San Diego & Los Angeles
20:55 - San Francisco - Benji & Zihao
From complaining incessantly about the heat we were looking forwards to the cooling breeze of the west coast. Michael had continuously informed us on how much cooler the west coast is, needless to say we were all shocked at the temperature difference. The jumpers were quickly found and donned for the first time this trip. Having arrived at out hotel we proceeded to dump our bags and we jumped in the car to go to the beech. After experiencing the bath like temperature of the sea in Hilton Head we headed excitedly into the water. We were greeted, however, by the cooling ebb that would not be out of place in the north sea. It did not help that at the beech it was completely overcast though still sunny at our hotel 5 miles away due to the very strange weather. Whilst enjoying the icy throws of the water we ensued to practising body surfing due to the fact that we had no body boards. Much practice is needed and we were all rather useless. Having enjoyed our excursion to the beach we headed back to the hotel to change for dinner. Throughout our trip we have been wanting to catch a sporting game first hand, we were given that chance when looking for a restaurant for supper in San Diego where we stumbled on the Padres stadium mid game. Alec then set about trying to buy us tickets for the next baseball game. Whilst Alec was ticket hunting on the internet we made good use of the pool and jacuzzi facilities at the hotel. The time then came to go to to the ball game after a quick lunch at a diner. The San Diego Padres were playing the Florida Marlins and from entering the stadium as baseball novices we left still not knowing much about the sport. The Padres sadly lost though they did score a home run where fireworks and celebrations ran for five minutes, we learned later that the Padres are not the best of teams and a home run is a rare and exiting occasion, we enjoyed the spectacle none the less. From our brief but enjoyable time in San Diego we departed to venture to LA and Hollywood.
We passed a sign welcoming us to Los Angeles though we still had 27 miles left until our destination. We are unused to a sprawling city but to get a good impression of the sheer size of the city it needs to be seen from a height. Highways run through the city just as well as the blocked arteries of an obese American on a diet of burgers and dunkin donuts, we were in traffic non stop and it took us hours to get anywhere. Though the highly regarded fifth member was back in England he still had a hold on the trip, though rather than introducing us to a new restaurant with delicious culinary delights as well as wings he put us in touch with a lovely lass by the name of Megan. Megan, having spent a year in London, had gotten to know the infamous Mole and she had kindly invited us to stay with her aunts Pam and Helen in Pasadena, where we arrived (just behind schedule) to a thoroughly warm welcome. Megan was exactly as Mole had described - lovely, charming, and endearingly neurotic - constantly panicking about just about everything. Polite pleasantries quickly gave way to much mocking by and of all involved - including Mole. As soon as our feet had touched Los Angeles soil, Megan insisted that we took as many photographs as possible (on her beloved Blackberry) of all the fun we were having to send to Mole; and fun was had indeed. After a quick snack was prepared for Michael to stop his violent shaking, we made our way to Hollywood Boulevard (with many panicked phonecalls by Megan en route, checking directions and whatnot) to see all the weird and wonderful people of the fine city of LA. The hand- and footprints of various stars in front of the Chinese Theatre (which, incidentally, was not what Zihao's house looks like in China, despite Michael's fun fact) was gawked at by all except Megan, who was still taking pictures of all the fun we were having to send to Mole. Having ticked off one tourist attraction, we headed to another - the Griffith Park Observatory overlooking Los Angeles. TomTom, having proved itself thoroughly capable of making up routes and destinations that plainly didn't exist, led us up a suspiciously Alpine (steep, narrow and windy) road, and with blind faith we charged up. Our audacity ran out when TomTom dared us to ram through a padlocked gate within yards of our destination, and, pride shattered, we were forced to turn back to try another route. To add insult to injury, we quickly saw a rather large sign pointing us towards the observatory, which we had missed earlier in our overzealous urge to go wherever our Dear Leader TomTom directed.
Once we actually arrived at the Observatory, we were treated to a magnificent view of a smoggy LA, which provided the catalyst for a heated debate about the impact of man on nature, the concept of social responsibility (which Michael doesn't believe in), and everything else philosophical. A few more photos later (which were, naturally, sent to Mole), we joined Pam, Helen, Grace and Henry for our first dose of Mexican food of the trip, which went down very well with a healthy pitcher of Margherita and delightful conversation. Once back at the home of our lovely hostesses, we were kindly offered Megan's birthday Tequila, which we (including Michael, for the first time) polished off down to the last droplet, before piling into Megan's poor Honda to hit the town, ending up in a bar called the Yard House.
By the time we had woken up the next morning, Pam had gone to work, but fortunately we were kept company by Helen and, of course, Megan who'd managed to call in sick to work. Food was eaten, banter was had, music was played, (food was eaten, again, by Michael) and general merriment was afoot before, alas, it was time to leave, and Manhattan beach was on the cards. Bidding adieu to our wonderful hosts, we were able to convince Megan to come with us. This would later prove to be a fateful error, as we found out that a poor sense of direction is contagious, and we ended up at Venice beach instead of Manhattan beach.
Venice beach was a very strange place indeed, filled with hippies, gypsies, stoners and charlatans. We enjoyed lunch and ice cream, before heading to our hotel for the evening and letting Megan get on with her dissertation. Not minutes later, we received a panicked phonecall from Megan, admitting to the theft of our Nerf ball and pleading ignorance and begging for our forgiveness. As we all know, ignorance is no excuse, and we've not forgiven her since.
Spending an evening doing very little, we went to the cinema the next morning to see the new Salt, the new action film starring Angelina Jolie, which was a disappointment to all but Michael, whose happy as long as there are a few explosions. Post film, we headed towards the actual Manhattan beach where we spent a good few hours chilling and swimming, before heading to the Bruces' in Santa Monica - not-so-distant relatives of our own Frenchman Alec. We were warmly welcomed by Jamie and Wendy, who'd prepared for us a deliciously decadent meal of steak and chicken, accompanied by fascinating stories of corruption, pygmies, and forgery. We finished off the evening by watching the 1972 classic, Deliverance, on Jamie's recommendation, and, once it was done, felt very glad indeed that for us, the South was done and dusted.
The next morning, we watched the Owen Wilson classic, Behind Enemy Lines, and headed to Santa Monica beach to complete our LA beach hat-trick, where the sunny weather secured it as, by consensus, our favourite beach of the three. In the evening, we headed to an Italian restaurant right in the middle of the ghetto (as we later found) with Estelle (a friend from Oxford), her friend Dominic, and once again Megan, who sheepishly presented our estranged Nerf ball. Dinner was great, and was followed by our convoy (now of 4 cars) towards Hermosa beach for an evening of alcohol-fueled merriment.
The next day, we were up bright and early to make our way to Scotts Valley near San Francisco, where the adventure continues...
