Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Tuesday night in Denver, Colorado

John Denver once sang a song about Toledo, Ohio, In which one of the lyrics was, "they roll back the sidewalks precisely at 10..."

Ironically, I could say the same thing about Denver. The city, not the singer.

Only I'd have to replace the 10 with a 7.

During dull moments in the conference today, I passed my time searching for things in Denver that someone like me (someone with no vices, who would rather wander around a city alone than go to a party with an open bar) could do after 6:00. I was so desperate that I even "asked Denver" on Twitter, when I have an admitted aversion to using Twitter to communicate. Denver didn't reply.

For lack of any better suggestions, I made a beeline for the shopping district, which I figured could keep me occupied for at least one evening. On the map for the Free Mall Shuttle (which is a true piece of public transportation genius, running trolley-like buses up and down the street at what seemed to be two minute intervals!) I saw that there was a river to the north.

Denver is a city best known for its outdoor entertainments, so -- even though those entertainments usually consist of something much more adventurous such as skiing -- I decided I would make do with what I had and go see the natural wonders of downtown.

And since my airport adventures yesterday had set a standard for public humiliation, I also decided I would leave my pride on the bus and play the part of the crazy tourist/photographer, lugging around two huge sacks of stuff, sitting on rocks in the middle of a stream to get the perfect shot of the water running over the rocks (I didn't get it), and leaning over the edge of a bridge for far too long taking shot after shot of a duck, hoping that in one, its head would not be in the water. Alas. that was not to be, either.

Following the photographic tour de something, I returned to the shopping area for dinner and shopping. Unfortunately, by the time I was done with my macaroni and cheese at the Cheesecake Factory at around 7 (I know, you'd think in a new place, I'd want to branch out and try something local, but when you have eating habits like mine, it's best to just stick with what you know), all the stores were closed. I guess they didn't hear that stores are supposed to always stay open until nine.

So I returned to my suite at the ripe old hour of 7:30, to while away the evening blogging, searching for something more gratifying to do with my evening tomorrow, and possibly topping it off with tv. I do have to say that i had been a bit disappointed that our luxury hotel lacked a gym, but with all the walking I did today, I don't think I need one. And at no point did I get any more breathless in the alleged thin air of the Mile High City than I do anywhere else. Except that one time on the stairs in the convention center, which I attribute more to malnourishment than poor respiration--the last few days, I've had the stomach capacity of a hamster.

One last point. I've learned that typing on my iPad results in a lot fewer mistakes if I just use two fingers rather than my whole hand, so it's back to hunt and peck for me!


Geoff said...

Denver sucks!

The Broncos suck!

Valerie, you don't suck. So don't bring any suckiness back east.