Los Angeles: Everybody goes to Hollywood...

After a fairly hilarious flight from Guatemala to LAX via Tampa (the flight attendants warn us that should the plane run in to difficulty, it's vitally important to check our hair is looking good...), I finally arrive in Los Angeles. I'm booked in to the Hollywood Youth Hostel, right on H'Wood Boulevard and leading on to the Walk of Fame. It's a little rough round the edges (some filthy wee beast steals my towel... their funeral!) but for $16 a night, it's the cheapest in town (that isn't in Compton or Inglewood), and the location is pretty hard to beat! Although despite the prestige attached to "Hollywood", there are a lots of freaks and creeps kicking about the Boulevard. In no other city can I recall seeing so many people having full-on conversations (and arguments!) with themselves. It's colourful to say the least...
After a an epic snooze, I head to the laundry room to wash my large and smelly collection of clothes, and there I meet two Dutch girls, Emilie and Maggie. They're heading to LACMA (art museum) later on, so we make plans to go together. It's about a 15 minute bus ride away, and most definitely worth a visit. It's exactly the type of gallery I like; packed full of modern art and with some really nice Warhol, Licthenstein and Koons pieces.
So after out very cultural evening, we decide it's definitely a night to hit a club and check out the LA nightlife. Along with Lilia, a Russian girl who's in the process of moving here, the four of us decide to check out Sunset Strip, and more specifically The Viper Room (was once owned by Johnny Depp, and was where River Phoenix died from a drugs overdose back in the 90's). I'm looking a bit rough (very non-LA), so am a bit apprehensive that the bouncers are going to take one look at me and say "Beat It!" But luckily, "scruffy" pretty much sums up the rest of the clientele, so we fit right in. And even better, it's really not that expensive, so we have a good night listening to the house band and having a few drinks before the doors close. Criminally early. We attempt to find another club, but sadly everywhere is ridiculously expensive (and a wee bit pretentious), so we call it a night and head back.

I'm very lucky to have met Emilie and Maggie, because the 3 of us have similar interests, and very similar (crude) senses of humour. So I actually end up spending the rest of my time in LA with them...and we are startlingly productive! In amongst A LOT of shopping (vintage and otherwise), we manage to squeeze in a trip to the Getty Museuem (lots of classical art and amazing views of the city), a day out at a Long Beach Flea Market(cue a chorus of "Compton, Long Beach, Inglewooood"), a day of hanging out with the hipsters at Venice (the Camden of Los Angeles), some Down Town Mexican food, A day of Santa Monica shopping and dinner (Emilie swears she saw Natasha Bedingfield here...), a visit to the Grammy museum (sooo worth a trip!), and even some drinks at the very fancy Redbury Hotel in Hollywood. So it's an all-round action-packed week of adventure in Los Angeles. We manage to get around mostly ok using the public transport system ($5 per day unlimited travel) despite it being a little unreliable at times. Generally this wouldn't be a problem in any European city, but LA is so vast and spread out that walking anywhere can almost be impossible. This was discovered the hard way, when we had no choice but to wait at the side of the road, pretty much in the middle of nowhere, for a bus that was over an hour late. A sensible idea would definitely be to rent a car!




After 5 nights in sunny LA, it's time to pack up my rucksack once again and say bye to Emilie and Maggie. They are heading back to Holland, and I'm doing the unthinkable; something that no normal American has ever done before. I'm going to Las Vegas....using the Greyhound Bus. A week of sin in the sun with a ton of friends from Scotland. What could possibly go wrong...?