The Phoenix UFO blog I posted yesterday, was a point of interest for all you Sci-fi fans. Today my blog is about the Phoenix my kids live in. I found poky mountains, fine funky restaurants and fantastic family, and just like home in Connecticut, yellow dust, all in one week.
Phoenix has always been hot, hot, hot in the summer, that’s a given, but the air you breathe was pretty clean and had none or little pollen and most important, no humidity, whew. Allergy and arthritis sufferers moved to Phoenix for relief. Gone are those days. Phoenix is overpopulated. With overpopulation came trees and grasses, and well, you know . . . yellow dust, AKA pollen.
Still, you can’t miss the beauty and mystery of this place. No other like it. In spite of the yellow atmosphere, the skies at dusk are gorgeous. Mountains, poky and black, hiding buried treasures in there somewhere, so different from the green mountains in the Northeast.
The bridges that cross the highways have fences repeating the shapes of those poky mountains. Highways have sound barrier walls, tall, carved and some hand-painted with animals.
Entrance ramps have traffic lights permitting one car at a time. I couldn’t stand that with my background growing up in Brooklyn, but no one there knows about the New York minute. Maybe they did, but as residents, you do slow down far, far, outside of the big Apple. Stop laughing, I’m not kidding.
My daughter-in-law, Andrea, took me to an authentic Mexican restaurant, Barrios Cafe. Tiny, filled with diners. The food was 5-star, from cocktails to dessert. Best Mexican food I ever had. They were gracious—the service outstanding. It seems like there are Mexican restaurants on every corner. Andrea said about several we passed, “That place has good Mexican food, but it’s Americanized.” All the restaurants we visited were excellent, but Barrio Cafe was the best.
Our accommodations were the best. Marriott Canyon Villas, way to go. Always close to perfect. Even though we were there for family, Marriott is the easiest for us. The JW Marriott, down the road apiece, has the ‘River pool’ a river all want to play in, I’m no exception. Sitting in a big tube and floating down the river . . . not too shabby.
Coming home was the toughest part of the trip. Ever take the red-eye? Ugh. You feel fine when boarding, exhaustion when debarking. Can hardly catch a wink. The red eye boards at 10:30 p.m. With the three-hour time difference, we landed at 6 a.m. I have heard that it’s the change from the dark to the light, not the other way, that causes the mess-up. It took three days to realize, yes, I am alive.
When we were there temperatures ranged up to 105 degrees. We carried water everywhere we went and drank lots. The highest recorded temp–Phoenix mark of 122°, set on June 26, 1990. Do you know how hot that is?