The Land of Enchantment!

New Mexico Post card.jpegCamel Rock.jpeg

Sunday Belinda and I flew off to Albuquerque, meeting Barbara at the airport…then with Belinda behind the wheel of our rental, we went to Old Town for lunch then more girlee adventures in Santa Fe. We rented an adobe, two-bedroom, townhouse about three blocks from the Plaza. It was cute, Southwestern-Asian, and clean! What more could one ask?

We found Whole Foods and Trader Joe’s so we could supply our campsite (aka the townhouse). Babs, bless her heart, enjoys cooking breakfast so we bought the grub necessary plus some prosecco, wine, coffee, butter, eggs, ginger candy chewies, Vietnamese sesame seed crepes, Nutella, green chilies, etc. All these items I consider standard camp grub.


In need of dinner nutrients, we ate at Maria’s where we enjoyed chili rellenos and only one of the 100 REAL, award-winning Margaritas. I had the frozen version with a subsequent brain freeze—and I drank it slowly.  

By this time I started noticing the unpleasant but familiar stabbing in my intestines…the wicked diverticulitis….or was it the jeans I thought were fitting me, but were in fact working as a waist tourniquet!? I took truckloads of Advil and Emergen-C. OK, no gastro-intestinal details.

Next day—verrrrrrry busy: We had a great, Barbara-prepared breakfast. I limited my sesame seed and green chilies intake. After breakfast, a tradition, I hope, was established. Belinda responded to my call for hair braiding. She did it and did it again and did it again. She even seemed to like it. This is good. It is all part of my new ethnic look and think I might look a little like Pocahontas. DSC06536.JPG

Then a quick road trip to Chimayo where we visited El Santuario de Chimayo, sometimes called Lourdes of America. It was very interesting–all kinds of crutches and braces and religious accoutrements. I found a very nice selection of saint cards too. I just couldn’t pass up St. Liberata (invoked against unwanted suitors and burdensome husbands), St. Joseph of Cupertino (patron of flying), nor St. Bibiana (invoked against hangovers)! It is often said that Chimayo has ‘Holy Dirt’ and you are encouraged to take some–and I did–already nestled onto my den altar…



Suitors And Husbands flying hangover

On the way back to Santa Fe, we fell into what appeared to be a speed trap (4 units waiting and a man holding what looked like a homemade radar gun) by a tribal police force. Seemingly, we were exceeding the posted speed. Hmmm, can’t say for sure. At any rate, the officer, asked for the usual documentation while writing Belinda up….and only at the very end, he voided the ticket with a flair and introduced himself as the Chief of Police. We were gracious and humble and grateful and drove slowly off of the reservation.

At 2:00, we were at the Santa Fe Cooking School where Babs had set us up to do a Restaurant Crawl….or Food Crawl. We went to four different, well-known, local restaurants to meet the chefs. Once there, each offered us a full portion of one of their specialties, paired with a divine beverage! Hmm, hmm, good. The  menu, so to speak, follows: Mini, gourmet, pulled-duck sloppy joes, Halibut Cevache in a corn tortilla shell cup, gazpacho, ruby trout fillet stuffed with lemon and basil (baked in a mud shell) with risotto, and finally an apricot upside down cake made with corn meal. Each stop had a tasty beverage. Divine experience.

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Quickly back to our camp for a siesta. By then my diverticulitis was rockin’. We dressed and attended the Santa Fe Opera’s last performance of the season, The Magic Flute. The setting was exquisite. A lot of lightening in the background and a major cool front blew in. We had done our homework and brought lots of layers to keep warm. I was having huge diverticular discomfort. Home and to bed with a handful of Advil.

Our final full-day was devoted to the Georgia O’Keeffe Museum and shopping after a leisurely breakfast and hair braiding. It was very pleasant and satisfying!. Lots of Loretta Young/Southwest skirts, and cowgirl outfits. The procurement of costumes served as a sign that I was on the road to recovery. O'Keefe brochure.jpeg

I’ve gone in to more detail than I meant…it was fun, fun, fun and a grand, grand outing even with a knot in my guts. It is hard to bring a travelin’ band of amigas down.


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