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HELEN'S JOURNAL |
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| Date: 28th April
| Time:Early evening | Place:Best Western Hotel | |||
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It feels so different driving back the other way and I sort of felt it would. Driving towards the Pacific Ocean had a kind of reckless feel to it, like running down hill fast and finally flinging yourself into the warm grass at the bottom. Driving east has a more intense feel, hieghtened by the fact that all day today we drove through the desert. Whenever I envisioned the trip, being in the desert was something that particularly thrilled me. Part of my love of America is the great expanses of land and sky that can leave you breathless. Growing up in Kent the outdoors was about soft hills, country lanes and rolling green fields. Negotiating a style was about the most trepidatious obstacle one may find en route. The heat in the desert was overwhelming and a hot wind blew all day. I thought about those early pioneers in their creaking wagons, crossing the desert and being confronted by a range of mountains ahead, then another, then another. I could not imagine surviving such a journey and, looking out at the endless shimering heat, I could fully understand why some just gave up and wandered out into the desert to their fate. For most of the day we were alone on the road as it took us through the desert. Leslie has just pulled me away from this for a moment to look at the sunset. After beating down on us unmercilessly all day, the sun has set in a huge red spill across the sky. It is beautiful. It is a wonderful feeling to return to Arizona, and to now recognise mountains and the small towns. Didn't however spot Vito on the return journey-I suppose his was just a one way sighting. |
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