Day 17: Travel Day
Welcome
Yesterday we drove from Tucson to Palm Springs.
We had a day to make it back to the Coachella Valley, a 600km drive across the Sonoran Desert. We also had two hundred dollars’ worth of Bookman’s vouchers burning a hole in our pockets. This might not seem like something worth delaying our journey for, but we wouldn’t be returning to the southwest for a while and being gifted vouchers for this Arizona-based bookstore chain had changed the game. What does a bookstore chain sell in 2024, we wondered? The answer it turns out was guitars, and guitar pedals, and strings and drumsticks and picks. There were books too, hundreds of them, and also candles and ornaments, and scarves from the Himalayas, the sort of accoutrement you might find in a gift shop. Jon nearly bought a microphone but walked out with a guitar pedal, a mystery device that he decided to take a gamble on. Tristan purchased an Indonesian phrase book and some drum sticks, and I bought some new bass strings and patch cables. We walked out of the store possessing a diamond-rated certainty, knowing in our hearts that bookshops are here to stay.
Breakfast came from the deft hands and the sharp bread knife of an Illinois baker named Jimmy John Liautaud, a veggie sandwich on French bread with hand-sliced provolone cheese, tasty avocado spread, Hellmann's® mayo, fresh-sliced lettuce, tomato, cucumber, pickles, peppers, onion, crispy jalapenos, and mustard. We brought our parcels of food back to the van and ate while Paul drove us out of the city, setting a course northwest on I-10 and aiming for California.
The desert crossing took us the best part of six hours and was as beautiful as it was boring. Staggered layers of mountain ranges could be seen in the distance, multiple shades of green and grey drifting out of focus, while up close our attention was bid for by attorneys at law, glorious billboards lining the sides of the highway. It was approaching golden hour when we began our descent into the Coachella Valley and coming from the south we were met by a splendid view of the city of Indio, a gentle suburban sprawl dressed in a palm tree stubble. Our accommodation was in Palm Springs proper, forty minutes up the road from the festival grounds and we headed there eagerly, making a quick stop at the supermarket to pick up dinner ingredients.
Approaching the Coachella Valley.
Our Airbnb turned out to be a classic Palm Springs spec bungalow, low and flat, stucco walls, rock garden out front and pool and patio out back; a very comfortable place for us to reside for the next few days. The kitchen quickly became a very busy place as several members of the touring party poured their energies into a healthy and delicious spread, excitedly wielding the sort of kitchen grabbers and stabbers that they had been deprived of for the past couple of weeks. It had the feel of a family meal, a perfect end to the day and a restful eve before our big festival performance.
