The damper on the nice mood follows quickly: Mia has forgotten her glasses in the hotel room in Scottsdale - about 500 km away. We only treat anything. The phone call call is useless - the housekeeping is no longer available.
The morning at the Grand Canyon Village begins with breakfast canteen style, but here we meet an nice guy from Bavaria who provides us with useful information to other destinations, as his route is in the opposite direction.
Then again the way to the Grand Canyon - this time on the Western side and, happily, the view is now somewhat better. The canyon and I have become friends this morning, but not lovers anymore.
The road leads eastwards towards Page out of the national park, so we can see another three viewpoints. The sky is cloudless and again the 230 km in front of us are much more enjoyable and watchable than expected.
First we pass the beginnings of the Colorado Canyon. Deep, sudden cuts into a flat desert landscape, which look great primarily in the plan view from above. Here the edges gape not miles apart as in the Grand Canyon, but the earth looks like torn apart by an angry god.
But it gets even better. We drive on through barren Indian land and the already low afternoon sun illuminates the bizarre sandstone rocks in front of the deep blue sky. My wife shoots photo series from our moving car and both of us can hardly see enough of this play of colors.
Almost like in a script another damper has to come: Lisa loses a contact lens when we stop at another scenic view. Of course it can not be found despite a long search. Persistent sobbing follows. A real road movie lives but also by the changing of the scenes and we leave after a short, very spectacular rise through the sandstone chain. The color changes to frugal green, but we are already approaching our destination for today - Lake Powell. In our guide book it sounds nice - dam, water sports and a pretty view.
Sweaty as we are three of us - Lisa celebrates rather her misfortune - decide to drive to the lake. This turns out to be a fantastic combination of the bright red ocher cliffs, which win in the evening sun still in chroma, and harbingers of Monument Valley in impressive form mesas on the near horizon. Why you have to build a a thermal power plant close to this gorgeous scenery is known only to Americans. A lady nearby addressed by us only answers succinctly that they would probably have needed the water access. Nevertheless, we are both refreshed as deeply impressed by the spectacular scenery.
Hunger is turning up, and three of us - yes you have to enjoy your suffering completely - explore the culinary scene of Page. At the beginning there is Pizza Hut, then Kentucky Fried Chicken, Taco Bell, Burger King and a McDonalds a little further. That´s it. Restaurant, steak house? No such luck.
Taco Bell turns out to be quite edible, and we shock our junk food experienced daughter with inappropriate behavior. After all, we ask the employee for customer contact actually about the products. The question about a drink without sugar brings her quite out of context, then after a while water comes to her mind. This brings her even further into trouble, because we ask about the size of the bottle. After a few desparate seconds "normal" is the answer and thens she disappears flabbergasted backwards in order to show us a bottle. The question, what she would recommend for dessert, I spare all those present.
Mia explains to her old-fashioned parents, that in a junk-food restaurant you do not ask, you just order and if you do not know about products, you have to just try. In doubt I prefer to behave strangely.
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