Here are all the pics
Hot tar and petrol faintly in the air. City smell. Chubby, sweet Mexican baby boy playing timid peekaboo on the blue plastic seats of the airport shuttle bus.
Get the slip and choose your car, any car from this lot right there. You mean I choose any car from this bit of the parking lot? Yes any car, keys are inside. Connecting phone to the sound system a number one priority, for all the driving. The black one looks cool but the orangey red one does what we need it to do, after it’s chosen we bond. Driving on the right, try to remember. It’s the right.
Tired buzzy jetlag haze, excited driving through busy traffic remembering on the right. Oversized pickup trucks with two too many wheels. Bumpers the size of big steel oven toasters bearing down on us and the road. Lanes and lanes, and then another lane. Slip roads then slipped onto a more laned motorway. It’s 6pm rush hour everyone driving home in LA but there’s still space on the road for more toaster ovens. Some things look like stop signs but aren’t, a need for stop sign but there isn’t one there, wits are at the burnt end.
Scotts house on the smaller streets with trees and squat lime green ferns and pavement plants. A big shady tree! But the spot is taken. Shade becomes a priority as well as parking. There’s an empty house down the road with furniture outside, the one that hasn’t grown up into Silverlake neighbourhood yet by getting fancy. That’s not our house. Danny says he’s never seen furniture just out on the pavement like that. Park in tight.
Scott’s voice bellows from inside the blue gate and inside he’s hanging up the conversation and comes in close to hear the meek travel frazzled version of our English greeting. Come in closer still, he’s hard of hearing. Warm wooden balcony with cushions. Our room is all bed and old fashioned writing desk and writing desk nicknacks. The walls are green and cool and the bed has a pretend iron post that might fall on you in the night. We like it. There is a strong whiff of dog and art on the walls. Scott calls the dog who comes up the hidden stairs with effort. A big, white curly haired body and a whipper snapper tail, with a tiny head as if it had a head transplant with a tiny weird dog. He is a whiffy dog but we don’t mind.
Shower and out the house at dusk, walking towards Sunset Boulevard, hungry and excited to be in that place from all those songs. Streets wide and empty now, everything with a warm pinkish glow like the skies they tell you about California, you know California skies? Those ones. Scott told us about his favourite places, we pass one that makes hand cooked burgers with special local things but it’s in a kind of parking lot that’s going to be knocked down to create kitschy flats Scott had snarled. We go to Forage for two veggie sides and a protein… very LA 2 veg 1 protein said Scott. It’s our first time purchasing how do we tip, we’re so conscious of tipping, it’s 15% but we almost tip way too much which was also all wrong then get confused then don’t tip, the guy behind the counter is looking at us. We did it wrong, quick go eat. We feel nourished by the home cooked-ness and ginger ice tea especially after United Airlines food which was food hell in a nightmare.
LA is dreamy warm orangey fuzzy from traffic fumes and famous street names. Nothing good happens at The Thirsty Crow so we go there, a darkened goth bar playing opposing music bad 90s indie pop that was everyone’s guilty pleasure and you could see the humming. A girl with an open back top at the bar that was so open I saw some outer boob. Cocktails sharp citrus ginger and orange and icy glasses. Eyes so heavy now and there’s always and definitely tomorrow. Call the Uber it’s a lady in a cap and an SUV, extra cash job she tells us on 8 min drive home.
First night wakes me up at 2am seeing a green light on a porch in the distance. I dream that whoever has the green light on their porch that night needs to put on a show and so it’s our turn to put on a show and invite the neighbours if you have the green light that’s what they do in Silverlake, in my dream that is. That was Thurs night.
Friday buy a steel string guitar and some summer clothes and a hat maybe. First breakfast and and we look for the good places, if there’s smashed avocado it’s on. Settle on a place another 8 min drive, driving round for 20 mins around the same block to find parking. There are large swathes of parking but signs say no parking street cleaning Fri 8am-10am and it’s Fri 9am now. There is a huge blue bluer than the now blue sky CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY it’s written. The whole building is an art deco capital letter. Driving into a parking lot, success! No it’s for the Scientologists only the nice conservatively dressed people we were backing into tell us. A smiley nice security man on a bicycle seems like he deals with the the likes of us, weary hungry and slightly delirious confused we ask with hint of desperation is there any parking around here?? He points a calm point right in front of us to a spot we’ve driven past 20 times on our 20 times around the block. He cycles around the big blue SCIENTOLOGY centre like the Truman Show always smiling and never breaking a sweat.
Hot tar and petrol faintly in the air. City smell. Chubby, sweet Mexican baby boy playing timid peekaboo on the blue plastic seats of the airport shuttle bus.
Get the slip and choose your car, any car from this lot right there. You mean I choose any car from this bit of the parking lot? Yes any car, keys are inside. Connecting phone to the sound system a number one priority, for all the driving. The black one looks cool but the orangey red one does what we need it to do, after it’s chosen we bond. Driving on the right, try to remember. It’s the right.
Tired buzzy jetlag haze, excited driving through busy traffic remembering on the right. Oversized pickup trucks with two too many wheels. Bumpers the size of big steel oven toasters bearing down on us and the road. Lanes and lanes, and then another lane. Slip roads then slipped onto a more laned motorway. It’s 6pm rush hour everyone driving home in LA but there’s still space on the road for more toaster ovens. Some things look like stop signs but aren’t, a need for stop sign but there isn’t one there, wits are at the burnt end.
Scotts house on the smaller streets with trees and squat lime green ferns and pavement plants. A big shady tree! But the spot is taken. Shade becomes a priority as well as parking. There’s an empty house down the road with furniture outside, the one that hasn’t grown up into Silverlake neighbourhood yet by getting fancy. That’s not our house. Danny says he’s never seen furniture just out on the pavement like that. Park in tight.
Scott’s voice bellows from inside the blue gate and inside he’s hanging up the conversation and comes in close to hear the meek travel frazzled version of our English greeting. Come in closer still, he’s hard of hearing. Warm wooden balcony with cushions. Our room is all bed and old fashioned writing desk and writing desk nicknacks. The walls are green and cool and the bed has a pretend iron post that might fall on you in the night. We like it. There is a strong whiff of dog and art on the walls. Scott calls the dog who comes up the hidden stairs with effort. A big, white curly haired body and a whipper snapper tail, with a tiny head as if it had a head transplant with a tiny weird dog. He is a whiffy dog but we don’t mind.
Shower and out the house at dusk, walking towards Sunset Boulevard, hungry and excited to be in that place from all those songs. Streets wide and empty now, everything with a warm pinkish glow like the skies they tell you about California, you know California skies? Those ones. Scott told us about his favourite places, we pass one that makes hand cooked burgers with special local things but it’s in a kind of parking lot that’s going to be knocked down to create kitschy flats Scott had snarled. We go to Forage for two veggie sides and a protein… very LA 2 veg 1 protein said Scott. It’s our first time purchasing how do we tip, we’re so conscious of tipping, it’s 15% but we almost tip way too much which was also all wrong then get confused then don’t tip, the guy behind the counter is looking at us. We did it wrong, quick go eat. We feel nourished by the home cooked-ness and ginger ice tea especially after United Airlines food which was food hell in a nightmare.
LA is dreamy warm orangey fuzzy from traffic fumes and famous street names. Nothing good happens at The Thirsty Crow so we go there, a darkened goth bar playing opposing music bad 90s indie pop that was everyone’s guilty pleasure and you could see the humming. A girl with an open back top at the bar that was so open I saw some outer boob. Cocktails sharp citrus ginger and orange and icy glasses. Eyes so heavy now and there’s always and definitely tomorrow. Call the Uber it’s a lady in a cap and an SUV, extra cash job she tells us on 8 min drive home.
First night wakes me up at 2am seeing a green light on a porch in the distance. I dream that whoever has the green light on their porch that night needs to put on a show and so it’s our turn to put on a show and invite the neighbours if you have the green light that’s what they do in Silverlake, in my dream that is. That was Thurs night.
Friday buy a steel string guitar and some summer clothes and a hat maybe. First breakfast and and we look for the good places, if there’s smashed avocado it’s on. Settle on a place another 8 min drive, driving round for 20 mins around the same block to find parking. There are large swathes of parking but signs say no parking street cleaning Fri 8am-10am and it’s Fri 9am now. There is a huge blue bluer than the now blue sky CHURCH OF SCIENTOLOGY it’s written. The whole building is an art deco capital letter. Driving into a parking lot, success! No it’s for the Scientologists only the nice conservatively dressed people we were backing into tell us. A smiley nice security man on a bicycle seems like he deals with the the likes of us, weary hungry and slightly delirious confused we ask with hint of desperation is there any parking around here?? He points a calm point right in front of us to a spot we’ve driven past 20 times on our 20 times around the block. He cycles around the big blue SCIENTOLOGY centre like the Truman Show always smiling and never breaking a sweat.
Breakfast has all the words we like, like avocado eggs corn cakes with a Mexican hipster health nut twist. Square One, easy to miss but just look for the SCIENTOLOGY palace across the way. The waiters are achingly cool and the water comes in iced glass bottles. They might be the ones that people say are actors who wait on you in LA.
More big wide warm street driving with palm trees to Guitar Centre. Seems like a warehouse and not that exciting and we slip in a side door and what was there was beyond our comprehension, a giant warehouse world of all the guitars, yellow wood lines the walls and makes rooms and rooms of cool in temperature rich in wood and strings, smelling guitar heaven. Danny starts to scurry between them even seasoned guitar players try hard but can’t tell the difference really between the expensive vintage been around the block in hands of masters guitars and the newer kids on the block guitars, not in sound anyway. We drink in guitars until we’re drunk on guitars,wandering from room to room fondling and gazing, so many woody colours and sounds.
I hand him guitars and we do a taste test close your eyes just listen and feel. It’s comes down to 3, I already have my favourite. The game is eyes closed but he peaks. Adam the Guitar Centre guy has his favourite too and has a story about the wood and it’s special and that clinches it. In the excitement a soft wooly guitar strap and even some plectrums are thrown in the bag. There is a worry about tax on the way home but that turns out okay.
Everyone says don’t but we do head to Hollywood Boulevard to the main star street. Parking in the bowels of the earth makes my heart skip a beat but we come out into golden sunshine in a mall where you can see the Hollywood sign from a giant stone bed. There is a Donald Trump star on the star walkway but I don’t let Danny take a picture, I get one with the Kermit the Frog star instead. There are street performers doing Disney guises some in an average way and some were okay. There’s music and people but still not as near as busy as London so it's easy. I buy a floaty white thing and a kind of frilly blue thing that make appearances later.
Some also say don’t go to Santa Monica Pier too many tourists they say so we go. A long drive but the need for beach is strong. Lured into a $30 parking lot but back out and find a $4 one on the street. The Pier looks just right, oh just right so we make our way to Sun! Sea! Sand! I see my now favourite street performer he sings funk and soul and we have a dance and get right into the sunshine.
The pier is buzzing and it’s time for a snack and we get the snack of the century. A cold fizzy herby ale and a fish taco from The Albion. The taco is made more delicious by the sun, sunny food fresh battered fish on a bed of fresh crunchy salad with rice and beans on the side to boot… I almost break down and cry it’s so good. The beach is windy but we give it a go and buy some mango from a beach selling man but it turns out to be all cucumber. We give the sun a chance but the wind get’s the better so another stroll on the pier and it’s warmer there, there’s a rock and roll Jesus doing Pink Floyd. ALLLRIGHT! In a drawl just as you would imagine a drawl… Rock and Roll Jesus! That’s something I can get into says a rough looking man swaying down the deck. The people watching him have an array of expressions and it makes me chuckle. He has 5 different buckets to leave tips but some people take pictures but leave no tip and he keeps rocking.
video of Rock and Roll Jesus
I do some yoga moves on the exercise patch which looks like tarmac but it's actually soft and squishy, and there's a grass patch too and there are people doing all kinds of crazy yoga type moves, also lifting themselves up by their arms onto metal rings that hang from metal poles in the exercise playground. It's so nice to fall and fall again and land on squishy tarmac like in the cartoons.
I have in mind that I want to see the sunset from Griffith Observatory, only an hours drive through thick lanes of traffic but we get there only for it to remind me of Cape Town Signal Hill but much bigger. Exactly the same winding road and trees and cars heading towards a sunset armed with something fizzy and perhaps fruity too. The cars were piling up and we go round and round the merry-go-round until we screech into a parking feeling smug but then look up a hill of 20 minutes or walking with the sun orange and sinking around us. The view of the city stretches below but it's impossible to feel the expanse of it, up and up winding up until eventually at the top that orange light! The orange light of California and Hollywood Hills as the sun sinks and becomes pink and orange and casts it's hazy cloak over the jet-lagged lazy eyed grinning faces. The city you're not supposed to see because of all the smog and there's no seeing it all tonight, after being revived by Earl Grey tea (o saviour!) it stretches out like a table at the end of a 21st birthday party with cake crumbs, sparkles, glitter strewn around and you can't see the end of it through that LA haze.
There are big plans to go out in LA on a Fri night but after the driving, the tacos, the dancing, the falling like cartoons there's no staying up past 9pm. It's crash and burn.
Next morning it's up early 7am still the jet-lag but lots of exciting things to do. Milly's Cafe has been in Silverlake for 30 years and it's all Mexican mixed with American with spicy eggs and syrupy pancakes and filter coffee. Silverlake Sat market is just across the road and it's setting up... so many organic bright juicy ripe fruit and dark green orange and purple vegetables I want to stuff my face even though it's already stuffed. Everyone is friendly offering samples so many things I've never tried but instantly love, I fall madly head over heels in love with vegan cream cheese made from fermented cashew nuts that we pack into our ice bag and take on the road with some hard brown German biscuits. If it's the last thing I do I will find that garlic and truffle cashew nut cheese and eat it until I turn into it. The friendliness of the girl at the stall is still overwhelming almost like when you're at a music festival everyone is smiling and friendly and wants you to have a nice time except everyone is like that all the time here.
I have an idea, why don't we do yoga in Beverly Hills that way we can see those big houses and do some celeb spotting we might spot Madonna or Tom Cruise - I think they like Scientology and we just saw their palace so they might be around. Hot Power Yoga 75 mins sounds perfect it will help the jet-lag woo woo let's do it. It's costing the world with towels and mats and visitor's rates but woo woo get in there yeah. Oh, it's really hot but the teacher is good, steady and confident we can't disappoint, there is a big start with big energy but soon the stars start forming and the nausea sets in I'm such a wimp it's only 30 mins to go but run to the bathroom I go and I feel an earthquake through my feet, no one else moves and I feel the shaking and realise it's my own disco legs shaking like jelly. No more woo the plan failed. There is icy water with fresh mint and some salty flakes for re-hydration on the side and I down five or so cups.
Time to hit the road to the Sierra Nevada mountain range and... Lone Pine.
video of Rock and Roll Jesus
I do some yoga moves on the exercise patch which looks like tarmac but it's actually soft and squishy, and there's a grass patch too and there are people doing all kinds of crazy yoga type moves, also lifting themselves up by their arms onto metal rings that hang from metal poles in the exercise playground. It's so nice to fall and fall again and land on squishy tarmac like in the cartoons.
I have in mind that I want to see the sunset from Griffith Observatory, only an hours drive through thick lanes of traffic but we get there only for it to remind me of Cape Town Signal Hill but much bigger. Exactly the same winding road and trees and cars heading towards a sunset armed with something fizzy and perhaps fruity too. The cars were piling up and we go round and round the merry-go-round until we screech into a parking feeling smug but then look up a hill of 20 minutes or walking with the sun orange and sinking around us. The view of the city stretches below but it's impossible to feel the expanse of it, up and up winding up until eventually at the top that orange light! The orange light of California and Hollywood Hills as the sun sinks and becomes pink and orange and casts it's hazy cloak over the jet-lagged lazy eyed grinning faces. The city you're not supposed to see because of all the smog and there's no seeing it all tonight, after being revived by Earl Grey tea (o saviour!) it stretches out like a table at the end of a 21st birthday party with cake crumbs, sparkles, glitter strewn around and you can't see the end of it through that LA haze.
There are big plans to go out in LA on a Fri night but after the driving, the tacos, the dancing, the falling like cartoons there's no staying up past 9pm. It's crash and burn.
Next morning it's up early 7am still the jet-lag but lots of exciting things to do. Milly's Cafe has been in Silverlake for 30 years and it's all Mexican mixed with American with spicy eggs and syrupy pancakes and filter coffee. Silverlake Sat market is just across the road and it's setting up... so many organic bright juicy ripe fruit and dark green orange and purple vegetables I want to stuff my face even though it's already stuffed. Everyone is friendly offering samples so many things I've never tried but instantly love, I fall madly head over heels in love with vegan cream cheese made from fermented cashew nuts that we pack into our ice bag and take on the road with some hard brown German biscuits. If it's the last thing I do I will find that garlic and truffle cashew nut cheese and eat it until I turn into it. The friendliness of the girl at the stall is still overwhelming almost like when you're at a music festival everyone is smiling and friendly and wants you to have a nice time except everyone is like that all the time here.
I have an idea, why don't we do yoga in Beverly Hills that way we can see those big houses and do some celeb spotting we might spot Madonna or Tom Cruise - I think they like Scientology and we just saw their palace so they might be around. Hot Power Yoga 75 mins sounds perfect it will help the jet-lag woo woo let's do it. It's costing the world with towels and mats and visitor's rates but woo woo get in there yeah. Oh, it's really hot but the teacher is good, steady and confident we can't disappoint, there is a big start with big energy but soon the stars start forming and the nausea sets in I'm such a wimp it's only 30 mins to go but run to the bathroom I go and I feel an earthquake through my feet, no one else moves and I feel the shaking and realise it's my own disco legs shaking like jelly. No more woo the plan failed. There is icy water with fresh mint and some salty flakes for re-hydration on the side and I down five or so cups.
Time to hit the road to the Sierra Nevada mountain range and... Lone Pine.
