Wannabe writer/critic currently selling PCs - and my soul - at PC World. Spent a lot of time crashi...
Wannabe writer/critic currently selling PCs - and my soul - at PC World. Spent a lot of time crashing intellectual parties in Prague. Now being nice on Ciao! UK.
Member since:13.12.2000
Reviews:116
Members who trust:39
Let me tell you now - this is a very jaundiced view of LA. I totally admit that in the two days we were there, we didn't have nearly enough time to visit the city's sights and get a fully rounded view of the city of angels. But what we saw was enough to make sure we'll avoid visiting there again...next time we'll fly into San Francisco, San Diego, or straight into Vegas!
The eleven hour flight to LA passed....eventually...in the same way you know grief will pass. Luckily, due to my sister's fear of flying, we were upgraded to business class. We needed it. If you can afford to fly business, or if you need to re-mortgage your house in order to do so, do it. We were jammed in steerage with all the other citizens on the way back, and we felt like we were never going to get off that craft alive. Business class is definitely the way to travel.
On arrival in LA, we had to pick up our rental car from a depot in Inglewood. Our perceptions of LA were slightly hazed by what we'd seen on TV. Gangstas. Bloods and Crips. Rodney King. Race violence. We made it to the car rental place without getting raped or shot, and climbed into a silver Buick bigger than our back garden.
We then had to learn to drive in the middle of this ghetto. LA isn't the best place to learn to drive all over again. On one occasion, we nearly took the flank out of a gangsta's car at the traffic lights. He looked across at us, mean and lethal, considered shooting us and stealing our luggage, then turned his stereo up further and tore away down the street. That was a scary moment. We might aswell have driven round with a big neon sign on the roof saying, "TOURISTS - MUG HERE".
Somehow we made it along La Cienega up to West Hollywood, where our Ramada Hotel was waiting for us. One peculiar feature was that all the furniture in the reception was made out of glass, so on your way across to the elevators, you keep whacking your shins on virtually invisible coffee tables.
The jet-lag wasted us. At three in the morning we were wide awake. The time warp logistics of losing hours and gaining hours during air travel were always beyond me, and I couldn't get my head round it. Back home, they were all sipping their second cup of coffee of the morning. By midday the next day, we were ready for bed.
We emerged into a pastel Los Angeles morning. We were the only people out walking on the streets. The only other people who go by foot in LA are other Europeans and the joggers. It's an incredibly vain city - every other shop is a gym or tanning parlour. Our trip round a fashion mall left us miserable. These shiny LA types all seemed to have extra money to blow on designer goods, while we could barely afford a pair of socks. This made us feel like poor European cousins.
Hollywood was just like it looks on TV - stars on the pavement, Manns Chinese Theatre, hand prints in concrete. Everything like on TV, but with extra fag ends and chewing gum stuck to it. I expected areas of LA, such as Hollywood, to be immaculate, vanilla-scented and clean, but it wasn't. It was just like London with palm trees.
The next morning, after a great breakfast in a Happy Days-style diner, we duelled our way out of LA and out across the desert towards Vegas. Some people love Los Angeles, but I'll avoid it if I possibly can...
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Dec 27th, 2000
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