I’m supposed to be feeling the balancing of my chakras, the channeling of four vortexes of energy through my solar plexus.
Instead, I’m feeling burnt coffee on my tongue, hot sun on my neck and the snarl of RV’s backed up along Route 89-A through Sedona.
The stunning natural beauty of Sedona cannot be denied. Driving from Flagstaff, you careen down through pine-carpeted Oak Creek Canyon before the road opens up to towering red rock formations which seem to glow with solar energy.
Unfortunately, Sedona itself glows with strip malls, white hair and ill-fitting jeans. Nowhere else on earth could a town do so well as to be washed away in a cleansing, diluvial spray.
The presence of health spas and Hyatts mystifies me. How could you pay hundreds to be so close, yet so far, from inner healing and peace?
Nearby Jerome, which clings to a precipitous slope overlooking the valley, like a Tuscan’s wet dream, is far more pacific, despite the huge scar that a copper mine has left in its backyard. Here, you truly soar with the eagles, who look at you munching on your Caesar salad with more than a little envy as they hover at 6000 feet searching for mice. More lightweight tourists have been known to be the subject of raptorial feasts.
The waitress in Jerome says she has always wanted to live in Australia. The fact that every American seems to say this to me makes me wonder what they say to tourists from Angola. I’ve always wanted to fly over Angola? Angola would make a nice stopover point? Where the hell is Angola anyway?
Most Australians don’t want to live in America. Many are, unfortunately, somewhat prejudiced against the US, for reasons I will never fully comprehend. The worst prejudice is the kind that has never even set foot inside the borders so lovingly patrolled by Immigration and Customs Enforcement (affectionately known as ICE).
For those that have, perhaps they’ve only been to the Sedonas, the over-hyped yada yada yada which gets sold to every man and his RV. Where they really should be is the Jeromes, dining with the eagles, covering their eyes to stop them getting pecked.
Which authentic town have you been to down the road from an overhyped one?