Parte tres
So yeah, I really should have updated the last night in Austin, because now I have forgotten details and I really don't feel like typing eeeverything out anyway. My readers are probably better off for that anyway.
We woke up early our second day in Austin, more because our internal clocks are off than anything. I can't remember now, but I think Austin is on Mountain, not Central time, so it was like getting up two hours later. Anyway, Victoria, Kimble and I left Kimble's and stopped by the corner ghetto mart to grab a few beers. From there we went to Town Lake and canoed for about two hours, stopping to have a beer under the pedestrian bridge, and making it from the launch point to the bridge we'd gone to the night earlier to see the bats. The bats, we found, actually live in the cracks under the bridge so while we could hear them, we couldn't see them during the day. Victoria rowed most of the way back on her own (her choice), with me acting as rudder, and actually kept us moving forward against the current.
We left from there and ate dinner at Magnolia Cafe. Then walked down the street from there looking in local shops that were, by then, closing. We found a few open and browsed them before stopping at Amy's Ice Creams, which is like a local Cold Stone Creamery. Exhausted by before 10:00 pm, we headed back to Kimble's afterwards.
Throughout our stay at Austin, I really enjoyed the town. Its focus on local arts and off-beatness, but at the same time there was a nagging sort of pretentiousness I couldn't quite put my finger on until Victoria and I talked about it. We realized it was not just that every place we went (even the ice cream shop) showcased local art, but that every place we went wanted to be "authentic" or "true" or "the real" Austin, and that was the reason they showcased the art. Hell, there was even a fitness center called "True Austin." Despite that, though, it is awesome enough to understand why these places would want to be "true" to the city.
We left there and drove about 15 hours to Phoenix where we stayed at a La Quinta. La Quinta's slogan ("La Quinta is Spanish for: [something it's not Spanish for, like 'Free continental breakfast']") is a bit funnier when in the Southwest, and you very regularly see Spanish speaking people. I mean, it'd be like Holiday Inn saying "Holiday Inn is English for 'Nice showerhead'". Anyway, La Quinta has always done Victoria and I right, so we overlook their dumb.
From there we drove up I-17, a gorgeous drive through mountains to Flagstaff and on up to the Grand Canyon. We saw the Desert View which was just awesome, and drove the rest of the way down 64, stopping at the deli in the park for a quick lunch. We tried to camp at Kaibab Lake, just north of I-40 near Williams, AZ but it was full. We tried another one and it was just creepy. We got a campground map from Kaibab Lake's host, however, and found out that Dogtown Reservoir was really close, so we drove the 8 miles there (4 of them on gravel) to a campsite that was really just perfect. At that elevation, we weren't aware it would drop to the 30s overnight, but it did... I'm not a fan of camping, but it went really well.
We got up early that morning, having found that sunrise is before 6 am out West and drove to the Denny's in Williams, which is actually on Historic Route 66 (but what isn't out here?). The best Denny's I've ever been to. It had a full bar inside, but what was even stranger was that the waitress actually came back after giving us our check and asked if we wanted beyond our first refill of coffee. We drove down 40 West to 15 S through the Mojave Desert. Pretty at times, but really not much worth seeing. We took I-10 50 miles through Los Angeles (which is like Jeffersonville to Seymour, IN being entirely developed) to Santa Monica to stay where we are now, with Victoria's third cousins, Bert and his wife Barbara.
These two are just wonderful people. They couldn't have done more for us, though they tried. We had the best beef stew I'd ever had last night, french toast with locally grown strawberries and blueberries, and tonight we had barbecue chicken with homemade barbecue sauce, chicken sausage, a pasta salad with salmon, and birthday cake for dessert. We walked the boardwalk at Venice Beach and stuck our feet in the Pacific. On the boardwalk, I saw a psychic reading the newspaper and figured, ironic as it was, he was probably just getting his bearings, seeing what future had already happened. That's what I would have said if I was a psychic caught reading the newspaper anyway. We walked the length of the Promenade, which was really kind of a letdown, since two years ago the police started cracking down on "spanging" or panhandling and for that reason it didn't seem at all like the place Claire described. It's really just an outdoor mall, with a lot of street performers. We left there and went to the Pier and played putt-putt. I beat Victoria 30-32, myself being 8 over par, her 10.
Tomorrow we leave for San Fransisco! It's bedtime now.
We woke up early our second day in Austin, more because our internal clocks are off than anything. I can't remember now, but I think Austin is on Mountain, not Central time, so it was like getting up two hours later. Anyway, Victoria, Kimble and I left Kimble's and stopped by the corner ghetto mart to grab a few beers. From there we went to Town Lake and canoed for about two hours, stopping to have a beer under the pedestrian bridge, and making it from the launch point to the bridge we'd gone to the night earlier to see the bats. The bats, we found, actually live in the cracks under the bridge so while we could hear them, we couldn't see them during the day. Victoria rowed most of the way back on her own (her choice), with me acting as rudder, and actually kept us moving forward against the current.
We left from there and ate dinner at Magnolia Cafe. Then walked down the street from there looking in local shops that were, by then, closing. We found a few open and browsed them before stopping at Amy's Ice Creams, which is like a local Cold Stone Creamery. Exhausted by before 10:00 pm, we headed back to Kimble's afterwards.
Throughout our stay at Austin, I really enjoyed the town. Its focus on local arts and off-beatness, but at the same time there was a nagging sort of pretentiousness I couldn't quite put my finger on until Victoria and I talked about it. We realized it was not just that every place we went (even the ice cream shop) showcased local art, but that every place we went wanted to be "authentic" or "true" or "the real" Austin, and that was the reason they showcased the art. Hell, there was even a fitness center called "True Austin." Despite that, though, it is awesome enough to understand why these places would want to be "true" to the city.
We left there and drove about 15 hours to Phoenix where we stayed at a La Quinta. La Quinta's slogan ("La Quinta is Spanish for: [something it's not Spanish for, like 'Free continental breakfast']") is a bit funnier when in the Southwest, and you very regularly see Spanish speaking people. I mean, it'd be like Holiday Inn saying "Holiday Inn is English for 'Nice showerhead'". Anyway, La Quinta has always done Victoria and I right, so we overlook their dumb.
From there we drove up I-17, a gorgeous drive through mountains to Flagstaff and on up to the Grand Canyon. We saw the Desert View which was just awesome, and drove the rest of the way down 64, stopping at the deli in the park for a quick lunch. We tried to camp at Kaibab Lake, just north of I-40 near Williams, AZ but it was full. We tried another one and it was just creepy. We got a campground map from Kaibab Lake's host, however, and found out that Dogtown Reservoir was really close, so we drove the 8 miles there (4 of them on gravel) to a campsite that was really just perfect. At that elevation, we weren't aware it would drop to the 30s overnight, but it did... I'm not a fan of camping, but it went really well.
We got up early that morning, having found that sunrise is before 6 am out West and drove to the Denny's in Williams, which is actually on Historic Route 66 (but what isn't out here?). The best Denny's I've ever been to. It had a full bar inside, but what was even stranger was that the waitress actually came back after giving us our check and asked if we wanted beyond our first refill of coffee. We drove down 40 West to 15 S through the Mojave Desert. Pretty at times, but really not much worth seeing. We took I-10 50 miles through Los Angeles (which is like Jeffersonville to Seymour, IN being entirely developed) to Santa Monica to stay where we are now, with Victoria's third cousins, Bert and his wife Barbara.
These two are just wonderful people. They couldn't have done more for us, though they tried. We had the best beef stew I'd ever had last night, french toast with locally grown strawberries and blueberries, and tonight we had barbecue chicken with homemade barbecue sauce, chicken sausage, a pasta salad with salmon, and birthday cake for dessert. We walked the boardwalk at Venice Beach and stuck our feet in the Pacific. On the boardwalk, I saw a psychic reading the newspaper and figured, ironic as it was, he was probably just getting his bearings, seeing what future had already happened. That's what I would have said if I was a psychic caught reading the newspaper anyway. We walked the length of the Promenade, which was really kind of a letdown, since two years ago the police started cracking down on "spanging" or panhandling and for that reason it didn't seem at all like the place Claire described. It's really just an outdoor mall, with a lot of street performers. We left there and went to the Pier and played putt-putt. I beat Victoria 30-32, myself being 8 over par, her 10.
Tomorrow we leave for San Fransisco! It's bedtime now.