Sunday 11 December 2016

In which Roz and Layla bike, hike and go to lots of shows in Los Angeles

by Roz

Regular readers of this blog will remember that for years I despised LA.  I’d visited it quite a bit for work, and frequently described it as my least favourite American city.  You’ll also remember that back in August I found out how very wrong I was and after a holiday there, went to the opposite extreme: I became an LA obsessive.  I was therefore a bit nervous about going to LA this time around, for fear of reverting to my original view (I can be very changeable).  I used this as an excellent excuse for suggesting we Uber direct to the flat we were to stay in from Fullerton (where the bus from Palm Springs had deposited us) so that we could have an enjoyable evening rather than sitting for ages at a cold station to get all the way to our apartment by public transport.  This proved an excellent choice, and we were happy to soon find ourselves first back in our old Venice home, popping into the nearby Wholefoods and then to a local hipster vegetarian restaurant, the Butcher’s Daughter.  We both usually shun vegetarian restaurants since they incline to the worthy (and I can’t really cope with too much choice on a menu – it’s too unfamiliar) but the quick meal we’d had last time around had given me an enthusiasm to return for proper dinner and this proved to be an excellent choice.  As did the cocktails.  We wandered home afterwards congratulating ourselves on an excellent start to the second part of our holiday. 

Next morning, we peered out of our front door and were somewhat dismayed to see that it looked a little cloudy and chilly.  However, not liking to be deterred, we set off on a cycle to the Venice boardwalk via the highly cool Google building which is shaped like binoculars.  I was so enthused to get a good picture, that I went to the other side of the road to take a photo of Layla in front of it, meaning that she was stuck on the other side, with our two bikes and powerless to move when a tour bus came by to take photos of the same building.  Personally I thought that having Layla and the bikes standing guard in front of the building improved the numerous photographs taken from that tour bus…I hope the inhabitants of said bus (and all their friends and family who will get to see her) shared my view. 

By the time we got down to the boardwalk (ie less than 10 minutes after leaving the house) the sun was shining and the sky perfectly blue.  I could enjoy living in this kind of climate.  We delightedly cycled along, revelling in the feeling of cycling along a beach (the boardwalk makes it feel almost as though you are cycling on the sand). After a very long time, including a necessary deviation on to the road (which I did not enjoy since I forgot how to brake properly and nearly came to a sticky end), we were still loving the cycle but becoming increasingly interested in lunch.  Ah, dilemmas, dilemmas, we wanted to return to a salad-ey place we’d enjoyed last time, but that was far far away.  Me and Yelp came to the rescue, and I plonked Layla in a convenient spot and hiked up a steep San Francisco-type hill to a charming road where I found a pretentious bakery to procure an interim solution (lunch 1, if you will). I was tempted to explore all the other fancy shops there, but Layla was waiting – and she was hungry. Sated, we continued cycling for a bit, before reluctantly turning back 6 miles before the end of the amazing cycle track.  Next time we really will make it the whole way to the end…

En route back we stopped for salad then frozen yoghurt (something I’ve not yet found in Tokyo) and then headed to La Louve gallery, which we pottered around briefly.  It’s famous and had a number of LA artists showing their work at the moment, but not exactly to either of our tastes.  From there we headed up to Abbott Kinney, named the hippest road in the US, where we deposited our bikes and pottered in and out of shops.  My favourite was a dog clothes shop (Kaseki is currently roaming naked in Tokyo and this surely needs to be remedied) but we generally enjoyed ourselves looking at beautiful and expensive things and buying none of them.  

We headed home thereafter, for a brief rest before Ubering to Hollywood for our evening’s entertainment: a Moth Mainstage show.  We already had the extortionately expensive tickets for this storytelling show, so when we arrived we decided to take the risk of not getting good seats in order to wolf down a brief dinner in a nearby salad-soup place (though Layla complained bitterly when I made her have soup because I thought this would be quickest, pronouncing both then and later that “soup isn’t proper dinner”).  Regardless, we polished it off, then made our way into the beautiful Avalon theatre – an art deco theatre that glistens and makes you feel as though you are in a different era.  This being a curated show, I didn’t have the usual feeling of anxiety that I normally experience when we go to an open-mic style Moth storytelling show: Layla always puts her name in the hat when she gets a chance, dooming me to spending the whole show feeling far more anxious than she does about the possibility that she may be called.  So this show was quite restful, in many ways…. The stories were great, ranging from the Beckenham hairdresser who ended up doing the hair of her nice client Mrs Jones’s son (who turned out to be David Bowie), to the Iranian-American who’d fallen foul of US Iran sanctions, to the son of a mountaineer who kept being subjected to seeing his father’s death fictionalised in film.  We then went – probably for the only time in our lives – to the after party.  The only tickets I’d been able to acquire had, as I’ve mentioned, been horribly expensive and as part of that, involved an after-party.  We are not really after-party kind of people but we are stingy.  We therefore went along to a beautifully cool venue in the theatre, nabbed a seat like old ladies, and then devoured the vegetarian sausage rolls and tofu pies on offer. So “proper dinner” was had in the end. All in all an excellent night. 

Next morning, we set off to Malibu for a hike in Solstice Canyon.  Uber really has transformed the LA experience since as non-car drivers none of these places would be accessible to us.  The hike was beautiful and deserted, and the first three quarters was ridiculously easy – so we spent the hike debating our options for the future (where shall we live, what jobs shall we do and such like).  We then decided to add on a bit more to the hike and found ourselves going uphill fairly sharply and without enthusiasm.  Eventually, noting the lack of lunch options we decided to turn back and immediately liked the hike again (because we were now going downhill – sigh, it’s a shame to be predictable).  Still, back at the trailhead we summoned another Uber and headed  to the Getty Center, famous for being a beautiful – and free – art museum spread over several buildings up on a hill overlooking the city. Out of the Uber, we hopped into the special tram that conveyed us up said hill to the museum and then dashed frantically to the café to get there before they stopped serving lunch.  Lunch successfully consumed (ah delicious tofu burritos) we meandered round the museum, enjoying the photography and recognising the odd Picasso etc, before pausing before an anti-war Manet that we both liked.  We then pottered in the garden, which was delightful if chilly, before heading home. 

We had a quick dinner at home before heading into downtown (by a complicated metro route that was not a success) to see a new musical version of Amelie.  This was terrific with a Kneehigh vibe (for those of you who know English theatre) and I loved it.  There’s probably not enough plot in it for it to be a successful musical on Broadway (which is where this production is headed now – ha, bet this is famous last words) but it was very nicely done, and entirely charming.  It made me miss English language theatre with vigour: alas.  We hopped in an Uber home, and went to a local Mexican restaurant for a pre-bed drink. 

Next morning, we headed to Griffith Observatory and went hiking up Mt Hollywood for close-up views of the Hollywood sign.  I’d originally intended to take us behind the sign – something you see people doing in the movies – but we got distracted by hearing of the delights of the Observatory.  It was cheery to hike and see tons of locals out and about (though why weren’t they all working?) with their dogs.  And the glamour of the Hollywood sign doesn’t really wear off.  Well not for me anyway.  On this occasion we’d had the forethought to bring sandwiches with us and so we ate them at the top of Mount Hollywood, in the sunshine.  Delightful.  We then headed down to the Observatory, which was beautiful outside and in.  We went to the planetarium, where we found that show had live narration, which struck me as surprising and presumably expensive.  I was struck that in many ways the narration sounded like a plea for investment in climate change and dark matter research – so perhaps in these times where such things are so political in America it may end up convenient that the narration can be so easily changed.  We then hiked down to the bottom of the park, stopping for tea and apple pie in the nearby outdoor café before Ubering home. 

We had a quick dinner at home again today, before heading to Santa Monica to go to the cinema to see Arrival (a sci fi film with Amy Adams, which only came to Tokyo for 5 minutes so we didn’t get a chance to see it).  We both enjoyed it, though disliked the main character for her excellent linguistic abilities (as is only reasonable of us, given the state of our Japanese despite putting in just as much effort as she did to learn the alien language!).  We then went to a lovely wine bar where we had cheese and wine and cocktails and felt intrigued that everyone else in that venue was clearly on a date other than a solitary man with a very large pink bow tie (we suspected he’d been stood up).

Our final morning felt somewhat bleak: last days are not my favourite.  Looking at the somewhat grey sky, we ditched a plan to go rowing in a lake in Echo Park (it sounded too depressing) and instead headed to explore a new area (for us) – the downtown arts district.  This felt a bit like Bloomingdale (for Washingtonians) or Shoreditch (for Londoners) or Kiyosumi (for Tokyoites).  As the sky became blue, we settled down in a hipster coffee shop for coffee (and, um, avocado toast) and admired the passing dogs and moustaches.  We then pottered around the area in artsy bookshops and pretentious dog stores (Kaseki now has a plaid / tartan coat to don on Monday) before walking to proper downtown to have lunch (avocado toast not counting) in Grand Central market – and more coffee.  Also to read our books.  We then popped into one of our favourite bookstores of all time – the Last Bookshop – before heading to Union Station for a walking tour. On the downside, the walking tour mainly took us to places we’d been.  On the upside, we learned loads that we hadn’t and saw lots of things that we’d failed to notice before.  It was particularly fun going into the LA Times building and admiring Moderne architecture.

It was then almost evening, so we headed to an area called Melrose (west Hollywood ish) for delicious cocktails and some dinner at a brilliant place called the Melrose Umbrella Company.  We resolved during our stint here to become better at Tokyo and love it even more, which is a very good note to end a holiday on.  But before it quite finished, we had one more show to go to – the Groundlings Holiday show.  This was a combination of improv and sketch comedy and though not quite as excellent as similar shows we’ve seen from the Second City (I suspect I missed the political comedy) it was still excellent and a fine Friday evening.  After that, it being 10pm it was time for bed (we really aren’t party animals) ahead of our flight back to Tokyo.  LA: I love you just as much as I did in the summer; we must do this again soon. 

Books we read on this (not very bookish) holiday

Layla: Swing Time by Zadie Smith, part of Tokio Whip by Arturo Silva.

Roz: Swing Time by Zadie Smith, Love Nina by Nina Stubbe, New Woman by Charity Norman, and good progress on David Copperfield by Charles Dickens.



Tuesday 6 December 2016

In which Layla and Roz pretend to be 1950s filmstars and hike in canyons

by Layla

We had decided to holiday in Palm Springs principally because I had a conference near there. TEDMED was scheduled Wednesday to Friday, so I flew to Los Angeles, caught a bus, train, bus and car, then spent three days ensconced in the fancy La Quinta resort with hundreds of health and healthcare innovators all of whom marvelled at my public transport methods of getting to Palm Springs. Then after all that learning, I got a car to downtown Palm Springs where I found Roz just off the plane (and bus and train and bus) and gleefully we leapt into the hotel swimming pool: our holiday had started!

By random chance, our good friends from Washington were visiting Palm Springs that day so no sooner had we got out of the pool, we were being conveyed to their friend’s house for cocktails. We were quite thrilled to find that this was no ordinary house but an amazing mid-century modern house by the same architect who designed one of Frank Sinatra’s houses. It felt exactly like being a 1950s film star. As we were driven back to a restaurant afterwards we marvelled at the amazing architecture in Palm Springs, surrounded by soaring desert hills. This town had style. Also great restaurants. We had a delicious meal, marred only briefly by the embarrassment of our British credit cards not working! Luckily we did not have to wash the dishes and got it all sorted out. What a fabulous first evening.

The next day we jumped in the hotel’s swimming pool and hot tub again: the most appropriate way to start any day. Then, after a tedious episode hunting down a US SIM card for our phone atop bikes, we headed downtown, acquiring coffee and cake at the cool coffeeshop Koffi, a smoothie, and two picnic sandwiches along the way. Forty five minutes of walking brought us to the visitors’ centre for Tahquitz Canyon. We enjoyed our sandwiches at a nice picnic table, and then headed into the canyon for a hike. And it was amazing: such incredible views, colours, and scenery. And much less uphill than the slightly over-vigorous website led me to fear.  A perfect little hike. We Ubered back to the coffeeshop and sat in their charming garden before fighting the crowds to get back to the hotel. Tonight was Palm Springs’ famous parade of lights, and the main road was lined with people perched in anticipation upon camp chairs on both sides. We put on warmer clothes then headed out again for a delicious dinner at Trio punctuated with popping out onto their balcony to see the parade: lots of high school marching bands and dance teams, the mayor, Santa on a fire engine, giant inflatable Christmas tree ornaments… It was massive. After dinner we walked alongside the parade and then far, far (we couldn’t make our phone data work so couldn’t call an Uber) to this beautiful little old cinema called Camelot Theatre, where we watched Loving, before sweet talking the cinema manager into giving us his wifi password so we could call an Uber home.

After the requisite swim and hot tub, the next day was to be another hiking day. So once we fixed our phone data, found a shop that sold sun lotion and bought picnic quiches in Koffi, we hopped in an Uber, destination: Indian Canyons. It all sounded most romantic and sure enough it was. Our hike there was perhaps one of the most perfect we have ever done. Americans, why did you never tell us about the amazing hiking in Palm Springs? We walked to Palm Canyon and to Andreas Canyon (less far than the combination of canyons might suggest) They were genuinely spectacular. And the weather was perfect. Such a delightful day.

We had a post-hike swim, then glammed up and headed out to the Purple Room for some famous dinner theatre. It was The Judy Show, a drag show that we found quite painfully bad. It was clearly the preferred venue for all the heterosexual couples of Palm Springs (who appeared to make up a distinct minority) but wasn’t really for us. However the food was excellent. Afterwards we had a bedtime beer in Cheeky’s. Another excellent Palm Springs day.

This morning the weather was a bit too chilly to swim so we substituted our daily swim with a ridiculous episode of me getting some weirdly painful shampoo in my eye. Then we got yet another Uber, this time to the Tramway, a very cool rotating cablecar that takes you soaring up to Mt San Jacinto State Park. We’d been warned it was much colder up there than in the desert but it was still a bit weird to be suddenly greeted by an alpine scene of fir trees covered in snow! Especially as I was wearing sandals… Undeterred, we slipped and slid our way around a really beautiful two-mile snowy hiking trail, then had lunch at the restaurant which had more spectacular views. Palm Springs has been a revelation: such an amazing mix of modernism, hiking, eating, gay people, style and fabulous scenery. We both fell in love with it and are coveting a return visit for its international film festival… but for now we have waved farewell and are zooming west on a bus – as that’s the kind of classy people we are. Next stop: Los Angeles!