Life Lesson #8 – No Room at the Inn

Today I learned that you should follow baseball if you want to get a room in Arizona.

It was late, and I had been driving for six hours. Keeping me going for the last 150 miles had been the promise of a hot shower and a warm bed in Wickenburg, Arizona.

I had made a conscious decision not to book accommodation in advance, because I wasn’t certain we would make it the whole way there in one leg. Travel advisors said we’d have no trouble finding a room even though it was Spring Break.

Apparently those travel advisors aren’t aware that most of the major league baseball teams are based in Phoenix, Arizona right now. Die hard baseball fans book out all the beds within 3 hours of Phoenix on game nights. Wickenburg is an hour outside Phoenix, and no prizes for guessing whether it was a game night or not.

We were informed of all this by the receptionist at the Wickenburg Inn – the third inn we had failed to get a room at. “If you don’t feel like drivin’ another two hours, I suggest you consider sleeping in your car. There’s a grassy patch behind the hotel where you can park up if you like”. What, no stable? “Oh, and did you hear we just bombed Libya?”

Welcome to Arizona.


Our rejection from every inn in town was somewhat less divine.

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