Santa Fe hailed our arrival to the west coast. I never really thought about New Mexico as being in the west coast, but coming from the other direction, it really felt like I had entered the "suburbs" of California. (I certainly didn't get this feeling in Texas.) Once years back, N called Chicago the east coast, and I just about coughed milk out my nose. (I only did not because I wasn't drinking milk at the time). So "take that", N and 40 million Californians, New Mexico is the west coast.
There are many reasons that Santa Fe felt like the west coast, including the fact that Albertson's, the grocery store was there, that a bunch of casually dressed millionaires were walking around, or even the espresso shops on every corner. The most striking moment was when a pot bellied hippy with a white haired pony tail jumped out in front of my car at a crosswalk with a belligerent look and a hand in the halt position. Said hippy seemed to have been waiting patiently at the side of the road for a car to arrive before suddenly jumping into the road in order to make a point, and I in turn had to slam on the brakes.... Ahhhh, I was home.
To contradict myself, Santa Fe was also a lot like Jackson Hole (which is distinctly not like the west coast). Both are beautiful cities in beautiful settings, manicured to the point of almost being Disney representations of their former selves. If Epcot ever created a mini Santa Fe, it would probably be indistinguishable from the real thing, tourists, food stands and gift shops included. On the other hand, the food in Santa Fe was much better than anything that you could get in Disney or Jackson Hole. We dined at a small eco friendly ingredient oriented locally soucing free spirited trendy restaurant cafe with lot's of vegetarian options.... Ahhhh, I was home.
Look, an Indian restaurant in a Southwestern building! I find it amusing that they have to specify 'East Indian'.
There are many reasons that Santa Fe felt like the west coast, including the fact that Albertson's, the grocery store was there, that a bunch of casually dressed millionaires were walking around, or even the espresso shops on every corner. The most striking moment was when a pot bellied hippy with a white haired pony tail jumped out in front of my car at a crosswalk with a belligerent look and a hand in the halt position. Said hippy seemed to have been waiting patiently at the side of the road for a car to arrive before suddenly jumping into the road in order to make a point, and I in turn had to slam on the brakes.... Ahhhh, I was home.
To contradict myself, Santa Fe was also a lot like Jackson Hole (which is distinctly not like the west coast). Both are beautiful cities in beautiful settings, manicured to the point of almost being Disney representations of their former selves. If Epcot ever created a mini Santa Fe, it would probably be indistinguishable from the real thing, tourists, food stands and gift shops included. On the other hand, the food in Santa Fe was much better than anything that you could get in Disney or Jackson Hole. We dined at a small eco friendly ingredient oriented locally soucing free spirited trendy restaurant cafe with lot's of vegetarian options.... Ahhhh, I was home.
Look, an Indian restaurant in a Southwestern building! I find it amusing that they have to specify 'East Indian'.
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