Taos

Originally Posted Saturday, June 8, 2013

Taos, N.M.  4:11 p.m.

It is so bizarre here that I must write it.  I drove to Taos today from Santa Fe and checked into a B&B, the Palacio de Marquesa.  A friend of mine sent me a link to an online price and told me I should stay.  So when I drove into town, I let Google Maps talk me in on my cell phone.  I drove down a narrow road that did not seem spectacular, but the lodging was on a large piece of property and looked nice.  I drove away and through town looking for other accomodations just to make certain I wouldn't blame myself later.  Then I came back.  The owner had just bought the place a month ago.  He showed me two rooms.  One I knew I wouldn't take, the Library Room.  It was big and lovely with a private garden in back, a separate bedroom and a living room which was actually a library.  Kitchen, etc. 

"This is a place to get engaged in," I said, "but I think I'll be better suited in the other."

So I took the Willow Room, smaller. . . and cheaper.  He wanted $195/night, but I told him I could book it online for much less.  Oh that internet.  So he let me have it for $129.  The place is swell with a wonderful grand room and breakfast hall, snacks and drinks, etc.  I'm looking forward to the breakfast in the morning.  It is the sort of living I enjoy, this. 

After getting settled, I walked into town.  Taos is nothing as I remembered it from twenty years ago, but what is?  The sun was bright and the sky spotless and at times there was a gentle cooling breeze.  I walked the square and around the town and then settled in for an outside lunch.  Just as I sat down, Red texted me.  She is alone in Paris.  What should she do, she wanted to know.  The days had turned nice, sunny and warm.  Go to the Gare D'Orsay, I said.  Don't be a fool.  Of course the Cathedral Notre Dame is free and overwhelming no matter how often you have been.  Walk the Jardin du Luxembourg on the Left Bank and the Tuileries Gardens on the Right.  Oh, she said, I love Montmartre best.  Go to the Pompidou, I said.  Tan your titties on the banks of the Seine.  You can do that? she asked.  Yup, I said, all the secretaries do it at lunch.  Monday, she said.  I will do it Monday.  And then lunch was over and Red and I went our separate ways, me thinking of Paris and of never being bored. 

After lunch I became hideously tired and walked back to the room to take a nap.  I closed the blinds and took off all my clothes and lay in the cool darkness of the hot afternoon, tingling.  Two hours later, I was awakened by the rumble of thunder.  And that is where we are now.  I got up to look outside and it was almost dark.  The thunder rumbled long and loud, and then a tremendous wind kicked up and blew the trees and sand this way and that.  The rain blew in through the screen door.  It was a howler, and then. . . it was gone.  The whole thing lasted five minutes. 

Now the sky is blue and sunny again.  I will go out to watch the flowers bloom.