When I arrived at the dome place the guy greeti
ng me only spoke Spanish which at first my reaction was, "I don't speak Spanish," but then I realized I know a little bit of Spanish and I could tell him the number of the pod I was staying in at least. He confirmed the number with me and then basically signaled for me to load up my stuff into the UTV and we were on our way. It was pretty hot there when I arrived, I think about 91°, so walking around and hiking up and down the hill to explore the property, as the listing suggested, didn't sound super appealing. I was already enough hot enough and tired enough that sitting in a cold dome with nothing to do but playing my phones and listen to audiobooks etc. seemed like a really nice idea. There's something really magical about having literally no obligations. Nothing to do. I had my dinner ready for later. I had plenty of water and drinks. I had snacks. I'd use the restroom and I had no chores and nothing to take care of while I was in the dome. I considered what this magical feeling was and how I could potentially recreate it without spending $300 a night driving a huge distance to a dome. I think the problem is that when I'm at home, there's always things in my view reminding me of what I could be doing; the overwhelming list of chores and to do's is a burden on me and it's not a burden when away and and being fully taken care of, essentially in a hotel. Maybe that's why I like travel so much, especially cruises when everything is taken care of for you. You don't have to feel the weight of obligations or what you're ignoring. I love planning trips, and often when it's time for the trip to actually happen, it's been so long since I planned it that I don't actually know what's happening the next day or even the next hour. But I just follow along the itinerary mindlessly and I know that my itinerary is taking care of me.
Big Bend, for its part, was better than I expected. The campground was easy to get to and easily navigable. I enjoyed some of the hiking and the nature trails and I saw all sorts of different animals, including the coyote that visited me in the morning at my campsite. I hadn't realized that there were hot springs that we could actually bathe in, so I didn't bring my bathing suit and I sort of regretted that, except that actually it was so hot out, I'm not sure that I would have enjoyed soaking in a hot spring. Some people were getting into the river probably to cool off although that was ill advised. I had to laugh at the Mexicans technically in Mexico across the river selling burritos and tamales to people willing to wade across the river (and thus, across the country border) to pay them $10 for a little tray. The camping was good, I absolutely loved the restaurant that I went to for lunch at the lodge. I kind of wish I had stayed at that lodge, maybe next time. The alien-themed Space Domes were pretty much exactly as advertised, with the exception that I was terribly disappointed to learn that I could not see the stars, not even a single bright star, through my dome from inside on my bed. Even though there was a great view stepping outside. Outside, I had a nice comfy little couch there, and I set up my tripod and I took some spectacular pictures.
The stargazing was absolutely amazing. But not being able to see that in the dome kind of took away from the whole point of the dome. Then there are the bugs. So many bugs. I don't know how many bites I have. It's got to be in the double digits. And that was with the Australian grade bug spray. I'm surprised it seems like the bugs even bit me through layers of clothing. They're vicious out here. The Space Cowboys place mentioned that Big Ben is the national park with the most bugs. I believe it! I can't believe it's early November and it's still so freaking hot here. Although when I drove up to that lodge for lunch at the restaurant it got down to about 60° I think. Amazing what elevation change can do.
All this has me thinking again about what my ideal house would be. I still think I need some sort of a bomb shelter or something in the basement to run away from whatever calamity could happen; one with lots of stores of those food packets that will last forever and water. And I want it to be somewhat comfortable so that if I needed to be there I actually would feel at home. In fact, it might be something that I do a little staycation in once a year just to make sure the supplies are all good and freshen up the water supply or something like that. Be a fun little retreat. Kind of like the dome has been for me here. More and more I think I want a walking track or running track made out of that recycled tire rubber. Something soft but firm that I can walk and run on. Although it would be great if it had a top layer that would not stain my feet so that I could walk barefoot because, you know, I hate putting on shoes and socks.
Two of the features that I really enjoyed in the dome were the light effects. In one case, there were three pretty simplistic pendant lights that were essentially the whole dome's lights and they were on a slow revolving color scheme so they would shift through the colors of the rainbow. I never thought that I would like that until now, but I really enjoyed that. The other thing was a little space cowboy, to match the theme of the place, that would project lasers and different options would project rotating galactic images. The combination of the two made for all sorts of fun colors, but as the night wore on I turned off the pendant lights and just left the galaxy lights running all night. It's a little silly and hokey but you know what, it went with the theme and I quite enjoyed it. Not sure that I would get something like that for my home, but definitely in the theme and mindset of the Space Dome it was so fitting and didn't seem silly at all.
I would say that the area around the Rio Grande campground, although it had some great wildlife chances, was pretty lackluster in scenery. Even where I was supposed to see the Rio Grande it didn't look very grande at all. Going up into the mountains towards the lodge where I went for lunch, that had a little bit more grandeur. It felt a little bit like Yosemite in the way that the monolithic mounds just soared above you with a breathtaking sheer, one of those things that pictures just don't do justice. You have to come and see it. All the more reason I kind of wish I had stayed at that lodge. But lunch with a view was great and truly that food at the lodge was absolutely amazing. I was so excited to have my leftovers for dinner. Kind of wish I had gotten the dessert also but I was stuffed at the time.
Driving down to Big Bend has given me lots of reasons why I dislike Texas. You can tell that the heat is a big problem because people have RVs or lived in buses that have a structure built over the top of them basically to capture the sun so that it's not hitting directly the exterior of their vehicle. One part felt like I was driving through Mexico. It was that poor feeling. Other than that, there's a lot of flatness, and it wasn't really pretty. There were some interesting attempts at tourist traps along the way, nothing that I would actually want to stop at, though. There is one place that looks like a freaking castle in the middle of nowhere, piqued my interest a little bit. I'll have to look more into that one. But overall, even as I was driving through really distant rural areas, I checked Zillow and the house prices weren't that much cheaper. So it seems that there's no benefit in being out in the middle of nowhere. I don't think I've ever seen so much deer roadkill than I have on this drive.
I had to laugh as I was drawing the comparisons between Australia and out here. Not that this is anything like the Australia that I've experienced necessarily, but it was described in the book I was listening to called "In a Sunburned Country." The author is an American travel writer who decided to cross Australia on
land versus the way the most Australians do which would be flying from city to city. So he was talking about these long stretches of boring landscape and nothing to see or do and the occasional very, very old dated structures or the old windmills like from the 1950s. And as he's describing these things I'm seeing them to the left and right of me as I'm driving. So I guess a lot of Texas feels like 1950s America, as does Australia.
ng me only spoke Spanish which at first my reaction was, "I don't speak Spanish," but then I realized I know a little bit of Spanish and I could tell him the number of the pod I was staying in at least. He confirmed the number with me and then basically signaled for me to load up my stuff into the UTV and we were on our way. It was pretty hot there when I arrived, I think about 91°, so walking around and hiking up and down the hill to explore the property, as the listing suggested, didn't sound super appealing. I was already enough hot enough and tired enough that sitting in a cold dome with nothing to do but playing my phones and listen to audiobooks etc. seemed like a really nice idea. There's something really magical about having literally no obligations. Nothing to do. I had my dinner ready for later. I had plenty of water and drinks. I had snacks. I'd use the restroom and I had no chores and nothing to take care of while I was in the dome. I considered what this magical feeling was and how I could potentially recreate it without spending $300 a night driving a huge distance to a dome. I think the problem is that when I'm at home, there's always things in my view reminding me of what I could be doing; the overwhelming list of chores and to do's is a burden on me and it's not a burden when away and and being fully taken care of, essentially in a hotel. Maybe that's why I like travel so much, especially cruises when everything is taken care of for you. You don't have to feel the weight of obligations or what you're ignoring. I love planning trips, and often when it's time for the trip to actually happen, it's been so long since I planned it that I don't actually know what's happening the next day or even the next hour. But I just follow along the itinerary mindlessly and I know that my itinerary is taking care of me. Big Bend, for its part, was better than I expected. The campground was easy to get to and easily navigable. I enjoyed some of the hiking and the nature trails and I saw all sorts of different animals, including the coyote that visited me in the morning at my campsite. I hadn't realized that there were hot springs that we could actually bathe in, so I didn't bring my bathing suit and I sort of regretted that, except that actually it was so hot out, I'm not sure that I would have enjoyed soaking in a hot spring. Some people were getting into the river probably to cool off although that was ill advised. I had to laugh at the Mexicans technically in Mexico across the river selling burritos and tamales to people willing to wade across the river (and thus, across the country border) to pay them $10 for a little tray. The camping was good, I absolutely loved the restaurant that I went to for lunch at the lodge. I kind of wish I had stayed at that lodge, maybe next time. The alien-themed Space Domes were pretty much exactly as advertised, with the exception that I was terribly disappointed to learn that I could not see the stars, not even a single bright star, through my dome from inside on my bed. Even though there was a great view stepping outside. Outside, I had a nice comfy little couch there, and I set up my tripod and I took some spectacular pictures.
The stargazing was absolutely amazing. But not being able to see that in the dome kind of took away from the whole point of the dome. Then there are the bugs. So many bugs. I don't know how many bites I have. It's got to be in the double digits. And that was with the Australian grade bug spray. I'm surprised it seems like the bugs even bit me through layers of clothing. They're vicious out here. The Space Cowboys place mentioned that Big Ben is the national park with the most bugs. I believe it! I can't believe it's early November and it's still so freaking hot here. Although when I drove up to that lodge for lunch at the restaurant it got down to about 60° I think. Amazing what elevation change can do. All this has me thinking again about what my ideal house would be. I still think I need some sort of a bomb shelter or something in the basement to run away from whatever calamity could happen; one with lots of stores of those food packets that will last forever and water. And I want it to be somewhat comfortable so that if I needed to be there I actually would feel at home. In fact, it might be something that I do a little staycation in once a year just to make sure the supplies are all good and freshen up the water supply or something like that. Be a fun little retreat. Kind of like the dome has been for me here. More and more I think I want a walking track or running track made out of that recycled tire rubber. Something soft but firm that I can walk and run on. Although it would be great if it had a top layer that would not stain my feet so that I could walk barefoot because, you know, I hate putting on shoes and socks.
Two of the features that I really enjoyed in the dome were the light effects. In one case, there were three pretty simplistic pendant lights that were essentially the whole dome's lights and they were on a slow revolving color scheme so they would shift through the colors of the rainbow. I never thought that I would like that until now, but I really enjoyed that. The other thing was a little space cowboy, to match the theme of the place, that would project lasers and different options would project rotating galactic images. The combination of the two made for all sorts of fun colors, but as the night wore on I turned off the pendant lights and just left the galaxy lights running all night. It's a little silly and hokey but you know what, it went with the theme and I quite enjoyed it. Not sure that I would get something like that for my home, but definitely in the theme and mindset of the Space Dome it was so fitting and didn't seem silly at all.
I would say that the area around the Rio Grande campground, although it had some great wildlife chances, was pretty lackluster in scenery. Even where I was supposed to see the Rio Grande it didn't look very grande at all. Going up into the mountains towards the lodge where I went for lunch, that had a little bit more grandeur. It felt a little bit like Yosemite in the way that the monolithic mounds just soared above you with a breathtaking sheer, one of those things that pictures just don't do justice. You have to come and see it. All the more reason I kind of wish I had stayed at that lodge. But lunch with a view was great and truly that food at the lodge was absolutely amazing. I was so excited to have my leftovers for dinner. Kind of wish I had gotten the dessert also but I was stuffed at the time.
Driving down to Big Bend has given me lots of reasons why I dislike Texas. You can tell that the heat is a big problem because people have RVs or lived in buses that have a structure built over the top of them basically to capture the sun so that it's not hitting directly the exterior of their vehicle. One part felt like I was driving through Mexico. It was that poor feeling. Other than that, there's a lot of flatness, and it wasn't really pretty. There were some interesting attempts at tourist traps along the way, nothing that I would actually want to stop at, though. There is one place that looks like a freaking castle in the middle of nowhere, piqued my interest a little bit. I'll have to look more into that one. But overall, even as I was driving through really distant rural areas, I checked Zillow and the house prices weren't that much cheaper. So it seems that there's no benefit in being out in the middle of nowhere. I don't think I've ever seen so much deer roadkill than I have on this drive.
I had to laugh as I was drawing the comparisons between Australia and out here. Not that this is anything like the Australia that I've experienced necessarily, but it was described in the book I was listening to called "In a Sunburned Country." The author is an American travel writer who decided to cross Australia on land versus the way the most Australians do which would be flying from city to city. So he was talking about these long stretches of boring landscape and nothing to see or do and the occasional very, very old dated structures or the old windmills like from the 1950s. And as he's describing these things I'm seeing them to the left and right of me as I'm driving. So I guess a lot of Texas feels like 1950s America, as does Australia.
And a quick update if you are
following my love story with Sam from Australia, we've completely
reconciled as far as I can tell and Sam is super excited to see me when I
go out there at the end of December, and we're already planning our
next excursions beyond that. I'm so happy that we're back to normal. I
think he just needed a little bit of time to process a few things, but
we're happier than ever and I honestly don't want to date anyone else.
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