To many who’ve yet to travel here, Albuquerque must be a colorless locale on flat, treeless land. Such is the power of stereotypes about desert cities.

So let’s cut to the OIC Moment: Visiting New Mexico’s largest city is one of the best trips you’ll ever take. Original, affordable, this is a Southwestern urban gem surrounded by awe-inspiring nature.

Follow the Rio Grande—or the vintage neon glow of Route 66—to a colorful city whose diverse neighborhoods reflect four centuries of architectural variety. When I arrive, it’s a cool spring day. A canopy of brilliant blue stretches overhead.

As for “flat”—pull-eeze. Despite its rift valley location, Albuquerque commands one of the highest elevations in the U.S. The panorama includes the watermelon-pink Sandia Mountains, conifer-covered mesas, and towering, snow-capped peaks.

Soaring Exploring

Where to begin? Local friends Julie and Lisa suggest we take it from the top. All aboard the Sandia Tramway!

A glass tram suspended in air reveals stomach-dropping views of the land below. Far below. I pick this moment to confess my fear of heights.

Four 100,000-pound Swiss-made cables carry us to the summit of Sandia Crest, altitude 10,378 feet. As I crawl along the deck, I’m glad I didn’t let mere terror come between me and awe-inspiring vistas of the Land of Enchantment.

What Goes Up Must Come Down

Downtown, that is. Albuquerque Historical Society’s free walking tour is an absolute must, a fascinating stroll from 1800s boom through 1960s bust to today’s revitalization.

Abraham Santillanes guides us through beautiful landmarks like Hotel Andaluz and KiMo Theatre. He also conjures up history’s ghosts:

City of the Centuries

Founded in 1706, Albuquerque is one of the oldest inland communities in the U.S. It’s named for a Spanish colonial duke—hence its nickname “The Duke City.” Centuries earlier, it was home to the oldest farming civilization on the North American continent.

Today, most of the 19 pueblos that are home to New Mexico’s 22 tribes are within easy reach of Albuquerque. The Pueblo Cultural Center, a treasured resource of weaving, pottery, jewelry, clothing and photography, honors each tribe’s uniqueness. Exhibition texts offer compelling, pull-no-punches historical commentary.

Eat Like a Local

Scenic venues and innovative menus abound in Albuquerque. Los Poblanos Historic Inn graces acres of lavender. El Pinto Authentic New Mexican Restaurant nestles among cottonwoods. Farm & Table’s stylish city brunch offers views of organic fields.

From hipster-district Nob Hill to charming Old Town, a world mix of bistros, bakeries, and coffeehouses up the culinary ante. Casually chic Grove Café & Market makes salads so good you’ll crave them—the better to balance “second breakfast” at Rebel Donuts, green-chile pizza at Golden Crown Panaderia, and liquid gold at 25 craft breweries.

Start at the wildly popular Frontier. How warm, soft, and tasty are their tortillas? Honey, I wanted to wrap myself in them like a blanket. It wouldn’t break the bank. For $3 a dozen, I watch the friendliest counter crew in the west make tortillas on the spot.

Then there’s Monte Carlo Steakhouse. Newcomers unwittingly pass by, but every local knows this place like his mama’s kitchen. Enter by the liquor store, where George Katsaros recommends affordable fine wines, then join the wait for a table.

All of humanity’s here: dressed-up couples on dates, family reunions, ZZ Top lookalikes, the business-suited, the cowboy-booted. On a bench up front, everybody squeezes in to make room for everybody else, and conversations flow. That guy in the bowling jacket? He’s a retired professor who plays in the local symphony. Those harried parents with toddlers in footed pajamas? They just bought their first home.

Look! Up in the Sky!

A week of Burque adventure flies by—sometimes literally. While savoring early morning coffee in my friends’ splendid adobe, I hear a distinctive hiss. . . . Could it be? Bathrobe flapping, I race to the garden, look up, and . . . There. It. Is.

The city’s clear skies, low humidity, and high elevation offer the ideal conditions that have made Albuquerque the Hot Air Balloon Capital of the world. Now, a balloon hovers over the house, so close that my friends and I exchange pleasantries with the passengers.

Adios Too Soon

En route to the “Sunport,” I see a baseball stadium. It’s home to a minor-league team with major-league cool, the Albuquerque Isotopes. Shouldn’t I linger to cheer them on? Stay until the cottonwoods turn gold again? Until Albuquerque’s outdoor ovens scent the air with roasting chiles?

I still need to hike the Paseo del Bosque Trail, take the “Breaking Bad” tour, sign up for that cooking class at UNM.

As my flight rises above the watermelon mountains, I jot down plans for future best trips.