About a year and a half ago, Jess and Torsten visited Chicago, and Nilsa and I had the pleasure of meeting them in person.  It was March, and Chicago was experiencing a freak spring snowstorm.  Poor Torsten in particular looked miserable, and as he and Jess were getting into a cab at the end of the day, she confided in me: “Chicago used to be on our short list of cities we might move to, but after this weather, there’s no way Torsten would ever move here.” So instead, they moved to Denver.

I spent the last several days in Denver, which happens to be home to my dear friend Pookie.  I also caught up with Jess for a fruitless shopping trip in search of boots that fit my narrow calves.  Note to bootmakers: PLEASE SOMEONE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD MAKE BOOTS THAT DON’T LOOK LIKE GALOSHES ON NARROW-CALVED GIRLS.

Ahem.

The day after the boot bust, I decided to take myself on a hike.  I was in Denver mid-week, so Pookie was working, and I thought “this is what vacation is all about! Relaxing! Hiking! Taking in the scenery!”  I researched hikes in the front range/Boulder area, picked on that was a moderate-sounding 4.5 miles, and set off.

I drove out of Denver towards the hills.  After about 20 minutes, I noticed something strange about the landscape:

What is that white stuff dusting the side of the road?  Isn’t it still summer? Yes, technically it’s the final day of summer, but still.  SUMMER.

As I drove on, it became clear that the mountains had not gotten the “it’s still summer” memo.

I found the trailhead and parked.  There were probably 6 inches of snow on the ground. I was wearing jeans and running shoes.  This was not going to be pretty.  But, I thought to myself, I drove myself this far, and I’m on vacation in Colorado, and I’m going to HIKE, goddammit.  Through the snow.

Also, um, my feet are going to be a little wet.

So I hiked the 4.5 mile hike through the snow.  Large menacing clumps of snow kept falling off the trees and scaring the bejesus out of me as they landed with a loud whump. But when I got to the top of the loop and saw the view, I was pretty glad I had done it.

On the way back to the car, I encountered a group of four women and eight dogs, hiking together.  I could tell they were actually from Colorado, because they were wearing boots and snowpants. I had not thought to pack such things for my summer trip.

“Wow, you feel safe enough to hike this trail alone?” one of them asked me.

“Well, I did, until you said that!” I said. “I’m from out of town, maybe I just don’t know any better?”

“Well, I would never hike a trail like this alone,” she said, and then walked off.

I didn’t ask her what she meant by “a trail like this.”  I’m choosing to believe she meant “one covered in unexpected summer snow” rather than “one where the military has been testing land mines” or “one located in such close proximity to the breeding ground for angry badgers”.

So, hiking in the snow: good times. But Jess, I have to say: a full on SNOWSTORM in SUMMER is way way way more extreme than the weather in Chicago, and yet you guys moved to Denver anyway.  Just sayin’.

Oh hi! I went to Egypt and got back almost a week ago! And have yet to write anything about it!  There are reasons for this.  Specifically: (a) we had no internet until Wednesday night; (b) I brought home with me some sort of unpleasant King Tut’s Revenge-style stomach ailment about which we shall never speak again; and (c) as soon as that cleared up I was felled by a massive headcold.  PLUS I got ANOTHER terrible Jennifer Anniston-style haircut, and while that is not technically a reason for delay in posting, it is still clouding my outlook today, so I thought I should mention it.

Ahem.

So I went to Egypt!

I saw pyramids:

It's so big it doesn't fit in the frame!

I rode a camel:

Me, on a camel. No big deal.

I allowed myself to be photographed with my husband while he was wearing a neckerchief:

Christmas Card 2009

But I wasn’t pleased about it:

Neckerchief? Really?

Perhaps we should look at the camels again.

awwww. camel.

My camel was non-plussed at being ridden. He made loud bellowing noises of displeasure the entire time, which caused all the other camels to look at us in alarm, like I was doing something to HURT my  camel, like  perhaps wearing jagged spurs instead of innocuous sandals.  As soon as I dismounted, my camel threw himself to the ground and started flailing dramatically, as if to illustrate how annoyed he was:

Diva.

John looked so comfortable on his camel that his camel-handler let go of the lead rope and let John go off on his own.  John’s camel promptly took off at a trot towards some distant hills, away from the group, as John tried calmly and rationally to instruct the camel to go back the other way. It was hilarious.

I still can’t really believe it.  I went to Egypt.  I saw the great pyramids, and the sphinx. I endured 113 degree heat. I sailed on the Nile.  It seems so unlikely that I would do these things, and yet, there is photographic evidence indicating that I did.

That feeling of disbelief was with me for much of our time in Egypt, actually. The scale of the pyramids and temples is awesome (in the literal “awe-inspiring” sense as well as the “cool, dude!” sense). How could a these possibly have been built 4000 years ago, with no modern machinery? Seeing the burial mask of Tutankamen in real life was totally surreal.  Looking at the unbelievable riches that were found in his tomb, it’s hard to imagine the workmanship and time and effort that went into preparing these items that were always intended to be buried with him. (And he was a minor pharaoh! Major Pharaohs would have had much more!)

After two days of touring temples and tombs I realized that I was becoming inured to the heiroglyphics and carvings and paintings and sculptures in these amazing sites because there were just so MANY of them.  It’s not unlike the feeling you get in the Met or the Louvre, where there is so much amazing art that it’s impossible to appreciate it all, and one can start to get a little cavalier about it- “oh that old thing? Just some 4,000 year old carvings that are full of rich meaning and tell the history of an ancient culture.  No big deal.”

I am SO GLAD that we went on this trip- without saying too much about Things Which Shall Not Be Blogged, we went with  a group, and I initially felt some trepidation about tagging along with this particular group, but I am very glad I talked myself into it. They were lovely people, and I saw way more with the tour than I would have been able to see on my own.  And in case you were worried that the culture shock would be too much, and that we would feel lost and adrift, fear not:  American culture has been successfully exported and is alive and well in Egypt:

McArabia

(As much as I hate to admit it, it was delicious.)