by Roz
Let me be clear. I don’t like LA. I’ve been there several times for work, and
disliked it every time. It’s a massive
city, and everyone travels by car on motorways that are cursed with traffic
jams. You have to travel for at least an hour by car to get everywhere, and
it’s just not fun. Since I’d
determinedly told Layla not to bother joining me on my trips to LA when we
lived in the US, she was a bit surprised when I suggested that we have a couple
of days there on this vacation. But we
couldn’t fly back to Tokyo from Alaska directly, and I’d already considered the
other options without enthusiasm (we’ve been to Seattle quite a lot, and San
Francisco is a bit too European for my tastes).
And in my heart – though I didn’t say this to Layla – I always wondered
whether I was wrong about LA.
I’d booked us into an AirBnB apartment in
Venice, for the proximity to the water and the ease of getting to the
airport. As we arrived in our “hen
house” (a converted garage that was far more charming than it sounds – all
exposed brick, mason jars, and hens clucking in the garden next door), I felt
excited to be seeing a different side of LA.
All the more so when Layla noticed a nearby thrift clothes store called
“Out of the Closet” which had featured prominently in a film we’d seen recently
at the Tokyo Gay Film Festival. LA was
starting to find disconcertingly home-ey.
Though it was quite late, we popped out for a quick drink at a local
watering hole and felt very proud indeed at having got there in time for the
“late” happy hour. The first time such a
thing has happened to us, old ladies that we are. As we sipped a Laguanitas –
my old favourite beer from when we lived in the US – and enjoyed guacamole and
chips, we felt very cheery indeed. But as
we strolled home, I was keen to warn Layla not to be seduced into thinking the
rest out of our time in LA would be like this (“remember, I hate LA, it’s a
terrible city”).
Next morning, I went to Wholefoods for some
supplies. I tried to claim that this was
me being noble, but in fact I just wanted to linger over all the lovely things
that I used to buy (and buy without having to agonise over the meaning of the
label). Back in our new home, I made
breakfast (including eggs fresh from the hens next door) and then headed out on
the slightly alarming one-speed cruiser bikes that the AirBnB person had left
for our use. (I say alarming because I
can never remember how to brake on this kind of bike because I am an
incompetent fool.) We then whizzed down
to the beach in the lovely sunshine (and no humidty) where we found ourselves
on a beautiful bike path that winds right through the beach, alongside the
water for 20-miles. We biked along the beautiful beachfront until we came to
the venue for our first activity of the day: paddleboard yoga. Now Layla doesn’t love yoga, but she does
love paddleboarding (and me, presumably) so this was her excellent suggestion
(even though she only had a very mad outfit indeed to wear that was suitable
for neither paddleboarding nor yoga…nor biking now I think of it). It was superb to be out on the water, and
even though we only got a little paddleboarding time, and the yoga was somewhat
abbreviated we both felt supremely happy.
After this we headed to lunch, in Mendocino
Farm, a delightful salady place that reminded me of many Washington haunts (and
I tried to curb feelings of nostalgia for the place that still feels like
home). We mused on indulging in frozen yoghurt, but foolishly decided that this
wasn’t necessary and continued on with our cycle. The path is mainly right in the middle of the
beach – so you feel like you are flying over sand and that the rest of the
world is very far away. We cycled a few
more miles, and then stopped for ice cream (the frozen yoghurt was seeming very
much like a missed opportunity) before continuing on. Eventually we started to notice that we were
getting a bit pink and hot, and decided to turn back. Though on the return journey I made sure we
took advantage of the frozen yoghurt opportunity. (Ice cream and frozen yoghurt are of course
very different and there’s no reason not to have both in one day. Well, when I say no reason…).
Post-frozen yoghurt, our first stop on the
way home was the Venice canals.
Allegedly the epitome of tacky, we quite enjoyed them – all the more so
for so recently having visited Venice in Italy.
It was fun to mooch around, speculating on the cost of the palatial
houses lining the pretty canals (and of course deciding which one we’d live
in). After that, we got back on our bikes
and headed to Albert Kinney Road – allegedly the hippest street in the US. Sure enough the road was chock full of hipster
coffee shops, shops selling slightly unnecessary items and a delightful
vegetarian restaurant called Butcher’s Daughter where we stopped off for a glass
of wine / juice / snack.
Back in the hen house, we made ourselves a
quick dinner (gosh, I fear that I sound very greedy indeed, since we seem to
have had many meals today) before hopping on a convenient bus to nearby Santa
Monica, where I’d booked us movie tickets to see Woody Allen’s new film Café
Society. We enjoyed the film well
enough, though it was far from one of his best.
Afterwards, we mused on various bar options for a drink and then decided
everywhere was a bit young and loud for us and headed back to our neighborhood
and had a glass of wine (or in Layla’s case, unexpectedly, a wine flight) in a
cool local wine bar before bed. I went
to sleep somewhat worried that I might be liking LA…
Next morning we headed out to local Groundworks
branch for some delicious coffee before calling an Uber to drive us over to
Highland Park Bowling some 30km away.
Quite far to go for bowling you say?
Well, the Uber cost us less than $6(!), Layla was excited to see the
Hollywood sign, and the venue is something special. It’s the oldest bowling alley in the US, and
is all Victorian steampunk décor. The
mechanism for the pins was delightfully antiquated and Layla and I loved it
immediately. Indeed, only the amazing
1930s Eritrean bowling alley we went to in Asmara years ago can trump it in our
hearts. We played three games and there
are many excellent justifications for why I lost two of those games I’m sure…if
only I could think of them.
After bowling, we hopped into another Uber (again
ridiculously cheap) and headed into town to go to Grand Central market – a
brilliant food market with all the varieties and options you can imagine. Insanely, I nearly opted for ramen before I
remembered that this is one dish that is not a scarcity in Tokyo and headed for
the falafel. Totally delicious and very
jolly. Afterwards, we headed passed lots
of beautiful Moorish buildings and briefly stopped for coffee before heading to
a nearby Smithsonian museum about Mexicans in LA which wasn’t brilliant, but
did make us think a bit more carefully about the city. And the aircon was a welcome relief too. And from there, we went to the Broad, a
fantastic new art museum. Thankfully,
we’d reserved in advance and so we smugly swanned by those queuing in the heat
of the day to get in. We started with
the current exhibition from photographer Cindy Sherman called Imitation of
Life. Sherman only takes pictures of
herself, but over 30 or so decades has used make up and brilliant backgrounds
to replicate everything from old masters to pastiches on melodramas. I loved it.
We then meandered around the rest of the museum, playing our familiar
game of “which piece of art would I most like to own” (surprisingly we picked
two different Lichtensteins for this prestigious accolade).
After we’d explored the museum, we went
outside and lay on the grass in the shade and read our books (and ate ice
cream). We started to feel cold
(unlikely though this sounds about LA in August) and headed to perhaps my new
favourite bookstore: the Last Bookshop.
This is huge and cavernous and a delightful mix of new and
secondhand. It has a vault, a book
tunnel and random bookish art. And a
wonderful selection of books. We both
bought a book and then gazed at the information about upcoming book events and
wished we could go. Not that either of
us was liking LA, of course…
The metro was close by and took us to our
final stop of the day: Hollywood. This
was more by chance (I’d booked us a couple of shows for the evening and only
afterwards properly noticed the location) but it was fun to walk around, seeing
the names of famous actors in stars engraved on the street, walking down to
Sunset Boulevard. Dinner at the Running
Goose was the surprising combination of delicious and not extortionate: we had
numerous toastadas, salads and gazapacho and suchlike on a beautiful patio and
enjoyably eavesdropped on the next table (parents meeting their son’s
boyfriend).
Just round the corner was IO West, the cute
venue for our evening’s proper entertainment: first a storytelling show and
then an improv one (both were only an hour long, before you start to think we
were over ambitious). Only a couple of
the storytellers were really good, but it was enjoyable nonetheless – and the
improv show was terrific and featured a celebrity who we didn’t recognise –
Lori Allen. We mused on how the venue would be great for Perfect Liars
Club. Our final Uber home (also less
than $6) was speedy and only slightly marred by finding we’d left our book
purchases under our seats in the theatre. Alas.
We set our alarm for an early hour today,
to make sure that we were able to get out and about and make the most of our
last morning of US fun on this Transpacific adventure. Before 8am we had hopped on our bikes (not
much more competent than last time, alas) and cycled along the beachfront in
the opposite direction from our route on our first day. Though still early, it was fun seeing people
going about their daily lives– everything from circus-ey rope work on Muscle
Beach to an AA meeting on the sand. We
went for a paddle in the chilly Pacific waves, and then stopped off for a
coffee and an exorbitantly priced juice en route home before heading to the
airport. A really excellent morning
(enhanced even more by an unexpected Jose Andres (famous DC chef) lunch stop at
the airport).
So, just to be clear. I don’t like LA. I love LA.
And fortunately the nice theatre we went to last night have said they’ll
look after our books for us until our next visit…
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