Three day weekend

Today marks the end of the first three day weekend of the school year.  Cas and I are sitting at the Albuquerque airport, waiting for the people who currently occupy the airplane we can see out the window to get off the plane so it can be cleaned and re-seated.  

It’s time to go back to work- time to go back to our lives and time for me to go be fifty for a year.  

We started the day at a hotel, made our way to a great university-adjacent restaurant called Frontier and each ordered a massive burrito.  Our trolley tour guide from Saturday recommended that restaurant in the strongest of terms, but warned that there is often a line to get in.  We saw a line as we were leaving, in fact, but we were there pretty early, so there was not much time between entering the restaurant and the massive burrito.  

We had so few delays in our day that we had a little time to kill, so we went to a local coffee shop.  The coffee shop and the restaurant were both actually on a pretty famous thoroughfare, so this morning, we got our kicks on Route 66.  Heck, when in Albuquerque, right?  

But it’s nearly time to fasten my seatbelt and put my tray table and seat in the correct position.  Back to work, folks.  See you on here next time we head out of town.  For now, here is one more link to our photo album.

Up, up and away!

Think about your morning routine, then think about what would have to happen for you and another person to be awake, clean and dressed in time to get out the door of a hotel room by 5:45 am.  Now, prepare to be impressed- we hit the mark, but we hit it early by about ten minutes.  

Rainbow Ryders is the name of the company Cas selected for my birthday balloon ride, and they expected us to arrive before six.  It all makes sense, too, because we were there to see the sun rise from the basket of a hot air balloon.   

We got there, and we were assigned a pilot.  They have color-coded tickets, based on who is flying you around Albuquerque.  We had green tickets, so that meant that we’d be spending the morning with Alfred.  

Spoiler alert: Alfred is clearly the best pilot.  He has been doing this for over two decades, and he knows exactly how to maneuver a balloon to travel exactly where he wants to go and land precisely where he wants it to land.  The dude had us floating just above treetops when he wanted us to be low, but he had us way up high when that was called for.  He’s very good  And he was our pilot on the best and most unique birthday balloon I have ever had anything to do with.  

We met about a block from our hotel, checked in, signed a waiver and hopped into a van.  They took us to a shopping mall parking lot, which is one of their alternative locations when the Balloon Fiesta Park is closed- more on that later.  Cas commented that the balloon launch was the most positive experience he’d ever had at a  mall.  Me, too, honestly.  Man, we’re both bad at shopping.  

We floated above the world.  At times, it was perfectly silent except for a dog barking in some distant neighborhood.  At other moments, we heard nothing but the rush of the giant column of flame that kept us aloft.  It was very, very cool.  

We floated around, rising and falling for about an hour, until we were ready to land in Mariposa Park.  I love the word Mariposa.  It’s Spanish for Butterfly.  Mariposa is such a prettier way to say it than Butterfly.  

Regardless, we landed smoothly at Mariposa park, and in proper hot-air-balloon tradition, we had champagne to celebrate a successful flight.  The Rainbow Ryders staff brought a cooler with all the stuff to make mimosas, and Cas was on board with a mimosa when we got off board from the balloon to have a toast.  

This was, far and away, the coolest, most unique and very best birthday present I have ever received.  Second best, of course, was the red bicycle when I was five.  I mean, it had a white woven basket, and Dad painted it red himself.  But seriously, did it fly?  

After the balloon trip across the skies of Albuquerque, we managed to make it back to the hotel in time for the last bites of breakfast.  We did all of this majestic floating before nine.  We made a plate of food each, walked back to the room and ate a few bites before our pre-afternoon-nap.  And a necessary nap it was- it was about an hour and a half from our heads hitting the pillows to the moment when we were back up and spreading on sunscreen.  

Stop number two today was the Albuquerque Harvest Wine Festival.  That was held at a place called Balloon Fiesta Park.  Obviously, that’s why we couldn’t launch a balloon from there. Okay, I get it.  

The festival was nice, of course, but we made the tactical error of walking there.  In my estimation, there are two kinds of walks you can take.  One is a leisure walk, and the other is a transportation walk  Our journey was a 25 minute walk that, aspirationally, we had wanted to be a leisure walk.  It was such a transportation walk.  All  business.  No scenery, no joy.  Are we there yet?  

About a third of the way in, we discussed the option of taking an Uber back to the hotel.  We arrived back in our hotel in a red Tesla driven by a nice man named Joel.  

Now, it’s time to relax.  We had a box in the hotel room fridge from last night’s dinner and some wine for which my identification was checked just yesterday.  We are in for the night.  Good thing, too.  We can’t pack too much more into this weekend.  It’s time to wind down and head back home tomorrow.  Apparently, we are just starting the school year.  Who can remember these things?  But until then, enjoy this image of us, being silly this morning: 

While we’re talking about it, here, finally, is our photo album!

Enjoy!  

Ten thousand three hundred foot birthday dinner

There’s a restaurant on Sandia Peak called Ten three.  It’s 10,300 feet above sea level.  This year, I have had a more acute awareness of the number of feet I am above sea level.  The folks who usher you up and down the mountain tell you to be aware of the altitude and drink lots of water.  Altitude?  I could tell Cas was thinking the same thing as I was.  Altitude?  That’s cute.  Let me tell you about Cusco.  

We would never actually say that, but it was rolling around in our brains as we waited in line to board the tramway up the mountain.  And boy, did we ever wait.  You see, there was a little, teeny tiny bit of lightning and thunder at the peak of the mountain, and the tramway shuts down when that happens.  After about the first hour and a half of literally waiting for the storm to pass, we started looking for a different way to have my birthday dinner.  The entry tickets are all time stamped, of course, and we were growing in hunger and frustration as we watched our time tick by.  We’d narrowed our restaurant choices and were just about to summon an Uber to take us away when the service to the top reopened.  Hallelujah!  

It took some time to board and some more time to get there, but when we got to the top, there was a visible rainbow.  Talk about a sign from the heavens that we were right to be patient.  Still, an hour and a half after we had planned to be there meant we were plenty hungry when we were seated for dinner.  As we approached the restaurant and waited just a few more moments for the table, we saw the sun set from the mountain.  Okay, that was pretty great.  Maybe the timing worked out perfectly after all.  

Today, we’re awake before dawn.  It is quite unlike Cas to do that voluntarily, but this one is special.  We have a sunrise balloon flight.  We watched the sun set from a mountain last night.  We can watch it rise from a hot air balloon today.  We honestly still haven’t put together our photo album yet, though.  Maybe that would have been a smart thing to do while we waited for the tramway to reopen, but it didn’t occur to either of us.  We’ll get there, though.  We should have some pretty amazing photos after this morning wraps up.  Beyond that, there’s a wine and music festival to attend, then we wind it all down and have to return to our lives.  

Fun moment to mention before I sign off for my floating flight, though- the waiter last night asked if we were celebrating anything.  I said I was turning fifty.  He said, “Well, you look great; happy birthday!”  And I said, “Thank you; it’s dark in here.”  

See you when we’re back on the ground, friends!

(This was the view just before we came back down…)

Bugs Bunny’s left turn

I shoulda taken that left turn at Albuquerque.  

My first introduction In life to the idea that there was a place with the unusual moniker “Albuquerque” was in a Warner Brothers cartoon.  But with his distinctive bunny accent, Bugs rhymed it with the word turn.  That wascally wabbit!  

Today, we woke up at a hotel in Albuquerque, New Mexico, which is the hot air balloon capital of the world.  I am officially fifty years old as of this morning (at 6 am, according to my parents’ recollections), and to celebrate, we’re headed up, up and away tomorrow morning.  This morning, we did a trolley tour of the city, followed by enchiladas and chiles rellenos with a pair of margaritas.  Arther that, we decided to head back to the hotel to change clothes for our evening, which will see us head to the top of the nearby Sandia Peak.  As we learned this summer, altitude changes the weather a bit.  It may not be the right night for shorts and sandals.  

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up a few bottles of water and a little bit of wine for the hotel room.  And while it’s great that we had a nice morning- while it’s grand that we are headed out to float peacefully above it all tomorrow morning- while it’s wonderful to enjoy a new place and its cuisine culture and scenery- I got flippin’ carded.  On my fiftieth birthday, 29 years after I was old enough to buy alcohol, I was asked by a cashier for my ID.  On my birthday.  And I didn’t see Cas tell the girl at the register to do it, either.  He says he didn’t.  So it was legitimate.  I got honest-to-goodness carded on my fiftieth birthday.  

So happy birthday to me.  

We’re headed out in a little bit to take what they call a tram to the top of a mountain.  I would have gone with cable car or gondola, but the box-on-a-string is taking us up for some beautiful views this evening.  We’ll probably make a photo album after, but for now, here’s a pic of me and my guy, about to hop on a sightseeing trolley this morning.  Happy birthday to me!  

And just like that

We’re back in Dallas, back in the house and waiting for the first of many loads of laundry to finish up in the dryer.  We popped the new refrigerator magnets on the freezer door and put on some decidedly comfy clothes.  We’re looking at nearly three weeks of mail and determining that there wasn’t much of value or consequence delivered to the mailbox in July.  

Tomorrow is Monday, and life goes on.  The city returns to work.  I have to go back on Thursday, in fact.  Seems a little early to me, but school district calendars run through a million layers of public input and school board approval, so I suspect my complaints would get a little drowned out if I bothered.  

Cas and I arrived at DFW before lunch.  His mom and stepdad picked us up, and the bunch of us went out for a cheeseburger and a margarita.  Nothing says Welcome back to Texas like a big burger and a Tex-Mex cocktail.  

We’re hanging up the travel toothbrush for a while- but not that long, actually.  I’m going to go ahead and turn 50 in just over a month, and Cas has a three-day-weekend getaway in store for us.  I am, as ever, down to clown.  

In the meantime, we’ll live with the memories of the river, the mountains, the volcanoes, the ancient Incan cities, the unfamiliar creatures, the other-worldly scenery and the excessively fancy hotels.  

Cheers, everyone!

One last time, here’s the Photo Album.

Who called the cops?

It’s our last day in Ecuador, and as such, the last day of this vacation.  Cas and I just woke up from a nap- kind of a necessary thing, given the plans for the next several hours of our lives.  It’s creeping up on 6pm as I write, and at 8, we need our packed bags ready.  The tour company has arranged for an 8pm check out which is something I have never heard of before this trip.  Latest late checkout ever.  At 8:15, we meet the tour director in the lobby, and he takes us (along with the other four people flying into Houston) to the airport.  There, we check in, clear whatever hurdles we need to clear and hop on a flight at 12:40am to Houston.  There, we land at something like 6am, and there we stay until we hop back on a flight at 9:30, and we’re in our house before Sunday lunchtime.  Crazy, no?  It must be the best way to do it.  I have learned to not ask a lot of questions in Quito,  I just assume that everything is being done to keep us as safe as possible.  

Case in point: Our police escort was back in motorcycle-revving action today, escorting us around.  I’m sure they were there when we went to the Pichincha Volcano first thing this morning.  They were definitely standing around the local market we visited after that, and they rode alongside our walking group as we marched from a bus to an entry point for the botanical gardens.  The words don’t match the actions.  We’re reassured that we’re safe, then we have police ride along as we walk.  It’s hardly soothing.  

Regardless, we leave soon, and hopefully, return to the usual level of police presence in our daily lives.

The trip to the Pichincha Volcano was very cool, though.  We took a cable-driven gondola to the top of the thing, lifting us up to over 13,000 feet above sea level.  From there, we walked around- and up- to 13,140 feet.  There were a pair of playground- style swings way up there, and we gave it a little go.  Usually, Cas and I find playground swing sets and go a while before leaping off forward into a kid-style run.  This time, we decided not to run that kind of risk.  There was only so much space in front of the things before the descent would begin, whether you wanted to or not.  

Leaving there, we were pretty dirty.  Cas shot a little sunblock at the tops of our feet in our walking sandals, and I am pretty sure that sunscreen helped more dirt stick to our feet.  When we left there, I needed to clean my feet for sure.  We almost didn’t have time, but I ducked out really quickly to the hotel room and grabbed my travel pack of baby wipes while everyone refilled their water bottles.  I don’t think I could have continued the day the way I was.  

With newly clean (ish) feet, we went to a local market and saw how the folks on Quito bought vegatables and meats while hustling through a fast-paced food court.  It was weird- we were there around lunchtime, but we were advised not to eat anything for fear that some of the local food preparation may not agree with our stomachs.  You don’t really have to tell me that sort of thing twice, but it does seem cruel to take me past food vendors and folks selling fresh fruit when I can enjoy none of it.  We stood there, waiting to move to the next destination under the close watch of our personal police escorts, who, I assume, could eat whatever they wanted.

The botanical garden was nice, but we spent a pretty long time at the beginning of our visit talking about the temperate regions and political motivations for different environmental restrictions in Ecuador.  I would have loved to spend that 30 minutes looking at flowers, but different strokes for different folks, right?  Regardless, we did finally get moving and we saw some beautiful things.  

And that was all she wrote.  We got back to the hotel, waved at the cops and split from the group for a large, belated lunch.  Now, it’s packing time.  Oh, and it’s our anniversary.  We are not exactly proceeding with the usual level of anniversary romance.  We took a nap, grabbed a shower and are busy shoving dirty clothes into a pair of wheeled bags.  I feel like we should at least be doing that last bit by candle light.  Alas, no.  And tomorrow, when we’re home, I think all I will really want will be a cheeseburger, so maybe the big anniversary dinner can hold off until the next day.  

For now, though, we pack and prepare.  See you back in the US.  Of course, here, again is Our Photo Album.

Coming soon to your local grocery store

Today, we went to the actual equator.  Remember when I said we were at the equator?  Yeah, well, since the identification of that spot, apparently scientists got a bit more precise and there was a little tectonic shift- the actual middle of the earth was the spot where a giant sundial sits.  On the equinoxes at exactly noon, there is no shadow cast from the post of the sundial.  It’s very interesting to think of it- the sun is so directly overhead that any shadow would aim straight to the base of the object.  The diameter of the sundial’s center post is pretty large, too.  I mean, here we are, standing inside it:

It was kind of neat.  I have been taken aback this whole trip with how nice the temperatures have been.  We are at the very equator, and we’re in a nice, breezy environment.  The sun is shining and the air is a good temperature- it just lacks the regular level of oxygen we’ve come to expect in air.  

From that spot, we went to a rose plantation.  They grow lots and lots of roses in Ecuador.  They apparently can grow very straight stems, owing to the direct, overhead nature of the sunlight.  The rich, volcanic soil plays a pretty heavy role in the process, too.  The place we visited had a whole production floor where flowers were brought in on a zip line-style system, sorted, prepared and packaged for sale in other countries.  Because we’re all from the US, he showed us a crate of packaged dozens of roses headed for Costco stores on the US East coast.  They were right next to the ones heading to Whole Foods locations.  You can probably find Ecuadorian roses in your local grocery store, though I haven’t noticed a nation of origin being listed on any bouquets.  The man who took us around talked about how the production process ramps up leading up to Valentine’s Day, Mother’s Day and peak wedding season, which he can tell you is June.  I guess in that business, you pay attention. 

The rose plantation was interesting, and they served us lunch in a house on the property that was attached to the church that once belonged to Jesuit priests.  Apparently, the Spaniards got a little cranky with the amount of property and influence the Jesuits had, so at a certain point, the Jesuits were booted from the whole darn country, leaving lots of beautiful things behind.  

We have a farewell dinner with our group tonight.  They sure do feed us on this trip.  And tomorrow morning, we’re taking a gondolas up the side of a volcano to have a look around before heading to a local market and seeing the botanical gardens.  That’s it, too.  That will be all she wrote.  We head out at a very strange time- our flight leaves 40 minutes after midnight, so technically on Sunday, even though we’ll get to the airport late on Saturday.  I am sure there is some logic to this.  I am also sure I don’t know what that logic is, entirely.  Either way, we’ll be home Sunday afternoon and back to our own bed, our own shower and our own flat, less-than-scenic city before you know it.  

In the meantime, of course, have a look at Our Photo Album.