Bisbee
Took the back road to Sierra Vista . . . although several fires in the valley obscured much of the ‘Vista’ with smoke. Not much air movement so air quality can’t be great . . . and at the moment we appear to be heading straight for it! At the last minute the road veered away, but we could still see the thick smoke after arriving at Tangled Yarns farm . . . where they raise Angora rabbits and goats. Owner Julie had suggested we park the trailer and explore the quaint town of Bisbee as it’s not a place well suited to RVs. No-one was home when we arrived so we briefly introduced ourselves to the goats and their two guard dogs (they look like Pyrenean Mountain dogs – we’ll have to ask), before heading off.
Climbed steadily to 5000ft . . . there are actual green TREES . . . lovely to see again. Clumpy Yuccas tucked into the cracks and crevices, and loomed over by towering rosy-gold crags.
Rounding a curve, there in the valley below lay Bisbee . . . houses of every conceivable size, colour and design, built into and onto every available dip and hillside. Quite crazy and absolutely wonderful. Streets leading off at every angle – up, mostly. Reminded me so much of the town of Gibraltar. And here, mask-wearing was a requirement (yes!). Strolled past the tiny Brewery (but it was much too early to sample) . . . the imposing courthouse with signs banning guns/knives in both English and Spanish . . . impressive church with ingenious method of window washing . . a stop for coffee and pastries at the Bisbee Coffee Shop . . . along Main Street and the mining museum with it’s carts and engines on display outside. One in particular caught our eye . . . a two-holer sanitation cart . . . but look what’s immediately next to it – an explosives cart! What kind of diet did they have? Copper was a big thing here . . . the hillsides are the most incredible orange/red so probably iron as well. The street musicians were top notch.
But it’s the houses that really make this town stand out . . quite literally. Combinations of cerise and sky blue . . . yellow and lilac . . . turquoise so vivid it hurts the eyes. One house must have had a dozen leftover pots of paint because every window frame, eave, wall and downspout was a different colour. But then the locals got really creative. Walls made of rusty spades . . . birdhouse sky scrapers . . . gargoyles . . . one handrail leading down a steep stone staircase ended in an outstretched talon . . . another house was plastered with what appeared to be pilfered signs – from roadways and old businesses . . . but our favourite had to have been created by a plumber – every fence and gate was constructed with pipes, plumbing fixtures, elbows, taps and valves. All delightfully bonkers. This has to be my favourite place yet.
