Our travels took us to Monument Valley—a truly beautiful and desolate corner of the planet. The way to see the Valley is by vehicle, your own or on an open tour bus. We opted to go on our own. There is one road—a 17 mile loop of unpaved, rutted road. We had to stop repeatedly because of blowing dust and then stopped repeatedly by choice to enjoy the views. At many of the scenic views, Navaho craftspeople had stands selling jewelry. At one such stop, we struck up a conversation with a British couple, Richard and Hyacinth. The scene was beautiful—wind swept, remote, not a blade of grass or animal to be seen. Just rock and dust and sky. We all looked at the jewelry and bought a few things and then Richard asked the very nice lady who made the jewelry, who lived on the reservation without electricity or running water, “I say, do you have a card?” Maybe you had to be there but it was pretty hilarious.

Life has indeed been hectic but full of more fun than anyone has a right to have. The cross country journey with the Glamorous One, Violet and Aquaboy is now but a memory. It would be impossible to say what was my favorite part of the trip. One observation I was able to make at Bryce Canyon was about national vacationing styles. Without exception that I noted, the Germans and Swedes all purposely unpacked their cars, strapped on backpacks, child carriers and bikeracks [just kidding] and cheerfully trudged down every marked trail. The French, dressed to the nines, would stroll to a particularly scenic vista, sit down and spend a few hours smoking and chatting. The Italians stayed in the hotel coffee shop or at the pool, drinking espresso and looking at postcards of the Canyon and the Americans stayed in the snack bar.