As we drove into town we drove through the poorer neighborhoods of Albuquerque, vaguely reminiscent of the San Francisco Tenderloin District. We became more and more nervous as we drove into the roadside motel. Some of our concerns were eased as we parked next to a new Porsche with California license plates and we were put at almost complete calm after meeting the fabulous managers and their blind dog Gustav. The room was no doubt original, but clean and exactly reminiscent of the era we were hoping to find along Route 66.
At the suggestion of the managers we headed into Old Town to look for dinner. We were referred to the Church St. Café and it did not disappoint. We stuffed ourselves with Chili Rellanos, Enchiladas and local beers called Outlaw Lager and Monks Ale. Our waiter, Josh, was a friendly fellow of 6’4” who turned out to be our age. Having been born in Fresno and then moving to New Mexico, he immediately opened up when we told him we were from San Francisco. We chatted throughout the meal, as he constantly ran into things, remarking that these older Spanish style buildings were clearly not built for people of his size.
As we finished our meal, we began chatting with the only other people left at the restaurant, a German Couple, Christine and Wolfgang who now live in San Diego. They had done their own cross-country drive after moving from Germany to New Jersey and then to San Diego.
After dinner, Josh suggested we head over to the bar at the “Seasons” and took us up on our invitation to join us. Over drinks he told us about his lost career as a car salesman, the lack of available jobs in Albuquerque for a person with a finance degree and his love of all things Brett Farve. Meeting people in this manner is definitely one of the highlights of the trip as we feel constantly amazed by how such different people can end up in the same place at the same time.
Next up…the adventures of driving into Texas and walking 750 below ground
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