When in Rome - (Lunedi -- il terzo giorno)

A beautiful, clear, blue-sky Monday morning on the Via di San Martino ai Monti! 

The Hotel Tirreno (in the distance)

After breakfast, I pull out the tourist book and decide how to spend my Monday morning.  I've got the afternoon planned at the Vatican, but my morning is free.  I decide on the Spanish Steps and the Fountain of Trevi, so I hop in a cab and head out.  

Okay, fine, I get to the Spanish Steps, get out of the cab, and take a look.  I see steps... I see tourists... I think Spanish... and that's all very nice!  But I get back in the cab and go on to Trevi.  

Maybe the "Three Coins in a Fountain" place will grab me differently.  I know once it gets in my head, that song grabs me (almost as much as does "It's a Small World" at Disneyland).  As I hum along with Dinah Shore -- "  ...which one will the fountain bless...which one..."  , we seem to be driving forever.  This Fontana di Trevi is pretty well off the beaten path; not in some big public square.  We twist and turn our way down some fairly small streets eventually finding it tucked into a clearing where a bunch of little streets come together.  

Fontana di Trevi

And it's jam-packed with tourists (like me!).  " ...make it mine...make it mine..."    I find it's difficult to back up far enough to take a full photograph.   But alas, there's the little Church of Saints Vincenzo and Anastasio nearby whose steps afford a vantage point for some photos -- and a place to sit, out of the sun for a bit.  After taking a quick look around the pretty church and viewing the fountain from every angle (all while paying tribute repeatedly to Jule Steyn, Sammy Cahn, and Frank Sinatra), I'm off on foot down one of the small streets, heading out of 1954 Hollywood and back into the present-day wonder of this Eternal City.

I find a cab and make a fairly long trip across Rome to Vatican City.  I'm greeted with the sight of several long lines -- ticket-holders, non-ticket-holders, those with reservations, those without reservations, etc.   Since I've got my ticket, I'll wait 'til closer to my scheduled 1 p.m. admission time to get into a line.  I find a place right across the street for lunch.  The cheese plate is perfect and the obligatory after-lunch-gelato comes with a memorable scolding from the Gelato Lady.  You see, I pointed to what I wanted and spoke the word "limon."  Shamefully, it seems the gelato to which I pointed was not "limon" but was "crema."  Thank you dear Gelato Lady, I've learned my lesson:  I shall not ever forget what "crema" looks like.  Actually everyone within earshot around me will probably never forget what "crema" looks like!

Time to go across the street and be within the walls of the smallest country in the world -- the Vatican.

The Vatican Museum

With all the people standing in lines outside, I'm amazed how speedy the entry to the museum is.  I just walk up to the door since everyone else with 1 p.m. tickets is already inside and I am left to start my wandering in these endless rooms unimpeded.  

Before I embark on my artwalk, I visit the gift shop, looking for something small yet meaningful for Laura and a gift for Dana and Tom who are having me to their home for dinner this evening.  While in the shop, Emma pops up in front of me and says hello.  She, Debbie, and Charlie were about to begin their guided tour of the museum.  It's the last time I will see them as tomorrow they leave for home and I go on to Vienna and Frankfurt.

I start out with paintings -- lots of paintings...of Madonnas, of the Deposition, of various saints.  My mind is a blur after an hour or so.  And I later learn my flash shows up in each and every photo of a painting.

Madonna and Bambino c. 1500 by Mariano di Austerio da Perugia

I then come upon the fantastic Faberge eggs and other Russian miniature things.  The egg below, with tiny family portraits and important events, was presented by Emperor Nicholas II to his wife Empress Alexandra in St. Petersburg on their 15th Wedding Anniversary in 1911.

The Anniversary Egg

I now enter many rooms of sculptures -- gods, saints, popes, Jesus, noblemen...

  Then we have a couple of rooms of animal sculptures.

Outside in this courtyard there is the beginning of a spring shower.  I'm following signs for the Sistine Chapel so I enter the long low building pictured below where I find this very long, very busy ceiling.  Here, thankfully, there are open windows along the way.  The thick humid air here is unlike what we have in northern California and I need air.

Then, after many left hand turns, right hand turns, up many stairs and down many other stairs, I reach the Sistine Chapel...along with, it seems, 5000 others.  Down some final steps I join this HUGE crowd, all standing shoulder to shoulder, and all looking upward. 

The ceiling of the Sistine Chapel

It's dark and hot and humid in there.  I notice that the recently restored colors are quite bold and the ceiling is jam-packed with scenes, and that surprises me.  But I'm about to freak out.  I manage to snap just 3 pictures and then make a beeline towards the opposite end of the space and begin to look for exits.  I'm close to having my first-ever anxiety attack.  My mind is racing, conjuring up all the danger inherent in being in this small overcrowded, unventilated space with no easily identifiable exits.  After I do find a small exit, I follow the path to get out.  It twists and turns, up and down really narrow passageways for several minutes, until I'm finally deposited at the door to the outside.  People are huddled around the door, blocking egress because it is raining very heavily now.  I squeeze my way past everyone, get out, buy an umbrella from a street vendor, and look for a cab.  Since I'm just not in the mood for more walking, either in the rainy gardens or in St. Peter's, I get a cab and go back to the hotel.  St. Peter's will have to be seen on another trip to Rome.  Right now it's time for this aging tourist to rest some hips a bit before heading down to Dana and Tom's for dinner, the account of which will appear in the next chapter of this blog.

When in Rome -- (Domenica -- il secondo giorno)

Sunday morning in Rome.  After an early breakfast at the hotel, I change rooms.  The new room is more spacious but minus the interesting view.  The room is comfortable, that's all that matters on this busman's holiday.

I'm dressed and ready to start the day.  First activity on this Sunday morning is church.  Not just any church, but an Anglican Church.  Right ... I'm in Rome, and I go to a Church of England service on Sunday morning? 

Well, my friend Dana who, with her husband and 2 sons, left New York for Rome 2 years ago in the financial shakeup, is the guest preacher this morning at All Saints Church on Via del Babuino.  I get myself a cab and am there in minutes.  It's a beautiful church, classic and yet relaxed. 

The Sanctuary of All Saints Church

I let Dana know I'm here and she introduces me to several ex-pats who worship there.  I then take a seat behind her husband and 2 sons and their friends as the service starts.   Dana's sermon is about Chekhov's Uncle Vanya and the differing personalities in Vanya's life and how in our lives we encounter a similar cast of varied characters...and how we can make changes and comfortably do things we never thought we could do.  Made me think of my life journey; how well (or not well) I've assimilated past life changes along the way and how open I might be to changes down the road.

After church, I head towards Piazza del Popolo and sit outside at a cafe and have a cappuccino (it's before noon!) and a light lunch, topped off with gelato.  I'm directly across from the twin churches of Santa Maria Miracoli and Santa Maria Montesanto, which were commissioned by Pope Alexander VII in 1658.  In the center of the Piazza is the Egyptian Obelisk that in 1589, Pope Sixtus V had moved from the Circus Maximus to the center of this square. The obelisk was originally built in 1300 BC and was taken from the Sun Temple in Heliopolis in 10 BC by the Roman Emperor Augustus and erected at the Circus Maximus to commemorate the conquest of Egypt.  

Today the piazza is being readied for some kind of rock concert so it's jumping with activity and swarming with interesting people.  I wonder how Chekhov might have developed the character of some of these people and what words he would have given them!  It's the perfect place to hang out and people-watch. 

The twin Churches and the Egyptian Obelisk

.

I have tickets for entry to the Galerie Borghese at 3 pm, so I head over to the Villa Borghese Gardens and do some more Sunday afternoon people-watching.

The Villa Borghese

(I see an impressionist painting lurking here)

I spend several hours in the Gardens and in the Gallery, viewing the treasures of the 16th - 18th centuries including Bernini's "David" and "Apollo and Daphne," Raphael's "The Deposition" (secretly removed from the Baglioni Chapel in Perugia in 1608). Also, the painting, "Sacred and Profane Love" by Titian, Caravaggio's "David with the Head of Goliath," and "The Deposition" by Peter Rubens.

The original sculptures and paintings in the Borghese Gallery date back to Cardinal Scipione's collection, the son of Ortensia Borghese - Paul V's sister - and of Francesco Caffarelli.  Subsequent events over the next three centuries entailing both losses and acquisition have left their mark:  Cardinal Scipione was drawn to any works of ancient, Renaissance, and contemporary art, yet was so ambitious that he promoted the creation of new sculptures and especially marble groups to rival antique works.  In 1807, Camillo Borghese sold Napoleon hundreds and hundreds of statues, busts,  bas-reliefs,  columns, and various vases, which constitute the Borghese Collection in the Louvre.  But by the 1830s these gaps seem to have been filled by new finds from recent excavations and works recuperated from the cellars and various other Borghese residences.

Now, I'm tired and hungry, so I find a cab and, as it whizzes by all sorts of public squares, roundabouts, statues, fountains, and churches, I make my way back to the Esquiline Hill to find a neighborhood trattoria where I can order a plate of uncomplicated Spaghetti Bolognese.  I want to taste native spaghetti with meat sauce.  (I found out that I like our version better--except here the Parmesan is quite fantastic). 

After supper I do some shopping, have another gelato, and then head home to the hotel and relax with my netbook for the rest of the evening.

Tomorrow -- a fountain, gelato, the Vatican, and then Dana's for dinner!

When in Rome... (Sabato -- il primo giorno)

On Saturday, May 21st, Deb, Charlie, Emma, and I board the Rome-bound 10:10 a.m. high-speed Eurostar from Florence's Santa Maria Novella Rail Station to the Stazione di Roma Termini. 

Tom and Deb

From our comfy first class seats, for an hour and a half we watch the Italian countryside smoothly whiz by. 

Arriving in Rome just before noon, I split from the group and walk to my nearby hotel.  The Tirreno is a smallish hotel on a tiny street in the Monte Rione section of town, near the Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore.  I chose it for its location and because it had free wireless service (I'm addicted to my new little netbook).  Soon after getting in my room -- a single, booked online weeks earlier -- I decide I will probably die of claustrophobia.  The room is actually taller than it is wide.  To get to the window, I must walk sideways through a 3 ft wide section of the room already containing a desk and chair.  But from that window there is a view that captures the charm of the neighborhood.

Instead of unpacking, I head back downstairs to the desk and ask if I could possibly have a different room. The guy at the desk says, "No problem, not today, but as soon as someone checks out in the morning you can have a very nice double room at no extra charge."

With that settled I head out to the streets of Rome to wander around.  I gravitate to the aforementioned Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore which commands a presence on the top of the Esquiline Hill.. 

The Basilica of Santa Maria Maggiore

It's my first church in Rome, so of course I am amazed by what's inside.  Only later did I find out that it is considered the most beautiful church in Rome, after St. Peter's.  The building was renovated in the 18th century and still contains the "triumphal arch" of 5th century mosaics and other medieval artwork.  This gilded coffered ceiling overwhelmed as soon as I walked in the door.

After spending hours at the Basilica, I leave and continue my wandering in the neighborhood around the hotel where there is plenty of Roman atmosphere for a first-time roamer (groan) to soak up.

In the evening, following a short nap, I head out to meet the others for dinner at La Taverna dei Fori Imperiale, located deeper in the Monte Rione neighborhood.  Streets become passageways not fit for autos.  So a circuitous route is taken to get me as close as possible to my destination.

La Taverna dei Fori Imperiale

My friend Dana (who lives here in the Monti neighborhood) recommended the restaurant, calling it her family's favorite.  I had made reservations before leaving the States and, having mentioned Dana's name when doing so, we receive royal treatment from the owners.  Everyone there knows Dana, Tom, and their two boys, Sam and Michael.  The place soon fills up and (except for our undercooked shrimps) the evening turns out to be superb.  

After a very full day, beginning at our villa in Florence and ending at a pleasant trattoria on the charming Via Madonna dei Monti in Rome, it is time indeed to collapse in my tiny room at the Tirreno.  Claudia calls us cabs and they soon arrive, dodging pedestrians while driving in reverse up the narrow street to get us.  

The schedule for "domani" looks pretty full too.

Next Week - Off to Firenze and Other Fun Places

 
This will be our home away from home next week.  A villa just a few kilometers outside of Florence.  Debbie Meyers, her daughter Emma, and sister Charlie, 3 other guys (Scott, Rob, and Tom) and I have rented it! 

We'll have a chef who will give us cooking lessons, using goods from the local Tuscan markets, right there in our own kitchen.  

Side trips to Portofino, Lucca, Siena, and perhaps other food hotspots should round out our Tuscan food experience.  I'll report back on our culinary exploits before I go off to Rome on the 21st of May where I'm excited to be seeing the Vatican Gardens and old friend Dana English and her family.

A Week in New Mexico

A week ago Saturday, I traveled to New Mexico to meet up with Carleen who was finishing up a Habitat for Humanity project in Santa Fe. We spent the next week on the road. Looking back, it was, in addition to validating a lifelong friendship, a week full of great sightseeing and fabulous food. Our itinerary took us to Albuquerque, Santa Fe, Taos, Ghost Ranch, and back to Albuquerque.

The first couple of days were spent in Albuquerque. Our initial plans were to ride the tram up Sandia Peak -- the longest tram in the world. However, dressed for 5000 feet above sea level (and not for a colder 10,000 feet above sea level), kept us on the ground. The snow and frigid temps up above deterred our going up and we decided to return the next day more suitably dressed. So, we headed for a visit with Rosemary Bledsoe, a friend from San Francisco, who had recently moved to Albuquerque to be nearer to her daughter and family. We had a nice visit with R.B. and her beautiful granddaughter, Aeryn. She gave us some good leads of what to do in the area. Lunch that day was at The Frontier and was followed by a walk around the campus of UNM and its wonderful contemporary sculptures. This one that Carleen photographed raised many questions -- not least of which was -- were these actually 2 men?


Later that day we headed to Old Town and were treated to an enactment of a Wild West skit with drunk men and unhappy wives and loud guns loaded with blanks. And we headed for a restaurant suggested by my friend Duane Garrett and found it closed. Ended up picking another restaurant nearby, managing to get in before it too closed (at 6:30 pm!).

In the morning we ventured forth to Petroglyph National Monument http://www.nps.gov/petr/ where there are more than 20,000 images of people, animals, insects, and geometric designs created in the rock centuries ago. In 1986 the entire 17-mile escarpment was placed on the National Register of Historic Places and in 1990 it was designated a National Monument. To the American Indians the entire monument is a sacred landscape and stories are passed on from generation to generation. In addition to the rocks and the geology of the place, it was where we first began to notice the native plants of the area. The shades of green go from richly verdant to almost tan. This spectrum was omnipresent throughout our trip. All week long we were bombarded by colors of these plants and the freshness of the Spring greens in the new leafing on the aspens and cottonwoods...plus the stupifying cloud formations. Cameras do not do any of it justice, so we tried to commit to memory each hue and form for later replica-tion (in our artwork -- each of us likes to think (s)he is an artist! -- ahem!).

Leaving Petroglyph, we headed for the Turquoise Trail, a national scenic byway between Albuquerque and Santa Fe. http://www.turquoisetrail.org/ It proved to be a jaw-dropping incredulous 62 mile-long drive that wended its way through spectacular wide-open country. Each winding turn along the 2 lane road brought us to yet more stunning vistas. Small towns along the way seemed forgotten in time. That is... until we reached ...Madrid. http://www.turquoisetrail.org/stops/category/madrid/ We soon learned it's "Mad' rid" and found many local artists in their shops and galleries. One shop, http://www.colorlightarts.com/ was particularly wonderful with its artists' offerings and its equally wonderful proprietor named Suzie who hippily moved west from Albany NY in the 70's. Needless to say, we used some of our spending money there. We lunched at "The Hollar" where the outside world had already met up with Madrid. http://thehollarrestaurant.com/index.html We each had a salad with goat cheese and roasted peppers among the greens and veggies, al fresco. It was perfect!

In Santa Fe, our accomodations at the Villas de Santa Fe (on Griffin St. which is near to impossible to find) turned out to be small condos. (Priceline was good to us, folks!) We each had a living room and a kitchen in addition to a large bedroom. We each had two TV's too (I guess one was for video games!). That evening, we went off to find a local grocery to stock our refrigerators with yoghurts, salsas, juices, etc. Also that evening I began a serious bout with altitude "sickness." Lightheadedness to the point of falling over and what seemed like extra pressure on my chest kept me inside the next morning, while Carleen went out walking. But that afternoon I joined her and we spent time at the Georgia Okeeffe Museum on Johnson St. With short documentaries and docent-lead tours, Miss O'Keeffe's place in the art world came to life (as did I).

That evening we had dinner at the gorgeous Santa Fe home of Car's friend, Susie Chapin, and her partner Doug Smith. Small world that it is, it took no time to find out that Susie has a sister here in Healdsburg and that Doug and I both worked for Avon 3 floors apart at 9 W 57th St in NYC during the same years in the 1970's. Dinner was wonderful with a roasted chicken as the star. As a "high-altitude roasted chicken," it required a higher temp to cook and took twice as long as down here near sea level. So the lively evening went on a bit longer than usual.

The next morning, we enjoyed The Santa Fe Plaza, the Cathedral and Basilica of St. Francis of Assisi (patron saint of Santa Fe), and world famous Canyon Road full of art galleries. Do you know that Santa Fe is the third largest market for art in the US behind NYC and LA? One amazing artist we both liked is Nigel Conway, who exhibits at the gallery called gf contemporary, http://www.gfcontemporary.com/. Click on "artists" and then on "Nigel Conway." His lovely wife, Sabine - in her "thrift shop" Prada skirt, spent a goodly amount of time with us. (their home is in Mad'-rid on the Turquoise Trail). Nigel says his art comes from the stripping of masks and societal roles. Take a look, you might concur!

We then hopped in our car and started the drive to Taos. We took the "high road" so we could visit Santuario de Chimayo, the place everyone tells us to get the "holy dirt." It is located in a Spanish Colonial settlement established in 1740. http://chimayo.us/ Upon entering the town, we first visited the Chimayo Museum, a small 3 room adobe, with typical viga style roof and dirt floors, down a gravel path and across a snow-melt ice-cold rushing stream. http://www.chimayomuseum.org/ On exhibit were high school students' artwork -- from paintings and sculptures to jewelry, woven cloth and rugs. We voted for our favorites and then proceeded in our quest of the holy dirt.

We soon arrived at the Santuario, which is a very old church on a large tract of land alongside a river swollen with spring run-off from the nearby mountains. In small dark rooms off the sanctuary we found walls lined with forsaken crutches and walkers, and then we spied the holy dirt. There was a hole approximately a foot in diameter in the middle of the floor of a small room. It was filled with sandy dirt. I don't know if the dirt automatically multiplies occasionally to keep the hole filled or if someone brings some in periodically, but it was full at the moment I was there. As I filled a small plastic container with some, we broke with the solemnity of the place and wondered together what the result would be if we mixed the holy dirt with holy water! Dear Lord, forgive me, please!

Back on the high road we stopped at a small restaurant called Rancho de Chimayo for lunch. http://www.ranchodechimayo.com/restaurante/restaurante.htm A wonderful chicken fajita salad and another notch in our unbroken string of good eateries (don't you just love mixed metaphors?)!

Most of the week, there was so much sky visible from horizon to horizon that we could see several distinct weather systems all around us, yet miles away. Towards our arrival in Taos, we knew we were in for an afternoon thunderstorm. The rains came and were severe but they also left very quickly. We were soon able to poke around the Plaza de Taos and made reservations for dinner at Doc Martins at the venerable Taos Inn near the Plaza http://www.taosinn.com/restaurant.html.

I think Doc Martins might be the place to be when one is in Taos. In any case, not being in the know, nothing else in town looked appealing. This place, with a lively jazz band in one room, was jumping with life. And the menu was lively as well. Carleen ordered rattlesnake and rabbit sausage as a first course and my main dish was wild boar spare ribs. After waiting a long while to be served, we heard a loud crash and saw our ready-to-serve dishes fall off a service table. After sweeping up the broken china mixed with bits of rattlesnake, rabbit, and wild boar, our poor waiter asked if we could be patient as the chef would have to start over. In the end, our meals were worth waiting for. I did decline, however, an offer "to taste" the sausage!

After a good night's sleep punctuated by another amazing hail and thunder storm with wind howling outside the rooms' windows, we enjoyed our complimentary full breakfast and then headed off to the Pueblo de Taos http://www.taospueblo.com/.

We arrived at the pueblo after a rainy night so the unpaved streets of the pueblo were almost ankle deep in mud -- a mud unlike any I've seen back east or in California. This mud's consistency is quite thick (and very slippery). It caked our shoes until the next day. It is, indeed, a perfect building material.

Upon first entering the pueblo we came across the ruins of an ancient church and a cemetery still in use. With just simple wooden crosses, it had a striking beauty.

We walked around the pueblo for a few hours. No running water, no electricity, and all cooking is done in wood fire ovens. While some of the buildings are fairly new, others are over 1000 years old. Most receive an annual repair coat of new adobe. Many of them have ladders leading to the roofs. I found out that in olden days there were no doors to the buildings. To gain entry one climbed the ladder to a roof where there was an opening for entry and for sunlight. This served as protection as well. They just pulled up the ladders and foes were held at bay. The Red Willow River runs through the center of the pueblo and provides all the water for the residents. In addition to the flat land where the structures are located, the pueblo lands include many square miles of land up the sides of the nearby mountains.












Slipping, sliding, and squishing our way back to our car, we took off our adobified shoes (which could have kept each of us at the bottom of the East River for weeks) and started our journey west to Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch http://www.ghostranch.org/.

Ghost Ranch was given to the Presbyterian Church in the 1955 by the Pack family. For the 19 years I worked at Old First Church, pastoral staff and congregants would flock to Ghost Ranch each summer for a couple of weeks of rest, relaxation, and stimulating educational courses. I never seemed to get there. So, If there was one place I wanted to be on this trip to New Mexico, it was Ghost Ranch – if only to see what all the fuss was about!

The drive from Taos to Abiquiu was spectacular. Several times as we rounded a bend, we had a “Holy Cow” or “OMIGOD” moment and had to pull over to be part of what was in front of us. The geology of the region and the colors of the hills and cliffs were awe inspiring.

As we got closer to the Ranch, the level of spectacular-ness increased. By the time we arrived at the Ranch it seemed we had just been through a live travelogue.


We checked in at the office, got directions to our cabin, and got our meal tickets for dinner. We had a small cabin with 2 bedrooms and a living room. Adobe with the Southwestern architectural highlights, including viga ceilings. Quietness prevailed – except for a few minutes of sudden hail. Our 24 hours there were not filled with Southwestern Sunshine. Clouds and showers were the name of the game.

Carleen found (yet another) labyrinth and a hiking trail that afternoon, and off she went to add to her miles of steps she was giving to a charity. (She did at least 5 miles each day that week (some going in circles) to accumulate more than the 100 miles pledged for the month of April!).

I was able to hook up with a docent-led tour of the private acres and acres of the vistas made famous by Georgia O’Keeffe in her paintings.













http://www.ghostranch.org/museums--activities/georgia-okeeffe--tours.html
Miss O’Keeffe in 1940 talked Arthur Pack into selling her his own residence, called Rancho de los Burros, and 7 acres surrounding the house, and he built himself another home on the Ranch. After her husband, Alfred Steiglitz, died in 1946 she left the east coast and moved to her houses in Abiquiu and Ghost Ranch full-time.

We spent about an hour and a half stopping at various places around the Ranch where she painted a particular picture. We were able to drive down some private Ranch roads to see her home (now owned by a Foundation set up to preserve her legacy). http://www.nps.gov/history/nr/feature/wom/1999/o

Dinner was early (i.e. 5 pm early!). We managed not to show up until 5:45 pm and then enjoyed our cafeteria-style excellent tacos. After dinner, we spent some time in the 24/7 Ranch Library, catching up with a week’s supply of newspapers. Carleen did some more walking and I turned in early.

After a very peaceful cozy night’s sleep at the Ranch's Cedar Cabin we finished our breakfast, did some catching up with emails on the computers, and departed. We were heading back to Albuquerque where we had tickets to The Gathering of Nations. But not before we stopped at Bode’s, the general store in Abiquiu. (Abiquiu constists of this store and the Post Office, I think). http://bodes.com/. Take a look!

We got to Albuquerque early and were able to check in at The Hampton Inn. Of all the Priceline lodgings we were at this week, this was by far the most plush and one of the least expensive. Wonderful beds with many down pillows and duvet, soft thick towels, and refrigerator and microwave in each room. And a “Business Center” open to guests with internet and fax service, free copier, paper, desk supplies, etc.

The Gathering of Nations is the getting-together of more than 100 Native American tribes for their annual pow-wow. This year it was held outdoors at the stadium of the University of New Mexico. http://www.gatheringofnations.com/.

On Friday we were able to attend the contests held for the various nations to present their dances. The dancers were judged and prizes were awarded. We were overwhelmed by the beauty of the native outfits – hundreds of them. I’ve never seen so many feathers and beads and so much doeskin. Most of the outfits made noise as well – like the rustle of beads or the jangle of bells. It was truly festive – and organized as well.

This is a photo of the young girls' dance of the shawls.  But who would have thought that sitting in a stadium in April in New Mexico that we would be freezing our tushes off. Well we were, so we left the stadium after a couple of hours and headed into town for dinner.

We had stopped for drinks earlier in the week at a very nice place (also recommended by Duane) called Seasons.  See website.  We weren’t hungry that first night so we didn’t eat there, but were impressed by the menu. So we headed back there this night. What a providential decision! Carleen ordered artichoke raviolis and the best margarita she says has ever had. I ordered pan-seared sea scallops with bulgar & wild rice and chanterelles. The scallops literally melted in my mouth. The meal was the best meal of the week for each of us.

I’ll remember Albuquerque as the place where my last activities as a visitor were dining on perfect sea scallops and sleeping with clouds of down pillows.  Soon it was 6:00 am on Saturday and we had to get to the airport for our trips home – Carleen to Connecticut and I to California. What a fabulous week!

Thanks Car for the great number of your photographs I swiped for this blog!