A Fat Purple Fig

We are sitting in the rooftop bar at the Hyatt Centrico, in downtown Montreal, admiring the view over the water and La Grande Roue de Montréal, the largest observation wheel in Canada. We have traded our welcome-drink vouchers for an Aperol Spritz and added a charcuterie board, so we’re feeling pretty fancy. I look up ‘things to do in Montreal’, and run some options by Kitty. After all, on holidays, a day unplanned is as good as a day wasted (Fiona, 2017).

I can’t seem to get up early on this holiday, or even at what might be considered a reasonable time. And it is bothering me…but obviously not enough to do it. Note that I said ‘get up’, and not ‘wake up’. It’s not a matter of setting an alarm, or leaving the curtains open, but of making the effort to follow the path of the righteous. I am carrying the dead weight of resistance, a stone’s throw from spending the rest of the trip eating salt & vinegar chips and watching The Office. There is a battle being waged between my halves: setter and breaker, order and chaos, builder and burn-it-to-the-ground.

We descend the steep stairs to a confined dining room, below-ground, where and handful of tables has been set for breakfast. There are three other American couples present, and our arrival has interrupted their conversation. We offer a reciprocal ‘good morning‘ and park ourselves at the only available table.

Stocked up with rolls and snacks from our untouched meal trays, we find our way to the rental car zone at Jamaica Circle, Queens. ‘Ok, Kitty,‘ I announce, ‘we are about to drive through New York City. Brace yourself.‘ Aaaand, we are off, in our trusty white Corolla (now on the top of the list of cars I like best).

‘La Condesa?’ Javi says, ‘You are staying in a hipster area!’ We figured. La Condesa, or ‘The Countess’ is thick with trees and cafes. The surrounding former-racetrack, Amsterdam Avenue, accommodates a daily procession of dog walkers and joggers, ambling down the leafy centre walkway that is reserved for their use.

It is raining. Not heavily, but enough to steadily soak us as we walk from the Tree House to Taquería Álvaro Obregón, to meet our Lucha Libre host, Javier. He has a flat tyre and is 10 minutes late, so we follow his instructions to ‘get inside the restaurant and tell them you are coming with Javi.‘ Google orders our beers, and Kitty delights in watching the waiters huddle, to discuss which to serve. They eventually decide on a Mexican Pilsener called Bohemia. It is a good choice. We smile and nod excessively to show our appreciation.

Taco-heavy, I meet Citla outside The Red Tree House at 6am, for our 5km run through one of the oldest areas in Mexico City, Coyoacán. As we drive through the darkened city streets, we compare running notes; Citla’s longest run (60km) to mine (6km), and her 25 years of trail running to my months-long resurgence of gritted-teeth laps of the local oval. I steel myself, ready to face the music.

Kitty and choose a whimsical ceramic gift, fill the car with gas, tip our Alamo shuttle driver, and say farewell (for now) to Los Angeles. We are pumped about this flight. I have splashed out on first-class tickets for the shortest flight of all, so Kitty can experience the wonder that is feeling flight-special. We glide gracefully past the cattle-class queue for the bag drop, and instead have a lovely conversation with our Sky Priority attendant as he adds a fluorescent ‘Priority’ tag to our cases, and wishes us a lovely time.

The Morongo Band of Mission Indians is a sovereign nation on almost 40,000 acres of land in Banning, California, whose business ventures include two casinos, a bowling alley, a golf club, and a Taco Bell, amongst numerous others. Their annual Pow Wow, which attracts 25,000 spectators, is hosted in an area beside the newly-refurbished Casino Morongo, a 27-story resort which stands before the rocky backdrop of the San Gorgonio Mountain.

I am excited about the plan for Day 2 in Los Angeles. It is full, but doable. It reads as follows:

0930 La Brea Tar Pits
1030 drive to Joshua Tree
1330 hike
1430 drive to Palm Springs
1530 late lunch at Chef Tanya’s Kitchen
1630 mid-century architecture tour
1730 drive to Cabazon
1800 Morongo Reservation