dom.blog

Like Florida, I had Pennsylvania down in my mind as a state left in an untidy state. I had visited the city of Philadelphia before, back when I looked like this…

At the Liberty Bell!

…but another trip was required, so I could make it ‘official’ and take lower-quality pictures of grown-up me with the same underwhelming Liberty Bell like this…

Back at the Liberty Bell!

At the Magic Gardens

…so that is exactly what we did. Together with Mike, Randi’s friend from New York, we enjoyed a whirlwind but quite glorious weekend in Philly. I’d forgotten how much I liked the East Coast! Since we were only there for one night we stayed in a ‘proper’ B&B (the kind with cooked breakfast and free wine in the evenings) as an extra treat, right in the historical centre, which put everything within easy walking distance. We saw the quirky Magic Gardens, took an excellent walking tour, hung out by the harbour, ate lunch at Reading Market, visited Independence Hall (“we don’t really know what the actual layout was, and this isn’t the original furniture, since the British burnt it all”) and were treated to lunch by my something-something-somewhat-removed cousins Roger and Lily Ann. Oh, and before leaving I made sure to eat a proper Philly cheesesteak too. All in the sunshine!

There is a lot of history here, but ‘Franklin walked down this alley’ is pushing it

Our walking tour guide outside (surprisingly cheap) historic homes

Ice cream: easy to obtain, harder to eat

Lunch with Roger and Lily Ann

I turned up too late for my constitutional input to be recognised

The most unexpected experience, however, came in the last few hours of afternoon wine at the B&B. In the living room, a cheerful couple from Georgia introduced themselves, explained that Southerners will always start up conversations with strangers, and told us that they were on a trip to celebrate their 40th wedding anniversary. Things got a little weird when they started to enthuse unironically about the ‘life-sized’ Noah’s ark in Kentucky, and it soon became clear that we were sitting opposite two bona fide creationists.

“Were you brought up in the church…?” asked the man. You have to understand that he had the sweetest, kindest face you can imagine, sounded a little like Bill Clinton, and we were all having a warm and friendly conversation. So we certainly didn’t want to start fighting with them. Randi parried the church question with her Jewish upbringing (which earned warm smiles and much praise for Israel) while I tried to use “I’m English!” as a euphemism for ‘godless heathen’.

I really wanted to gently introduce the a-word at some point, just so they could go home and tell their own stories about meeting out-and-out atheists at a B&B, but sadly I never quite worked up the courage for fear of derailing the vibe. Instead, when Randi and Mike left to catch their bus to New York, the couple asked permission to say a prayer over them for their safe journey. Later, once Randi and Mike had gone, the three of us tiptoed around the topic of healthcare together, and I saw again how the “some people are cheating the system” feeling can be so overpowering of all other rational consideration.

To be clear, I’m not trying to mock them. They were obviously wonderful people, and while I’m sure we were not that far away from reaching more uncomfortable topics, they actually said nothing ‘offensive’ on the Great Culture War issues you can easily think up. But I did feel sad, because creationism always makes me sad, and despite being sat on a sofa opposite them we might as well have been on different planets. No possible way to get through. As a human being, it’s a terrible thing to not know what you are, what you’re made of, and were you came from. (That’s why the moment Buzz Lightyear discovers he’s a toy is so devastating!) And yes, I know they feel exactly the same way in reverse.

At the Kingston Mines with Rhi

Earlier in the week, back in the secular bubble I inhabit, I had a birthday to celebrate! Randi prepared a carefully curated list of restaurants to eat at, and naturally I picked our nearest Indian place because (a) I’m unimaginative, and (b) Cumin is really and truly delicious. For a few days we also hosted Tash’s friend Rhi on the Chicago stop of her around-the-US trip (by train, obviously). We wanted to make sure Chicago made a good impression, so lined up a blues night at Kingston Mines plus Like It, Love It, You’ve Gotta Have It at Improv Shakespeare. (It was a particularly good production, as two dairy farmers sought revenge on the King for murdering their cows.) Rhi is the kind of sophisticated, thoughtful traveller who has already written her own blog post on the visit so you can judge for yourselves how successful we were on Chicago’s behalf.

I had high hopes for New Mexico, officially the 25th state on my travels around the US, and it did not disappoint. The state boasts a distinctive look, great food and for my money the best state flag… so what’s not to like?

Welcome to New Mexico!

In Santa Fe, the buildings really are all this colour

We ate a lot of food like this

We flew in and out of Albuquerque but spent the majority of time in Santa Fe, which is smaller, more touristy and quite lovely to walk around. Thanks to the Spanish, the city is built around a central plaza and (gasp!) is not just a mindless grid of roads, although – in a sign that the tourism thing might have gone a bit far – approximately 95% of the shops are art galleries. We went on an eccentric walking tour with a guide whose train of thought was a little indirect, but he was very personable and took us to the ‘miraculous staircase’ at the Lotto Chapel. (Basically, the idea is that St. Joseph – yes, that Joseph, of Mary & Joseph – returned to Earth in order to finish off some building work in the 1870s.) And as a bonus, the walk back to our AirBnb was dark enough that we could see a fair number of stars at night.

The central plaza in Santa Fe

Note all of the chiles

Poking my head into a Pueblo home

The best part of our trip was our morning at the Bandelier National Monument, combining some light hiking with a bit of ladder climbing to look at Pueblo homes – between 400 and 900 years old! – carved into the side of the canyon.

Afterwards we drove to Los Alamos, home of the Manhattan Project to build the world’s first nuclear bomb, and visited the World’s Worst Museum about the whole thing. OK, maybe not the very worst, but the introductory video is mind-bogglingly badly pitched. One would have thought it would be possible to celebrate the scientific advancement of nuclear technology, acknowledge the obvious horror and devastation of its use on Japan, and then give different points of view on whether it was, on balance, a necessary evil.

Instead, I’m not even sure it would be obvious to a child that anyone does die when a nuclear bomb is dropped – there’s just a quick cut to US civilians dancing in the streets. To add insult to injury, the narrator bizarrely declares that “all” of the native people cleared off the land to make way for the Manhattan Project were “happy and willing to do so for the war effort”, as if they conducted a survey. I cannot comprehend why you would even bother lying about this. You’re not going to get a 100% approval rating for bringing in cake to work, so why say something so transparently unbelievable? Get a grip, Los Alamos.

At the Bandelier National Monument

Inside the Alcove House after many ladders

The t-shirt was a risk, but it paid off

We returned to Albuquerque from Santa Fe the same way we had came: by train.  That’s right, an actual train slap bang in the middle of the sixth-least densely populated state, with $9 tickets you can buy on your phone, on a railway which has only been operating since 2006. If it can be done here, no one else has any excuse. By our final day we were pretty exhausted, so took a leisurely walk around the Old Town, sat and listened to a fetching rendition of The Winner Takes It All on some wind instruments (no sarcasm, it was pretty good) and sat in a diner watching a muted, subtitled episode of General Hospital. (We were perplexed by this show in so many ways, but most noteworthy is that zero scenes actually took place in or around a hospital of any sort.)

Albuquerque Old Town

The world’s creepiest petrol station

Halfway there! 😉