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Palm Spraaaangs
A weekend trip to Palm Springs was not quite what I expected. In that it was just as desert-y (if not moreso) than Phoenix–and in f...
A weekend trip to Palm Springs was not quite what I expected. In that it was just as desert-y (if not moreso) than Phoenix–and in fact even more hot that weekend. Profuse sweating aside, it was a good time.
We stayed in this bright, minimal mid-century style apartment that I was super into. In fact I embraced that aspect of PS as much as I could, grabbing a copy of the Mid Mod Architecture Self Guided Tour Map at the PS visitors centor. We beat the heat and wasted gas rolling up and down the streets, ogling old structures as if they were celebrities. Speaking of, we tried to visit Steve McQueen’s house up on some ridiculously steep hill, only to find that (duh) it was in a gated community.
We did see Frank Sinatra’s old place and some weird, pseudo-futuristic home that Elvis Presley honeymooned in. Oh, and yeah, we saw #thatpinkdoor and I did literally
everyon
e a favor by
not
photographing myself in front of it.
Besides man-made beauty we got to see some natural stuffs too, via Moorten Botanical Garden and a rotating Aerial Tram that lifted us onto a huuuuuge mountain where we did some v light hiking and ate some v mediocre cafeteria food.
The trip was in honor of my birthday, and we ended it as it should have ended, sweating in and around the giant folk art sculpture, Salvation Mountain.
Even the drive back was an adventure, taking back roads past the Salton Sea and through these amazing sand dunes. I’m not sure I want to return any time soon, but I enjoyed escaping to some place new.
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