After reading reports about snow storms in Texas, I googled the nearest Wal Mart, figuring Phoenix might be the last place to get tire chains being close to Flagstaff and other snowy places. We pulled into the parking lot where Donna opted to stay in the car and do her social media drill. I walked inside to find a super store, the likes of which can be imposing. I had no intention of wandering around, especially while on a road trip when I’m aware of how each minute is spent. “Automotive section?” I asked the kid that tried to roll a shopping cart at me. He pointed to the back corner of the store – the same location of the Automotive section at every Wal Mart in the free world. Once back there, I walked the aisles looking for chains, passing more clerks but never asking for their help. Finally I gave in. “Not here partner” the Phil Donahue look-alike told me. “Try Scottsdale or Happy Valley – they are farther north – closer to the mountains.” I figured these stores were way north, like at high elevations but when I checked the map I discovered they were only blocks north. Was he messing with me? I looked to heaven and figured this was Gods way of telling me I wouldn’t need chains.
On the topic of spiritual – we booked an Airbnb place to stay on our first-ever trip to Tucson. We got an entire two-bedroom home to ourselves – well almost all to ourselves, the living room was converted to a meditation room when the home became a Buddist temple. Owner Thomas met us at the curb and lead us through the enclosed front garden strung with twinkling lights and Tibetin prayer flags. 
At the front porch we removed our shoes. Thomas, an English professor at the local college, explained how spiritual leaders from around the world have stayed in the home while in town for lectures and such. 
The place had an immediate peaceful vibe and I wondered if the bottle of single malt in my bag would be appropriate here – until Thomas showed us the kitchen where I spotted a bottle of wine on the table. Spending the night in a Buddhist temple would be a first.
We had an enlightening discussion, then I asked Thomas were we could find a local restaurant with Food authentic to Tucson. He recommended a place called La Indita on 4th ] which specializes in Mexican and Native foods. 
We drove into town just as the sun was setting so Donna could power shoot some sites before dinner. With it’s handful of high-rises Tucson reminded me of San Antonio or Sacramento – small enough to be personal, yet big enough to experience a city buzz. We were delighted to find La Indita along a row of quaint shops in an older part of town. The family owned place had a friendly atmosphere. Our eyes scanned the menu for anything unfamllair. We started with an order of fry bread which tasted freshly fried. 
For dinner 
Donna opted for a Tarascan Taco – a corn tortilla folded in half. She had hers stuffed with Calabasitas (sautéed squash and other local veggies). She also got an eggplant enchilada – both unique and delicious. I got a flat enchilada covered in fermented vegetables and a Chalupa – picture a Mexican sopa but fried. Mine was covered with a sautéed mushroom and vegetable filling.
Maria Garcia, matriarch and founder of the place grew up in Michoacan where vegetables are plenty so the locals eat accordingly and this is the inspiration for the menu.
We are finding AirBnB and other non-conventional travel methods are enhancing our experience. Had we rented a hotel we wouldn’t have met Thomas and I would not have learned about his spirituality or seen his special abode. We probably would have missed this great restaurant. It takes some getting used to – staying in another persons home, yet in many ways it feels more natural and true to travel.
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