Tucson Arizona

Going East To Go West

            While sitting at the railroad station in Jamestown, waiting for a train that wasn’t coming, I thought I would see if there might be one I could borrow.  I found these two engines just sitting around waiting for someone to take them out for a spin.

            They looked a little too big for me, so I rounded up this instead.  I think I may be able to take on a few passengers and make a buck or two.

            I pulled it out of the barn but the people here make the tracks end in a big pit. 

            Time to exit the pit and git out of town.

            I like this old west thing so I thought I would look for someplace western for my escape.

I came across these four guys.  I didn’t have a gun but maybe the big knife would work.

            Off to the nearest airport and I found out that the Tombstone International Airport had to close.  Something about the name made people reluctant to fly there.  I booked a flight to Tucson instead.

This nice guy helped me find my gate.  Gate 13, sounds like it will be a lucky trip.

            When I arrived, this tall fellow was waving at me.  I “moseyed” on over and he introduced me to his friends.

                                                                              I met a cactus.

                                                                        I met a cactus.

                                                                       I met a cactus.

                                                                   I met a cactus…Ouch!

                                                                     I met a… SNAKE!!

            Rocks, sand, cactus, snakes, and scorpions.  I’m outta here!

            Bubba didn’t give Tucson much of a chance.  I’m sure there were some sights to see and maybe…someday…I can get him to return.  I think he will probably stay in the Southwest and rejoin his Route 66 journey.

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Columbian Gold

            Columbia is an old gold mining town.  Its history is that of the Wild West.  Wooden sidewalks, a stagecoach, and gunslingers can be found throughout town.  Gold is why the town boomed and lack of gold is why it went bust.  You can still do a little panning in the area.

            There is something better than gold in Columbia now.  It is more valuable, more important, and much better tasting.  Columbia’s current rush is a sugar rush caused by the best candy anywhere. 

          At Nelson’s Columbia Candy Kitchen, the work is hand done.  A crew of lovely ladies in their calico frocks sits at marble tables, hand rolling chocolate.  At Christmas, candy canes are lovingly pulled on huge stone tables to cool the sugars. 

          At the head of this happy crew of candy makers is Mrs. Nelson who greeted me with her usual smile.

          With all that candy around, I guess I would have a smile too.  Rumor has it that one couple was so in love with the place, they got married here.

          I couldn’t decide which great hand dipped goodies to stock up on.  They all look so good.  This may be better than the treasures I had on my Swiss trip.

          Maybe I should stock up on something for my hikes in the woods.

          I could eat this all day long.  Maybe I’ll start the day with chocolate covered coffee beans.

            After consuming copious amounts of chocolate covered coffee beans I felt an inexplicable burst of energy and decided to stroll over to Jamestown and catch a train at the state park there.

            I waited around for a few minutes and found out the engine was in the shop for repairs.  I thought I would go take a look.

          I found the engine but I couldn’t get it to start.  Maybe if I checked it out under the hood.

          The shop has the latest in high tech tools so I gave fixing the engine a try.

          I found the problem.  No spark plugs.  Instead of fussing with the big engine, I found something closer to the cars I’m used to.  Even I can drive a car you don’t have to steer.

                                                           Where will the rails take me next?

Film Stars In Cannes and Off To Italy

Bubba once again takes foot to keyboard to narrate the story of his travels in southern France.  As usual I will correct him if he strays too far off course.

            Before I set off to Italy I decided to go for a bit of luxury and visit Cannes for the film festival.   Cannes is the playground of the film stars of the world.  They have some world class hotels that have attracted visitors from royalty on down for a century or so.  These are the most ultra luxurious digs on the planet and I wasn’t allowed to set foot in any of them. 

Instead my hotel was back in Nice.  It was located on the top floor in the back of an apartment building.  My room in Nice left a little to be desired.  The people who ran the hotel were wonderful; it was just the facility itself that suffered a bit. 

 

Aside from the fact that someone in the building needed to cook stanky stuff at midnight every night, the bathroom was the major flaw.  It was even small for me and was located just a couple of feet and a louvered door from the bed.  Anyone sitting on the bed would share the experience of anyone sitting in the bathroom.  When the toilet backed up, that was it.  I grabbed the plunger and set to work.

But my day was to be spent in Cannes.  I arrived in my vintage chauffer driven Mercedes…

…sipping on my adult beverage.

No Limo, no Mercedes, Bubba came by train with the rest of us.

            I spent the day hanging out with movie stars and walking the red carpet to the famous Cannes Film Festival.

Well, Bubba was in the city, there was a Festival, but it was a little different from the Film Festival.

With all the excitement and all the stars, I had to stop for a glass or four of wine.  I don’t know if it was me or the wine but one of us got a little tipsy.

I then boarded my yacht and sailed back to Nice.

Nope!  He took the train again.  The next day all three of us boarded a train and left France for Italy.  Going from the luxurious Cote d’Azur in France to Italy was a culture shock even though they are only separated by a few miles.  Italy is easier on the wallet, and a lot more laid back.  For example, here is a picture of the train station in Monte Carlo.  All shiny chrome and polished marble.

And just a few miles away is the first stop in Italy, the Ventimiglia station.