Mac, Moon, and I loved spending time with friends in Palm Springs. Mac had no less than 5 dogs in and out of the house over the weeks to play and romp with– which helped him get back-to-100% after his surgery a few weeks earlier.
For me, part of enjoying the time was just spreading out– living in the van, as soon as you use something– it has to go right back into its place. You don’t have the luxury of leaving out dirty dishes, and anything extraneous is jettisoned.
Having space in the rental house meant I could put together a few puzzles. Something I enjoyed very much when we didn’t live on wheels, but gave up due to living within the confines of 19 feet. I was delighted to see our rental home had a Prince puzzle– very on-brand for Palm Springs. And in putting it together, I learned he wrote “Nothing Compares 2 U”– the Sinead O’ Connor song: everyone laughed, and told me I was the last person to find out.
Staying off the main tourist streets of Palm Springs means you can often find good spots the locals prefer– for half the price of the places on the strip– and Paul Bar was one of those gems. With a non-descript sign in a strip mall reading “Bar / Food” only, you wouldn’t know what was awaiting inside. It was a near-speakeasy-type reveal: as we waited outside, next to a bustling convenience store– a well-coiffed man in a dinner jacket opened the door.
It was Paul, and this was his bar. He later told us that he opened it as a distraction from a failing relationship, and it was easy to see how much energy Paul had poured into his establishment.
Inside, the bar resembled a tight, dark bar in Manhattan– with a long, antique backbar that was beautifully-carved, and set the vibe of an old-fashioned cocktail bar extremely well. The featured cocktails were full of fresh fruits, herbs, and very high-end spirits. Moon got a drink called a “Black Manhattan” that was delicious– and severely intoxicating after just a sip or so.
The “Gay Pour” of legend was in full effect. We loved Paul Bar, but agreed we’d pass on the “Black Manhattan” next time.
Moon and I did venture back over to the more touristed area from our architecture tour, as our tour guide had recommended a restaurant– Azucar. This Mexican restaurant was tucked into a tiny boutique hotel, and of course, was a splash-out meal cost-wise– but the food and cocktails were worth it. The Roasted Cauliflower tacos were among the best I’d ever had, and that’s saying something– as it’s a vegetarian staple on many menus.
On top, they added roasted corn (elote-style) to add a smoky flavor, added plenty of salty cojita cheese, and were generous with the portion– the herbs, salty cheese, and toasted cauliflower were a wonderful blend. The margaritas were made of entirely fresh ingredients– I tried a watermelon margarita that simply muddled the pulp of the fruit for its juicy flavor, along with a kick from jalapeno vodka. Almost too drinkable.
We left with a pleasant buzz and a pleasant fullness to our bellies. This was easily the best food we had in Palm Springs.
We would have been remiss if we didn’t spend a day out on the town, shopping. A local resident had told us that Palm Springs is known for its shopping, so we decided to check out the wares.
Everyone got out of their sweatpants for the occasion, and even Mac get gussied up in his bowtie for the fancy shopping trip. (*Mac’s bowtie was handmade by an artisan in Tucson, Arizona, purchased at an artist fair). Off we went to town.
The shops on the main strip were mostly mid-century modern homewares, something Moon and I admired but definitely didn’t need for the van. But we found a few items that were diamonds in the rough– our best score being a two packs of “Cats” stickers, released by Topps trading cards in the 1980s.
Their formal name is “Perlorian Cats”– and the collection was an entry by Topps in 1983 that was unfortunately, ahead of its time. In a world in which cat memes on the internet had yet to explode– as the internet barely existed yet– the stickers were a total flop. Collectors find them in unopened boxes, with “X” marks all over them– they had often been shipped back to the manufacturer.
The story behind “Perlorian Cats” is that a Japanese man rescued a handful of cats in his neighborhood that were so docile, he could dress them up in outfits and pose them in elaborate scenes. Yes– before Photoshop, this gentleman patiently made costumes for his cats, then put them into miniature scenes.
Satoru Tsuda, the man who created them, took great care to ensure the comfort of the cats, saying: “These photographs are taken at incredibly high shutter speeds to capture a pose and an expression without any discomfort to the cat or cats involved. No artificial substances are used – just love and patience! And the cats seem to respond beautifully to the attention and caring that surround them.” Never fear, the cats were well-loved, and the resulting images were prescient — just a decade too soon to be the sensation they would have been post-internet.
Another lovely store was a pop-up, called PSBS for-short, or Palm Springs Bottle Shop. What made this special was the selection was entirely curated to support the often less-promoted businesses in the alcohol industry: businesses owned by women, LGBT, and folks with disabilities. They had an easy sticker system that added a nice layer to shopping– and, we found some great non-alcoholic drinks for our friends who abstain from alcohol, that they could drink during the holiday.
Speaking of the holiday, there are two types of people in the world: those who watch Hallmark Holiday Movies, and those who don’t. Moon and I used to be in the former camp, but now have transitioned into the latter as of this year. Incredibly bad art is a hobby of both Moon and myself– and we found the cheesy dialogue, unfocused plots, and terrible acting of Hallmark Movies laugh-out-loud funny.
The basic formula of the movies were so apparent, that Moon suggested the brilliant idea of making Bingo Cards that we would create to “play along” with the action. Our friends staying at the house got in on the task, and we held a ‘House Meeting’ in which we tossed out various cliches and tropes from the movies we’d seen so far, creating multiple boards and getting them printed out in time for the next ‘premieres’ of the new Hallmark Movies.
The cards, while a bit gauche, were a heck of a good time– especially when combined with Hallmark’s favorite trope: hot cocoa.
Not every day was sunny (we had about 3 days of cloud cover)– and chose one of those to hike, as it was cooler out. We inadvertently had a prelude to the rains that would drench California next month– a threat of flash flooding was on for the afternoon, so we watched the clouds carefully, especially as we hiked through the wash.
Most interesting of all was the water management process we observed– a backhoe was moving silt around the riverbed to clear up a clog and ensure the trickle of water running through the wash could keep running. It was clear that without constant intervention, it would be hard for this particular ecosystem to keep water running downstream. It was a sobering way to end the hike, especially in light of California’s deluge a month later.
The Palm Springs Tramway had always seemed like a tourist trap to me– and despite a few visits in the past, had never taken the tramway up the mountain. But seeing the snowpack at the top of the mountain enticed me– it would be nice to have a little snow during December, so I booked Moon and I tickets– and the tram did not disappoint.
The operator explained that the tram car lifts over 8,000 feet in just 15-minutes– quite a fast pace! And I began to get a bit nervous, as heights are not my favorite. But the ride lifted us pleasantly– that said, passing the four towers caused some shake in the pod, which made my heart skip a beat every time. The ride up was crowded, at max capacity with 60 people– and while the tram floor rotated to disperse the views, coming down the mountain later with just a handful of folks was much calmer.
Docking at the top, we had gone from 70-degree weather to 20-degree weather in the span of 15 minutes. Bundled against the cold winds, we emerged onto the decks and looked out below. A small museum covered the wildlife in the area, including this insane stuffed raccoon below.
We couldn’t believe we were looking out over one of the driest places in the country, while standing in snow. I’d recommend going on the first tram up, as our tram operator was clear that backup of several hours could be had on the way down as the day progressed. The price was exorbitant, but the views were spectacular.
Now, for the holiday! Being from up North, I’d never planned to have Christmas dinner after the sun went down, but this was a holiday tradition we all agreed on. Why waste a moment of the 80-degree, cloudless day? Every member of the house made at least one dish to contribute, and Coronas by the pool were more appealing than the mulled wine I made. We planned holiday dinner for 6 PM to not squander one bit of sunlight.
Moon expertly created her first-ever roast, and another friend’s Monkey Bread was the most delicious kind of breakfast. I made cookies, and even Mac got in on the action– having a treat of canned-beefy dinner (he only gets canned food once a year).
He ate it in 10 seconds, flat.
The house in Palm Springs slowly emptied as friends packed cars or headed to the airport– leaving Moon and I and Mac to enjoy our last few nights with the whole house to ourselves. Space is a definition of luxury in itself.
It was a reminder that in order to truly enjoy van life, sometimes you need to get the hell out of the van. And a reminder that scheduled time with friends to look forward to is a huge mental health boost. Even though we meet lovely people every day when traveling, it’s a different kind of interaction to spend quality time with people you know best. Something we rarely took for granted before, but yet another thing the van has brought more importance to.
Our time. in Palm Springs was just the reset we needed before hitting the road again– limbs rested in the hot tub, hearts full from time with buddies, and our minds spinning about why Hallmark Movies are as terrible as they are.
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