In Big Bend National Park my husband, father, daughter and I stood on the banks of the yellow-green waters of the Rio Grande. On our side – the US side – we planted our feet on a beach of cracked mud. On the other side, a 1,000ft cliff wall rose from the river to run left and right, as far as the eye can see. It was the sort of picturesque photo-op that National Parks are built for.
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