Up early to make the train. Easier said than done as we were all unsure which time zone we were in. The adventure started with a Wild West shoot out; the only time a man will publically admit to firing blanks. Then a serenade from the 3 Pardners. Each resplendent with guitar and their own individual musical key. Then to our transport; not a steam train but diesel. Never mind, we had allotted seats so didn’t have to fight to get on. Coaches were from 1923 – medieval American – and had those seats where the backs can be switched from one side to the other. So you can either sit behind someone or facing them. Really handy for those times when the team is in dispute with each other.
It took 2 hours to reach the rim. We played ‘eye spy’ and after g for grass, s for sage bush and p for pine, we ran out of alternatives. That’s not exactly true, I am prone to exaggeration. At one stage, we saw several telegraph poles.
The approach to the rim is as was expected. A massive car park fringed the view, then came the streams of humanity in all shapes, colours and sizes. Some carried handbag dogs, many talked in other languages and all were on the same mission. We squeezed our impatient bodies onto one of the free shuttles; desperate to see that which we had dreamed about for many months. But nothing could prepare you for the awe of the canyon when, at last, you had your own viewing slot. Words can not describe the sight so I won’t try. For me, it was the scale, as it is with much of my amazement with the States. The magnificent Colorado River appeared stream-like in the far distance. Then it was the layering of one tonal colour upon the next and finally, the ever changing shapes hewn out by nature.
At one stage, we could see the mule train tourists hair-pinning their way to the bottom of the canyon, appearing like a line of fleas on the landscape. We had naively tried to book a trip two days earlier but there had been several problem, I was too heavy, Jules and Nic were too apprehensive and each of the two trips per day in July had been sold out for 15 months.
Later on, we joined the thrill seekers, off the paths, to stand at the end of an overlook to seek a better view – not realizing that the views would not change with such a little change of perspective and that our path to search for individuality had been trodden by millions before us.
By now, out amble, along tarmaced paths, had taken us back to the start. Just time for a good meal, a quick shop for postcards and mementos and a dash to the train. We mad it by two minutes and had we missed it, we would have had the choice of a $200 taxi ride or sleeping ‘au sauvage’. The return was enlivened by some ballading from a third of the aforementioned trio and a ‘hold up’. Bandits boarded the train and demanded money. There were three of them and they came through the carriage one at a time. Not really a clever move because by the time that the second or even the third strolled in waving his weapon, we had no money left. Still, they never claimed to be clever cowboys. The arrival was accompanied by some tunes from a Confederate band and, all in all, the visit was well packaged.
The final note of the day belongs to the even more amazing discovery. In a town of only 3000 people, deep in the middle if Safeway, there was, not only a Starbucks but also a video renting machine. To say that we were Happy Bunnies would be a gross understatement.
It took 2 hours to reach the rim. We played ‘eye spy’ and after g for grass, s for sage bush and p for pine, we ran out of alternatives. That’s not exactly true, I am prone to exaggeration. At one stage, we saw several telegraph poles.
The approach to the rim is as was expected. A massive car park fringed the view, then came the streams of humanity in all shapes, colours and sizes. Some carried handbag dogs, many talked in other languages and all were on the same mission. We squeezed our impatient bodies onto one of the free shuttles; desperate to see that which we had dreamed about for many months. But nothing could prepare you for the awe of the canyon when, at last, you had your own viewing slot. Words can not describe the sight so I won’t try. For me, it was the scale, as it is with much of my amazement with the States. The magnificent Colorado River appeared stream-like in the far distance. Then it was the layering of one tonal colour upon the next and finally, the ever changing shapes hewn out by nature.
At one stage, we could see the mule train tourists hair-pinning their way to the bottom of the canyon, appearing like a line of fleas on the landscape. We had naively tried to book a trip two days earlier but there had been several problem, I was too heavy, Jules and Nic were too apprehensive and each of the two trips per day in July had been sold out for 15 months.
Later on, we joined the thrill seekers, off the paths, to stand at the end of an overlook to seek a better view – not realizing that the views would not change with such a little change of perspective and that our path to search for individuality had been trodden by millions before us.
By now, out amble, along tarmaced paths, had taken us back to the start. Just time for a good meal, a quick shop for postcards and mementos and a dash to the train. We mad it by two minutes and had we missed it, we would have had the choice of a $200 taxi ride or sleeping ‘au sauvage’. The return was enlivened by some ballading from a third of the aforementioned trio and a ‘hold up’. Bandits boarded the train and demanded money. There were three of them and they came through the carriage one at a time. Not really a clever move because by the time that the second or even the third strolled in waving his weapon, we had no money left. Still, they never claimed to be clever cowboys. The arrival was accompanied by some tunes from a Confederate band and, all in all, the visit was well packaged.
The final note of the day belongs to the even more amazing discovery. In a town of only 3000 people, deep in the middle if Safeway, there was, not only a Starbucks but also a video renting machine. To say that we were Happy Bunnies would be a gross understatement.
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