Two Go to Tinsel Town

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We took off from Raratonga at about 11pm and had a short flight across the pacific to Tahiti. Although we weren’t going to leave the airport we still had to get out and wait for a plane (the same plane we came in on) which was due to leave in about two hours. As we arrived at the airport we were met by yet more music and dancing - mostly on ukuleles and drums and were handed a flower by a Tahitian woman before we had even crossed the tarmac. My first surprise as we entered the building was that there were two aisles for passport holders - one for European passports and the other for non-Europeans. Of course as this is French Polynesia it is part of the EU so we were effectively residents! We didn’t need to clear customs though but we did have to go through metal detectors and have our bags checked by a security guard. As we had got on the flight in Raratonga our bags had already been carefully checked, by hand, by a cheery security guard who kindly asked our permission. We were a bit surprised that they were checked again by the Tahitians, without so much as a hello (or bonjour, since it was gone midnight). We waited the two hours trying to get some kip in the airport before we had to board the flight again though not before we had our bags searched again, once again without any sort of discussion at all.

When we got on the flight Lins realised that she was far from well. It was now gone 2am, we had had virtually no sleep and the sandwich they had given us on the previous flight wasn’t sitting well. Of course with the no liquid rule we didn’t have our usual bottled water with us so Lins was forced to get the sick bag at the ready. I managed to persuade the air hostess to give her a cup of water before we took off and she promised more when we were in flight. True to her word she appeared 10 mins into the flight with a big 2 litre bottle of water hidden in a tea towel. “Don’t let the other passengers see” she whispered as she slipped us the contraband. After a few glasses Lins was feeling better but then they started serving the food -at 2:45am!!!! Lins declined but you know me - it was food and it was free! She had her chance when the second breakfast came round a few hours later.

We landed at LAX airport at just after lunch local time. We whizzed through customs and immigration with relative ease and were soon on a shuttle to our accommodation in Hollywood. The shuttle drive was very long - over an hour in fact and the van was quite hot so we were pleased to finally get there. Our hostel was quite pleasant and was just off the main Hollywood Boulevard. However since we had not managed much sleep it was about as much as we could do to get some food and crawl into bed. Mind you it was quite an eye opener at the restaurant we went to where we actually got efficient, smiling service. No attitude whatsoever - I think we have been in the Styx too long!

The next day we headed out replace the camera I had managed to lose in the Cook Islands. We had asked at the hostel where the closest place would be and the consensus was that it was a bus ride away. When we finally located it on the map it appeared to be only a few blocks away and decided to walk. It was only about a 15 minute walk but to our American hosts it seems the concept of walking for as long as 15 minutes was tantamount to Scott’s expedition to the South Pole. Americans just do not walk anywhere. The next bit of cultural difference was slightly more irritating. Having ummed and ahhed over the camera we wanted and finally decided we could just about stretch our finances to pay for it we were a bit annoyed to be told at the pay counter that it 8.5% more expensive due to sales tax. It is in fact the same pretty much everywhere. A bottle of water 99c on the shelf. Get out your $1 to pay and you are told it actually costs $1.04. I have never had so much change in my pocket. Why don’t they just display the whole price - do Americans have an innate ability to add 8.5% to things in their head? It makes any buying decision a nightmare. On the way back we dropped into a bookstore which was fairly quite as bookstores usually are. Suddenly a man came into the store on his mobile speaking at the 100 decibel level all Americans seem to love. He announced to the person on the other end of line and everyone in a hundred mile radius that “I’ve just found out that my psychiatrist is out of town and only have four anti-depressants left so I’m not sure what to do right now.” Ah yes we are definitely in California.

New camera plugged in at the hostel to charge up and we headed back out to soak up the Hollywood atmosphere. The Boulevard it full of aspiring actors and hip-hop artists trying to get noticed. The former usually dressed as a famous character and the latter handing out demo CDs. We ended the day in Hollywood’s oldest and quite possibly darkest Italian restaurant for yet another mammoth portion of food - spaghetti and meatballs - hmmm. We haven’t quite sorted out the buying just one entrée between us (entrée of course being your main meal - just to confuse everyone).

On our final day we decided we had to give the camera some exercise so walked up and down the Walk of Fame looking for likely contenders - and what an illustrious list of names-I’ve-never-heard-of that walk is. We made up a new game of how many stars can you pass before you recognise a name (even if you can’t quite remember why you recognise it). We gave ourselves the target of 10 and managed to smash that it about three attempts. Our best walk had us pass 24 names we didn’t recognise. Then there are the people who appear more than once like Mickey Rooney who has at least three we spotted. I don’t even know who Mickey Rooney is much to Lins’ disgust but as I pointed out she didn’t know that the bloke at the Island Night in Raratonga was the spitting image of the Marquis of Bath. Having tired of that game we stopped in at the only place that looked like a bar on the whole Boulevard - the Pig and Whistle. Remembering what it was like trying to get a drink when I was living in America I was armed with my ID and bit put out when the barwoman didn’t ask for it. Apparently I no longer look under 21. The Pig and Whistle is apparently part of the tourist trail - we know this because half way through our drinks a line of about 10 people all with earphones on walked through the bar not even pausing to consider a drink. According to the menu the bar used to be a favourite haunt of the movie stars who would come in for a quick one after a premiere - a far cry from today where most stars walk up the red carpet wave at the cameras then slip out the back door before they actually have to sit through their own movie. Of course it isn’t the original place which closed down years ago and became a clothes store but it has been lovingly restored - though not knowing what it looked like before I can’t tell.

Since the beer was hideously expensive we headed back out for some more pictures. The first stop was to find a good spot to take a picture of the Hollywood sign. We slipped up a side road by one of the many Church of Scientology buildings and tried but you couldn’t quite get it in shot. “You need to go up to Gower.” Said a blank faced drone standing in the Church of Scientology compound. We thanked him and moved on before he tried to induct us. We never did find Gower, which was probably brainwasher central (I am joking by the way he was actually a very pleasant looking man and the Church of Scientology isn’t a cult - you should all join) but we did find a really good spot to take a picture, several actually of that sign. For those who don’t know it was actually an advertising gimmick used to promote a local real estate development called Hollywood Land. We also visited the Kodak Theatre where the Oscars are held and looked at the movies that had won Oscars over the years. Here we played how many Oscar winning films have you actually seen. Well of the films made before 1987 I had seen three - My Fair Lady and One Flew over the Cuckoos Nest and Rocky, two of which are awful films. I did slightly better since 1987 having seen quite a few though not nearly all - Did the English Patient really win an Oscar!

Bored of that game we headed back up the Boulevard to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre which everyone raves about. Outside they have the concrete casts of famous peoples hands and feet with messages signed to Sid - who I think owns the theatre but I could be wrong. I had a go at filling Governor Schwarzenegger shoes and found that he’s not so big.

The next morning it was time to board the plane again so caught the shuttle back to LAX. The airport seemed to be in chaos with bags and people everywhere. We queued to check-in and then took our bags over to be x-rayed at another part of the terminal as they don’t have an conveyor belts. We deposited our bottled water before the security gates and went to wait for our flight. It was then we realised that we hadn’t had our departure cards taken off us by anyone. We spoke to the attendant on the gate who didn’t seem to keen to take them either. “Are you returning to the United States at any time?” She asked “Yes, but maybe not for a few weeks” “Well I suppose I can take them off you or you can hand them over when you return.” This seems really bizarre to me - they are over the top with all the bag checks and x-rays and taking your shoes off etc then they don’t seem to a have a clear policy on taking your departure card or not. We opted to leave ours there and get another one when we return. Ahead of us lay another part of the Empire - Canada - Vancouver to be precise.

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Photos

Big sign
The famous real estate advert

Road Sign
The Little Hollywood sign

Walk of Fame
And the not so famous.

Star
I recognised this one!

Arnie
He's not so big!