I finally felt well enough to handle the stress of going to the airport, taking a short flight and living in a hotel for a few days so I decided to go to Arizona two weeks ago. I wanted to go somewhere far away enough that I’d have to fly, but wouldn’t have to be on the plane for more than 2-3 hours in case I got a flare up of pain. Originally I was planning to go to Miami but I found out after checking out hotel prices that it was spring break – the best or worst time of the year to go to South Beach depending on how you look at it. I didn’t think I could handle a 5-6 hour flight yet either.
I assumed I’d be going to Phoenix but I learned that Phoenix isn’t actually much of a tourist destination. Phoenix, Tempe, and Scottsdale all kind of overlap, and Scottsdale — as an upscale, walkable area — sounded exactly like what I wanted.
SNA to PHX: Why I love going to the airport
My Southwest flight was to depart from SNA around noon. One thing I miss about traveling is being at the airport – at the beginning of your trip, not on the way back. Because when returning from a vacation, although I’m usually glad to be going home to my own bed, I start having this kind of bittersweet nostalgia as I reflect on the memories I just made. It’s that buzz you get when your trip is just starting that I love. It usually puts me in one of those super good moods where things that usually annoy the crap out of you suddenly become funny. I feel no anger towards the lady in front of me in the security line who looks like she’s never done this before, or the people who cut right in front of you with their giant rolling luggage.
A cliche airport thing that gets me is when you see family or couples giving goodbye, or welcome back, hugs or kisses. Maybe they’re just stoked to get away from their significant other for a while and enjoy some freedom. It’s the ultimate airport “moment.” I would put a reference to Up in the Air or The Terminal here but I don’t remember much about either of them except that JK Simmons’ character tells George Clooney’s character that we love athletes because they bang lingerie models in the former.
Fast forward to arriving in Phoenix and hopping in my Uber. I learn from the driver that MLB spring training has been pushed back indefinitely and may be cancelled completely due to negotiations breaking down this offseason. I had forgotten that Arizona is the spring training home to many major league teams. I later overhear at breakfast at my hotel that in past years some major league coaches would stay at this same Hyatt for spring training. I’m like, whoa, MLB coaches were eating the same shitty food I am in this very room? No way!
I get settled in and rest for a little bit, then decide to walk around the area near my hotel. I walk towards the Arizona canal thinking there will be lots of cool stuff there since it’s near a canal. There aren’t many other people walking around. I stop at the bridge connecting the Scottsdale Waterfront and Southbridge sections of Old Town Scottsdale and try in take in this new place. It seems to be mostly middle-aged Caucasian people. I feel a little bit out of place but I do see some of Asian bruddas and sistas. After wasting 20 minutes trying to find the perfect place to eat, I finally get tired of using my phone and go to Olive & Ivy.
I observe Olive & Ivy Restaurant and it’s observable hostess
The place is packed so I feel good about my choice. One thing I remember from that restaurant is the hostess. She was wearing this leather skirt, some boots, and had her hair tied back. She’s like what you’d imagine a typical hostess would be like who works at a trendy, upscale restaurant in a busy city. Kind of serious, but still courteous. Head held high as she oversees the entrance of all those who wish to dine at this fine establishment. I couldn’t tell if I was attracted to her or if she was just interesting to observe. Those are probably the same thing, huh?
I actually didn’t plan on doing a blog post for this trip but I decided that I’d try starting at the restaurant. It’s just been too much work dealing with the chronic pain but I felt like I could do a decent write-up on my 3-day adventure given my resurgent health. So my first step was to capture the really open, airy, and welcoming ambiance of Olive & Ivy. I felt self-conscious standing away from my table to take photos so here’s the best I could do.
After burning my tongue on the sweet potato filled pasta I ordered, popping a migraine med, and a little bit more people watching, I decide to go back to the room to chill for a bit.
Historic Old Town Scottsdale: I run away from Rusty Spur Saloon, judge people at Sugar Bowl and get lit at HULA’s Modern Tiki
That night I take an Uber to the Rusty Spur Saloon, a historic bar in Old Town that was mentioned as a popular tourist destination. After going inside, seeing how small the place was and being deafened by the volume of the woman singing live I quickly decided to escape. I really wanted to try a sarsaparilla here like they used to do back in the heyday of sheriffs and outlaws (I have no idea if that’s true I just thought that’s what they drank back then) but my ear drums were telling me no way. I realize that I should have gone to the younger, more hip part of town, but since I’m here I decide hop in the time machine and see what the midwest looked like 50 years ago.
It seems like every store is trinket store that sells jewelry, gems, or blankets. I have given myself a limit of 1 drink for the night and I’m getting eager to feel a buzz so I settle on a tiki-bar themed restaurant that opens out welcomingly to the street and temperate night air. After a shot of Patron I’m very tempted to order a second round. I keep my promise to myself and decide to go wander the streets some more.
I find myself conveniently in front of Sugar Bowl, a famous dessert shop in Old Town. Sadly I rarely let myself eat dessert so I take a couple of photos of the spot as a memory instead. Then I judge the people inside for their sugar and saturated fat addictions wishing I could join them in their gluttony.
Someone at HULA’s Modern Tiki told me to go to this restaurant called AZ88 so I head over there on foot. There’s ongoing construction in the area that blocks a direct path to AZ88 from where I am. I try to find a way around but I just end up tiring myself out so I decide to call it a night.
The next morning I go to the complimentary breakfast and as I expected, there is very little in the way of hot food. There are those fake scrambled eggs, diced potatoes, and bacon. I had some oatmeal in my room I brought from home so I’m content to just try some potatoes, a little bit of eggs with Frank’s hot sauce to drown the taste and what I think was grapefruit juice.
I get emotional at Butterfly Wonderland like a weirdo
Originally, I planned to center my one full day in AZ around the Scottsdale Museum of Contemporary Art but I decided to go to this butterfly habitat called Butterfly Wonderland — about a 10 min drive from Old Town Scottsdale. I’m glad I went because I got that “hell yea I’m on vacation and I’m doing something badass” feeling as you’ll see later.
After buying your ticket and passing through the photo zone, you come to this room which I call the staging room. It’s the room before you actually go out into the greenhouse that houses all the butterflies. What’s crazy about this place is that inside the staging room they are literally, in these glass enclosures, growing all the chrysalises that will eventually become butterflies and be released into the greenhouse. So there’s just rows and rows of them all labeled with the different species names in this about 15ft wide by 5ft high enclosure for you to see. It’s like when they show you the fields of human beings being harvested for energy in the 1st Matrix movie. I guess I found it weird that they hatch these bad boys right in the middle of the building in plain sight, as opposed to some controlled scientific lab in the back. To me it’d be like having a newborn nursery in the middle of big clothing outlet or something.
The two girls working there explain how they purchases the chrysalises from all over the world and how long it takes for them to turn into adult butterflies, as well as other fun facts about the exhibit that I just eat up. One of them tells me its a good time to go out to the main exhibit, the greenhouse, because a large field trip of elementary school kids is about to come rolling through and destroy some shit. There’s a small room that separates the staging room and the greenhouse; it’s like an airlock to keep too many people, or butterflies, from coming in or out at once. I open the door to the main exhibit and I find myself in a humid greenhouse with daylight peaking in at certain angles like it were carefully providing just the right amount of sun to keep the plants and butterflies inside perfectly comfortable. It looks like something out of a children’s storybook.
There are supposed to be thousands of butterflies in here, so I’m expecting to get hit in the mouth with a bunch of them as soon as I enter but at first I don’t really see any. Then as I begin to walk around I slowly notice them. It’s great because everywhere you look pretty much they’re are butterflies to see, but they aren’t swarming all around you or precariously sitting all over the walking paths so you’d have to watch your step everywhere you go. And there’s a gentle soundtrack playing in the background, like the stuff you hear when you watch nature shows, that adds this kind of magical, uplifting feeling to the whole thing.
It’s at this point where I feel really happy because I’m doing something cool. I’m on vacation and I’m experiencing something new and all the pain I’ve been through in the past few months seems a distant memory. I do my best to savor the feeling, to just appreciate how lucky I am do be there on that day. I get a kick out of hearing the kids talk about the butterflies and seeing how excited every little thing gets them. I take a few photos of the native residents and a few trying to capture the essence of the light that almost eerily enters the greenhouse. Then I say goodbye to the new winged friends I’ve made and wish them a happy, but short, existence.
I try to take photos like an Instagram influencer at Papago Park and Hole-In-The-Rock Trail
After an amazing morning I think about what I should squeeze in before dinner. It’s my last chance to do anything here as I fly out the next morning. An Uber driver I met earlier in the trip recommended Papago Park, a hiking and recreation area about 10 min away from Old Town. He tells me about hole-in-the-rock, a popular scenic lookout which only takes about 5 minutes to walk up to from the parking lot. I’m still out of shape so a low effort, high reward view is exactly what I want. The park is massive and there’s much to explore but I’m limited on time and lung capacity. It’s home to the Desert Botanical Garden – which was mentioned a few times as worth visiting – as well as the Phoenix Zoo.
I think I’m being super creative and take a photo through the hole you pass through to get to the lookout point. Later I realize that every single person who comes here does this. I take a seat and take in the view for a little bit, overhearing the conversations of a couple other groups inside the chamber. This would be a perfect moment to enjoy with my friends, I think to myself. Shortly after I realize I probably haven’t eaten enough today and decide to head back to the city to grab an early dinner.
I’m tired so I order to-go from Citizen Public House, a gastropub in Old Town Scottsdale. The crispy branzino with beet puree is delicious. After dinner I pass out for about 12 hours. By the time I get up it’s time to get ready to head to the airport, so that’s pretty much it for this trip. Hope you guys enjoyed the read.
