Portable Mind: A sort of travel guide

Hot Pink

No, I'm not talking about my skin, which got pretty close to burning as I strolled under the hot sun through the Sonoran desert. I'm referring to, of course, the stunning desert flowers in Tucson, at the incredible Desert Museum. Visting the museum is the only smart way to wander through the desert to see the eye popping, colorful flowers in concert with indigenous desert creatures - javelina, bobcats, wolves, mountain lions, and more - residing peacefully (sleeping or tucked away in the shade) in their native environments.

B side

Hotel Congress

The dusty Saturday afternoon went from from Mission San Xavier to downtown Tucson, an area that has been struggling to revitalize for years. The indicators are apparent - renovation of two historic theatres, a collection of art galleries and music stores, almost-hip cafes and a thriving music scene. It is not, I imagine, an area of Tucson that visitors flock to, because it is the business district (never a sexy term); but significant history threads through it, as Spanish conquistadors, missionaries, Mexican & US armies have all left their footprint there. And so we made our first footprint at Hotel Congress, a place to anchor ourselves, and get out of the heat.

Hotel Congress was the scene where John Dillinger was arrested and extradited, due to a fire that drew him out of hiding in 1934. Built in 1919, it was once a stop for well-heeled travelers from the east who were traveling by train to the west, and still carries a genteel Western atmosphere. The hotel is still in operation, and with two bars, one that serves as a live music venue, and a restaurant, it's a great place to catch some local color. Feeding my desire to try and find the underbelly of the city, we chose to have lunch in the bar instead of the Cup Cafe, a well known establishment that has received several "Best of Tucson" awards . Our lunch was decadent, cowboy-inspired fare alongside cold beer, and seated under a ceiling fan spinning 103 degree air -  the atmosphere was perfect.

Reflection

Mission San Xavier, Tucson

Dan left me this weekend to frolic work in Budapest, covering the Acer Global Press Conference. It actually seems like a big event, and he's already written about it. Impressive, considering the gorgeous city he is in.

Now that I have time, I am organizing all of the photographs and memories of the places we traveled to this summer (and finally getting around to writing about them). We chose to visit hot places, venturing north only for shorter trips to New England. There are a few reasons for this - I like traveling to places when everyone else is not, and the cost is significantly less when it's off-season. Still, from the cool perch of the Northeast, traveling to a city like Tucson in June might simply seem crazy and unpleasant. It's true: it's hot. Yet somehow, it's easy to romanticize the heat as part of the scenery - essential to a wide open landscape that lies under brilliant blue skies and perfect sunsets.

We took a Saturday afternoon to see Mission San Xavier del Bac. It is one of the oldest churches in the country, a cool white sanctuary that faces Mexico and sits in the shadows of three mountain ranges. I am always struck by how humbled I feel inside a place like this, and find myself unconsciously taking a seat for much longer than I intended. The interior is delicate, colored by faded but elegant murals, decorated with fragile-looking statues and shrines. A Jesus figure lies in a glass case, upon which visitors have left tokens for loved ones - handwritten notes, photos, and hospital bracelets. Quietly powerful, and unexpectedly healing.

South by Southwest

It's June, summer has almost landed in New York and people are spending their weekends in the Hamptons/the Cape/at the Shore. The warm weather and lazy days (or those that I dream of, anyway) make me crave a road trip and recently I've been thinking about heading south. It's totally against my nature because I'm kind of a cold weather girl, but maybe it was that Mint Julep I had a few weeks back at Death & Co that has me dreaming about lounging on a veranda under oak trees and spanish moss; or baking in the desert sun, margarita in hand as a wicked summer storm thunders in the distance.

Last July, I spent a 105-degree week under the Tucson sun attempting to turn my Northern skin golden brown and stressed mood into a more relaxed one. It didn't take long - a 30SPF afternoon by the pool at Loews Ventana, followed by dinner at Hacienda del Sol watching the sun set over the Santa Catalina mountains and suddenly I couldn't remember where New York was any longer. Nor did I care. The sublime beauty of the desert had put everything into perspective.

Like how difficult it is to get really great, authentic Mexican food in the Northeast.

We'd been directed to Cafe Poca Cosa, told it was the best Mexican in the city. At the time, the restaurant was housed on the first floor of a crumbling old hotel. Part of the experience was entering through the decrepit white structure into the explosive red and green interior, warm with the scent of chiles, chocolate and cinnamon. We ordered the chef's menu, happy to let someone else decide what we should eat, and it included her (chef Susana Davila) famous Mole. It was Like Water for Chocolate in downtown Tucson.

The city was quiet in July, as half the population was probably up North somewhere, which appealed to my need to slow down. We found the underbelly at Hotel Congress, a historic hotel where John Dillinger was captured in 1934. It's now a haven for local artists and musicians, restored but feels very old West in a cow punk kind of way... the kind of place where you kick back with a cocktail at 4 in the afternoon and hang with the colorful locals.  Which seems like the perfect thing to do on a summer afternoon... and what I think of as I run my fingers across the map wondering where to run off to this summer.