The Arizona Zone

Monument Valley on the Arizona/Utah state line has one of the most recognisable landscapes in the world – it appears in everything from old cowboy movies to screensavers. Thanks to veteran film director John Ford it will forever be associated with classic Westerns like Stagecoach and The Searchers. But it has also become a metaphor for America's vastness, freedom, great outdoors and even for the nation itself. So iconic is this landscape that no one making a Western today would use, without heavy irony, Monument Valley as a backdrop (the genre will never really go away – think of the recent True Grit remake, Rango, or the forthcoming, Steven Spielberg-produced, Cowboys and Aliens).

I am a searcher too – looking for a spiritual experience. New-ager friends had visited Sedona, Arizona's Lindisfarne, some years ago. And the Navajo whose spiritual homeland is Monument Valley have a rich and powerful culture/religion and a respect for the land that is centuries old and perfectly in tune with today's eco-movement. Native American culture with its animal symbolism is rewardingly complex. There’s a tragic element too – the mistreatment of the Native Americans can be witnessed to this day. It's something you can't appreciate until you see it yourself.

At one point during my travels I find myself stopping at a dirt-poor trinket stand cobbled together with scrap wood. Here Navajo folk sell cheap beaded bangles. An enormous mobile home the size of a removal truck pulls in and out steps Rich America. A tiny pedigree hound scampers up to the stall holder's Chihuahua. The two dogs bark at each other. The hound’s mistress declares that her tiny Valentine doesn't like other dogs… or people. It is a tiny moment that seems to capture something of the inequality that exists in the US.

The best time to travel to avoid the desert heat is spring or from early September on. I fly direct from Heathrow to Phoenix, Arizona, a huge city of four million. The following day in a rented Ford Escape I travel 175km south to Tucson a city surrounded by suburban sprawl. The old vaudeville theatre, the Rialto, has been converted into an indie venue and the neighbouring Congress hotel (former star guest John Dillinger) hosts feisty club nights. A fine modern art gallery is one of the few downtown must-sees.

Two memorable daytrips take me to Tombstone, the legendary cowboy town, and Sabino Canyon. The state of Arizona is thousands of kilometres from the sea so any hint of water is a thrill. Run-off from the tablelands comes from melting snow and creates waterfalls, swimming holes and even a beach area. An electric bus takes you so far and there is plenty of scope for off-road hiking (if signs warning of the sighting of a wild cougar don't put you off – if you see him don't make eye contact and don't run as it "will trigger the chase instinct" says helpful signage).

After a picnic lunch amid the boulders and cacti I go back to town stopping at a Tucson institution. Bookman's is a warehouse-sized emporium devoted to second-hand CDs, books and magazines. By contrast, the next day at Tombstone I see a re-enactment of the shootout at the OK Corral. The town’s a hoot – Main Street, saloons with swing doors, locals dressed as gunfighters, stagecoach rides and a tour of Boot Hill cemetery. It’s not tacky; it's part of American history. It's also close to the US/Mexican border so take your passport with you in case twitchy officials ask.

My next stop is Sedona: the New Age Lourdes. In the mid-1980s this became a place of pilgrimage and the surrounding rock formations in astonishing shades of red and orange are extraordinary. Spas in the woods offer any number of therapies for the weary traveller but Sedona town, for me, is like a trip round a crowded shopping mall without the benefit of air con. Yes you can have your chakras aligned, a hot stone massage or a psychic reading but sadly this place is a real tourist trap. Republican Party reptile John McCain has a cabin in Sedona, which really says it all.

A Jeep takes me into the nearby desert to discover more – beware the crazy UFO spotters like Maia who tells me she has bought the whole Sedona one-stop shop and sees no conflict between the commercial razzmatazz and the alternative therapies. Sedona's claim to fame is as home to the crystal vortex. It’s here where, the brochures say, you can "spend the day and bask in the energy from the ‘vortex’, Sedona's famous mountain where ‘crystal energy’ radiates from the ground". This is not the enlightenment I am looking for.

Just to the south of Sedona is the town of Jerome (pop. 500). This former copper mining boom town is what Sedona used to be like. In the 1950s the bottom fell out of copper. The ghost town turned funky thanks to an influx of artists and free spirits who resurrected the village which clings surreally on the side of Cleopatra Hill. The mechanic's garage, old brothels and saloons have been roughly converted into organic cafes, indie galleries and rowdy bars. In the “cribs district” one former brothel is now the House of Joy retro gift shop. Next door's garden is filled with all manner of weirdiana from traffic lights to the full-size statue of a saint (probably Jerome). There's live music in the beer halls on Saturdays and the place has fiercely resisted the gentrification giving it a quirky make-do persona. Jerome is about as far from corporate, suburban America as you can get and as such it's a gem that will hopefully resist the tarnish that big bucks inevitably bring.

Some 300km on is Flagstaff, my last stop before Monument Valley. I take another quick detour to visit the Grand Canyon. Its vastness is spectacular and can be taken in from various viewing areas but unless you plan to make a meal of it with helicopter trips it's really just a day trip. I meet Ted in a recommended hotel restaurant called Charlie's and he tells me that for a nowheresville, lively Flagstaff has a lot going for it thanks to the huge student population; there's a solid music and the bar scene. The famous Lowell Observatory on its outskirts and the town boasts a Dark Skies city award so take a telescope.

For zero light pollution and real spiritual connection you need Monument Valley Navajo Tribal Park. There are two choices of accommodation if you want to stay close to the Valley – Gouldings and the newly-built View hotel. You should make reservations for these well in advance of your trip. Both are staffed mostly by the Navajo. I lunch at Goulding’s – traditional Navajo flatbread (a kind of deep-fried Yorkshire pudding) and chilli beef, and check into the View hotel which prides itself in its environmental credentials – recycling, low-flow showers, locally-sourced food, solar panels.

The night sky is awash with stars. By day you can see the weather clouds approaching from the far distance of the flat plain. The red rocks change colour as the sun moves. And there is an amazing silence, as if the world has suddenly stood still. To the Navajo – whose famed spirituality is all about restoring harmony to the person and nature – this is holy land, sacred for thousands of years. And you can see why so many different people see it as God's own country no matter which god they revere.

You can make your return flight from Denver or – in complete contrast to the deathly quiet and calm of Monument Valley – Las Vegas.