The Faster Lane / Tyler Brûlé
Southern comfort
By now you’ll know that a large Monocle contingent was in Dallas earlier in the week for the second edition of our leadership conference, The Chiefs. A report by our editor in chief, Andrew Tuck, can be found here but allow me to fill you in on what happened before and after.
Seat 1A on an American Airlines flight from Miami to Phoenix: the crew is in a good mood, the woman to my right is absorbed in her book and I sleep for the first three hours of the flight. I wake up somewhere over western Texas and order a gin and tonic, and my seatmate decides to follow my lead. I nod “cheers” in her direction and she reciprocates; before long we’re chatting about her journey from Lima, the rise of Peruvian cuisine, her daughter’s retail business and the worrying state of education in California. She says that she has been living in the US for most of her adult life and is concerned that no one has a handle on her “Latin American brothers and sisters crossing the border”. She loves her life on the ocean and all that Southern California offers but feels that it’s unravelling. “We’ll end up in Texas or Arizona if things don’t improve,” she says. The flight attendant collects our glasses. We’re landing in Phoenix 38 minutes ahead of schedule.
Saturday evening, Paradise Valley, Arizona: I’m en route to my hotel in Scottsdale and I’m wondering whether the local government has started an energy-saving programme and demanded that all streetlights should be turned off to conserve electricity. It seems odd that a city touted as one of North America’s fastest-growing is so dark. Could it be that the holiday-home owners are still up in Calgary and Minneapolis and haven’t arrived for the winter season?
After a while we hit some patches of light and the city starts to come to life… somewhat. I ask the driver when the power-conservation measures started and he’s a bit confused by my line of questioning. “No, no, it’s not about saving electricity,” he says. “It’s so that residents and visitors can look up and enjoy the night sky and stars. It has always been like this.”
When I step out of the enormous Chevy Suburban I note that the hotel has no overhead lighting and what illumination I see is at ground or knee level. As I walk to my bungalow in the chilly desert air, the sky is a dazzling array of stars. More cities might opt for this low-watt approach to better urbanism.
Sunday morning, Scottsdale, Arizona: I’m back in the Suburban with my friend Hanna and we’re doing a high-speed spin around Phoenix to get a fix on its retail-property scene. The streets and boulevards are busy with lean cyclists enjoying the morning air and coffee joints have queues of people pulling up in their Cayennes for takeaway breakfasts and the Sunday edition of The New York Times. It only takes a few minutes of touring neighbourhoods around Scottsdale to recognise that the city has some of America’s best modernist residential architecture and by the time we stop for coffee I’m already researching how much a little gem by the likes of Ralph Haver or TS Montgomery might set you back. To my surprise, not much. Phoenix needs to work on long-haul connections to make it work for modernism lovers in Europe and Asia, however. For the moment its best connection is a British Airways flight to London’s Heathrow.
Sunday evening, Los Angeles, California: the sun is setting and there’s a gentle buzz on the streets as people head back into the city and prep for the week ahead. But the city feels quieter than expected. I pop into The Monocle Shop to say hello to my colleagues, grab drinks and dinner with our correspondent Chris Lord and take a little spin around Beverly Hills and West Hollywood to survey what has opened, what has closed and how the city is faring. It’s hard to ignore the amount of homelessness: people are camping out in doorways and have set up tent villages in public parks. Back in my hotel room, I turn on the TV and see election campaign ads that are full of promises to tackle the problem. Providing extra beds seems to be the dominant pitch to voters but is that really the solution for the tens of thousands of people now without work, shelter or basic services?
Dallas Fort Worth International Airport (DFW), Texas: if you miss the convenience of Berlin Tegel Airport and its drive-up-and-depart architectural plan, maybe you can join the hundreds of other businesses relocating to Texas – and Dallas in particular. While DFW is lacking on the innovative retail and F&B front, it works well if you want to arrive in your Cadillac Escalade and be steps away from your gate. If the airport is to cope with the region’s growth, it needs proper high-speed rail links and a landscape scheme for connecting passengers who want to stretch out in the sun and get a bit of fresh air between flights.
The Street Bar, Boston, Massachusetts: the last time I was in Boston was circa 1988, when I was on the university debating trail and winning ribbons and trophies with my skilled team of polished public speakers. I stopped over for a few hours on Thursday on my way back to Zürich and was pleasantly charmed. The scale of the residential buildings in the Back Bay district are welcoming, there was an absence of “For rent” signs at street level, and everything and everyone looked perfect under a cloudless autumn sky. The high point was a very good club sandwich and round of drinks at the Newbury Boston hotel’s Street Bar. With so many hoteliers trying to deliver tricked-out mixology rather than focusing on the basics, it’s hard to find a new hotel bar that’s cosy and makes you want to linger. I was so happy on the sofa by the fireplace that I half-considered checking in and missing my flight. I’m looking forward to a swift return to Boston.