Holbrook to Flagstaff

I've just got home after watching some American football. How anyone manages to stay awake for that is beyond me. I mean, it stops every minute while they...discuss something. I watched the same play (?) 8 - eight - times while they discussed stuff (and by they I mean...I'm not sure what I mean. I only know nothing was going on on the pitch (?)). I feel like I've watched slow-mo, fully-clothed, gay soft-porn. There was a lot of fumbling. My God. I have no idea what the rules are but it appears they can do anything. Is that dude jumping to catch the ball? Wait until he's in the air then shove him out the way. From what I gather, every time they drop the ball the game stops. As there's a lot of dropping the ball, the game stops and starts a lot. A lot. What's that about? Why not just pick it up and keep going? I've no idea. Anyway, it was Arizona against San Diego tonight, so it was everywhere. It's probably not over yet. It might not be over until tomorrow they way they were carrying on. Anyway. I'm way ahead of myself...

Holbrook. I should add that Holbrook is on a stretch of Route 66, hence me thinking it's very Route 66. In fact, Arizona has the longest stretch of Route 66. Most of it is now a 6-lane interstate, but there are parts that are still single-lane, and flanked by motels and diners, such as Holbrook. It's really very charming. Anyway, I only woke up once last night, at 3...ish. I managed to fall asleep after a while and didn't wake up until 6.18am! Goodness me. 

I went for breakfast in the motel, and had a boiled egg and the biggest bagel I've ever seen. I also had lots of good coffee. The Americans know coffee, I'll give them that. 

It's rained during the night, and the sky is heavy and grey. I don't mind so much as it's still very warm, and rain always clears the air. I head out at 8.15am towards Winslow. Now, if you're an Eagles fan, you'll know where I'm headed. If you're not, listen to this song. There, on the corner, is a flatbed Ford. It's perfectly kitsch. I'm incredibly aware of myself as I take a photo. Oh well. I'm just a tourist, who am I kidding. I head to a shop and buy something for my unborn son. I know the wife will hate it, but tough. I'm caught up in the Americana of it all. 

I walk down the street and again, find myself pulled towards a diner even though I only ate breakfast an hour or so ago. I really only want coffee, but end up having bacon and eggs. And coffee. It's lovely. From there I hit La Posada hotel. This, I'm told, is considered the pinnacle of southern architecture. It's really very nice, but I'm afraid I'm not the right audience. What is interesting though is it's history; it's a Harvey hotel, run by Harvey girls. You see, back in the 1920s, the railroads ruled America. Fred Harvey, an Englishman no less, realised that there weren't any decent food and sleep stops at the many stations across the country, so set about changing that. He opened up restaurants and hotels in 12 states (I think), that to begin with were staffed by men, as was the norm back then. However, the men soon proved to be too drunk/rude/messy, so he took the incredibly drastic decision to hire women. This turned out to be a very good idea, and the women, a really rather unique group back then, became known as Harvey Girls. La Posada was said to be the finest of Harvey's hotels, and one of the most popular. Winslow was a real hub back then. Everything Arizona had to offer was (is) relatively close by, and both rail and road (66) passed through. It was a completely different place. Although it was only open for 27 years, everyone who was anyone stayed there, like Shirley Temple, Charles Lindbergh (who also designed Winslow's airport), Bob Hope, Howard Hughes, John Wayne, President Franklin Roosevelt, President Harry Truman, Albert Einstein, Amelia Earhart, and The Crown Prince of Japan. Phew. It's all pretty cool, and yeah, it's not hard on the eyes either. I feel like I should also mention the architect, Mary Elizabeth Jane Colter, who was also pretty revolutionary at the time, given that she was an architect and a woman to boot. All these women. 

A room of sorts

So after a bit of wandering, I hit the road. I'd spent about two hours at Winslow, far more than I originally intended, so I wasn't really sure where I was going or what I should do. I ended up heading towards Second Mesa in the Hopi (an American Indian tribe) Reservation.

I've not been here before and it's very beautiful. Long roads. Really, really long, straight roads. Not much going on at all, but all the more lovely for it. 

By the time I hit the T-junction that gives me the possibility of heading straight to Flagstaff, my ultimate destination for today, or Page in the other direction, I've decided to head to Page. After all, there's burgers and Horseshoe Bend, and who doesn't want to see Horseshoe Bend? First though, I pay Slackers my annual visit. It’s a nondescript place and you really wouldn’t expect much out of it, but aren’t the best places often like that? For three years now this place has served me the best burger I’ve had. It’s big, it’s juicy, it’s simple, and by God, is it tasty. I had a twist on my usual half-pound cheeseburger with fries, and went for the half-pound cheeseburger with bacon – no fries. It was delicious, and over too quickly.

I head on to Horseshoe Bend, which is every bit as wonderful as ever, and after a walk and some photos, I find a nook and sit for a while. It's very peaceful, and while still overcast, very warm. I love it here. It's got to be one of my favourite places on earth. I find it very similar to - this will sound weird - some places on the west coast of Scotland. I think it has to do with the emptiness of it all. The aloneness. One might be hot, dry and in the American desert, the other, cold, mostly wet, and on the coast of Scotland, but ultimately, the feeling is the same. They give you space to think, which is always a good thing. I think lots of things, mostly about up and coming son, and how life will be afterwards. 

Strata, dude

But, there's only so much thought in me and I soon realise that if I want to get to Flagstaff at a decent time, I should get going. So I do. Through flat plains, red rock and green forests, and all the way to lovely Flagstaff.

It's great here, it really is. It's so damn chilled. The beer scene is outstanding. I bought 6 craft beers for $10. That's 57 DKK, or £6.21. You can barely get a bottle or a pint for that much back home. I had to get six because of the price. You know how it is. Anyway, people are friendly, the buildings are great, and beer is cheap. Did I say that already?

I eat, watch some NFL, have a wander, and here I am. I'm staying up a bit later tonight as I can have a lie in tomorrow. I'm going to explore Flagstaff tomorrow, something I've been wanting to do for years. Lots to see and do. 

Until then. 

Arizona won, by one point.