Desert days

2,000 miles in just over a week, California, Nevada, Utah and Arizona, and we badly needed a rest.

Flagstaff, Arizona is on Route 66 and on an interstate, and we were wayyy lucky to find a Days Inn that met all our demands – laundry, pool that was actually open, internet, TV and civilisation. Now, we’ve stayed in some great and some downright ropey motels, but here is an advert for Days Inn. You can get all this and two massive beds, plus free coffee and apple juice 24-7and breakfast for about 50 bucks, for the five of us. It was with hedonistic and somewhat guilty pleasure that we checked in for 2 nights. We haven’t spent 2 nights anywhere since hitting the west coast but boy did we need a break.

Flagstaff is great – its got route 66, a lovely historic downtown, really friendly people and is very near Grand Canyon. OK its still 7,200 feet above sea level (Pen y Fan is 2900ft) but just the chance to stay in one place for more than an hour and actually acclimatise was really welcome. We vegged, bigtime. But, we did head out for dinner – and met a Brit, surprise surprise. We could hardly eat for the amount she wanted to talk, but she was lovely and so enthusiastic about our trip it really reminded me of why we’re doing it. Now, she looked about 45, but talked about her impending retirement, so there must be something in the air out here! She also roped in another woman into our conversation, and she turned out to be 89. She was great, looked about 70, and planning her trip to the Antipodes. Either botox is rampant or the wild west treats women very, very well. After a good 2 hours trying to eat whilst engrossed in conversation (and a fair amount of evangelistic stuff, must be said) we finally got to dessert. It was such a relief to me to have an appetite again: at higher altitudes I was embarassing at every meal by not being able to force down more than a few mouthfuls, no matter how good the nosh. Rhys was dutifully reciting his capitals (now up to 60, folks) and it just felt good to be in one place. The pool and spa at the Days Inn were reminiscent of radium hot springs, and deserted. Bliss.

We did do SOMETHING – we spent a morning at Lowell Observatory. This is, believe it or not, where Pluto was discovered and where it was first hypothesized that the universe was expanding. The Clark Telescope is over 120 years old and many tons in weight: luckily, ours were the only kids on the tour and so they got to move the massive telescope and rotate the roof! They loved the whole thing, and so did we. It totally reinspired me about astronomy, and makes me vow to get my 6″ reflector lens telescope up and running again.

When Lowell came to Arizona, there were 200 people living there. Unfortunately the dome roof he had lugged across the west from Boston didn’t fit (!!) so he walked down into town to find an observatory roof maker. The only vaguely suitable firm he found was a bicycle shop, which serendipitously had the words “we fix or invent anything” over the door. And so, they designed a rotating roof made entirely of ponderosa pine strong enough to withstand the heat and the snowfall. It was so good, they got commissioned to build the next one, too.

Now we are slightly upset that Pluto has been downgraded by the International Astronomical Union, and is no longer a planet. Apparently its elliptical orbit around Neptune means it literally cannot hold its own. Rowan is so upset by this, she is planning to start firing missives off to all the UK representatives on the IAU. We had a great time at Lowell, and would have loved to have been there for a night-time viewing of deep space objects, but alas time creeps on and the coast beckoned.

We could have driven almost straight to San Diego on decent, fast interstates, but there are far too many alluring places on the map. So, after our much needed respite, we hit the road and made a spur of the moment decision to visit Joshua Tree. After all, U2 can’t be wrong, can they?

The nearest habitation was Twenty Nine Palms. It sounds like a beautiful oasis in the desert, but … no. It turns out to be a pretty poor Hispanic transient town with a huge marine base. Barbers offered civilian as well as marine haircuts you’ll be glad to know, and the fences were festooned with “welcome back our heroes of Iraq” banners. The only decent motel was full, so we ended up in one that was plain seedy, with 4 hombres opposite us sitting outside drinking crates of Coors, looking hard with bandanas and tattoos, and refusing to say hi. The room smelt less than wholesome and we were the only white faces. The hombres drove out with boom boxes blasting for 3 more cases of beer, and paranoia did start to set in. The kids all picked up on our slightly stressed anxieties, and we had tears from all before bed. Joe must have got about 2 hours sleep, and Jenna wasn’t much better. Of course, it is all paranoia. The guys opposite went to bed early and left at 4.30am (at which point Joe, Jen and I were all awake!) and the car remained unbroken into. Not the best night we’ve had, and unfortunately a big contrast after the relatively luxurious Days Inn.

The big selling point of Twenty Nine Palms is its proximity to Joshua Tree, however. Joshua Tree National Park is at the meeting of the Mojave and Colorado Deserts, but still has a rich variety of flora and fauna. Spectacular onion skin weathered rocks sit amongst the famous trees, plus fabulous towering yuccas and bizarre deciduous giants, while jack rabbits and desert rats are easy to spot on the sand. We didn’t see the rattlesnakes or tarantulas that also live here, much to Rowan’s relief.

Up and down again, through more desert, inland seas and beautiful oases, and we were finally en route to the coast. The west was finally won, after massive navigational nightmares, and we reached San Diego and sea level at last. So here we are, back in a city and at the Pacific, and basing ourselves at the Days Inn (of course) for a blissful 4 days of r&r on the beach and at the zoo.