destination - sedona, arizona | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | | |
~ continued from page 11
Out of nowhere, my parents exclaimed that God
told them to move to Sedona, which meant we were
going to be leaving the comfy confines of country
club laden, Long Island. Sedona??? I didn’t even know
where that was, and none of us had even set foot
in Arizona. Our house went on the market within
days and was sold within weeks; all on the seemingly
precarious idea that God had spoken. I finished up
two years of high school here without much of a
social circle, but as a result of being an outsider, I
had the chance to explore the outdoors. This was
new to me. I’d left behind an extremely competitive
educational rat race where I was constantly obsessing
about being the best. So that someday I could get into
the right school, so that someday I could succeed
at the right job (that I’d probably hate), and end up
living a fairly dismal life.
Here people were living in the moment, even in
high school. The idea of killing yourself over a grade
simply didn’t exist. I had a 4.0 when I graduated at
15, but really, the city mentality fell into obscurity as
I hiked and mountain biked voraciously. Every day
after school I had the luxury of time, time to go out
and experience Sedona. It wasn’t long before I fell in
love with it and all its small town ways.
Fast-forward many years, past the engineering
days and odd jobs from chef to timeshare street
urchin, and we find ourselves at another “God
moment.” Approximately 6 years after moving to
Sedona, my Mom had a hankering for a place where
she could meet people, help people, and create an
experience that was uniquely Sedona. In jest, my
father recommended that she ask God for one,
so that is exactly what she did. The very next day
a real estate agent that had mistaken my dad for
being French (he’s Swiss) called to see if he would
be interested in partnering with a Frenchman on a
B&B or hotel. Lo and behold, we bought a decrepit
nightmare of a property called, A Sunset Chateau,
only a few days later. Apropos for two strangers, who
just happen to be French-speaking expats, to buy a
chateau together.
The chateau itself was falling apart at the seams
and our partner quickly tired of the unending
renovations and left the business. Who knew that
12 psst! | summer 2018
JEAN-CHRISTOPHE BUILLET | PHOTOGRAPHER
Jacuzzi at
night
JEAN-CHRISTOPHE BUILLET | PHOTOGRAPHER
Pool with
scenic overview
Tiaquepaque
Courtyard