LA – part 1
We bounced down at a smoggy LAX at local time 5pm, landing alongside flights from Sydney and Japan. Once we got through the usual snarly jobsworth passport dudes, we saw the full extent of the chaos. The whole baggage carousel area was one big conga of frazzled people queuing to escape. We knew it didn’t auger well for the traffic situation outside. When we got to the customs bit we could see what the problem was. There were about thirty Japanese people looking mortified as the officials rifled through their exploded suitcases.
What was their crime? Smuggling bizarre foodstuffs. Ok deli counter meats? Fine. Milky drinks? Not strictly allowed but we’ll let you off. But what perplexed us the most was the eggs. Not a half a dozen in an egg box but two random, fragile, hen’s eggs hidden in a nice lady’s posh suitcase. Maybe they actually had chickens in them? Who knows…
At the car rental place the clerk tried to bamboozle us with car specs and pictures of Hum-Vs, attempting to convince us that we wouldn’t even be able to see the sea if we insisted on hiring the lame-o Hyundai. When that didn’t work he said our suitcases wouldn’t fit in the trunk when we could have fitted both cases and climbed inside ourselves it was that roomy. Americans are mental about cars - especially when on commission.
We made it to the hotel with relative ease, barring some jerk-off who shouted “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, YOU CRAZY BITCHES?!” when we were merely a little slow in following the traffic stream at a junction.
The hotel was at Venice Beach and we had a lovely stroll along the beach. I wasn’t really expecting the seasideyness of it all, or to be able to see the stars or that there’d be anywhere that you could escape the noise of the traffic. But it was really breezy, dark and tranquil. That is until a car blew up.
Ambling along towards Santa Monica we saw some local yoot skittering around this burning car near the beach. “Erm – surely that can’t be sensible” we said in our prim English way. “GET THE HELL AWAY FROM THE CAR BEFORE IT BLOWS UP” came a voice from within a squillion dollar beach house. The fire was spreading and the car now totally done for, the teenagers still within a few feet of it, seemingly daring each other to get closer. We weren’t sure if we were unduly influenced by our proximity to Hollywood but we didn’t want to carry on walking in case there was a huge fireball. After a few minutes some locals started to gather on the sidewalk. “Has anyone called 911?” A mother of three asked. Hmm yes we probably should have done that. There was a bit of mild panicking about how to describe the location of the fire to emergency services and wasn’t everyone busy dealing with the forest fires? We edged back and edged back in our rubbernecking way. Then the car blew up. It was pretty loud and dramatic but it wasn’t a huge fireball that threw us to the ground like Vin Diesel. Shortly afterwards the fire brigade turned up and put the car out in seconds. We rubberneckers dispersed and we headed back towards the hotel.
On the way back we gawped in the windows and patio doors of the squillion dollar beach houses. There were plenty of deep shag carpets and baby grand pianos. We passed a handsome black guy stood in the doorway drinking a beer. “I know it was you” he said “Huh?” “Said I know it was you that lit the fire”. We started giggling and he grinned “I called 911 and said there’s a coupla girls, one has a red purse, saw them walking one way and when they came back a car was on fire”. Good opening gambit.
He introduced himself as Kermit, a music producer and anglophile. He’d been to England twice “Once for Ascot and just recently for Wimbledon”. Alright for some! He was clearly minted. He told us where the authentic bars and Mexican restaurants were and invited us in for a beer. We politely declined but took his card and said we might come dancing with him on Sunset Strip on Saturday. We gave ourselves double California points for consorting with the locals and went off to find the authentic Mexican place before we crashed out at a respectable 10.30pm.
