Travel

Arizona – the good, the bad and the ugly

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A fantastic trip to the land of Saguaro (suh–gwahr-oh – a pronunciation botched so many times –  I’m flushed as I write), dynamic red rock parks and canyons. The most important question to judge a successful vacation  is  – would you go back? The answer is a very emphatic yes. I’m counting the days (pennies first) until I gloriously return.

Now the review. The good – the climate was amazing (we came back to -30, so in hindsight it was bloody tropical) although it was cool in the morning by afternoon it was time to  slip on the shorts and flip flops only to replace them when the sun went down with a sweater and pants (still didn’t stop people from using a hot tub). The Phoenix area was awesome,  especially the free hiking (suh–gwahr-oh national park in Tucson charges twenty-five bucks to hike and the state parks charge seven). So many trails in great condition although a bit rocky and busy (do not go on weekends). But most importantly – the people were fantastic. Everyone we met was so nice and friendly, you’d think you were in Canada. We soon found out nobody is from Arizona – met a dude from Bellingham and another person from Billings and many from Minnesota.

The bad.  It was much more expensive than I remember (except gas). Wine prices were the same as in Canada  but in American dollars. A nice bottle of La Crema from California was twenty bucks at Trevor’s (I bow to your greatness wonderful wine store mecca). It’s the same price here but thirty percent more expensive in the Canyon State. Food wasn’t cheap either. We didn’t go out for any evening meals, but lunch was a consistent one hundred US although we did have drinks with every meal. One luxury dining experience was at a wonderful  cocktail bar called Parlay where the bill was well over a hundred US. However,  I got many excellent drink ideas and I’ve never had a mezcal cocktail (ok more than “a” cocktail – it was happy hour after all). But even going to Safeway and grabbing a few food items like chicken wings (they were massive) eggs, bread, coffee and greens was fifty or sixty bucks US  (ok and maybe wine and beer a few times). I just remember the States as food and booze cheap, but not anymore, I guess.

The ugly.   Some of the highways were very dirty, especially the Interstates (I learnt to stay off them). Garbage everywhere. Another ugly – it was so hard to recycle. Accommodations had no recycling bins. Not in the rooms, or outside with the garbage containers. I saw one recycling bin in Sedona but if we hadn’t stumbled on it, our many dead soldiers would’ve been lost on the battlefield. We also had car rental issues (holy extra charges Batman) and at one AirBnB, if I heard the “five star stay” one more time, I was going to puke – property developers (the same group wanted me to copy and paste a review they prepared, really!). But developers are everywhere like blood sucking mosquitos.

The state is wonderful from the red rocks of Sedona (the  brightest stars ever) to the desert of Tucson and the rugged parks of Phoenix. However,  next time we will  drive our own car and fill it with cheap gas.

Sober thoughts

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Alcohol free zone - Stock Image - C008/3255 - Science Photo LibraryI don’t go to AA (alcoholics anonymous) although I have considered the option more than once. Who doesn’t during that morning after when your head feels like soccer ball batted around by Liverpool? I also think it’s a great organization that’s saved millions of lives. However, I do like to go “dry” several times a year. A plight that’s been particularly hard recently.

On a monthly dry surge, I ran into a few problems in places that sell alcohol. I get it. Restaurants and bars make a lot of money from booze and in these pandemic times, they need all the extra cash they can get. A reason why I always tip twenty-five percent. At least. (Even if I know my salad was just dragged across the floor.)

Recently, I went out for dinner at a popular pizza chain. A pleasant server came to the table and asked if anyone wanted something to drink. One person ordered a very over-priced glass of wine (I get it. Money. Pandemic.). Another asked for a something and coke. The daily special. Reasonable price if you don’t mind drinking alcohol, you could start your truck with. When it was my turn, I asked, “Do you have any alcohol-free beer?”  The poor server looked at me as thought I just got off the Martian shuttle. I ordered a diet soda.

The next night we went to a bar in the hotel where we were staying. This time I ordered a virgin Caesar – Clamato juice (Ok who came up with this? Some dude is sitting on a sunny patio, drinking tomato juice when an epiphany sounds, “You know what this drink needs? Clam juice.”), tabasco, spices and rimmed with salt.  The drink is also garnished with salad on a stick. This one, had a pickle, spicy green bean and celery. Now, the virgin, of course, means no vodka. With one of these sexless babies on the table you fly right under the sloppy, slurring radar, no one has a clue you’re sober.

However, my second drink was a bit of a scare. I ordered a soda with ice and lime. The thought here was a mock vodka and soda – the calorie conscious drink of the year. But the server brought the drink in a massive cup, super big gulp size. Not very inconspicuous. One look at this drink and, “Hey buddy maybe you need a meeting.”

Now, yea you’re right. I shouldn’t give a shit what other people think. And really, I don’t. But perhaps owners, bartenders and servers should have a bit of sensitivity. If a person orders a non-alcoholic drink. There’s a reason. Not only for health reasons, but the a sober person doesn’t want to be excluded from the excitement of vomiting, slurred words and a million “I love you, man.” Owners, managers, it’s not a big deal to have an alcohol free beer. Even Mexico has an NA beer. And that’s saying something.

NB: This Naked Mind is also a wonderful resource for quitting or slowing down alcohol use.

 

COVID Clampdown in Banff

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So we’re sitting around watching some predictable and boring show on Netflix when I say, “Hey I can get us into the Rimrock for a hundred and sixty a night.” Now the Rimrock is a very posh hotel in Banff,  Alberta – warm bathrobes, slippers and a chocolate on the pillow. (I’m sure they’ve junked all those amenities due to COVID. Who sneezed on the chocolate? Perspiration on the robe? I’m surprised you don’t have to bring your own sheets.) I recheck the price. It’s in American dollars, so one sixty is like a million Canadian. The plan is sinking faster than a Rocky Mountain boulder in Lake Vermilion.

I check again. A small condo at the place we love (Rocky Mountain Resorts) with a separate entrance, fireplace and kitchen is on for a reduced price of one twenty in the Queen’s dollars. A pop up, “Type snowday for a twenty percent discount.” Whooohoo!  A hundred bucks a night and we can bring the little dog and our own food. Yes please. The poor town is suffering due to COVID.  It’s my patriotic duty to help, right? Let the snowday begin.

Now the only rub is I’m in the middle of my “Dryuary” (no booze for the month – my Christamas liver is close to pickled) and I’ve never and I mean NEVER sat in front of a fire (condo or otherwise) without a glass of wine, single malt or beer.  Never. It’ll be a challenge but I’m up for it (for the sake of the town, right?). The next morning we pack up our gear and hit the road. Little dog is in the back seat panting and doing her, “We there yet? We there yet? It’s so hot back here. We there yet?” This lasts the entire hour and a half drive. You’d think she hadn’t had a drink in a month.

Arrival and lunch at our favourite bakery (Wild Flour). We eat in our vehicle while overlooking the frozen Bow River. Breathtaking. Up to this point no contact except to grab lunch and walk it to the car. The town is so dead I feel sorry for all the business owners and employees. Masks everywhere. No mask. No service. Very strict here in the Canadian wilds.

We get to the hotel. Check in is quick. It’s Tuesday at two in the afternoon. Quiet time indeed. We get to the room. Take care of some business and we go for a walk. Normally we use the road behind the hotel. But the town’s had a major snow storm and every ten minutes a gravel truck filled with snow zooms past us. I’m afeared for the little dog. One slip and she’s a new pair kid’s slippers at the Rimrock. I pick her up and dash home.

At home after I get the fire going, I prepare some lovely charcuterie for a session by the fire. Another first.  I’ve NEVER eaten cheese, cured meat, baguette, pickles and fig jam without a nice glass of vino. I’m starting to sweat. Tea. I make some tea. It goes very well with the cheeseboard. Relax. I can do this. Time to break some traditions. New associations. Chamomile and charcuterie.

We hike the next day. Not a single soul on the trail. Well except for a lonely male elk. Midweek – excellent for social distancing. The COVID clampdown is great – barely no contact. We eat inside or order take out. The suite has it’s own entrance so no contact with people in the hall. I consider the gym but I walk and hike instead. The trails are calm and quiet. It’s not only midweek but winter so the vacation spot is nearly dead. In summer you have to step over people to get anywhere. The best part? Who knew that chamomile and cured meat is a match made in sobriety.

The Mall Walk

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Let me describe the weather. It’s brutally cold. So cold cat’s ears fall off. So cold that in thirty minutes your nose turns black if left naked. So cold our city hit number nine on the list of coldest places on the planet. Right up there with the frozen Northern tundra and Vostok Station, Antarctica. Polar bear and penguin weather. And what do you do on frigid days? You walk the mall, but  you must go early. Before the teen hoards wake up and hound their mothers to zip outside, risk frostbite while warming the mini-van and drive them to the mall.

We got there early. The stores weren’t even open and parking was only a twenty-five metre Olympic sprint to the main door. The mall does retain a special magic in early morning especially during the holidays. Lovely to look at the empty Santa workshop (without lines of snot dripping adolescent munchkins)  or enjoy Valentine hearts plastered everywhere like a kindergarten classroom. Even the security dudes don’t give you a second thought because they’re more interested in their morning cup of java.

Today however, I was shocked. After we walked around (5438 steps to be precise) I looked into the food court after ordering my ham and eggs and my jaw smacked the short-lived clean floor below me. Look! A retired dude. Oh my, a happy group of retired women.  Another group of grey haired men.  Look a retired couple. Oh shit that’s us. But we don’t look like the others hanging around the vaccinated eating area, right? I zip to a mirror. Hard to tell in toque and mask. Phew!

Then another slap to the head. Look it’s all the retired people who can’t afford to go to Phoenix or Palm Springs. We are included although even if we had the cash I’m not so sure we’d go with all the restrictions and the global virus disaster. Nope we are happy sitting here in minus thirty-seven freezing our asses off and bingeing Netflix. Who am I kidding? Time to grab the little dog and …

Now would I rather be walking among the California palms or skidding on ice patches? Would I rather be sipping a local California Chardonnay or sitting in front of my TV watching the allied attack on Italy? Would I rather be sucking air cold enough to freeze my lungs solid or constantly worried that I might not make it home. I don’t know but there’s always next year, right? (Didn’t I say this last year?) Hopefully the decision in twelve months will be, do I wear my mask because it’s retro cool?

Fernie, British Columbia

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Bridge in Mount Fernie Provincial Park

I love travelling with the little dog and I don’t mind paying an extra dog fee, but please make sure the room is clean. We get to the room and there  is a brown spot in the middle of the duvet. I’m too shocked to sniff, so I ask my wife but she gives me the, “Yea, right” look. We also find a wet spot in the corner of the room. We don’t need to sniff, a wet toe is confirmation enough, but running through little dog’s Yorkie brain is,  “Hey I need to make this my territory. Move over pal.”

I go the the front desk. They are very apologetic and move us to another room on the second floor, obviously not a pet friendly room (most are on the first floor – easy access outside), but one reserved for bipeds. Little dog hasn’t been feeling well on the trip (nasty dog treat?). Her poor derriere is red, sore and the run off is not pleasant. The dog farts in in the car are brutal and more than once we had to stop to make sure she didn’t poop on the back seat. Thank goodness for air conditioning.

Now I don’t know if it’s karma or what, but in the middle of the night little dog moans and whimpers. We turn on the light only to find she’s marked the bed sheet with a brown coloured skid mark. I pick her up and move her to the other bed only to find I should have wiped her derriere first – bang another couple of Jackson Pollock swipes.

We spent the next day at the laundry mat cleaning bed covers. We could have spared the cleaning if my wife had gone to the front desk and said, “Hey my husband had an accident.” Who would have checked? And I’ve no problem taking one for the little dog.

Now on to Fernie  – first the good.  Tons, and tons of activities to to. The river was flooded with kayakers and floaters. So many places to phone and buddy will come pick you up plop you in the river and pick you up at the end, try here. What a great way to spend the afternoon, floating with your feet in the water, watching the world slowly slip by.   The most preferred mode of transportation in town is the mountain bike. Bring it. Many trails to ride around the surround area, levels for everyone, so if  you hike or bike check this map out.

The Bad: We had the little dog with us. The town is not dog friendly at all. Not even on patios. If we wanted to eat on a patio with the little dog, we’d have to tie her up some twenty meters away. She wouldn’t be  close to us and it’d break her poor little heart. Since we had the little princess with us, we needed take out. The two restaurants I wanted to try – a sushi place and a Mexican joint (both had great reviews) weren’t offering take out. Weird. I’ve never heard of a place in today’s economy that didn’t offer take out. Maybe they have a dine-in space so big they don’t need the extra income.

The Ugly: Smoke. The BC wildfires are raging once again this year. I can’t remember the last time I went to BC in the summer and it wasn’t filled with smoke. Not a great comment on our environmental situation. It wasn’t so bad that we couldn’t get out and walk or run so that’s good. My lovely morning run along the Elk river was amazing but I felt it in my throat and eyes. Make sure you bring eye drops and some lozenges.

Great trip and we’ll definitely go back. Perhaps with out the little dog, but leaving her at home makes travelling less fun. And winter time means skiing!