Los Angeles is the most underrated walking city in the world. The very patchiness of its planning gives rise to architectural curiosities that more orderly places design out of existence. And — a precondition of flânerie that Charles Baudelaire never mentioned — the weather enables you to linger over them.

I log a 24km day, from Koreatown to the Hauser & Wirth, up to Silver Lake via Yayoi Kusama’s show at The Broad, then westward, until the lactic acid disables my calves on that bit of Melrose where psychotropic herbs do brisk (and legal) business. The next day, an architect friend talks me through Peter Zumthor’s sweeping revision of the LA County Museum of Art, which will overhang Wilshire Boulevard like a gull wing.

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