We were, as mentioned in the last blog, supposed to be leaving Fiji at 10pm but as expected, for this was Fiji after all, we would be delayed. It was 2am before our flight left Nadi which meant sitting around in the airport for seven frustrating and in my case anyway, horrific hours. After spending the day with stomach cramps my seven hours was spent in the airport toilets keeled over a bin that I had dragged into the cubicle. The epitome of class. Anyway, before we knew it we were in the sky. Due to the tiredness factor the ten hour flight seemed like a veritable breeze, whizzing by in a tiredness induced haze until some time later we landed in a sunny LA, intent on getting to our hostel as soon as was humanly possible. Unfortunately the shuttle bus we eventually found took an hour and a half to get to our hostel, winding its way through a literal maze of interstate freeways, gridlocked traffic and block upon block of fast food joints, asian takeaways and apartments. It was indescribably huge.
The next day, after a feeble attempt to recover from accumulated jetlag, we set out from our hotel and wandered down Hollywood Boulevard, the street we were based. Now I know what everyone's idea of Hollywood is mostly based upon. Gleaming mansions, movie premieres and beautiful people- to a certain extent that is true, I'll explain about it shortly. The reality though is that we have never come across as many freaks as we have done in the past four days, not even in Fratton. I know we were based on Hollyword Boulevard, an area known for it's depravity, but it's almost as if all of the freaks of the world meet there for their annual convention. We passed one guy, amongst many others, who was stark bollock naked apart from a sign covering his modesty that read, 'I'm the naked ghetto prince, spank my ass for a dollar'. Unfortunately he had one of those walks that suggested the he accepted much more...
Unfortunately it isn't just Hollywood boulevard that monopolises the down and outs. In a striking lament of the US social model it is the gap between rich and poor, the grave area between the haves and the have nots that is so abundantly shocking. In one moment you could be nearly mowed down by an idiot in a Ferrari whilst witnessing a homeless guy sucking the meat of a chicken drumstick he found at the bottom of a bin. There is, not just in Hollywood, a huge population of homeless people. Ten or fifteen times the amount you would find in London.
On our first full day there I think we instantly got a good idea of what it was all about. We checked out the avenue of stars and found all the best names and wondered as we walked in what particular order they put the names? some, like the Sammy Davis Jnr's and the guys that landed on the moon, were really far from the centre, the sight of most of the tourists. Weirdly, some of the names that featured so prominently, Shakira, the Jonas Brothers, had ultimate positions right in the centre. is this indicative of American culture that recent manufactured pop artists take centre stage over scientific and musical pioneers?? Whichever way you look at it, Sammy Davis Jnr must be turning in his grave knowing his star stinks of piss while Justin Bieber's gets a weekly touch up.
Later on that day we noticed quite a large crowd gathering outside the Kodak theatre, the site of the Oscars. After a while the police closed the road but we still had no idea why? We then noticed a few people who had been waiting were carrying posters of Tom Cruise, things started to fall into place. After a while long black cars started to arrive. All of a sudden a cacophony of noise started from a hundred metres down the street. Whisperings through the crowd suggested it was the king of Hollywood himself, we weren't too sure. They were right. To be fair to Mr Cruise he worked his way through the crowd talking to absolutely everyone. You gotta hand it to the guy.
After a while he made it up to our way where, with shello holding on to my legs, I managed to get a papparazzi-quality photo atop a bicycle stand, I think there's a future there somewhere... From there we stopped for traditional food and beer at a small back street place run by a quartet of cheerful Mexicans where we gorged on packed burritos and guacamole. The prices, like all of the food we had since leaving Fiji, was incredibly cheap. Plus the quality (and size!) where infinitely better which made these two hungry backpackers extremely happy! After a night of trying to ignore the distant sound of gunfire, engines the size of Panzer tanks and nonsensical homeless noises we were up the next morning for the start of our LA 'tour'.
The tour would take us as close to the famous Hollywood sign as was possible then through the Avenue of Stars, Beverley Hills and Bell Air for all those star homes and then through West LA to the beach neighbourhoods of Santa Monica and Venice Beach. It was a great day for the tour, cloudless a skies and warm sun and we had an absolute blast. Like on any tour we never really got enough time in any one place but then hey, we definitely saw the highlights. The star homes were in the most part, secluded away behind large high gates but at least it gave you a tantalising glimpse of the exclusive lifestyles these aliens lead. I.e completely closed off from the real world.
After making our way yet again through endless streets we made our way to Santa Monica beach, home of Baywatch which was actually a really clean and expansively attractive beach. From there we travelled onwards towards Venice Beach, probably one of the most insane stretches of beach anywhere in the world. We compared it to the most strangely weird sides of Brighton or Camden but on reality it was on a different planet. We passed a guy who didn't talk but meowed, a very old black guy dressed only in tight leather y-fronts carrying a ghetto blaster....you get the picture. It was fantastic to see plus we had the greatest 'slice' of pizza we have ever had, shell was in heaven!! Oh and 'slice' being a quarter of a pizza!...
Before we were dropped back at the hotel we stopped for an hour on Rodeo Drive, LA's most exclusive shopping district. Looking like two people who had been on the road for two months (in fact shell looked amazing as usual-damn her!!) we didn't try on any Gucci or Prada but we did have a toilet stop in the famous hotel where Richard Gere met Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. Sone things you have to do...
The day after, with our flight to Vegas not till 9pm we had the day to explore as we wished. We started walking from the hotel and within a few minutes we had stumbled upon a huge side street farmers Market. We love farmers markets, they are essentially one of the greatest creations modern human beings can muster. Happy weekend people with a deep love of locally sourced and nutritious food at cheap prices. Fantastic. We strolled around for what seemed like hours. We feasted on a hot sausage quesadilla which, after ordering a half size, fed the two of us completely. From there we strolled around West Hollywoods backstreets and stumbled upon a glitch of pubs selling delicious micro-brewed local ales. The girl behind the bar gave us a free tasting of most before we plumped for a couple and whiled away the day sat in the beautiful sunshine. It was the perfect end to a sublime four days in LA, a place which I was convinced I would dislike but in the end was one of the highlights of our trip.
It is, in most senses, both beautiful and hideous in equal measure but I guess that's what makes it so unique. The best bit...watching every bloke stare at shell slack-jawed. She's still got it...x Anyway, Vegas baby!!!! Tommo and shello xxxx
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