Snowflake, Arizona
As we faced a six-hour long drive upon exiting the desert, we figured we might just as well stop for some food in Phoenix, Arizona. A quick google search led us to a pizzeria called Pizza Bianco, which turned out to be located in a small brick building complete with its own valet service. We enjoyed a pizza Margarita, some grilled vegetables and a plate with cured meats and cheese, all very nice, but not the best pizza we’ve had. Kind of so-so, you know.
After walking around (briefly, it was way too hot! We basically walked around the corner looking for ice cream), we drove north through Tonto National Forest. Expecting a forest of regular trees where we could walk around in the shade, we were surprised that the forest almost exclusively contained huge, huge, huge cactuses. We’ve never seen or even imagined that many cactuses before, it was quite a sight.
Farther up north, the landscape changed to regular forest and we arrived late in the evening at our destination: Heritage Inn Bed & Breakfast. We were greeted by the Craig, who showed us around briefly in the house, which had an almost grandparents-like feel to it. Think lots of small trinkets on every surface, flower-patterned sheets, dark-colored wooden furniture, and even a railing to get in and out of the tub. They also had a big DVD collection, something we greatly appreciated, as we are both big movie-fans. Our room was small, or maybe it just seemed so, given the massive bed was taking up most of the space. It was so tall, that it even required a small stepping stool.
Next morning, Craig and his wife Joanne made breakfast that we had ordered the night before. We had the house specialty—Dutch babies! Spoiler alert: it’s not made of people. It’s actually a type of pancake that’s made in an oven and served warm with butter, lemon and powdered sugar. It’s delicious.
Apart from us, the only other people staying at the inn was a couple in their late 80’s. Funny enough, the woman had in fact been born in the same house way back when. We also learned that the name of the town, Snowflake, has the silliest origin. It was founded by two guys, a Mr. Snow, and a Mr. Flake. Easy.
We didn’t stay long after breakfast as we faced yet another five-hour drive ahead.
