Staying
in Hollywood wasn’t a conscious choice, it just happened to be where a hostel
chain was situated. I felt like spending an extra few dollars and staying in
somewhere a bit nicer.
Perhaps
I was staying in the rough end of Hollywood as there was no glitz or glamour to
be found. It was a bit grotty actually. I was right by the walk of fame but
many of the stars were caked in chewing gum and grime as well as being situated
outside tacky fancy dress stores and run down café joints.
It's Lassie! I couldn't help myself
It was funny watching tourists take photos of every single star that they recognised. I've never been the same since my friend Mel joked about people taking copious amounts of photos - "What are you going to do with those photos? You're not going to frame them and how many photos of signs can you put on Facebook? Nobody wants to see that." It went something a little like that. Mel has a point. I've taken photos of all sorts of random nonsense but I have my blog as an excuse. Without it, my photos probably would just be sat in a folder unseen.
Seeing the grotty side of LA wasn’t disappointing to me. LA was a stop-gap in my journey so I
didn’t have any expectations. I thought whilst I was here I may as well do
something touristy. They had many tours on offer. You could go to
television/film sets and beach trips but they were quite pricey.
For
a few dollars, I’d meet a group of new faces and see the Hollywood sign. It was
a done deal. Before I came face-to-face with the iconic structure, I needed to
get ready and eat. A simple task one would think but dorming with seven other
girls in an en-suite room is like a battle. I felt like I was in the jungle.
The bathroom was the target and you needed to have your wits about you. I could
see one or two girls hovering under their duvet “playing dead” but as soon as
the bathroom was free they’d pounce. Unfortunately I was at a disadvantage
being on the top bunk. Stealth was out the window. Well I could pounce from the
top bunk but I’d break my neck. It wasn’t a sacrifice I was willing to make no
matter how desperate I was to go to the toilet.
Stupidly,
the entire building is made up of en-suite rooms. I found out there is one
toilet in the entertainment room and one other in reception. I was still in my
pyjamas and my hair certainly blended with my jungle theme. I was no lion cub,
I was flipping Mufasa on a rampage. I ran to the entertainment room but it was
occupied. I went back to the room and I didn’t care what anyone else thought, I
shot straight into the bathroom as soon as it became free. I didn’t want World
War III to break out, so I made a quick toilet-break and waited my turn for the
shower. What a faff-on.
At
least breakfast was easy. Fresh fruit, toast and bagels were available. You could
make your own pancakes too but I wasn’t even going to chance my non-existent
kitchen skills. I can bake a cake without breaking a sweat but trying to make a
pancake involves a lot of swearing and pan-clattering. There were too many
people around so I stuck to bread and fruit. Toasting bread I can manage.
My
inept skills made a good conversation starter as I saw someone making pancakes
like a pro. Unfortunately this guy was a shit single serving friend as he left to join a group as I sat on my own. I’ve been travelling for almost
a year now and I still find it difficult gauging people. I guess it depends on
my frame of mind too. Sometimes I’m aching for companionship and great
conversation and other days people annoy the hell out of me and I’d rather just
be on my own! It can be a tiresome cycle and even today I wonder who, out of
the friends I have made so far, I’ll end up seeing again.
With
it being a scorching hot day, a long and winding walk up to the Hollywood sign
seemed like a ridiculous thing to do, but I did it. Along the way I met James
and Perry, two friendly and chatty Brits. I mainly spoke to James and, although
it was a pleasant distraction, I struggled to talk and walk up a high incline.
I was sweating profusely and felt my hair frizzing in the sizzling heat. I felt
gross, this sign better be bloody worth it!
James
was a welcome breath of fresh air as conversation crept into career-talk, a
subject I strive to avoid. No judging, no patronisation or sarcasm. He was
quite supportive and said a few nice things despite only knowing me for less
than an hour. Of course he could just be talking bollocks or being polite, but
most people don’t even go as far as to do that nowadays. If there’s something that
people don’t understand, they tend to criticise it and shoot it down. Hard work
and perseverance is the key to reaching your dreams. It was sound advice.
We
finally made it...
I couldn't help but dabble in a bit of perspective photography
I was disappointed that we couldn't get closer to the sign. It's not that I believe everything that happens in movies, but you see people going up there all the time without consequences. I understand that they want to preserve the sign but still...it sucks.
We
swapped numbers and made loose plans to meet later. The guys went to Universal
Studios and I ran a few errands and spent the rest of the evening chilling in an attempt to save money. I needed to stay up late as I’d planned to do some
internet banking with my mum. No I’m not getting a cash injection from my
parents. I wish! I needed to gain access to my HSBC account as I couldn’t
remember how much money I had in there. It’s one of those accounts that has the
annoying little calculator key-pad thingy, something I refused to take with me
as I knew I’d lose it. I needed to get a code from my mum so I could access my
account. I’d like to say it was worth the hassle but I didn’t have a stash of
money I’d forgotten about. Damn.
As
the hours ticked by, a smell drifted up to my bunk. What the flip was that? It
smelled like a festering turd. Absolutely gross and example number two (pun not
intended) of why en-suite dorms are a big mistake. If one person in your dorm
drops some serious heat, you WILL know about it. Sheesh.
James
saved the day and texted me to meet him for a chat. I didn’t hesitate. I did
need the toilet before I met him. A piece of information you’re thinking you
really didn’t need to know but you’ll understand in a minute. I hasten to add,
I didn’t contribute to the death bomb that had hit our room. When I flushed,
the toilet bowl almost overflowed. Eurgh. Apparently girls do block toilets too
guys. This needed to be addressed as I did not want a flooded bathroom in the
morning.
By
this point everyone else was asleep. I wasn’t going to wake everyone up with my
revelation. I went to reception and told them the situation. Of course I looked
like the guilty culprit. Lovely! The guy on reception came back to my room and
assessed the situation. Most of the girls stirred but I didn’t feel bad. I don’t
know how they can sleep with that stench lingering in the air.
Heroically,
the receptionist unblocked the toilet with the plunger that I failed to clock
beforehand. I apologised to the receptionist but the guy saw the funny side of
it and said it was “the highlight of his night”. I left the girls to the stench
and met James. I regaled James with the story and thanked him for saving me.
Neither
of us was particularly tired and stayed up into the early hours talking about
anything and everything. Perry joined us at one point as the dorm room weirdo
had disturbed him. There’s always one. I had the stealth bomber and Perry had a
smelly noisy weirdo.
Eventually
we called it a night. As we parted ways, our goodbye was interrupted by a
racist drunken Aussie. Wheeeey, I thought I’d seen the last of them! After his
racist jokes fell flat he started laying into the English and how we know nothing
about our cricketing team. I’d barely followed the news since being away, never
mind sport so I couldn’t shoot this guy down with my amazing knowledge of our
cricketing team but I dropped a few names to shut him up momentarily. I was
fighting a losing battle as this guy could hardly stand never mind acknowledge
what I was saying. He soon found another argument and riled me further. James
lingered behind possibly to make sure I didn’t push this guy down the stairs. He
soon grew bored and stumbled off.
A
stench party awaited me as I bid James goodnight. Perhaps I could use my ear
plugs for my nose instead…
*****
As
I was checking out, I needed an early start. I am not a morning person at the
best of times but sleep deprivation plus an annoying room situation did not
help matters. I’m pretty sure I growled at someone. I made sure I got in the
bathroom before most of the girls as my patience levels were next to none.
After
seeing James and Perry at reception, we checked out and went to the subway together.
I left my luggage in storage and decided to have a day of exploring before I
checked in at my next place.
The
guys must have thought I was heading somewhere else as they hugged me outside
the subway station. Before I had chance to tell them I was coming down with
them, we heard a woman shrieking, “No frolicking!!” Before we knew it, this
crazy woman came up to us repeating the same statement. We assured her we were
just hugging. According to the woman you can be arrested for that kind of
behaviour as she was taken away by police for frolicking in the streets.
When
crazy-lady clocked that we were British, she started telling us how she loved
the Sex Pistols and asked us exactly what a Sex Pistol was. We steadily inched
away from her and escaped to the subway.
James
and Perry left for San Francisco and I had the rest of the day to wander the
streets. I knew exactly what I wanted to see. I love the film 500 Days of
Summer which was filmed in LA. Having picked out a few spots from the movie, I
set out to find Joseph Gordon Levitt…ahem, I mean visit some of the places that
were filmed.
First
up was the iconic bench.
Perfect
I
was happy that nobody was sat on it! The film is quite old now and the plaque
has been there a while so I guess the novelty has worn off for some.
Street art: I wish I knew who painted this
Speaking
of art, I visited the Fine Arts Building that Tom and Summer pass in the film.
I just needed The Temper Trap’s Sweet Disposition to blast out and it’s
like I’m inside the film.
The
geek that I am, I found out where the karaoke bar is and where Tom and Summer
(separately) lived but I didn’t have time to see everything. There was just one
more spot that I wanted to visit – the sex fountain.
Ok, it’s not called the sex fountain but it’s a shortened version of – the fountain
that erupts when Tom passes which leads to a dance and parade as he’s just
spent the night with Summer aptly accompanied by the classic Hall and Oates classic You Make My Dreams.
I thought this was it…but it wasn’t
Google
Maps had brought me to the right place but there was no fountain to be had. The
fountain above was situated on the same road. It is commemorative in its own
right with the words Peace On Earth inscribed on the side.
Half
an hour of walking around did nothing to aid my search. I asked a security
guard and a taxi driver for directions but neither had heard of the fountain. I
didn’t ask to be taken to the sex fountain by the way, its official name is the
Arthur J. Will Memorial Fountain. I asked a waiter and he was stumped too but
figured that it might be a certain fountain close by…it wasn’t. It
was the memorial fountain at the Walt Disney Concert Hall. Los Angeles has a
shit load of memorial fountains so it seems.
An
hour had passed and I was hot, sweaty and frustrated. I’d circled the same
street for what felt like a century in the hope that I’d find something I hadn’t
the last time. I decided to rest on some steps. I looked across the street and
a dusty light bulb had switched on. I walked across the street to inspect
closely. A long stretch of metal fencing stood before me encased in a thick
black plastic sheeting. I peered through an opening and couldn’t flipping
believe it. I followed the fencing around until there was a better view…
Found it!
The
fountain had been shut down for building works. I was in the right place at
least! What a waste of time. It turns out the fountain had been re-worked as
the centre piece for the newly opened Grand Park. I was a couple of weeks short
of its opening. Typical.
At
this point, I decided to head back to the hostel. I had a long journey ahead of
me as the hotel I needed to check into was the opposite side of LA. The
following day I would be embarking on a seven day tour taking in sights such as
the Grand Canyon and Yosemite National Park.
Seen
as I had so much fun searching for a fountain that wasn’t even open, I decided
to carry on the trend and look for a hotel that was in the middle of nowhere. I
lugged my stuff on and off two trains. All that was left was a bus journey that
stopped near the hotel. This is where Google Maps failed me as I had no idea
which direction I was going in and the busses were not clear at all.
It
was a long wait until a bus came by and the area was pretty crowded. I stood up
and made my way across the pavement to hail down the bus and it started to slow
down…then speed up and it carried on driving past me. The driver clocked me and
I gave the woman a look that summed up my feelings. According to everyone near
me, the bus is supposed to stop at each bus stop. Well apparently not this
time!
Another
bus turned up and everyone crowded onto that one. I asked the woman if the bus
stopped where I needed to be and she looked clueless. “The bus stops where it
stops,” was her response. Is that supposed to be a joke or some kind of weird
bus driver philosophy? The woman looked as confused as I was so I chose not to
board the bus as it was a different number to the one before. I had a feeling
it wasn’t the bus I needed.
As
the bus pulled away I was alone and confused. A short while later a couple of
people stood by the stop. One guy asked me where I was going and he said I’d be
best getting a taxi. As if Big Brother was watching us, a taxi driver pulled up
beside us. He’d obviously spotted my giant case and thought he’d grab a fare.
It would be more convenient getting a taxi but it would cost around four times
more than the bus. A girl at the bus stop said she knew where to get off so I
decided to stick around and cling to her.
Unfortunately
the girl got disorientated and we ended up getting off a couple of stops too
far. I wasn’t annoyed as at least I was closer than I was before. The girl said
her friend’s due to pick her up and offered to drop me off. What a lovely
gesture. A few minutes later the girl started getting a bit flustered as she
wasn’t sure when her friend was going to arrive and felt terrible that she’d
not led me to the hotel. Instead, the girl offered to pay for a taxi. I didn’t
know what to say. That was far too generous but the girl insisted. Hannah I
think her name was, hailed down a taxi and smoothly placed a note in my hand. I
looked down and a twenty dollar bill stared up at me. I couldn’t take that
much, that’s crazy. Hannah insisted and walked away. Wow, what a lovely girl
and a pretty damn good single serving friend.
The
taxi came to around $12 for that short distance. In hindsight, the fare offered
to me at the bus stop was a really good deal. I wasn’t to know that though and
everything worked out well in the end.
Nothing
could go wrong now right? “I’m sorry. Your name isn’t in our system.” Ah crap.
A bowl full of lollipops sat by the computer. I grabbed one and tucked in whilst the
receptionist continued to look for my booking. I added that it had been made
around eight months ago. Eventually my name was found, I wasn’t sweating though
as I had everything in email if it came down to technicalities. The
receptionist apologised and I quipped that if he’s truly sorry he could bump me
up to their finest suite as a goodwill gesture. The receptionist laughed and
said that if they offered a fine suite, then it would be mine. Oh dear, that’s
not a good sign.
After
finding my room, I plonked my stuff down, got changed and headed to the gym. I
wasn’t there long though. Firstly, I was so unfit (still am!) that I really
couldn’t run for that long but mainly because all the gym equipment faced a
wall of mirrors. I hate that in gyms. I understand having mirrors by the mat
and weight areas as you want to make sure that your back is straight and you’re
using the right technique. However, I don’t see how watching my fat jiggle up
and down whilst running on a treadmill or seeing my face quickly transform from
content to absolute displeasure would encourage me to work harder. Instead, I
recoil in horror. I know I don’t look great when I work out and I’m well aware
that I have a strange angry face when I run but I really don’t need to be
constantly reminded of this.
Seen
as I did sweat for a little bit, I thought I deserved a treat. I showered, got
comfortable, turned on the television (a rare perk) and ordered room service.
They had plenty of meals available but I’d already eaten a Chinese takeaway
earlier. I ordered some chocolate cake with ice cream. It cost less than $5,
bargain.
It
didn’t take long at all for it to arrive. It was a breathtakingly large piece
of yumminess. Just as I paid the waiter and took hold of the cake, my roommate
arrived. What a wonderful first impression I must have made.
Like
I care what anyone thinks of my cake addiction anyway! I enjoyed every
mouthful. Gen, an Aussie student, accepted what was happening and we chatted
until quite late. Excitement took hold as I looked forward to meeting everyone
on the tour.
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