Meteorite Crater - Bigger than Big...

We stopped off at the Arizona Meteorite Crater, (yes, a big hole in the ground) - you approach on this winding road through miles of flat desert with nothing much but tumbleweed rolling under the car to break up the desolation of the area until you come to the big hole in the ground, and boy was it big, and oh my goodness it was windy.

When I came down I met a group of Americans (as you do in America) and happened to mention that I thought I was going to lose my trousers whilst I was up there.  It was a weird thing, from the frosty silence, I got the impression I'd committed some sort of faux pas - do Americans not mention trousers flying off on the top of mountains and laugh in a 'oh my god, I know EXACTLY what you mean' sort of way?   I could understand the resounding silence if I'd said I thought I was about to lose my knickers up there, but I didn't actually say that. 

Listen, it was interesting and all but I don't think I'd do it again because really, it was a big hole in the ground.  I did it mostly for my Dad who'd mentioned the place specifically before I left so I felt I needed to do it for him to take him some souvenirs and books and photos and things.  But, what can you say?  Long drive, big hole.  Trousers.

I thought the view on the other side was pretty darn cool though....

The trip that never was....

Here's a sad story of someone who'd booked to go to Venice tomorrow in an aeroplane, only to be thwarted by a big bad volcano in Iceland.  I'm sure everyone's heard the joke that we asked Iceland to return our cash, not send us ash, but there you go.  
There's nothing I can do about it (though in a mad moment I seriously contemplated driving there until reality bit me) and I feel for all the people all over the world who are stranded, missing the white cliffs of Dover and tea and jam and scones and watching Eastenders on the telly.   At least I've got all that, all they've got is extra sunshine and duty free.  

I know its being claimed that we can't actually SEE the ash - but how come my black car is covered in something that looks suspiciously like talcum powder mixed with grit?  How come the skies are cement coloured?  How come?

My naughty horse has refused to come in to his stable tonight, preferring to spend a romantic night in the moonlight with his 38 year old 'girlfriend' called Fergie.  (And 38 is going some for a horse...); it seems when you've got it, you've got it, even when you're a scruffy old strawberry roan with arthritic legs (no, I'm not talking about myself)...

Now, where's that map?