas, white beans, spicy caesar salads, and   a cumin and lime mix of white and sweet potatoes fries complete with spicy ketchup. Again, we aren’t disappointed. The atmosphere feels like a Mission except for the loud music. I highly doubt the music would be allowed in a Mission. It’s really really loud. 

When we get back to our room, there are two goldfish sitting on our dresser. Yes, that’s right, two goldfish. Ummmm...since when do resorts put goldfish in your room? Since Katelin told the front deskman that she liked goldfish. So now we have two new roommates, Spot and Squiggles, in our room. Ahhhh....Phoenix.

Desert meets Mountain unexpectedly.

Driving toward the Arizona border is bittersweet. I love New Mexico! I love the vibrant culture, the colors, the city. Even this morning as I wait for my starbucks, I am enthralled by the crisp morning. It’s chillier here and I’m weird and like it because I like cold weather. So Santa Fe - you are awesome, but I have to go! There is more to see and do. Arizona is calling me. Driving, the scenery never gets old. Over every hill, another mouth-dropping scene unfolds for us to marvel at. The mountains have a red hue which blends beautifully into the sandy landscape. I want to drink in the atmosphere, but it almost seems to big. Almost as if it weren’t real. I keep wondering to myself if I am dreaming if I am really in reality. Maybe it’s too much Inception in my mind. I remark to Katelin that I feel like I’m dreaming, and she offers to kill me to find out if I am or not. What are friends for, right? 

We cross the Arizona border and we run around and jump up and down a few times like giddy schoolgirls. We’re in Arizona! We’re in Arizona! 

We continue onward toward the Petrified National Forest and Painted Desert. We hit the  desert first and I’m overwhelmed by the colors. I feel like God dumped a bucket of pastel paints across the plain and just let it ooze and ooze down and over the hills. The colors range from black to deep purple to violet to pink to rose, and they stretch on and on and on. Again, the feeling of a dream comes up to haunt me again. This place just cannot be real. I feel like my eye sockets need to be ripped out and expanded because they aren’t big enough to take in the scenery. It’s overwhelming. I cannot say enough how overwhelming this place is. 

Oh by the way, it’s monsoon season here in the Southwest. Yeah, I didn’t know that before we left. So we keep getting bombarded with sporadic torrential downpours. The rain will pour like the dickens for 5 minutes and then go away. Then ten minutes later, downpour. Ten minutes later, downpour! Driving through this soooooo much fun! I mean it’s Noah in the flood all over again. Maybe the oversized eyes are crying. 

We drive to Flagstaff which takes me by complete surprise. We’re in a forest...in Arizona! If someone dropped me out of plane and said, “Guess where we are!” I would never in a billion years guess Arizona. It looks like a forest. It smells like a forest. It feels like a forest. The architecture is all wooden and mountain cottage-styled. What happened to desert and cactus???

We have soup and sandwiches at the Wildflower, and then head downtown to get coffee at Macy’s. The coffee is fabulous. It’s old Europe meets hippie. I order a mocha and I get fresh homemade unsweetened whip cream on the top. The barista “paints” me an adorable painting on the top and wishes me on my way. We’re headed to Phoenix and we are all more than ready for a few rest days at the spa in Scottsdale. Driving down 17 south, I take in the most beautiful drive I have ever driven. We are winding through the mountains toward the desert. Cactus begin popping up, and its a wild mix of desert and mountains and I have never seen such beauty in all my life. We arrive at the FireSky Resort and Spa and it’s complete with a fake beach and cabanas. Yes, it’s time for a swim because I have no idea what tomorrow will bring

The Land of Enchantment

This morning takes us on another adventure. We are continuing west on our epic road trip across the United States, and we are entering new territory - New Mexico. Properly dubbed the land of enchantment. Enchantment really is the best way to describe this great state. The welcome center staff greets you and offers you countless free books and magazines. If you ever drive to New Mexico, you won’t need to buy any travel guides before you come because they will supply you completely. The landscape can be described as enchanting, mesmerizing, jaw-dropping, outrageous, gorgeous, splendid, remarkable. There are countless adjectives, but few will rarely give the landscape justice. A swirl of colors stretches for miles and miles in front of the road. The road climbs up and down the hills with red mountains far off in the distance. The sky here seems bigger than the sky back East. I know that technically, it’s the same sky, but honestly, the two cannot be compared. This sky just opens up and swallows you. The clouds are the toppings, and you are the sky’s snack. The clouds are definitely bigger too. Big, white, puffy clouds “dot” the sky. If I could, I would jump up and jump among them. Ahhhh New Mexico, I just feel giddy driving through you. Honestly, my mood actually goes from happy to giddy the farther into this state, I get. I want to wear red, orange, and yellow, and hug everyone I see. Ok...maybe New Mexico is making me lose my mind. Or maybe it has something to do with the 75mph speed limit which technically means I can drive 80 or 85 mph...yes, I really do love this place!

Santa Fe is the oldest capitol in the United States, so of course, stopping there is absolutely mandatory. The city has beautiful architecture, great shopping, and vibrant culture, but the only thing we want to do is eat. Katelin says she feels that this trip is turning into a food adventure above all other things...and she’s probably right. Eating does seem to dominate our minds and our schedule, but hey eating the local food gives you a taste of the local people and culture, right? Yes, exactly! we decide to lunch at the Tia Sophia - a local (and a Giada De Laurentiis) favorite. A tiny little New Mexican style cafe nestled on West San Francisco just blocks from the main plaza, the restaurant is easy to miss if you aren’t looking for it. Walking in, the first thing to notice is that this place is filled more with locals than with tourists. Clearly it’s a gem that’s being preserved. Today’s special on the menu is a chicken enchilada smothered in a green and red chile (rightly named Christmas) alongside a chicken taco adjacent to beans and rice. All of it is mouth-watering delicious. Every layer has a flavor, and it almost makes you wonder if the food is trying to compete with the scenery. It’s all fresh prepared from family recipes passed down for generations. But the hands down best thing in the entire world is the Sopaipillas. Just saying it now makes my mouth water. Sopaipillas is fried bread that you drizzle in honey and then smother with cinnamon brown sugar. MMMMMMMMMM. IT’s the most surprising treat we’ve had and a wonderful way to end our fiery lunch. Eating these makes me want to eat the entire meal again just so I can get the Sopaipillas again. The only way to get over a giant lunch is to walk it off, and Santa Fe offers street after street of various little lunch spots to do so. Stores are filled with native clothing, leather clothing, dream catchers, shot glasses, and tons and tons of jewelry. Turquoise and coral are big here and the two gems are set in more ways than anyone can possibly imagine in rings, necklaces, earrings, and anklets. Some are reasonably priced and some are hundreds if not thousands of dollars. I ask one salesman why the giant range and he explains that it depends on what tribe made the jewelry, how well they cut the jewelry, and what kind of backing they used. Ahh the intricacies of fair trade. In the main plaza, we have a seat on the memorial to the soldiers and take in the conglomeration of people mingling around with one another. Cars circle the plaza honking and pushing their way through the throngs of people. Against the old word backdrop, the cars seem outrageously out of place. 

Next, we decide to witness a beauty in architecture. The first gothic chapel built west of the Mississippi, Loretto Chapel was known as a catholic girl’s school. Now it’s known as an architectural wonder because of the precise spiral staircase leading up to the choir loft. In the 1800’s, a mysterious man showed up and built the staircase for the ladies, and then disappeared without a trace or a name. He built the staircase with only a few tools and expected no payment. Some ask if he was an angel sent to help the nuns, but no one knows. In awe, we sit in silence for twenty minutes or so simply enjoying the splendor of the tiny chapel. The stain glass and the pews remind one of older days and the serenity there in unbeatable. Next, we go and check out pottery. Mom offers a man $20 for a $950 pot. Yes, $20 for $950. I run away in complete shock, but before I fully escape I hear her tell the man that a chicken would do her better because at least it can lay eggs! MOM! WOW!

We see the oldest house in the city and the oldest mission which are right next to one another. A pizza bar is now right next to them which seems a little out of place, but that’s life in Santa Fe. 

Of course, we have to eat one more time before we decide to call it a night. So we head over to the Blue Corn Cafe. Fresh chips and salsa, blue corn tacos, and more sopaipillas end our day in Santa Fe.  

Yeah, like Katelin said, food, food, food.

I’m not complaining.