To Vegas and Home – completing the circle

Our last Airbnb


Sunday 9th – Tuesday 11th. Monument Valley has been a highlight that brings our road trip nearly to its end. As we leave our Navajo host and take scenic route 98 to Page, we have a sense that today we are completing the circle. After crossing the dam on Lake Powell and being reminded of our boat trip, we continue to Kanab and a picnic in the park under the cliffs that surround the town. I even buy a Hank Williams c.d to play us into Hurricane and our last Airbnb.We pass through Fredonia where we stayed with the memorable ‘Cowgirl Ronnie’, and then through the Cane Beds and infamous Colorado City where the Mormon population has had some scandal recently.


Our Airbnb is a suite in a rare Victorian detached house. The owner deals in antiques and she is restoring the house to its former glory. We are delighted to stay in such a comfortable place for our last night of bnb. We decide to head back into Springdale and Zion Canyon for a meal. We can sit outside on the terrace as the sun sets on the red rocks of the Canyon. It is still 70 degrees as it gets dark.

Monday 10th – Back to Vegas. 


Breakfast is the full works this morning, taken at the little cafe next to the house. I can honestly say I’ve never seen Marilyn eat so much for breakfast before. Fortified, we decide to make the best of our last drive by taking the scenic byway along the North Rim of Lake Meade rather than the faster Interstate. 
There is a spectacular drop of 3000 feet through an eleven mile section of Interstate before we turn off along the track that brings Lake Meade into view on our left. 

Satnav tells us we are in the lake


We picnic at Stewart Point and the Satnav tells us that we are actually in the lake because the water has fallen a full 50 metres since the data was entered. The temperature is hitting the nineties with a dry desert heat so we make what shade we can to enjoy our last picnic.
As we pass through Redstone Parks the temperature rises towards a hundred and I am glad we are not doing this drive in July or August when it rarely falls below a hundred.

And then we are in Vegas and checking into the Luxor which is basically a city in a pyramid. We need to walk through the enormous Casino to get to the check in. Thousands of people are pouring their dollars into noisy machines. I hope to see one of those moments when someone wins a jackpot and millions of dollars spew over the floor but alas I am disappointed. 
I won’t waste more words on Vegas. It is not what we came to the States to see and we are only here now because our flight from Phoenix was cancelled. We return the car, Marilyn eats her first burger of the trip and we get some sleep in preparation for the long flights home via Toronto and the ensuing inevitable jet lag.
Tuesday 11th. Home.

Flying over the Canyons

Lake Meade

The only incident of note on the flight happens as we go to get our Newquay flight at Gatwick. We have passed through security in Vegas and Toronto with no difficulties but Marilyn is put in the naughty line at Gatwick and has to wait until her tray of possessions is eventually gone through by a security lady. Apparently Marilyn has used the wrong type of plastic bag to put her toiletries into and they want to insist that she uses one of theirs. Eventually they concede that the bag is fine and that Marilyn has no evil intentions to down the Newquay flight and after a twenty minute delay she is allowed off the naughty step.
It is always lovely to get home after a time away and, although we have had the most amazing time, it is refreshing to see the green fields and the trees that have not been part of the landscapes we have explored. The sea too lifts the spirit after a long flight as the plans circles out over the North Coast before making its descent over the cliffs into Newquay airport.

We are met at Newquay by the lovely ‘ Auntie Colleen ‘ who is returning our little dog that she has so caringly looked after. Elsie pup goes berserk with excitement when she sees us, pogoing and peeing in equal measure while brandishing a welcome home balloon that tangles round her feet and neck.

And so home. A cup of tea, fire lit, electric blanket airing the bed.
There’s nothing like home.


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