No, we are not back in Albuquerque. But if you are looking for a whole lot of succulents with your coffee I know the place to go.

Cactus is a cool but dry place (just a little cactus humor there). The southwestern decor fits nicely with their Cafe de Olla (traditional Mexican coffee with lots of cinnamon and other spices) and their Cafe de Leche. It’s a neighborhood joint too where people hang, have serious conversations and eavesdrop on said conversations. Man the gossip one hears while playing a game of gin with your wife which, by the way, I let her win.

They got jarritos, topo chico and several other Hispanic drinks not yet available at Starbucks. Empanadas too. Staff is nice and afterwards you can walk around the block a couple of times while your wife shops at the thrift store next door.

Casa Cactus is located at 4595 North Elston.

To answer my friend Marie, yes we got home safely from our trip. Marie probably knew the answer though since she did ask me in person.

What is it like to sleep onboard Amtrak? It’s not great. Per Corey the top bunk is incredibly firm even with the thin mattress. Below is not as bad, but the rocking kept me up most of the night. We both did catch a few hours of sleep though along with a quick post breakfast nap.

The bed also comes with meals served by a waitress in the dining car. You make reservations and then are often seated with another couple. For our last dinner we met a funeral home director. His business is cash only as he does not want people spending beyond their means. He also stated that his business was booming during the pandemic. That it was in fact the busiest he had ever been.

The train pulled into Union Station at 4:12. Somehow we made the 4:30 Metra back to our Edison Park home. A little after five we were feeding the cats and unpacking. It was a good ride home and an amazing week spent with my best friend. Happy late Easter and early Passover!

Back to ABQ and it was bright sunshine, mid sixties. We stayed at the El Vado which describes itself as a boutique motel. It was a one floor motel with doors facing a courtyard. Lobby was a hip bar that hosted a pop-up comedy show which we were lucky to catch the end of. A few doors down was their sister motel which boasted a hip cocktail lounge. I was there less than ten minutes before I broke a coffee mug.

El Vado and the Monterey Motel

Back on the train now. We are moving but at a walking pace and I’m not sure why. Like with every long distance train we have been on, present are several Amish families. Playing   cards I caught one such family staring at me while I shuffled. Speaking Pennsylvania Dutch (which to my ear sounds almost Gaelic) they occasionally pointed at me while laughing. Were they in awe of my shuffling skills? Or maybe my loud shuffling was just a bit too much for them. I wanted to do my best Joe Pesci impression (What, am I clown, do I amuse you?) but thought it would go over their heads.

In the few days we have been in New Mexico I have had red chili with beans, green chili quiche, green chili cheese fries (yum), green chili with slow cooked brisket (from the Mine Shaft in Madrid, oh so good) and red/green chili (or Christmas style as they call it here) with ground beef. The last one was overpriced (it was served just a few feet away from the Santa Fe Plaza) but worth every penny. And while Corey says this is really nothing to brag about, I disagree. It took commitment, time and a stomach I honestly did not know I had.

Santa Fe is about ten miles but also about ten degrees cooler from where we are staying. In the not so big city it was winter with that weird high desert snow that looks like tiny styrofoam balls blowing around. Back in our little Casita though, we laid about in the strong sun and pretended it wasn’t still in the forties. Everything slowed down here to the point we would not mind just a few more days of sloth. But all good things must come to an end. We are packed, ready to return to Albuquerque and then our train home.

An unfortunate toilet incident at our Airbnb left us scrambling for early morning coffee and a place to, um, gather our thoughts. Luckily we stumbled upon this very delightful coffee shop just at the edge of the Old Town square. Incredibly cramped inside, they had the most delightful southwest style courtyard where Corey and I tilted our chairs to catch the rising sun. Vacation problems are not the same as real life problems.

One more thing. Seated at the counter inside the coffee shop was a man with the aura of a coffee shop owner. He was there when the shop opened and would periodically help the one employee (a stylish twenty something year old). Between orders they carried on a pleasant back and forth conversation. He did not actually own the shop. Turns out he is a plumber who often rearranges his work schedule so that he can have coffee with his daughter.

Later that morning we were picked up by the kind folks at Enterprise who also kindly left behind a random iPhone which we answered then returned a few minutes after leaving their office. Spent the remainder of the day at Petroglyph National Monument which is a collection of several sights sprinkled about within an otherwise unremarkable area of typical urban sprawl. You look down to see a thousand year old rock drawing then up to see a Walgreens sign.

Lunched at a quaint little local eatery called Jimmy Johns. If you ever find yourself there I highly recommend the roast beef sandwich paired with vinegar chips. Afterwards Corey and I took the scenic route into Santa Fe which involved us repeatedly getting on and off the interstate before Google maps realized we were serious about adding an extra ten minutes to our travel. Somewhere within that process white styrofoam (maybe snow?) began pelting our car. Eventually we hit the Turquoise Trail and then almost immediately came across Cabra Coffee.

There is no better place to watch blowing styrofoam than inside a snug coffee shop. Outside were desert and mountains. Inside were yummy pastries and a darn good latte. Refreshed we set off in search of adventure and a working toilet.

Albuquerque. Or ABQ as the cool kids call it. It’s a bit scruffy around the edges. Takes a little while to settle into it but then you find yourself immersed by this cool southwest vibe which reminds me of Phoenix, Arizona back in the 40’s. How do I know what Phoenix felt like in the 1940s? I don’t. Just seemed like the thing to write.

What we did for our one full day in ABQ was walk from our Airbnb in Old Town to the ABQ BioPark down to the river and then back to the Airbnb for a soak in the hot tub. Later Corey discovered our hostess was Swedish/Norwegian and they talked for almost an hour. Being a tourist is a lot more fun than being at work.

Within the vast labyrinth of my memories there exists a few places I like to linger. One is me visiting my Grandpa downtown where he managed Karoll’s Men’s Shop in the old Reliance Building. This was in the 1980s when Marshall Field’s (the grand building across the street) still anchored the Loop. Karoll’s was old school too with lots of service which meant a world of fascinating people.  Like the old tailor, who was the kind of old they don’t make anymore. He seemed to come with the building. Once he showed me a calculator magic trick. Looking back I got to say that calculator magic has to be the least impressive of all the magic genres. His assistant manager was a former prize fighter who preferred the Sox over the Cubs. So the deal was that whichever team played during the day would be the game played over the store speakers. This was the 1980s; my grandpa knew what he was doing. He had stories about the place too. One was that the Orthodox engineer programmed the lights to go off at sunset and that no one knew how to change it back. Not sure how true that story is but it is the kind of story worth telling every couple of decades.

On December 22, 2000 I proposed to Corey at the Burnham Hotel. I did not know it then but it was on her father’s birthday. And the day after my mom told me the Burnham Hotel was located in the Reliance Building. The Atwood Cafe sits where my Grandpa used to fuss over customers.

So now and then Corey and I come back. Once with Henna. She was a baby and we caught Poi Dog Pondering at the bandshell the next day. Henna danced her little booty off. A few times after that, on our 20th anniversary and then again last night. The hotel is now, gulp, the Stay Pineapple. But to me it’s always going to be the place where my Grandpa worked when I was a little kid, the base from which we saw the city Christmas lights and where Corey said yes and made me (still makes me) a better man.

Hopped a train to St. Paul and a mere eight hours later were snug at our favorite Twin Cities Airbnb. We hung out with Henna of course, but managed also to squeeze in a bit of sightseeing that led us to this really cool coffee house just a few blocks from St. Paul Cathedral.

We love St. Paul. We love the leafy streets, the Minnesota nice vibe and the repurposed buildings. In the latter category sits Nina’s which is situated in a grand old majestic building (sorry, I kind of tried to find out some info about the building but my heart just wasn’t into it; it might once have been a brothel but I’m not sure).

I had a cortado. Never heard of a cortado until starting these chronicles but they are delicious. Corey went with a cappuccino. They say that a man/woman’s drink says a lot about a person. Who says that? I say that.

Now we are back on the train headed south. Seated behind us is a family speaking in a deep Fargo-like accent. Their conversation drifts a bit toward the tragic side of life. For example there was this sixty year old man who suddenly died on his flight to Germany (“Poisoned I betcha”). Ten minutes in they are amusing. But it’s a long ride back to Chicago.