Phoenix: For Work

Straight from San Francisco to Phoenix. No break. Different suitcase energy when you pack for a conference and a work trip back to back and the climates are completely different: SF layers and a jacket versus Phoenix shorts and sunscreen. The flight from SFO to PHX is about two hours and I spent most of it with my laptop open, transitioning from conference brain to work brain, which is its own form of mental jet lag.

Stayed at the Homewood Suites by Hilton Phoenix Airport South. It's near the airport, which was the point. In and out for work, meetings, eXp stuff. The Homewood Suites is an extended-stay format: kitchenette in the room, free breakfast, a pool that I used once at 6 AM before meetings started. The room was functional and quiet, which is all you need when the trip is about work and the hotel is about sleeping. The sunrise over the desert from the pool deck at that hour was better than the room deserved. The sky went from black to purple to orange in about 15 minutes and the mountains to the east caught the first light in a way that made me stand there with my coffee for longer than I'd planned. Phoenix sunrises are one of the few things about the city that nobody argues about. I swam a few laps while the pool was empty, which at 6 AM in Phoenix it always is, and the combination of cold water and warm air and a sky that was still changing colors above me was the best start to a day I'd had in weeks.

Phoenix in September is still hot. Not the surface-of-the-sun hot it is in July, but low 100s during the day with a dry heat that makes you feel like you're inside a convection oven. The locals say "but it's a dry heat" the way Canadians say "but it's a dry cold." Neither is the comfort they think it is. The walk from the parking lot to the office building was about 90 seconds and I was sweating by the time I got inside.

The work was productive. Meetings ran two days with the eXp team. Good conversations, clear action items, productive sessions that justified the flight. The Scottsdale area has grown significantly since I was last there for G's birthday trip in 2023. New developments everywhere, cranes on the skyline, growth that reminds you Arizona is one of the fastest-growing states in the country. One of the meetings was at a coworking space in North Scottsdale that had a terrace overlooking the McDowell Mountains. We took a break between sessions and stood outside and the view was absurd: red rock, desert scrub, saguaro cactus standing like sentinels on the hillside, all of it baking in 100-degree sun that didn't seem to bother anyone except me.

After the meetings one evening I drove into Old Town Scottsdale because I had two hours before dinner and wanted to see what had changed since G's birthday trip. The answer: a lot. New restaurants, new galleries, a couple of hotels under construction. The energy is different from Phoenix proper. Scottsdale has figured out the walkable downtown thing in a way that most Arizona cities haven't. I walked the art galleries on Marshall Way for about 30 minutes, the same galleries G and her friend had browsed during the birthday trip. One of them had a photography exhibition of desert landscapes at golden hour that stopped me for a while. The photographer had captured something about the light out here that I'd been trying to describe to people back in Miami and couldn't. The desert light is a color that doesn't exist in humid climates. It's dry and golden and it makes everything look like it was painted.

I sat at a bar on Stetson Drive and had a mezcal cocktail and watched the sunset through the window. The bartender asked if I was visiting and I said work and he said "everyone says work and then they move here" which felt accurate based on the number of people I've met who came to Arizona for a conference and never left.

I had dinner one night at a Mexican place near the hotel that a colleague recommended. Carne asada tacos, a michelada, a meal that costs $15 and outperforms most $50 dinners. The salsa was made fresh and the tortillas were handmade and the horchata tasted like it was made that morning. The restaurant was small and packed and nobody was speaking English, which is usually a reliable quality indicator. The other night I ordered room service and worked until midnight, which is the less glamorous version of business travel that nobody puts on Instagram.

On the last morning I drove through Papago Park on the way to the airport because it added ten minutes and the desert scenery was worth it. The red buttes of Papago at 7 AM, with the sun low and the light hitting the rock at an angle that turns everything copper, made me pull over even when you have a flight to catch. I pulled over. Took a photo. Texted it to G. She replied "move there" which is what she says about every city with mountains and sun. I replied "you said that about Scottsdale, Palm Beach, and Lake Garda." She replied "and I was right every time."

Three nights. Worked, ate tacos, used the pool once, argued with G about where we should live. Flew home to Miami, which is where we live, despite G's ongoing campaign to relocate us to every beautiful place we visit.