We drove into Albuquerque (5300ft, population 500,000) on the Interstate 40 through rugged hills sprinkled with snow. The hills around here average about 9000ft and the Sandia Mountains, at the northern edge of the city, reach over 10300ft. The mountains were, in fact, familiar to us from a previous flying visit in 1975, when we stopped at Albuquerque airport en route to Kansas. (That flight will forever remain in our memories, as a passenger’s pet lion cub was shown around the cabin - only in America!)
We arrived in Albuquerque in the late morning. After getting our bearings, we drove to the Pueblo Indian Cultural Centre, which was reasonably interesting, but a bit limited in its scope. However, the Cultural Centre restaurant was pleasant and produced some good lunchtime food. In the afternoon, we walked around the quite pleasing old town, based around the early 18th century Plaza, with its combination of Spanish and adobe architecture. There were not many tourists around and the area was very quiet and sleepy. Although the air was very cool, the sun was still quite warm. There were many references to the Spanish colonial history, including a dramatic group statue, commemorating the initial Spanish expedition to settle in the area.
In the late afternoon, we went up the Sandia Peak Aerial Tramway (cable car or téléphérique to Europeans), which was touted as the "longest aerial tramway in the world", at about 2.7 miles in length. We thought that the Chamonix Téléphérique de l'Aiguille du Midi would have been longer but we weren’t about to argue.
The sunset was beautiful and Albuquerque lit up prettily below. As the temperature dropped (only to -4 deg C, though it felt much colder), we retreated into the mountaintop bar for a drink, then took the gondola down in the dark. After checking into a cheap chain hotel just south of the old town, we rushed out to the Georgia O'Keefe gallery, which was open late that evening and free. O’Keefe was known mostly for her oversized flower paintings, in which some observers see erotic elements (apparently much to her dismay), but her own preference was to paint abstracts based on New Mexico landscapes, reflecting the changing light and extraordinary shapes of the land. It was an excellent and informative exhibition.
As we have often found elsewhere, nearby restaurants were closed by 8.00pm (what do Americans do after eating?), so we returned to the old town plaza to a New Mexican restaurant. Being aimed predominantly at tourists, the food was rather bland.
Friday 20th November
What is it about us and local maps? Poor maps & signs caused us a frustrating time trying to find the start of a walking and biking path adjacent to Rio Grande river. We then realised that the path doesn’t run alongside the river anyway. Instead, we dropped into a riverside nature reserve, established to preserve the 'bosque' (wetland) area which is disappearing because of water management elsewhere. In fact, the river was fairly nondescript and unimpressive when we finally got to the bank to see it - moderately wide but quite shallow, with sandbanks.
We were expecting the nature reserve to be at least partly green,but there was a completely different palette of colours - light brown dry leaves of cottonwood trees, soft orangey through to cream tones in the dry plumes of the tamarisk, the soft greys of the dry branches and the pinkish cream of the sandy New Mexican soil.
There was little in the way of fauna immediately evident, apart from some American robins, which are unlike their British counterparts in nearly all respects, apart from their reddish breasts and their fearless attitude towards humans. However, at the excellent visitors’ centre at the entrance to the reserve, there was an imaginatively designed and camouflaged hide¸ looking out onto a small lake on which various waterbirds and a couple of turtles sunned themselves. There were also numerous small birds gathered around a feeder. As on most days recently, we also saw (and heard) large flocks of geese migrating south.
We returned to the Pueblo Indian Cultural Centre to buy a few gifts, then made our way to the Hispanic Cultural Centre. This is a showcase for the Hispanic population and is a large complex comprising an elegant school from the 1940s (now housing a restaurant), together with galleries, theatres and conference facilities in striking modern buildings.
Apart from the lack of an obvious central visitors’ reception and poor signposting, to indicate which building is where, the Centre is an impressive place. After a reasonably priced and very tasty buffet lunch in the restaurant, we visited the art gallery which had an excellent permanent exhibition of Hispanic modern art and a temporary exhibition of Cuban art.
It was then time to leave Albuquerque for Santa Fe, about 60 miles north. On the way, we stopped in at the Santa Domingo Pueblo which was advertised on the main road and mentioned in our guide book, with hours which suggested that it would be open. As we entered the Pueblo and began driving along a dusty street we were waved down by a man who brusquely told us the village was closed to visitors and to put away the camera Philip was cradling in his lap. We beat a hasty retreat, somewhat miffed as there was no sign indicating that the Pueblo was closed to tourists. We had read that native American establishments sometimes close arbitrarily and without notice – this seemed to be such a case.
From the highways it is, sadly, all to easy to spot where the pueblos are, as the exits are heralded by enormous flashy neon signs advertising the casinos that are located close by.
Saturday 21st February
After many nights in anonymous chain motels with monotonous breakfasts, it was a real pleasure to stay in a motel with rooms with character, a freshly-cooked breakfast and a newspaper to read (though international news occupied only about half a page).
Wandering into the Old Town to the plaza where the old Santa Fe trail from Missouri ended, we encountered an all too familiar problem, of not being able to find the town’s Visitor's Centre, even by asking locals. When we did find the Centre, it was closed. Maybe this is the downside of visiting out of season.
Santa Fe seemed totally geared to wealthy tourists, with a plethora of shops selling antiques, fine art, American Indian craft and luxury goods from all over the world.
Much of the Old Town has been modified over the years to a standard 'adobe' style and most new buildings have the thick rounded walls with brown roughcast plaster finish. At a distance, it is difficult to distinguish real old from new “old”, but it is usually obvious on close examination. The whole of the north side of the plaza is occupied by the Palace of the Governors. Built early in the 17th century, it is reputed to be the oldest public building in the US.
Along the entire length of the wide verandah of the Palace was a line of Pueblo Indians wrapped in blankets against the chilly breeze and seated on camp stools with their wares laid out on rugs- silver and turquoise jewellery, pottery, stoneware, sand pictures. It was a pleasant change not to have gaudy advertising or hard sales talk but to be able to chat to individual craftsmen or women about their products. We spent quite a long time browsing up and down the line of sellers before making some purchases.
Nearby Canyon Road, one of the earliest roads in Santa Fe, is lined with old adobe-style houses which are now small art galleries selling a wide range of high-quality pictures and sculpture, both old and contemporary. Clearly, it hardly ever rains in Santa Fe as a lot of the art was on display outside.
We wandered in and out of some of the dozens of galleries, marvelling at the extraordinarily high price tags, particularly for works by European painters. Here was the end of the process, which we have previously read about in the UK, in which American art dealers buy up large quantities of high-quality works in Europe, at prices which are slightly above those which local buyers are prepared to pay, then sell them in the States at hugely inflated prices. Even out of season, there was no shortage of buyers in Canyon Road.
In the evening we went to a nearby small Spanish/New Mexican restaurant, which clearly catered largely for locals. Both the food and the ambience were excellent.
Sunday 22nd November
It was an early start for Taos, 90 miles north of Santa Fe. Taos is a pleasant little town with a reasonably attractive plaza, surrounded by a few art shops, fashion boutiques, a hotel and a couple of cafes. It was quiet today but probably teems with tourists in season. We carried on out to Taos Pueblo, which is a UN World Heritage Site. This is the home of Tiwa-speaking pueblo Indians. The old centre of the Pueblo, dating back at least 550-1000 years, is open to visitors, but the rest of the 150 square miles of the Pueblo is not.
The central compound consists of an open area, used for ceremonial purposes and surrounded by adobe buildings of one to three storeys. In the middle of the open area is a tall pole with four pointers, said to represent four directions, four seasons and four elements.
New Mexico's State flag incorporates a symbol which is based on the puebloan Indians' view of the world. Some of the interpretation was slightly different, but the broad ideas are similar.
A small stream, at present edged with ice, runs through the middle of the compound. Access to the upper floors of the adobe buildings is by external ladders as there are no internal stairs. Nor are there interconnecting doorways between adjacent dwellings in a single building. There are said to be about 100 permanent residents in buildings in the Pueblo centre, which has no electricity or running water. Other Pueblo residents live outside the central compound in modern houses with modern amenities, mostly in adobe style, or at least adobe colours.
There are one or more large clay ovens outside each dwelling, both inside and outside the central compound. We saw them being used in the central compound and as we drove past houses outside. Many of the buildings in the central compound were occupied by working artists with their art and craft on sale, or by residents selling flat and fried bread,. Most of the residents were very friendly and we had long and interesting talks with three artisans about their work and families. It was a good time of the year to visit as there were few visitors and the artists did not have to switch their attention to other potential purchasers. Other residents of the Pueblo, including elderly people and some children, carried on their lives with little attention to the few tourists.
After buying a few items at the Pueblo, we returned to Santa Fe.
Monday 23 November
On another gloriously fine morning, we set out north and west from Santa Fe towards Los Alamos, the site of the National Laboratory. The atomic bomb was developed at this huge facility during the second world war and weapons research continues there now, along with lot of other more constructive scientific research. It has been said that the average education level of residents of the area around Los Alamos is higher than in any other area in the US. We continued through increasingly dramatic rock formations over several miles, passing numerous high-security entrances to the National Laboratory along the way to the Bandelier National Monument. This narrow wooded canyon contains the remnants of old pueblos on the valley floor and in enlarged recesses in the canyon walls, thought to have been abandoned about 500 years ago.
Some of the cave dwellings show evidence of up to 4 levels of living, accessible only by wooden ladders at heights up to 150ft above the canyon floor. Petroglyphs were clearly visible on the canyon walls, some in seemingly inaccessible places. At the largest of the dwelling sites, a kiva (a circular underground room, thought to have been used for ceremonial purposes) had been reconstructed in the floor of the deep ledge, protected by a large overhang.
Though the mountain air was cool, the sun was warm and bright. On the valley floor, the tall, straight ponderosa pines provided welcome shade. We drove out from the Monument through forested north-facing hills and deep valleys, some with lying snow, then suddenly emerged onto a wide flat valley at least 5 miles across. This was the Valle Caldera, the centre of a collapsed volcano, which had subsequently filled up with silt and dust. We continued down a winding road through dramatic coloured cliffs to join the main route south. After negotiating the outskirts of Albuquerque in very heavy rush-hour traffic, we drove west across New Mexico in the dark, crossing the Continental Divide at 7125 feet to reach Gallup, near the State border with Arizona
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