At the moment, I am typing this using the hotel room’s “Internet TV” service – so please excuse typos. Yesterday, I spent fifteen minutes writing a diary entry only for it to disappear into the ether courtesy of this service. Oh well…cheap ‘n’ cheerful, I guess.
Last week, left for USA. Hardest part of the journey was getting stuck in traffic for 30 minutes on the M25 as soon as we entered it from our locale. Not good. The flight was a breeze – though I was shocked by the amount of babies travelling on the flight. When the plane began its descent, they all started bawling as their little ears popped. Poor little mites….their parents should be strung up by their codlings for making them suffer so.
Arrived in the afteroon. The Missus advised me to keep going rather than nap. So I kept going and we mooched around and got something to eat. Went over 24 hours without sleep. When I slept I woke at 5am in the morning (jetlag rules OK). This pattern continued for the next three days.
Hired a car, made the Missus drive immediately onto the freeway in order to conquer her fear of driving on the wrong side of the road. It worked (almost). Had little gas and so we pulled off in some run down part of LA. Nice hispanic man at the gas station showed us how to use the pump. Different from the UK. He was helpful and laughed with us at our British incompentence.
Carried on driving. Got to Irvine. Checked in, went out. Headed for the South Coast Plaza for shopping and snacks. Good fun. Bought Talking Heads CD. Went back to the hotel. The Missus had a nap while I tried to remain cold, stone awake. Went down for the concert. Arrived at the desk but there was no record of me on the computer and so I used my English accent to convince the guy that I had travelled all the way from England for this show. Got a pair of entry bands. Thanks, BarryK. Checked out the “art”.
“Like shooting fish in a barrel,” says cynical me. Though we did chortle at the paper mache dog complete with postman’s hand in its mouth. It reminded us of Rumpus Meridius Maximus who is probably rumping on the sofa 5000+ miles away in Blighty.
Watched gigs. Went back to room. Slept. Left early. Headed to Fashion Island near Newport. Mooched around here for a couple of hours. Headed off again along the Pacific Coast Highway – stopping off here and there. Sat on a bench overlooking Rendondo Beach for 45 minutes – doing our thing, people watching. Do we dare join the good-looking, tanned locals? No, who wants to see our pale flesh exposed? So we shuffled back to the car and continued our journey.
Parked near Santa Monica Beach and had some grub. The turkey and coleslaw sandwich sounded nice on the menu. Went it arrived it was deep fried! Jeez, I felt like Elvis. Afterwards, a walk along the sea front up to Marina del Ray (though not all the way there, I am afraid) was enough to get the greasy sandwich through my digestive system. Walked there and back – stopping to sit and enjoy the evening sunshine and the sand. Back to hotel for deep sleep and waking at five in the morning.
Sunday began with us walking to the Guitar Centre on Sunset. Nice to look around but the staff are just a little too keen to introduce themselves. Let me browse in peace, dagnammit!
Walked back to the hotel in the mid-day heat and went out driving to the Santa Monica shopping complex on Third St. Good mooching. Had tea and a scone in one of the “English” tea rooms around there. The tea was good but the scone was a bit floury for my pallette.
Walking down to the coast and down to the pier. To the end of the pier for photos and staring out to see. Naturally more impressive than Clacton Pier which I had visited in July, but what do you expect. Walked slowly back to the car. Hotel and bed.
Monday morning was my first morning without waking at five am. No more jetlag, hurrah! Went out driving stopped here and there. Visited my favourite Sam Ash music store and bought some musical goodies. Drove around Beverly Hills and the Palisades. Good driving. The Missus made a motoring faux pas and we nearly got squished by a very big juggernaut. Not bad going. One honk the whole weeked. Well done, The Missus.
Stopped by the beach again and walked around before sitting in the sun for 45 minutes. People watching. Police arresting bums. Dogs in the heat. The odd British accent. Had to return early as the Missus begins her professional life for the next couple of days. She spent the night out at some DVD awards (I declined to go, preferring to stay in the room and play with my new musical toys). Watched my first proper evening of American TV and then to bed.
And that brings me up to this moment. Tuesday morning. The Missus is working and I’ve got to figure out what I am doing with myself. Might take in a movie or just mooch around the locale. Some drummer is playing in a musical at a theatre that is part of my hotel complex. Everywhere I go Val Kilmer is staring at me. I don’t likes it.

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