Slowly, the faces of a king, a queen and multitudes of other spectators overtake my periphery cherubs shine down from a blue sky on the ceiling. When our guide opens the door, it takes a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the darkness from the glare of the Mojave. Conboy says “the most magical experience” he’s ever had was a night sitting out on the veranda when he could hear the herd’s hooves splashing in a pool across the road.Īfter a few minutes, I head over to the wooden front desk and pay $5 for a tour of Becket’s “magnum opus,” the Opera House. Back in the lobby, I look for the donation jar that Becket kept for the wild horses that make appearances throughout the year.
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