Zoe tries to kill me

We have discovered that it’s a lot easier to get everyone moving in the morning when the lodge offers an extensive breakfast buffet. Between that and the sun shining in through the windows of our east-facing cabin, we got off to a pretty early start. (Spoiler alert: it was not as early as we thought. Details in a future entry.)

So many rocks to climb.

After fortifying ourselves with enormous breakfasts, we headed back into Zion. It was just as amazing as we’d heard. Every bend in the road reveals a new breathtaking vista, so after a while you just get saturated with the beauty. Fortunately there’s a park shuttle, which goes to nine popular hiking spots, so we could look out the windows with abandon.

The vast majority of this hike had no guardrail.

These switchbacks are called “Walter’s Wiggles”.

Our first destination was Angels Landing, because Zoe apparently has a death wish and wants to take her parents out with her. Only the last part of Angels Landing is truly terrifying, so the whole group of us headed off to hike the first two miles. It climbed steeply up to the top of the canyon through a series of switchbacks and awe-inspiring views. Lucky for us it’s only in the high fifties here, so we weren’t sweating too much (except for Bob and Nadia, who were sweating with nervousness over the sheer drop that we had on one side of us).

The final mile of the trail is along a knife-edge ledge, with steep ascents and descents and a chain drilled into the rock to hold onto in most areas. Bob was bravely planning to accompany Zoe, but was clearly suffering after the first few

Proof that Bob gave it a try

feet, so I offered to take over.

The most frustrating thing about the trail was that you’d be climbing up to the top of a hill, thinking you were done — only to see further undulations stretching out ahead. My strategy was to maintain a death grip on the chain and stare at my feet. This worked reasonably well except when there were people coming from the opposite direction who were trying to follow the same strategy.

Eventually we labored to the top, at the end of the ledge, with spectacular views of the canyon stretching on all sides, and the road and river tiny ribbons far, far below. We stood a few seconds, breathing in the thrill of victory.

That knife edge ahead of Zoe is the trail we’re following.

I was not looking forward to the descent, but was feeling pretty good about having made it.

Then it started to hail.

Seriously. The skies darkened, and fearing rain, I told Zoe we should start down right away. The wind picked up. Then flurries of white specs appeared in the air. I think I said something like, “You have GOT to be kidding me,” maybe with a few expletives thrown in. And we were still passing people going UP. Call me crazy, but when ice starts to fall from the sky I think it’s time to call an about-face.

Luckily, the weather here is even more changeable as it is in New England, and it wasn’t too long before the storm passed and the sun was shining again. We made it back to the regular trail without incident. Bob, Nadia, and Lanie had been waiting for us there, but gave up and headed down once the hail began.

On the plus side, the trail down seemed like nothing after that. Zoe and I walked along side by side, carefree and nonchalant. (In contrast, Bob told me he’d been nervous enough on the descent that he made the other two keep one hand on the canyon wall the whole time.)

And this was just the morning! Tales and photos of our afternoon to come in a future installment.

Two from the bucket list

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We try to make every vacation day a special day, and generally we’re pretty successful at that. But today was one that exceeds even our normal standards of special: I think it was the first time ever that we’ve been able to cross two things off the 500 Places to Take Your Kids Before They Grow Up list. Two out of 500: that’s .004 percent of the entire list.

Who would believe that there are two places in the 500 Places list between Las Vegas and Zion Canyon? What’s more, none of the 500 are from Vegas or Zion. I mean, c’mon. Did you see that M&M wall? Seems strange that Mr. Fodor, or whoever wrote that book left that out.

But it does contain a visit to Hoover Dam, quite a wall in its own right, and our first stop today. No, it’s not made of M&Ms, or any other kind of candy. Yes, it does have a pretty good snack bar — the chicken avocado sandwich, today’s special of the day, was particularly impressive. Oh, and we did the Power Plant tour (which contained only one dam joke) and walked across the top of the dam into Arizona. Some people noticed Nadia’s UNH t-shirt and talked to us. They are from Barrington and have a daughter in Zoe’s school.

Terrific, fine. Cross it off the list.

Our next stop was in the Valley of Fire State Park, which seems an interesting inclusion to the 500 Places list, given that none of the nearby national parks are listed. Then again, it only costs $10 to get in and there are lots of cool petroglyphs and even more huge red rock formations all over the place. Not bad for somewhere we never heard of and would have totally driven right past if it weren’t for the book.

The highlight of this visit was spotting the heard of bighorn sheep on a hilltop about 500 yards from us. The petroglyphs were cool, too.

Check another one off the list. Some of these things we had to travel all the way to South America for, and here were two on the way between points A and B.

We eventually did make it to point B after a singularly interesting drive through Zion Canyon National Park. After about 20 switchbacks, the road goes right through a mountain. The tunnel is more than a mile long! The only thing that would make it better is if it were on the list.
Happily, we made it to our new accommodations — the ranch cabin we’ll be occupying for the next three nights — before the resaurant closed.

Approaching the Zion tunnel

We survive Sin City with our virtue intact

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We tend to find, on vacations, that everyone in the family has somewhat different priorities on where we should spend our time. Fortunately, Las Vegas caters to all tastes.

Of all of us today, Zoe had the worst luck. Her main focus was going on thrill rides. We’d told her about the New York New York roller coaster and the rides on top of the Stratosphere (which Bob refused to go within a quarter-mile of when we were here long ago). Alas, we kept an eye out all day and did not see any coaster running at NY NY. Despite walking our feet off all day, we didn’t quite make it all the way up to the Stratosphere way in the north of the strip. But Zoe is patient and we have promised to return next Saturday, before we fly out. And luckily, she also likes dolphins, which we saw in large numbers at Siegfried & Roy’s Secret Garden behind the Mirage.

Ceiling at the Forum Shops

Nadia had much better luck, given that her primary interests were Starbucks and gelato. There is a Starbucks approximately every quarter-mile here (that probably isn’t even an exaggeration), and all of them have long lines. She was also a big fan of the Forum Shops mall. And although our main purpose going in was visiting a Starbucks for Nadia, we all thought the mall was pretty cool. It had extremely elaborate “Italian” architecture, and a cloud-painted ceiling with lighting made to look like you’re strolling down a street in Rome at dusk. Plus, curved escalators! (There are a LOT of escalators here too.)

Sunset in Little Italy? No, just the Forum Shops at 10am.

Lanie was content just to take pictures of everything we saw. In the elaborate and beautiful conservatory within the Bellagio, I had to stop her from individually photographing each flower. She was also thrilled that we got back to our condo just in time to take a quick dip before the 9:30pm closing time at the pool.

Gelato!

Beyond that, there were several attractions that all of us enjoyed. When paying the (rather exorbitant) entrance fee to the Secret Garden, we discovered we could buy a three-attraction pass for $57 — a tempting deal since individual attractions mostly cost around $30. So we sprung for the pass and elected to try the “CSI” attraction where you study forensic clues and try to solve a crime. A good time was had by all and we figured out the solution even before the clues made it totally obvious.

The four-storey M&M store also provided a fun diversion. At the picture below, you can see Nadia and Lanie struggling to figure out which of the countless flavors and colors to choose. We ended up sampling Pecan Pie, Holiday Mint, Vanilla Cupcake, Cherry, and Pretzel, among others.

Living painting at the Bellagio

We caught the fountain show at the Bellagio, and strolled through a simulated St. Mark’s Square and Doge’s Palace at the Venetian (where we recognized some details from our trip to Real Venice a few year’s back). We saw real flamingoes, and a black swan, at the Flamingo. When no one could agree on what they wanted for dinner, we found The Yard House, which served Mexican, pizza, burgers, sandwiches, AND pasta. The girls bought post-dinner gelato and ice cream, even though we were all stuffed — which meant Bob and I got plenty of leftovers.

But the definite highlight of the day was at the end — the Cirque du Soleil Mystere show. A kind usher upgraded our high-up seats to 8th row,
where performers soared over our heads and ran through the aisle behind and next to us. (Bob got to reveal one of his special talents before the show, when one of the performers was throwing popcorn for guests to catch in their mouths and he was the only one to manage it on the first try.) The show was amazing and also very funny, and we all highly recommend it.

Let the good times roll

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The blog is back to tell you that at least some of what happens in Vegas will be shared on the internet.

For instance, after a pleasantly uneventful flight (thanks, Spirit Air!) we saw lots of slot machines in the airport. We also kind of got lost on the way to our condo. (The streets of Sin City apparently have been altered slightly since our GPS was programmed, circa 2008.)

This morning we found that our condo has lovely roses and even a mango tree. There are a few pools, too, but we might not be able to experience them because there’s so much to do in the one day we have on the Strip.
The culminating event will be an evening performance of Mystere, byt Cirque de Soleil (http://www.treasureisland.com/shows/2/mystere-by-cirque-du-soleil?. Before then, it’s a day of adventure, including the girls’ first credit cards, by which we will strive to keep track of what they spend while we’re here.

This is what democracy looks like

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Sometimes democracy looks like a long line of people waiting for an overflowing porta-potty.

When we went to vote on November 8 (yes, Mr. President, we did in fact vote), my husband and I dragged our daughters out of bed and to the polls with us. We even pulled them into the voting booth. We told them they were witnessing history as we filled in the oval for our first female president.

Like much of the country, we were stunned and crushed as the results rolled in. Not because a woman lost. But because the man who won was an openly racist, sexist bully. A man whose main goal in life, besides enriching himself, was seemingly to find people who had so very little, and convince them that their enemy was others who had even less. A man whose go-to response for any provocation, however, slight, was to behave in a way that most of us wouldn’t have tolerated in our toddlers. The people telling us to give him a chance had missed the point. Regardless of his future actions, the fact that a person could be elected in spite of this behavior — or, worse yet, because of it — made us realize we didn’t live in the kind of world that we’d thought we had.

Ready for the road

So we decided to march, and witness a different kind of history. To show the world, and ourselves, and our children, that we are not alone, but part of an army.

It wasn’t the easiest trip. We drove late into the night through remote parts of Pennsylvania (having chosen an alternate longer route to avoid traffic in the major cities on the coast). It was raining and foggy, and everything was complicated by trying to drive two minivans in caravan. After arrival, Wendy and I had to go out again to attempt to secure Metro cards. We are two of the most directionally-challenged people on the planet, and Wendy’s cell phone that provided navigation was about to die, and the first station we went to had no clear place to park and then turned out to be closed. By the time we got back (victorious!) it was near to 1am.

Tyra and Riley even managed to bring posters on the bus ride!

We shouldn’t complain, though, because our friend Tyra and her daughter Riley had to take a 12-hour bus ride up from Georgia. The bus left an hour and a half late, and then they had to catch the Metro from DC to Bethesda, and then they WALKED a mile and a half, at midnight, carrying all their stuff, to the house.

But these are not the things we’ll remember. By now just about everyone has heard what the march was like — the crowds, the love and solidarity, the energy and inspiring speeches and funny signs. So here are a few other things that will stay with me.

It’s the bond with my long-time mom friends — Wendy, Judy, Tyra, and Susan. We realized that we’d all met in a class about sustainable parenting back when our kids were babies and toddlers. How great it is that we’re all still working together for the same cause, more than 10 years later, and that some of those same kids are now engaged young adults who are marching by our sides.

And those same kids, who were up past midnight, and smiling and ready to go by 7am. They stood in crowds and cold through several hours of speeches, with nothing but granola bars to sustain them, all without a word of complaint.

It’s Wendy’s eighteen-year-old son Sam, who voted for the first time this year — and chose to give up his weekend to join a group of ten women and girls, marching through DC in his pink hat and being helpful to everyone. And his friend Haley, who jumped in a van with a bunch of people she’d never met because she wanted so much to make her voice heard.

It’s those who made the trip possible even though they didn’t attend themselves. My generous friend Kathleen and her family, who opened their lovely home to a bunch of people who were mostly strangers. Our friend Heather, who made us hats. Our husbands, who held down the fort at home and welcomed us warmly on our return.

It’s the woman working in the Grosvenor metro station the night before the march. She’d probably had a very long day, dealing with scores of out-of-towners who didn’t know what they were doing. She can’t have been too excited to see two people jump out of a car with NH license plates past midnight and run toward the ticket machine, with confused expressions and several half-used Metro cards clutched in our hands. But she greeted us with a smile and walked us through our lengthy transaction with cheerfulness and patience. And then she turned around and did the same thing for the two people who rushed in five minutes after we did.

It’s her co-workers who were on duty the night of the march, greeting train after crowded train with claps and shouts of “thank you!” as throngs of marchers streamed out onto the platform.

It’s the other marchers on that train, which was the most crowded place I’ve ever been in my life. Instead of glaring and grumbling, people chatted and helped each other. When someone left the train, the entire car gave them a big cheer like they were a rock star leaving the stage after a concert.

And the woman restocking the restroom in a highway rest area the day after the march. The whole rest area was overwhelmed with marchers, and probably had been since early that morning. She undoubtedly had had a tough day — but she smiled and chatted and cheered with the long line of women waiting for an open stall.

Even those crowds and long lines, in the streets and in the subway and at the rest stop. Those things meant that the march was a tremendous success, and that was more important than a little delay or discomfort.

And most of all: it’s the fact that it was totally unspoiled by conflict.

Think about that. Over half a million people crammed into a few city blocks. Women and men, eighty-year-olds and college students, rich and poor, black and brown and white, gay and straight, urbanites and farmers — all wedged together in a giant mass of humanity. We were sleep-deprived and travel-weary, hungry and cold, footsore, dehydrated and desperately needing to pee. And yet there was not a single violent incident or arrest.

Instead, there were people looking out for each other. Yelling back to the people behind them to tell them a step was approaching. Climbing a tree so as to direct people around a low fence that was impeding progress to the street. Supporting those who stumbled and helping those who needed a leg up. Swapping stories and smiles and Metro maps. And knowing without a doubt that they will not be fighting alone.

Swimming along

The best building (and landlord) in Quito

Derailed and all shook up

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Our last couple of days in Quito did not lack for excitement.

Violin with a view

Things started out pretty low-key. On Sundays, one of the main avenues through the city — that passes by the park right outside our apartment — closes to traffic and is taken over by bikes. Our plan was to rent bikes then bike into the Old City (several kilometers away), which is also closed to cars.

Alas, we were foiled by Lanie’s diminutive stature. The first bike rental place we found didn’t have a small enough bike. They attempted to make a larger one fit by lowering the seat all the way, but this proved rather disastrous when Lanie took it for a trial run and, out of her depth trying to control it, immediately almost took out another biker. We quickly said our no, graciases and our lo sientos and bolted out of there. We thought there would be more options, so we walked…and walked…and walked…and didn’t find anything.

Fruit in the park

At this point, I should say that Zoe, usually our most intrepid hiker, was lagging further and further behind. Zoe is joining the high school cross-country team next year, and is expected to run 5-6 days a week all summer, traveling or no traveling. But our daily runs in Quito (elevation 9350 feet) had done a number on her.

Eventually we reached another park. It did, in fact, have many bikes for rent, but at this point we’d rather lost our appetite for it. So we contented ourselves with lounging around for a while, reading, people-watching, trying out various playground equipment (in Lanie’s case), and eating random food from the abundant food carts. The park was full of people enjoying

Sausages in the park

their weekend, with pickup soccer games and bike-riding families everywhere.

Cool water feature in the park. People of all ages were giggling and running through.

I should add a word about Quito’s parks. We’ve been so impressed with the amount that the city has clearly invested in becoming a healthy and livable place for its populace. The park by our apartment, Parque La Carolina, was huge and filled with attractions. Along with the usual paths, fields, and trees, there was an elaborate botanical garden and “serpentarium” (which Nadia refused to enter). There was a winding lake with islands, bridges, and paddleboats. There was a brand new one-kilometer synthetic track, the center of which was filled with athletic fields and courts as well as a set of metal non-electric exercise equipment. There were extensive networks of well-paved bike paths, as well as a bike terrain park and a huge skateboard park. There were any number of playgrounds, which brought delight to Lanie’s heart. (She was most excited about the attraction pictured below, which we thought would be a kind of trampoline but which in fact she landed in with a bit of a thud. Someone quickly appeared and told us it was

This is the sort of play structure you don’t find in a country with strict liability laws.

for ages 4 and under only, so she only got the one crack at it.) The paths were lined with carts selling about anything you could want — fresh fruit and ice cream and sausages and a pile of cotton candy almost bigger than Lanie. Everything was clean and well-maintained, and the locals made great use of it. I’ve never seen so many runners and bikers as I did on a weekend morning in Parque La Carolina.

Eventually we decided the

prudent course was a cab back to our park, and an afternoon relaxing there and in our apartment. We had dinner at the local pizzeria, and thought we’d have a nice calm movie night followed by an early bedtime.

Botanical garden in the park

We were watching National Treasure 2. If you are not familiar with this franchise, it is basically a PG-rated Da Vinci Code. The end was very exciting, with the characters trapped in a cave that was collapsing. Boulders were falling everywhere, water was pouring in, and crashes sounded from the television. Also, the whole building was shaking! Wait, why is the building shaking??

Bob and I quietly debated this for a bit. Our apartment was on the 10th floor. Was it possible that the effect was due to high winds? It seemed to stop for a bit, then started up again. When I noticed the picture frame on the wall rocking back and forth, I decided to check in with our landlord. Lo and behold, we had just experienced an earthquake.

We also worked in a little dessert from a nearby bakery.

On his advice, we went downstairs and out to the park to mill around with various other building and neighborhood residents, not quite sure what we were doing or how long we should do it for. Eventually, people started drifting in so we followed along. Not quite the restful night we had planned, but it certainly could have been worse.

Mitad del Mundo

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When we went to the Mitad del Mundo, there were two different museums:
The first one we went to, we had a tour group and our guide told us about different Indian tribes. We got to go into little huts like the ones they live in and talk about the tribes. All these tribes still live in Ecuador in the jungle. Later we saw a pen full of guinea pigs.
Then we went to the place where they measured by GPS to be the Equator. We got to stand on two different sides. One foot was in the Northern Hemisphere and one foot was in the Southern Hemisphere.
We did a bunch of cool science experiments. I balanced an egg on a nail. Our guide poured water in a sink on the equator and the leaves in the water didn’t turn in any direction, they just went straight down. We had to walk along the Equator with our eyes closed — it was hard to do because it felt like I was going to fall over. When Dad wasn’t standing on the line the guide had trouble pulling Dad’s arms down; when Dad was standing on the Equator, she could push his hands down really easily.
At the end anyone who brought their passport could get a special stamp, and Nadia and I got a certificate for balancing an egg on a nail.
The second museum was bigger. There was a monument that was a big ball on a pedestal and we got to climb up in the pedestal and look around. We saw a lot of old-fashioned cars. There were a lot of mountains all around us and some were covered with snow.
As we went back down, there were lots of exhibits on the levels. Some were about building the monument, some were about the Indian tribes and some were about science.
After the monument we went to the Plaza de Chocolate where there was a chocolate museum and we got to taste cacao beans right out of the pod and also samples of freshly-made chocolate.
Next we went to a planetarium show. The pictures were really cool, but you couldn’t understand much because all the words were in Spanish.
Before we left, we found a playground. Zoe, Nadia and I went on this big swing merry-go-round.

Editor’s note: Mitad del Mundo means “half or middle of the Earth.” It’s one way to refer to the Equator. In the late 1700s, a geological survey team determinted the location of the Equator in the hills around Quito. In the late ’70s the Ecuadoran Government decided to turn the site into a tourist attraction, which is now known at Mitad del Mundo City. About an hour drive from downtown Quito, it is pretty extensive, with restaurants, hotels, a bullfighting ring, and different pavilions dedicated to the history and science of the original geological expedition, as well as the monument/science museum, planetarium, Plaza de Chocolate, and playgrounds that Lanie described.
In the intervening years since they started developing Mitad del Mundo City, GPS technology has determined that the actual Equator is located a few hundred meters north of the monument erected by the government. Hence, the two museums. The new museum is privately owned and surprisingly more rustic than the old museum, which enjoys a lot of funding from the government (new features, like a train connecting it with Quito, are apparently on the way).

Since just about all of the equator lies at or near sea level, the Mitad del Mundo is as unique experience as many of the ones we had on the Galapagos. We were able to see a white-topped volcano that is the only snow-covered area in the world that lies along the equator.

Also, we seemed to have arrived at Mitad del Mundo City during a Volkswagen convention. There was a circle of old Beetles, Camper Vans, and others surrounding the main monument and a lot of general hoopla. This is why Lanie said we could see a lot of old cars from the top.

My comeuppance

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There’s the tall statue way up on the hill.

Apparently, I did not write enough about the volcano the other day, and I suspect to make up for it today I was made to climb up in a tall statue at the top of a high hill. I had to pay money to do this.

A taxi driver brought us up the high hill. There was a long stairway that we could have climbed, but we read that the stairway leads through a dicey neighborhood. From the base of the hill, it didn’t look dicey. It looked open and bright, but our taxi driver confirmed that it was “muy peligroso” to walk those stairs, and he brushed off the idea that we might walk down the stairs back to the Old City when we were done with the big statue. Instead, he waited for us while we climbed around like little ants on a baby carrot sticking out of a watermelon, and then he drove us back down.

Even though we only walked to the top of base of El Panecillo, it was still a little high for me. Safe, though. Very safe at the top.

View from the top of the hill: Old City is in the forefront, more modern Quito (where our apartment is) is in the distance.

I know what you’re thinking. Of course he’s going to tell us the we need him to shuttle us up and down the hill because he’s going to make more money. He could have easily made up that story about the two “Norte Americana turistas” who just last week decided to climb down that very stairway only to have ruffians take their camera by force. As we drove up the hill he cast significant glances at me every time we passed someone by the side of the road as if to say: “You really want to walk up those stairs with THAT guy loitering around?” Every person we passed he looked at me like that.

None of them looked that bad to me, but it turned out all right. At that point, anyway, I was tired and cranky after an over-long effort to find the oldest ice cream shop in Quito and the ineffectiveness of any tourist map to show where Guyaquil Street is. Those quaint streets in Quito’s Old City are best for walking singly or in pairs, not for a party of five. The sidewalks are narrow and you think that the dotted line drawn a little ways into the street is a demarcation line that allows for extra pedestrian traffic. Then a bus comes by and you realize that the dotted line is where the bus’ tire goes and if you’re on that line you’re going to get run over. Even if you’re inside the line, even if you’re mostly on the sidewalk, you can still get whacked by the bus. It’s a very tight situation. There’s a lot of people walking around in the Old City.

Inside this church, it’s super golden.

But we found the ice cream shop (established 1858) and we also got a huge hunk of watermelon for fifty cents and it was so good we bought another. Even better than that, if you can believe anything’s better than that, is when we were visiting La Iglesia de La Compania de Jesus, it sounded like they had their classical music Pandora station blasting, but what it really was was the National Symphony of Ecuador practicing for a performance tonight. It was excellent.

History and frozen confection mix.

Those guys are good; and the church was beautiful. You can find it by googling “Church in Quito filled with gold.” (They would not allow us to take pictures on the inside, sorry.) The performance is tonight and it’s free, but I don’t want to go back down there with those buses.

Actually, I think I’m overstating the bus danger. Remember, though, we’re just spent two weeks in a place where some of the roads were dominated by giant tortoises. Quito is a very different, and truly excellent contrast. For one thing, it should be known as the “City of 1,000 Vistas” because everywhere we go — including our apartment — has a different and spectacular view, usually from above. We haven’t even gone on the Teleferico yet. This is a gondola that will take us to the top of one of the surrounding mountains (and very possibly something I’ll interpret as a punishment for something else I’ve done to my family). This city is very close to many cool tourists sites — lakes and caves and villages — most of which we won’t have the time to see on this trip. Also, while we haven’t seen $7 dinners we have caught wind of $3 lunches with a similar three-course menu structure. Let me at them! It’s lively at night, although last night was more lively than tonight thanks to a big soccer match, and the food truck scene has been good enough to alleviate the pain of not having $7 dinners. We went back to the parking lot with the food trucks tonight for tacos, burgers, and pulled pork sandwiches.

Other highlights from today were walking past the Presidential Palace, which we could have visited but I didn’t bring our passports with us; seeing several other churches and monasteries; visiting Itchimbia Park, which is right across the valley from the tall statue but in a safe enough area that the taxi driver let us off no problem; and getting to talk with three different taxi drivers.

Hydrating in the park.

It was like trickle-down punishment: I had to go up in a high place, and three different taxi drivers had to suffer through conversations in Spanish with me.

I learned today that in the back seat the ladies listen to my conversations with the taxi drivers and pick up Spanish pointers, which is somewhat troublesome. I really mustn’t make a lot of sense to these guys, and I really don’t follow what they tell me very well, but they’re all very nice about it. Somehow today — probably completely against the flow of conversation — I used the word murcielago (bat, like the kind that flap around at night). I’m sure it took the driver by surprise — we were probably talking about global monetary policy or something — but in the back seat Zoe and Jen were impressed. Really, that’s all that matters.