Hurrah for Hollywood

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Let's not get carried away - we're still English after all. Schoolboy error, though. We're not in Los Angeles. We're in Sherman Oaks. It's not even listed in LA districts. Think of it as an LA version of Barnet or Colliers Wood. That's right, we're 5000 miles away and we're in Tooting. It was a particularly inspired decision of mine to arrange accommodation in order of dwindling quality. Intentional or not, it will make the transition back to Upper Norwood a less stark one.

Talking of dangerous medication, there are a rash of adverts over here for medical treatments for stopping smoking, erectile dysfunction, eating so much on a daily basis that your stomach impedes your knees and so on. These vignettes depict happy, healthy functional Californians in a variety of poses and active pursuits while, after 15 seconds of benefits, the voiceover goes on to describe potential side effects of increasing ghastliness, the pictured goons grinning on regardless. Would you take something that required the advert to go on for 45 seconds about anal bleeding and constipation, severe dizziness or possible loss of consciousness, however badly you want a boner? Honestly, these Americans are obsessed with medications for constipation or the beautifully titled stool softener. It's almost as if they have terrible diets or something.

Big Bear Lake was a blast. I went to the launderette and Bethany did her revision. We did find time to make one trip up a road I had noticed on the way in, enticingly called the Rim of the World Drive. 5 minutes in, when the tarmac disappeared and we started bouncing and wobbling like something from a Carry On film, was possibly the point at which we should have turned back. But we Nightingales are made of sterner, stupider stuff. Drawing on that reckless mix of stubbornness and blind optimism that is a much appreciated gift from my father we pressed on, albeit very, VERY slowly over ridges and potholes - I really didn't fancy the call to the rescue services who would inevitably ask ' You went where in what?' Baking sun belting down, top down in a dust-bowl, Louis Armstrong urging us forward - well he was singing mainly about getting his end away but I took that to be a coded message to keep going. Found some fantastic views....eventually. After an hour and a half of tortuous progress we found a crossroads, a map and the realisation that the only way down was back the way we came. A much more rapid descent due to the speedily setting sun and we agreed we would never speak of this again.

We hit 7000 feet on our journey to LA today. When we got out of the mountains the water bottles had squidged themselves like they do on a plane's descent. We had to turn back on one road as the clouds were too thick to drive through. They weren't that much better on the other road, but I found a school bus to follow at a sedate pace but at least I knew where the road was. It was a bit like driving on the Amalfi coast with its sharp bends and sheer cliffs, but without being able to see more than 5ft in front of you.

So to Tooting. It's not the most glam of locations, but we're just North of Hollywood so we shall go out and play tomorrow. Heading for Griffith Park, Hollywood sign, Walk of Fame, Santa Monica and Venice Beach. And, oh yeah, it bloody rained today. Yeah, go on - laugh it up.

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