Shared Experiences make Fast Friends

We were assigned to a dining table for evening meals at the beginning of our cruise. This is always a crap shoot. Sometimes you get compatible and interesting table mates, like the time we were seated with a pair of WWII vets. Sometimes you get people who try to coerce you into their interests, like the fellow who was obsessed with something called "pickle ball" and wouldn't rest until the DH met him on the sports deck for a game.

This time we were fortunate to be placed with Bruce and Judy from California. 

Between the four of us, we've solved the world's problems over dinner several times and often linger over our desert for the joy of continuing our pleasant conversations. So we decided to meet on Nuku Hiva, our last port of call, for a walk-about together.  

I was a little leery about this island because of its head-hunting past and not-so-distant incidence of possible cannibalism. (In 2011, a German tourist went missing and was later found dead under very mysterious circumstances.) But I was pleasantly surprised when we stepped off the tender. The islanders were friendly and the town of Taiohae clean and well-kept.

Still, we kept within sight of the Westerdam...

But this was mostly because it was so very hot and humid that walking too far in those conditions was difficult for me. My portable oxygen concentrator has to work overtime to provide the support I need when there's so much moisture in the air. But we managed to make it far enough down the beach to find a monument to French sailors who died in a battle in those waters in the early 1800's. They must have felt like they'd come to the end of the world. I know I feel a fresh appreciation for the monumental size of the Pacific and I have the benefit of a state of the art cruise ship under my feet instead of a 19th century tall ship.

And since I started this post talking about dinner companions, I'll end it with a pic of one of the unique entrees I've enjoyed on the cruise. This is Nasi Goreng, an Indonesian dish. It's pork satay, spicy chicken and beef Sumatra on a bed of fried rice. It's garnished with scallions, red onion, cucumbers and a julienne omelet. The thing that looks like a fried pig's ear is actually a prawn cracker. Yum!

If you haven't already, let me invite you to sign up for my newsletter. Once I get home, my newsletter readers will be receiving a number of recipes I've collected from the Cuisinary Arts Center on board. I'll also be sharing more pictures from our trip once I'm back on our home wifi. 

It takes F-O-R-E-V-E-R for photos to download here on the ship. 

Thanks for coming along with me on the voyage! 

Sacred Spaces

As long as humans have lived on this planet, we've looked up into the night sky and longed to talk to the One who made the stars. Like Jacob, who set up a stone after he dreamed a ladder reaching to heaven, we tend to mark certain places that have given us sense of special connection.

Since it's Sunday, I thought I'd share a few pics of this sort of place from our very soggy shore excursions. We'll be island hopping a bit.

This first picture is of St. Benedict's from the Big Island of Hawai'i. The church structure was built around 1899 and then a Belgian missionary priest painted the interior scenes (with house paint of all things!) There are idyllic scenes of creation and, in stark contrast, a truly nightmarish depiction of hell on the opposite section of the walls. All the painting has been recently touched up, except for the view of the underworld. Evidently, its purpose is fulfilled without additional embellishment.

The church is still in use by an active congregation. There is a a sweet stillness about it and the green gardens around it add to the peacefulness of the place.

Also near Kona, there is a special place of refuge called Pu'uhonua o Honaunau. If someone broke a kapu, such as letting your shadow fall on the chief's land, there was no trial. The ancient Hawaiians had no prisons. The punishment for any infraction was death.

Unless...

If you could reach a pu'uhonau, you could be forgiven and after 3 days released without further punishment. Of course, this particular pu'uhonau was bounded on all landward sides by the chief's land, so there was no walking to it. An offender must take his chances in the shark infested surf in order to escape his death sentence.

When Christian missionaries came, most of the places of refuge were torn down, but this one survived fairly intact. Several members of the Hawaiian royal family are buried there.

The site was dedicated to life so human sacrifice was not performed on the grounds.

The same cannot be said for other marae. We saw these volcanic rock open air temples on nearly every island we visited, but the one on Tahiti, the main island of French Polynesia, was the largest and most complex.

This marae was guarded by large male and female tiki figures. The statues are not worshipped as gods, but are thought to hold mana (power) during the rituals. The ancient Tahitians had many gods and the rites performed here were to placate them and urge them to aid the people in some special undertaking--a war with a neighboring tribe or a migration to a new island. Only men were allowed inside the marae, but lest we ladies feel put upon about that, remember that the person chosen for sacrifice was picked from those inside the stone walls.

Clearly, this was not a time to be on the outs with the priests!

Now most Polynesians are Christian, about 80% Protestant and 20% Catholic. We were delighted to hear the same table prayer we use sung in Hawaiian. While we're loving this trip and totally enjoying the ship, I have to admit I miss my church. But God, a personal, eternal, omnipotent God, is here in the middle of the Pacific. And however imperfectly we understand Him, however inadequate our worship, He's already reached down to us.

He's just waiting for us to reach up.

Something Cancelled, Something Gained!

This morning we learned that our Glass Bottom Boat excursion on Bora Bora was cancelled due to bad weather (read: occasional torrential downpours!) and poor visibility. However, refused to let a little thing like that get us down. Who knows when or if we'll ever see this island again? As long as the ship's tenders was running, we were bound and determined to have an adventure!

On shore, we found a nice young man named Bruce who offered us a circle of the island tour in his air conditioned Land Rover. He was born on Vanau (the real name of the island of Bora Bora.) His father is an American who came here to run one of the fabulous resorts, and ended up marrying a Tahitian woman. Bruce speaks English, French, Spanish, and Tahitian. He's married and has two beautiful kids.

We learned that formal education ends at age 16 here in the islands and there is no university on Bora Bora. Many people used to work in the tourism industry, but since 9/11, the number of visitors has dropped considerably. There are easily a half dozen resorts standing empty and employing only enough groundskeepers to keep the vegetation from taking over the buildings.

Bruce says that other than needing to pay for water (which is provided through the French government through an expensive desalinization plant) and electricity (also through the government) many people have few bills. The government provides health care, including medications. The residents grow their own fruit and vegetables. They raise chickens and hogs. They fish in the abundant waters around the island. And (I'm sorry to have to tell you) they also enjoy eating wild dog. (We saw dozens of these miserable creatures slinking around the island.) But this is the culture and I can only thank God I've never been hungry enough to eat dog.

The island is spectacular, lush and heavily overgrown. Multiple waterfalls cascade down the steep mountainsides. The lovely, calm interior bay is actually an ancient caldera, the remains of the volcano that gave birth to the island.

During WWII, the US military had a strong presence in French Polynesia. There are still man-made caves that housed cannon to defend the harbor. And in what seems to us today an astonishing disregard for the environment, the harbor was made easier for destroyers to enter by blowing up part of the reef.  Of course, it also made it easier for our cruise ship to visit too.

As wonderful as the scenery is, the people are even more lovely. We stopped at one road-side shop operated by a family. They offered us samples of fresh coconut, breadfruit and grapefruit. I passed on the grapefruit, but the breadfruit was amazing--like nothing I've ever tasted before. A truly unusual texture as well.

Here's the DH taking a sip of extremely fresh coconut milk. The natives use every bit of the plant, from fiber to weave into necklaces and use as tinder to fermenting the shells into coconut oil for use in skin treatments. We also watched the natives use flowers and other plants to create dyes for the sarongs the island women wear.

We also visited Bloody Mary's Bar (think Rogers & Hammerstein's South Pacific!) and walked along a stretch of golden sand, letting the warm waters of the ocean caress our calves. The tour was so much better, so much richer an experience than riding in a Glass Bottom Boat.

Today reminded me that it's foolish to be upset if your plans have to change. Life is filled with moments when things don't go our way.

But it doesn't have to mean things can't be even better than we'd planned.

Taking in the local culture...

Last night we tied up to the pier on Raiatea and for the first time in over 10 days, slept without the pitch and roll of our "water bed." This morning we wakened to a veritable anvil chorus of roosters--each of them trying to out-scream each other. Evidently, the birds roam freely, like on Kauai.

After breakfast in our cabin, we hurried off the ship to see what we could. Because of the rain and worsening conditions, ALL the Holland America excursions were cancelled. But that didn't stop the Raiateans from giving us a very warm welcome just a few blocks away from the ship. Part of the charm of travel is seeing how other people live, how they celebrate what makes them unique. Here's just a taste of what we experienced:

We were so glad we braved the rain! 

Welcome to the Westerdam

Well, we've been at sea since . . . oh, Monday, I think. The days are starting to run together and weeks seem kind of fluid when you cross the international dateline, lose a day and then regain it, ending up with TWO Fridays. The crew is kind enough to remind us what day it is by changing the carpet in the elevators, but which Friday we were on was anyone's guess!

Anyway, I thought I'd give you a tour of our floating resort, the Holland America Westerdam. I love the ship. It always seems as much a destination as any of the ports of call. Like a small town on the waves, it has everything you might want. For example, there's a library in case you've left your e-reader behind. There's even an on board book club.

For people who like to gamble, there's a casino. I usually avoid it when I can because it's the one place on the ship where smoking is allowed. Since I'm on supplemental O2, cigarette smoke is not recommended. But, if you enjoy slots or blackjack, you can lose money any time we're not in port.

I adore art, so the gallery is a favorite haunt of mine. There are several auctions scheduled for various times during the cruise. So far, I've resisted raising my bidding number, but the cruise isn't over yet. There's another one scheduled for this afternoon, so we'll see if I can keep from adding to my collection. I'm afraid to pick a bright hues for my walls or furniture, but my artwork serves as wild splashes of color in my home. The signed print shown here is a Chagall--far more expensive than anything I'd try for, but it's fun to see up close and personal and imagine that if only I were willing to sell a kidney, it could be mine!

The chefs on board are gracious enough to do culinary demonstrations almost every day. And they share their recipes too! In case you missed it, I posted a Sweet & Spicy Pork recipe earlier, and plan to share a great one for Shrimp Kabobs on my newsletter once I get home again. (Hint! This is your cue to sign up for my newsletter in the form to the right!)

Those of you who know me, know that I am the Anti-Shopper, but the ship makes picking up nice things for family and friends easy. There's a clothing shop, and a very spendy jewelry shop that we have to walk through each time we make our way to the Vista Dining Room. They change out the stock as often as most folks change their socks, so if you see something you want, you need to nab it.

Of course, the ship has a big pool and hot tubs on the Lido Deck. But the DH and I have made the spa and Thermal Suite our home away from home. This is a private section of the ship with a large whirlpool and heated stone lounges. We nap on them almost every day.

Then there are the card clubs, trivia games, lectures and classes available. Speaking of which...our native guide Kainoa is about to give a talk on Papeete, Tahiti and it pays to arrive in the theater early if you want a good seat.

More to come...

Fanning Island, Almost...

After leaving Hawai'i, we turned our noses south and cruised for two days, before we finally fetched up alongside Fanning Island early this morning.

It's real name is Tabuaeran and it's part of the very small country of Kiribati (pronounced "Kee-ree-bahs"). The island is a thin cusp of land around the edge of an atoll (read: extinct, eroded volcano), with a fifty foot deep lagoon in the middle. It roughly forms the shape of a footprint, which is what Tabuaeran means in Gilbertese, the language spoken by the 2000 souls who live there. The highest point on Tabuaeran is only 12 ft. above sea level, which makes it one of the most vulnerable places for human habitation in the whole wide world.

There is no electricity. No public water works. People rely on rain catchment systems. 95% of the folks who live there have never worn shoes, even though walking is the main way of getting from point A to point B. We were told to expect to see grass huts. People farm kelp and fashion handmade crafts to earn an average wage of $10 a month. The grocery store is a simple building. No one goes into it. They simply meet the grocer at the dutch door and tell him what staples they need. He takes the spam or other canned goods from the shelves and hands them over the half door. The island receives supplies by ship four times a year.

As a result, there are no services on the island for visitors. If we want something to eat or drink, we must bring it from the ship. We can't take what little the residents have, even if we can pay handsomely for it. What good is our money to them if they run out of supplies before the next ship comes?

Holland America brings extras to the island--building materials, school books & supplies, medicines, clothing, toiletries, and dry goods. And with the influx of tourists who will snap up shell necklaces and distribute goodies, the day when the cruise ship comes turns into something of festival with singing and dancing and fun in the sun.

But this morning when the Westerdam arrived, the sky was lowering. Rain came down in buckets and a squall broke over the island, blasting us with 40 knot winds. The visibility dropped to zero. Tabuaeran is a tender port, which means there's no pier for our ship to tie up on. We'd have to board the small tender boats and ride the waves in, pitching and rolling. Instead, our captain ordered the anchor raised and we pulled away without setting a toe on the atoll. He came over the loud speaker and apologized for cancelling the port of call, but the safety of the passengers and his crew is his first priority.

There was a good bit of belly-aching around the ship, but I appreciated the captain for making that choice. Seeing people living as Hawaiians did 300 years ago would have been fascinating, but it's not worth life and limb. Besides, the fact that we sailed away without stopping is much worse for the islanders, who were expecting a windfall, than for us, who were hoping for a National Geographic moment.

And anyway, the DH and I had already decided we weren't going ashore. If you'd like to know why, check out my Second Wind blog.

When you don't say "I do"...

We all know the magic words that clinch the marriage vows. It's those lovely two syllables--"I do." (Of course, my dad always warned that you should be very sure before you say "I do," because you surely will!)

But I learned that not all wedding ceremonies are the same. In fact, the right word to seal the deal in a Polynesian wedding is "no!" Let me explain.

In the Tahiti village at the Polynesian Cultural Center, my DH and I got to attend a traditional Tahitian wedding. First, this lovely couple performed a beautiful stylized courtship dance.

Then the bride's mother chased the groom away with a broom! After that, the priest called the wedding party to enter the sacred space. Those shiny circles on his headdress and pectoral are abalone shells with the mother of pearl side out to reflect light.

Instead of asking "Do you take this woman/man to be your wedded wife/husband?" a Tahitian priest asks "Will you ever leave your husband/wife?" And the newly weds answer, "No." After the vows, the couple is wrapped in a single colorful blanket to symbolize that they two are now one.

As they went through the ceremony, all the married observers were invited to renew their vows. So the DH and I promised each other a happy, tearful "no" along with the newlyweds. Since we're celebrating our upcoming 40th anniversary, it was a precious moment indeed.

So I married a Tonganese Warrior...

Yesterday, we visited the Polynesian Cultural Center on Oahu. It's a fascinating place laid out in half a dozen little villages, each representing a different island people. Sponsored by the LDS church, most of the kids who work there are students at the Hawaii campus of BYU. They were all unfailingly polite and the dancers were incredibly talented.

But dance wasn't the only skill on display. In the Samoan village, we watched a young man shinny up a coconut tree as easily as if it had a ladder attached. I have no idea how he did it.

And barefoot, no less!

We were treated to fire making demonstrations, basket weaving with banana leaves and island games.

By mid-afternoon, we'd been walking a long way. One of the guys in our group was wearing a Fit-Bit, and it pegged out at 10,000 steps. So we took a break and watched a flotilla of costumed performers on double hull canoes. The dance steps looked tricky enough on dry land, but to dance well on a bobbing raft took some real skill.
The dancers on the Fiji boat were so energectic, the craft started rocking so hard, the kid manning the rudder lost his balance and fell into the lagoon!

But the best part of the day was when my DH was called up to drum for the presentation in the Tonga village. Of course, he was fitted for a grass skirt, but I discovered that he had the camera in his pocket so I couldn't get a picture, doggone it! Anyway, I snapped a pic of him and the fellow running the show afterward. As you can see, he's got the banana leaf crown to prove it happened.

First, the Tonga warrior leaped to center stage, waved his arms and loosed a growling string of words that went something like "OodaBloggaMowmowRhutabega." (At least that's what it sounded like to me.) Then he pointed to my DH and told him to do the same.

Being a good sport, my DH leapt to center stage, waved his arms wildly and shouted "What He Said!" The crowd ate it up with a spoon.

Then it was time for a drum duel. I think my DH surprised the warrior because he kept up with him pretty well. Guess it pays to be a percussionist in college! But finally rhythms got too wild, so my DH slowed down to a steady boom-boom-cha, boom-boom cha, leaned into the microphone and sang, "We will, we will ROCK YOU!"

He totally stole the show! And he already had my heart, so it was great day to be him. In case you can't tell, we are having a blast!

More to come, m'dears...

A Taste of Hawai'i

As you probably know, trying out new foods is a big part of the cruising experience. I always like to choose things I wouldn’t make at home. So far, I’ve had escargot, rack of lamb with mint jelly and calamari fritti.  And part of the fun is in the presentation of the food.

Here are the beef medallions my DH had for an appetizer one night. I swear the meat was sliced thin enough to read a newspaper through, but he says it was seasoned so well, he didn’t mind that there wasn’t much of it. After all, an appetizer isn’t supposed to fill you up.

According to Kainoa, our native island guide, food has always been important to the Hawaiian people. When the first immigrants from the Marchesas wandered north in their gigantic double hulled canoes, some of the most important things they brought with them was food—poi, yams, breadfruit, and their favorite meats, chickens, pigs and (I’m sorry to have to tell you) dogs.

I’m mildly adventurous in the dining room, but I won’t be trying anything remotely canine.

One of the activities aboard ship is cooking classes at the Culinary Arts Center. Today we watched one of the chefs prepare SWEET & SPICY SEARED PORK CHOPS WITH ISLAND SLAW.

Here’s the recipe. Brace your feet. There’s a ton of ingredients, but it’s so worth the effort. I plan to give it a whirl myself when I get home.

Ingredients for Island Slaw (serves 4)

½ cup cider vinegar

2 TBS honey

3 TBS soy sauce

½ cup vegetable oil

¼ cup sesame oil

1 TBS crushed red pepper

2 TBS ground cumin

¼ cup chopped cilantro leaves

¼ cup scallions, finely diced

1  jalapeno, seeded and finely diced

Salt & pepper to taste

1 cup julienne carrot (about one large carrot)

5 cups thinly sliced red & green cabbage

1 cup julienne red bell pepper (about one pepper)

2 cups diced pineapple

¾ cup toasted, chopped macadamian nuts

Whisk together the vinegar, honey, and soy sauce. Drizzle in the oils in a steady stream, whisking to emulsify. Whisk in the crushed red pepper, cumin, cilantro, scallion, and jalapeno. Season to taste with salt and pepper. In a large bowl, combine carrot, cabbage, red pepper, pineapple and nuts and mix well. Add the dressing to the vegetables and mix well again.

Place some slaw on a plate. Top with chops and drizzle with a bit of the reduced marinade.

For the chops marinade

½ cup hoisin sauce

¼ cup soy sauce

2 TBS sesame oil

2 TBS rice vinegar (can substitute cider vinegar)

1 TBS minced garlic

1 TBS minced ginger

½ Teaspoon red pepper flakes

2 (1/2 inch thick) pork chops

¼ cup honey

Vegetable oil

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees

In a large bowl, combine the hoisin, soy sauce, sesame oil, rice vinegar, garlic, ginger and red pepper flakes. Add the pork chops and turn to coat. Remove the chops from the marinade.

Save the marinade and combine with honey in a medium sauce pan. Bring the honey marinade mixture to a boil, then lower heat and simmer for 10 minutes.

Heat an oven-proof skillet over high heat, coat bottom of skillet with vegetable oil and sear the chops until golden brown on both sides, about 4 minutes per side. Pour the reduced marinade over the chops and bake for 10 minutes.

Remove the chops from the oven and set aside a few minutes to rest. After plating the chops, drizzle with a little of the marinade.

Sounds good, right?  

Yeah, but it also sounds like more time on the treadmill to me. Fortunately while we're on board, I get a mile on the machines in the gym. And another couple of miles just walking from our cabin to the dining room twice a day. That ought to count for something.

Anyway, that's my story and I'm sticking with it!

Note: On Thursday, we make landfall in Honolulu. The DH and I will be at the Polynesian Cultural Center pretty much all day, so I probably won't post again till Friday. See you then!

My Life as a Regency Lady on the High Seas

When I used to write Regency set romances as Mia Marlowe, I was amazed at how often ladies of that era changed their clothes during a normal day.

They’d rise and take their breakfast en dishabille, an outfit suitable for only family or receiving very close friends. Then if they wished to take some exercise, a lady would don her riding habit and head for the stables. After that, it was time for a morning dress, though it might well be afternoon before she slipped into it. This was the ensemble for paying calls or remaining at home to receive callers. Later, a dressing gong would sound, reminding the regency lady that she had only an hour to change into her evening finery for dinner.

I’m sort of feeling like that now on our cruise.

I start out by changing from my jammies to my colorful mumu so I don’t embarrass the server who delivers our in-cabin breakfast. Some days we go down to the dining room for more choices and to visit with our fellow travelers, but having breakfast in the room is very relaxing and takes less time. 

After the meal, I’m ready for some exercise, so it’s time to switch into my jogging pants and tunic and head for the gym. There is a long bank of elipticals and weight machines, but I try to snag a treadmill that looks out over the bow of the ship. The rolling blue deeps stretch on forever as I pound out my daily mile.

And I do mean deep. The ocean bottoms out at over 14000 ft right now!   

After a shower, I put on one of my “resort casual” outfits—capris, a comfy top, sandals and sun visor. This blue & gray number is appropriate for lunching in the main dining room, going to an art auction, or learning to dance the hula!

Yes, that's right. I'm learning a few steps of the hula and let me tell you, it is much more difficult than it looks. My hands go one way while my feet go another and all the while my hips have to look like they have someplace to go too. 

Sometime in the afternoon,  I’ll don my swim suit and cover up so the DH and I can go to the Thermal Suite. There’s a huge hot tub filled with mineral water and submerged lounges. Then after we prune up in there for a while, we move to the heated stone beds for a nap.

I know it sounds really weird to think about sleeping on stone, but trust me, it’s heaven!

Then finally, like the Regency lady who obeys the dressing gong, we get all spiffed up for supper too. Not every night is a formal night on board. In fact, Holland America calls them “Gala Nights” now so no one feels obligated to rent a tux. I’ll be wearing this long purple gown with a diaphanous throw over it. The necklace is handmade of Hawaiian kukui nuts. The DH is sporting a lavender shirt (coordinated with my outfit so it looks like I’ve marked my territory!) and suit pants with matching vest. No jacket. He’s on vacation!

So that’s a peek into my fashion day on board the Westerdam. I’ve never changed clothes so often in my life, but with the diverse activities available, it sort of makes sense. Now I just have to hope I’ve packed enough different outfits (mixing & matching, of course!) to get me through the next 27 days!  

Arrived Alive in San Diego

After a leisurely breakfast in Yuma, we headed west on I-8, an interstate that skirts the Mexican border. Here the desert turns serious, mounding up with sand dunes and very little vegetation anywhere.

But there is a system of aqueducts to bring water through the desert from the distant mountains and deliver it to the thirsty cities on the west coast.

The route sank downward until we were actually below sea level. I know this is nothing unusual for my friends in the Netherlands, but for a Midwestern girl, it's not something that happens every day.

At least not without a wet suit.

Then we saw a sign which advised us to turn off our air conditioning so our vehicle wouldn't overheat.

They weren't kidding.

The highway started a steep climb into the Vallecinto Mountains. We went from about -53 to over 4100 ft in elevation in no time flat. The mountains are weirdly beautiful, with huge smooth boulders strewn everywhere.

I sort of expected "Gorignak" to pop out from one of the piles of smooth rocks. (For those of you who don't get that Galaxy Quest reference, go rent the movie and spend a hilarious time with someone you love!)

My DH did a wonderful job driving into the heavy traffic in San Diego. We checked into our hotel down on the waterfront and parked our van in the long term lot. Then we decided to stretch our legs and walk down to Anthony's for supper. I had a light salad with avocados, shrimp, & crab meat. There's nothing like fresh seafood when you're looking out over a lovely bay.

And today, we'll embark on the Holland America Westerdam around lunch time to start our voyage. My DH and I plan to pinch each other once we feel the deck swaying beneath our feet.

Oh! This last bit of info about our trip is for my Dad who likes to keep track of this sort of thing. The highest price we paid for gas was in Ocotillo, CA on I-8. $3.89 a gallon for regular. I know. Yikes, right?

Tales from the Road...

We had an uneventful first day on the road on Wednesday. Unless, of course, you count hydroplaning through driving rain and dodging a tornado warning through Tulsa. We managed to slip by before a tornado ripped the roof off a gun club, thank heaven. Amarillo, Texas was our stopping place for the night. 653 miles traveled.

We felt every one of them.

Amarillo Sunrise

Then after a restful night, we headed into New Mexico at about 6:30 in the morning, hoping to make it to Phoenix for a 700 mile day. Since Amarillo's elevation is about 3600 ft, the dawn greeted us with a brisk 28 degrees. (If you want to know more about why the elevation matters to me, check out my Second Wind blog!)

I'd sort of forgotten that the Southwest is high desert, which means cold at night, hot by day. (Note to self: Pack a light jacket next time!)

My DH

I haven't traveled along the western I-40 corridor since I was a kid. Back then it was with my family--my parents, 2 of my sisters (my baby sister wasn't with us yet) and my grandparents--all piled into a station wagon pulling a camper. My dad always said we had 4-60 air conditioning, which meant we rolled down all the windows and went 60 miles an hour.

Our van is much more comfortable and I have the best chauffeur in the world!

New Mexico is much more picturesque than I remembered. Rocks break through the surface of the earth like an ancient dragon spine. Check out this unique formation.

Is it just me, or don't those reddish stones sort of look like a giant armadillo?

And how about this roadside sphinx?

I'd love to know how these things were formed, wouldn't you? (Take that Sheldon Cooper. Geology is too a real science!)

The road was climbing most of the day, heading toward Flagstaff, Arizona, which tops out at over 7000 ft.

I'm not sure when we first became aware of Mt. Humphrey (over 12000 ft.) looming ahead of us, because at first the snow-capped peak blended in with the gathering clouds, but we could see it for miles. When we finally reached Flagstaff, it was towering above us.

I was totally surprised by the number of trees in Arizona. Guess I always thought of it as a desert state. Then we dropped down out of the high country as we headed toward Phoenix. The landscape changed for a brief time to what I like to call Sound of Music mountains, with green meadows ringed by peaks. But that didn't last long as we dropped in elevation and entered the Sonoran Desert.

As deserts go, it's a lively one. Lots of vegetation compared to say, the Sahara. Saguaro cacti seem plentiful, but they are a protected native plant. Destroying one can result in a hefty fine. Stealing one from public land is a Class 4 felony!

At around 4 pm, we breathed a sigh of relief as we came into Phoenix, even though the city was bustling with more traffic than we'd seen since we moved from Boston two years ago. Unlike our first night, we didn't have a hotel reservation, since we weren't sure we'd make it all the way to Phoenix, even though we gained two hours and were now on Pacific Time.

So we started stopping at likely hotels.

No vacancy. We left I-17 and turned our faces west to LA on I-10. Still no rooms at the inns.

As it turned out, there was a trifecta of an air show, the last day of spring training for baseball and a Nascar event in town. We couldn't rent a pup tent in Phoenix.

Yuma was 160 miles away. So we filled the gas tank, got a couple bottles of water a piece and headed south into the desert, looking for someplace to stay. Granted, the seats in the van do recline, but I so didn't want to try them out.

The sun was setting as we pulled into that little place in the southwest corner of the state. Fortunately, the first hotel we tried had ONE ROOM LEFT!

(Note to self: Always have a reservation, no matter whether you think you'll make it there or not!)