Day 255-257 - Coming To America

Day 255 (Thursday 26th)- Auckland to LA

Today was a slightly underwhelming last day in New Zealand. I got up, checked out, made breakfast and just kind of wandered around a bit, repeatedly bumping into Jenny, Carly and the hairdressers. I went down to the marina, checked out some big boats, failed to find the present I was looking for for Dad, then got the airport bus without any fanfare or even anyone to say goodbye to. Rubbish. I was very early at the airport, got an exit seat, and just, well, got the flight. Onboard I watched Lars And The Real Girl, a really sweet movie about a fellow and his delusion concerning a so-called 'love doll'. Also I watched St. Trinians (jovial nonsense), 10,000 BC, (Apocalypto-esque nonsense) and a Top Gear special about Botswana. One thing I did object to was that I was intending to use Paul McKenna's technique for overcoming jet lag ("Get Drunk. And I mean really drunk"), but I was only offered one beer, and despite the fact that I could see that the trolley was overflowing with complimentary wine, whisky and the like, the opportunity never presented itself again.

Day 256 (Thursday 26th, again)- A Day In Venice

On arrival at LAX I got a cab for the 5 miles to Nate's house, found his spare key, dumped my stuff and borrowed his 'beach cruiser', as he suggested. This turned out to be a bike with no gears or brakes, instead relying on backpedalling (and a better sense of balance than I possess) to slow oneself down or stop. After a few false starts, and after I had made the important observation that noone rides a bike on the road, I started off down the pavement for the 3 mile ride to the beach. This was not quite as hazardous as I had expected, and on arrival I chained up the bike at the end of Washington Blvd. and started wandering up the beach. This may have been an error of a sort - I had forgotten that there is a bike track leading all the way up to Santa Monica and beyond, which could have saved me quite some time. Anyway, I wandered for a while, enjoying the Camden-on-sea atmosphere that pervades everything here. I walked down to the ocean, had a swim and lay down to read my book - evidently I was more tired than I had thought after the flight, as I almost immediately fell asleep, for an hour or so at least. I woke up, went to buy a hat and saw myself in the mirror -bright red, except for two lines on the side of my head, and some Panda-like marks around my eyes. Bugger. Hoping that the shade of the hat would hide my shame, I walked back down to get my bike, and watched an awesome breakdancing show with a fair amount of comedy, and casual racism (it's the new Rock 'n' Roll) thrown in, and cycled home. As I turned into Nate's street, he was just getting out of his car - somehow 7 o'clock had already rolled around, and my timing was perfect. He looked exactly as I remembered him (which was lucky), and was as friendly and easy-going as I remember too. After a brief catch-up we headed to his friends' BBQ place, Baby Blue on Lincoln, where I was initiated into the world of American BBQ. I ordered the Memphis Queen, a 1/2 rack of baby back ribs and a 1/2 rack of Texas ribs (I am unsure of the difference, but both were delicious), along with mashed sweet potatoes, collared greens & corn bread, all of which were amazing. I finished the ribs, but did a woeful disservice to all the amazing fixins (as it was spelt on the menu). We headed back, stuffed, and I met Nate's housemate Josh, as well as his friendly, slobbery and permanently out of breath bulldog, Matilda. After a brief slump we drove off to Brennan's, home of the famous (apparently) turtle races. These are a somewhat preposterous affair, in which girls sponsor a turtle, then have to come and place it in the ring, while keeping legs straight, backs to the audience, and bending over slowly. If this is not performed to the satisfaction of the staff, a repeat performance is necessary, until they are happy. Oddly, the more attractive girls seem to fail the most at this... Most important is rule no. 1 - Do not point at the turtles. For some reason this is brutally enforced, and anyone caught doing so is fined $10, $20 or $50 for their first, second and third infractions respectively, and also the race is restarted. This all went on for ages, and was surprisingly compelling for what it was. Also, as Nate had promised, a lot of very attractive girls turned up for the spectacle. We stayed until the very last race then left - I was exhausted, and Nate has work tomorrow and then a drive to San Diego for his triathlon. Crazy man. When we got home I set up home on the sofa, and noticed an odd thing on the table - a draft script for Entourage episode 510, dated 24/06/08. Apparently Josh, who works for Jeopardy on the 'Clue Crew', also works on locations for various shows, and as a result gets the scripts. It made for some good bedtime reading.

Day 257 (Friday 27th) - Another Day In Venice

I got up around half nine, grabbed my stuff and went to pack in Nate's room, assuming he'd be gone to work already. In fact, he was lying in bed watching ESPN. he said he had told his assistant to hold his calls, so it was fine. I should mention that he works in 'development'. This means various things, including reading scripts and choosing which ones to forward to his bosses for potential filming, reading loads of books looking for ideas for movies, and a few other duties which all sounded pretty cool to me. I found a place to stay (The Venice Beach Cotel, from where I am writing this) and he very kindly gave me a lift there on his way to work. It is right on the beach, mere seconds from the ocean. I was toying with the idea of going surfing today, but instead I just walked up as far as Santa Monica Pier, and stopped at On The Waterfront Cafe, for a drink and a snack - it was swelteringly hot, and a bottle of Mike's Hard Lemonade hit the spot (and my empty stomach) perfectly. While I was sitting there I started pondering beaches in general:

One of the best things about the beach is the wonderfully levelling effect that it has - I recall Sentosa Island in Singapore, where the heavily tattooed Chinese gangsters mixed effortlessly with the Malay and Indian populations, with none of the quiet malice that usually surrounds them. Similarly, as I write this sitting on Venice Beach, having a beer and eating Calimari, I can honestly say that all human life is here. Übercool tattooed girls with black hair, sullen cigar smoking Mexicans in the shade, groups of stifling overdressed (in terms of layers, not formality) black guys, absurdly voluptuous Latin American girls, surfers and skater kids, wholesome-looking blonde girls in wayfarers, crazy homeless guys and aged hippies busking/painting/flogging nonsense, all milling about without the slightest suggestion of animosity - if one were to move merely a few miles to the east or to the south, this would almost certainly no longer be the case.

As I said, the drink was hitting an empty stomach, which may explain my somewhat flowery prose. I walked up the beach, lay down and had a bit of a doze - with my hat over my face this time - and read. I bought Bill Bryson's Notes From A Big Country at the airport, which is proving to be an entertaining read. I acquired two other new books today - Nate gave me a California guidebook and the notorious The Game, which we had been talking about last night. I gave him The God Delusion, which I finished yesterday, so it was not all one-sided. After all this wandering I returned to the Cotel, put my luggage in my room and spent ages wandering round trying to find a pharmacy in which to buy some deodorant, as mine was confiscated at the airport as I forgot to out it in my checked luggage, to no avail. I am waiting on Ivan's reply as to when/where/how to meet him tomorrow, but whatever happens I am rather excited.