October 1. Drove all the way across Nevada, now Lake Tahoe. What I expected from Nevada, it delivered: abstract, quiet, no demands. Listened to music, listened to podcasts, discussed.

I had not expected Lake Tahoe. A village of hotel huts, all party-lit, happy people everywhere sitting around fires that are gas-powered and therefore conveniently smokeless and odorless. Live music. Electric rental scooters on every corner. Although it’s already ten o'clock, we go out for a bite to eat. On the terrace of the restaurant, a few students sit down at the same fireplace, and I have rarely experienced such a strong reaction of antipathy: privileged, arrogant, stupid. I don’t believe any of my own words, but I’m shaking with disgust.