Along the Colorado, an hour or so north of Quartzsite, is the city of Lake Havasu, home to the London Bridge (yes, the British one).

“I seem to remember a story about this bridge,” I tell Ric.  “Something about how when they bought it they thought they were getting the Tower Bridge.”

The London bridge is a long expanse of bridge that we drove over twice before realizing it.  It’s that unremarkable, and yet, Lake Havasu has made the most of it, with signs announcing its presence and a whole resort built up around it.  Good for them.

The city, however, does not need a claim to fame:  it has water, and mountains, and screams:  I want to live here!  In fact, Ric asked me to look up the cost of real estate.

The first night we arrived, it was just before sunset and we were tired, but the drive up was spectacular so we decided to return.

“Let’s cruise along the California side,” Ric suggested.  “We can cross back over at Parker Damn, and then head up.”

So we took the long route, through a lot of very barren and desolate desert areas, until just before the damn, where we rejoined the Colorado river and the spectacular views.

Signs all along warned us about burros on the roadway and requested that we not feed them.  As promised, there they were, clearly begging for forbidden snacks.  Apparently people can’t read because these cute critters set up a greeting party in anticipation.

The colour of the Colorado river is shockingly blue.   Ric says it is because the source of the water is glacial.  I’ll have to trust him on that one.

Lake Havasu has a natural area, but it was further north, so we decided not to do it.  Instead we found a lovely rotary park and sat there with the ducks and the sounds of children playing around us and watched the sunset.

What a glorious day.

Oh, and we might have visited a Riparian bird sanctuary on the way too, but more about that tomorrow.

(Featured picture is a Lake Havasu City sunset.  First photo is the lake by day, followed by the view of the Colorado from Parker Damn.  The burros are self-explanatory, and the Buffleheads are swimming at the rotary park as the sun went down.)