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San Miguel Writers Conference 2012, Mexico

San Miguel

 

It’s official.

I booked it last week.

I’m flying to Mexico City, staying overnight and getting on the bus, Gus, and heading on up to San Miguel de Allende.

It’s all Michele Peterson’s fault. She emailed a while ago to say she was going & we could share a room.  She knew I wouldn’t be able to say no.

I’ve looked at this conference over the years and thought it sounded like a fine, fine idea.

And now I’m going. 

It’s a great impetus to get writing. Like really, really writing.

After all, I’ll be hanging out with Margaret Atwood. I’m sure Peggy will want to go for drinks or something so we can discuss the literary process. Yeh, yeh, that’s it. Me & Pegster, hanging poolside.  

I’m sure that’s how it will go.

Travel Talk and Flying Stars

Inside Flying Star, Albuquerque, New Mexico

 
What It’s Like to Be a Travel Writer…

I’ll be speaking from 7 – 8 pm at the New Westminster location of Douglas College. Joe Wiebe teaches writing there and has asked me to come speak to his class about travel writing.

I’ve been to two of his classes now and did the same thing on a panel at UBC, the one at Daniel Wood’s writing class at SFU and was part of the panel at Word on the Street last fall…

But still, I’m always a little flummoxed as to what exactly to tell them.

There is such a silly amount of hype around the whole thing.

Perhaps I’ll just start with the usual thing about how I sort of fell into the thing because I submitted a Reader’s Postcard piece to the Vancouver Sun and won an umbrella. Then I submitted to another conblog and won a suitcase!

Well, stop the presses, it sort of got me thinking. What if I got some cash along with the suitcase and the umbrella? Clearly I could go anywhere that way.

The umbrella got pretty tatty looking, and, in fact, I think it’s long ago disappeared into the pile at the hospital auxiliary thrift shop. 

The suitcase is in the basement somewhere, buried under the new lightweight, wheelie carry-on models that are my preferred mode of travel.

Maybe I’ll regale them with tales of last September’s stay at the Prague Buddha Bar Hotel with the remote control bidet…always a crowd-pleaser.

Or maybe I’ll just talk about the photo I’ve posted here, because it’s a lot more representative of things I do.

This is an interior shot of the Flying Star Restaurant in Albuquerque, New Mexico. I just ate there the other night with my new friend June Jackson. 

Apparently, there are seven Flying Stars in Albuquerque and two more around the state of New Mexico.

This location, at Silver & 8th, was great fun and served up mostly pretty healthy food (with the exception of the to-die-for dessert and baking displays).  We got there around 8 or 9 pm and the steady line of customers never let up.

It’s all set up with good prices and a cafeteria-style system.  We both had the Buddha Bowl and it was a lovely rice dish with piles of fresh veggies in a tasty sauce. I asked the manager how many plates they put through ..1900/week. 

It was a great contrast to the piles of gooey nachos I’d been eating all week in Taos.

It wasn’t quite as glam as the Buddha Bar, but it felt like we were getting into a very real slice of Albuquerque.

And isn’t that the goal of travel? Trying to navigate our way into the heart and centre of things?

Maybe that’s what I’ll tell them. Don’t do this for the big bucks – because there really isn’t any.  Do it if you want to get out there and then…once you’re there…to go into the experience as deeply as possible.

Going Home

Doesn’t it always seem strange to be having your coffee in one place, knowing that the next morning you’ll be having coffee in a completely different part of the world?

Here I sit in this lovely B&B, sipping strong coffee and cream. The maples outside the parlour’s window are already highlighted by the strong Albuquerque sun. It will get to 96 degrees today. I’m sure yesterday was at least that hot. 

And tomorrow morning, I’ll be having a coffee with Kevin in the airport hotel in Vancouver, British Columbia before we travel home to Sechelt.

People (often myself included) will whinge on about long flights and waits and the never-endingness of flying. But I’m here to tell you (and me again) that really, it’s all happening too fast.

There is no time to assimilate, to transistion from one landscape into another.  I think that this is what often contributes to what we call jet lag; it is a discombobulation, a stunned semi-shock at suddenly hearing new languages, smelling new aromas and trying to navigate a culture so different from the one you’ve left behind.

Trust me, I don’t want to walk home, but I think it’s important to leave a day or two on either side of a journey, to just rest into the next place. Too often, I just jump too fast into my life I’ve left behind.  Perhaps it might be smarter to sit with it a little, hang out and reflect and absorb…

That’s the plan from my comfy couch this morning. We’ll see how it goes.

Back In Albuquerque

Orchids and Chair

I’m back at the Mauger Estates B & B.

In spite of only being gone less than a week to the Taos Conference, I feel like I’ve been gone forever and have finally come back ‘home’. This place is a balm for the wrung-out memoir-writing soul. I’m sharing a large suite with my fellow memoirist, June Jackson, from St. Simon, Georgia.

We’ve just walked back from the Growers Market where we had veggie tamales and the best juice ever made. Homemade lemonade with fresh basil, blackberry with sage and watermelon with who knows what. If you’re ever in Albuquerque on a Saturday, find your way to the wonderful juice lady in the centre of the field.

But for now, the heat is just too much to take. We’ve retreated into the air-conditioned genteel atmosphere of this lovely home – and that’s really how it feels – very much a kick-your-shoes-off-and-stay-awhile kind of place.

I might head down the stairs in a few minutes to sample some of the homemade chocolate chip cookies on the buffet. You really have got to love a place that puts out fresh baking every afternoon. Seems very civilized to me.

On the little coffee table in front of me, there are two long stems of some type of orchid. They are shifting in the breeze created from the cooled air system. Unlike my recent stay at the Comfort Suites, where the air con sounded like a jet taking off, this air is more of a slight fanning sound. It’s rather apropos that it too, would have a refined sensibility.

I feel like I should swan about on the parlour divan or something with the back of my hand pressed dramatically on my forehead.

This place just feels so Cat on a Hot Tin Roof. Did I mention the faux leopard print upholstered slipper chair in this room? It’s unexpected and irreverent. This place has personality and I’m so glad June and I are here together, rather than some generic airport hotel.

And now, I am going to finally get to work on the editing required for a story that will be published soon.

Mercy Me…it’s Memoir

Still Waiting...

Have Mercy.

Our instructor, Minrose Gwin, picked another student and myself to read an extra five pages of our work-in-progress memoir. I went first and then had to sit – silently – while they took turns offering their constructive criticism about it and the previous 15-page excerpt I had sent via email.

I had sweat rings by the time it was done. Everyone was so thoughtful and eloquent and helpful. And Minrose? Well, hello people, you couldn’t find a more encouraging and intensely-kind but direct, woman on the planet.

I was in the presence of greatness and am humbled by how much and how deeply these people, who had been strangers only the day before, were willing to help.

Now. I just need to do the work. Just. I say that, like I’ll just sit down and knock it off. There’s a lot to do, but I’m ready.