We ate our free breakfast at our hotel with the lovely lobby and the bare-bones bedding. One of the things we looked for as we traveled was a hotel with a free breakfast. We managed quite often to find hot breakfasts, do-it-yourself belgian waffles, fresh fruit; we had a lot of nice breakfasts. The place in Amarillo this morning actually cooked your eggs to order, not a bad deal for $39 a night, if you don't mind skimpy towels and cheap sheets. We didn't always sleep cheap, but we didn't know what we were getting into that night.
Today's events occured on July 25, 2007, my daughter Melissa's birthday. I called her and all the WOW girls sang to her, but I didn't realize that since she was on vacation in Arizona, it was 7:00 in the morning there. I forgot Arizona didn't recognize daylight savings time. Oh, well, sorry, honey. We had all seen pictures of Cadillac Ranch and looked forward to seeing this piece of Americana. We didn't realize how poorly it was marked; if Betty Joe hadn't spotted it, we would have missed it completely. As it was, we had to go past it, turn around and come back. If you're not familiar with Cadillac Ranch, google it for a complete story. It's pretty fascinating. To summarize briefly, there are several Cadillacs from different years buried nose first along Route 66 and I-40. It was one man's folk art message, but it has become America's folk art message. People spray the cars with personal messages, propaganda, whatever. I heard they were painted Hokie colors after the massacre on the Virginia Tech campus, and I believe someone spray paints them pink during breast cancer awareness month. We were told someone would be there to sell cans of spray paint, but no one was there. We wanted to spray "WOW Girls" on the cars and take our pictures. We took pictures anyway, and took to the highway. This was cowboy country, with all the buttes, mesas, and mountains that any Western movie maker could have desired.
We pressed on to Santa Fe, our next destination. This was Betty Jo's number one; her sister lives nearby. We arrived at our lovely bed and breakfast, The Territorial Inn, which was one of the nicest places we stayed in the entire country. We always found a hotel with two rooms so that we each had our own bed each night. Betty Jo and Kristee roomed together, and Jane and I roomed together. The Territorial Inn had separate bedrooms with a shared bath for Jane and me, and Kristee and Betty Jo each had separate bedrooms with a shared bath. Each bedroom was decorated differently, with beautiful colors and antique furniture. I highly recommend this hotel to anyone traveling to Santa Fe. I wish I had taken pictures of our rooms, but my camera did not do well with indoor shots, and I didn't know how to fix the problem.
We had lunch at the Tia Sophia Restaurant, and I had my first taste of something Jane had been raving about, Navajo fry bread. It really was quite good. Then we headed to the plaza where the native American craftspeople sell their wares. We all bought some jewelry, most of it silver and turquoise. Santa Fe is a beautiful place, and the colors of the sunsets and the desert make it a mecca for artists. Georgia O'Keefe discovered this years ago, and many others have followed. Tourists can see artists at work and buy their work at many of their studios both in town and along Canyon Alley (I believe this was the road's name.)
We took a trolley tour around Santa Fe, and had the displeasure of having one of the most arrogant tour guides of our entire trip. He was obnoxious and rude and accused us of being rude when one of our group didn't understand what he had said and asked one of the others to repeat it. We saw no other tours getting ready to leave, so we stuck it out. We did learn that Santa Fe is the highest state capital, although Denver bills itself as the mile-high-city. Santa Fe looms over the country from an altitude of 7,000 feet plus.
We visited the Loretto Chapel, which has the famous spiral staircase with no means of support. It is the object of scientific study and Ripley's Believe It or Not television crews. Legend has it that a carpenter arrived, having heard that the nuns at this chapel needed access to the choir loft. The man built the magical staircase and disappeared without pay. Was the carpenter Jesus, the son of Joseph, the carpenter? There are many who believe.
Santa Fe was Betty Jo's meeting point with her sister Peggy, and we met for supper at the Coyote Cafe, an expensive, classy restaurant where the waiters size me up when I enter as one of those who would rather eat at Golden Corral and then behave rather patronizingly all evening. Betty Jo's grand-niece had the most appetizing meal on the table, the kiddie mac 'n cheese.
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