Flagstaff, northern Arizona.

Base camp for visiting the Grand Canyon and maybe to take some rest after the flight Amsterdam - Phoenix. For me it was coming home because the Grand Canyon International Hostel was the place to be I needed two years ago, after cycling from Durango CO to the Grand Canyon. Relaxed small town with all facilities (motels, petrol stations and WalMart) but much more.

This time we took the 'south entrance' to the Canyon,after reaching Vlaggemast(Dutch) from Sedona via the wonderful Oak Creek Canyon. Our rental car was possibly more fit to do so now, mounting 3000 feet within 15 miles, than my bicyle and me two years ago from the opposite side. Sedona appeared still to be nice and a bit Slowdona but the gorgeous red rocks were still older and magic as ever on the pictures and in my memory.
I was a bit worried because Edwin was silent for many periods but actually it was because of the breath taking views.

Good choice weatherwise to visit Grand Canyon Saturday (thank you advisors of the hostel). Sunday morning it was time for a change and without Obama's involvement, earth had changed into a white romantic area where everybody was polite and relaxed and helpful. Shovels to remove the snow, trains slowly passing by with thousands of tons of goods, kindly saying hallo by many blasts of the siren, people having a cup of coffee or donut in Macey's, a meetingpoint for students and tourists.
Where are you coming from? Of course, why not? Almost as polite as the Americans we told about our roots. And most people in this setting knew Europe, more details than ever.
In the meantime the nice upgrade (by the snow) of our white rental car went lost by the severe sunshineand some papers under the wiper appeared. Commercials again?
No, an invitation by the City of Flagstaff administration to come to the Town Hall within 15 days.
A queer thing that they ask 20 dollars admission for it, is the American way of life that commercialised???

We'll ask tomorrow. And the hostel staff advised to park the car elsewhere...

Today we'll visit the Epiphany Church a.o. to see and hear Eric singing. I happened to meet him two years ago. Last night we had dinner together at a Mexican resto, La Casa Bonita (bit a Dutch name for a reputated phenomenon). Enchillada and Macho Burrito for us. We 'deserved' it after (or in) a jetlag and after cooking in the hostel ourselves.

Next week we'll head for Albuquerque, visiting my cousins. They like to meet Edwin and we were promised to get a first class guided tour through the Indian Pueblo Cultural Center, one of this tour's highlights.
And Hank is growing peaches so we'll get the chance to taste (again).
On the way to ABQ we'll stick a bit to the Interstate 40 because of the unpredictable weather more northern. Unfortunately we'll have to skip Monument Valley. But we certainly not skip Acoma Pueblo (Sky City) and the Petrified Forest.; even snowy should it be magical.