While I have had plenty to say about Utah’s parks on Passenger Conners in the recent past, I’ve had remarkably little to note about the town I called home for 3 weeks, St. George, Utah.
After telling strangers and friends I’d be living there for a spell, the most common question I’ve gotten is, “Are you Mormon?”
Like many Utah communities, the town’s history is deeply rooted in the Mormon faith. But no, I’m not a Mormon and I simply chose St. George for the sake of convenience. The town is well-situated for travel into parks like Zion, Bryce and Capital Reef, and is also a decent size, with the shops, restaurants and amenities of a larger town.
I know, I know — that sounded like a cheesy St. George CVB ad, didn’t it? I think what I really want to say, from my heart, is that St. George has been one of the more precious towns I’ve had the fortune to get to know.
This is the living Norman Rockwell painting of the West, folks. There are quite literally white picket fences everywhere, super attractive and sporty-looking people, blindingly blonde children, spectacular mountain landscapes and kindness everywhere I turn.
And the people. Everyone I met was so, so nice. I have had supermarket employees chase me down an aisle to ask if I needed help finding anything, then walk me 7 aisles over to find the fresh tortellini. Like, no big deal.
And as far as our sublet was concerned, this was comfort-ville. We stayed in a neighborhood called Sports Village, complete with adults-only pool, gym and community center with shuffleboard (nope, I didn’t play). Our condo was big, with great views, a washer and dryer, dishwasher and no sign of a crazy landlord.
I’m not used to settings this warm and fuzzy — it’s like the happy ending of a Lifetime Original Movie here. But I know I sure am going to miss it when it’s no longer “home.”