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Published: August 7th 2007
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Day One
Fact: There are more Toyota Prius' here than poodles with wack hair cuts, or celebrities with boob jobs.
Fact: Everyone who owns a Prius returns home at night to park their 6.2 litre Hummer next to their Hybrid Prius, resolute in the knowledge that they're doing their bit for the environment. The world's a better place for the LA rich and famous.
I guess its the sentiment that counts though right? Actually, I hope so, since my "4 babies and a wedding tour" will kick off at each venue with the passing of baby gifts
that my sister bought for me at a last minute trip to the factory outlet village. Thanks Sue - fancy you getting the presents - there's a first time for everything eh.
Shenanigans at Immigration & at US Air
Anyway - on to more important matters -
me! The journey across to LA was the usual comedy of affairs that seems so common when you travel internationally to the states (US Air this time). Leg one - fine - right up until the point where I joined the customs/immigration line in Philadelphia. Circumnavigating the chinese wall (walking on my hands) would
have been a far less painful and time consuming experience I reckon. First, despite practically sprinting to immigration, I was still at the back of one of about 15 lines. The line then formed a breakaway into a new lane (perfectly timed with me cleaning my glasses) - so I sprinted to the new lane like Mr Magoo carrying his life posessions, and I think ended up being further away from the front than when I started. I won't bore you with all the details, actually I think I will. By the time I arrived at my connecting terminal, I had encountered 1 "random" sniffer dog check, 1 "random" serious inquisition into the origins of my name, and 1 "random" ministry of agriculture baggage scan, and only 2 hours had passed. The joys of looking like a terrorist.
Frying Pan - Fire
As if that wasn't comedy enough I then arrived at the gate with about 20 minutes to go before departure time, cool and seasoned traveller that I am, only to discover that the flight was oversold and that I would not be flying today. Fortunately I wasn't alone, so I let the other snappy sunday night American's
do the talking for me - they seemed to be more seasoned in that domain than me.
"But i've got a boarding card and a seat number you idiot" one dude screamed (my sentements exactly Mr. A good point, well constructed and articulately driven, I thought).
"Sir, we are not taking questions at the moment," replied the US Air rep.
"That wasn't a question jackass!" (mmm, just what I was thinking - this guy was presenting a carbon copy of my inner dialogue - one that I've always left inside, but it was quite enlightening to see it exposed at last. Next I was expecting him to turn to the girl next to him and start asking her whether the label coming out of the back of her jeans was part of the jeans, or part of some thong type underwear, or perhaps that she wasn't actually wearing any underwear. He didn't. I digress).
"Sir, you'll just hav to bear with us... blah blah, blah"
Angry dude turns to another passenger "I can understand them over selling the flight - that's standard policy, but I've got a pass with a seat number and I've gotta work first thing tomorrow morning.
"Dude, you think you've got troubles - I've got 2 weeks surfing in the sun planned to begin tomorrow, you'll have to do better than that" I thought to myself, but once again I let it remain an inner dialogue - and once again I think I was right to leave it there.
Anyhow, a few minutes pass, until the US Air guy says we have a few available seats, we will board you by zone. Angry dude shows his boarding card - zone 3 - and sprints off down the walkway before he can hear the US Air guy say you can go, through gritted teeth. I trail him, holding up my boarding pass, (zone 1) and he gives me the nod - "Good thing they boarded by zone!" whatever that meant?
Anyway, we eventually take off, delayed about an hour on a plane with about 20 empty seats, and all wondering what the guy on the desk was thinking. I guess he didn't get his MacDonald's today or something.
So here I am at the home of the stars....
Day Two
Priority 1: Hang out with Turner
Priority 2: Get coffee
Priority 3:
Bike downtown
Priority 4: Check out surf
Priority 5: Buy surfboard
Priority 6: Surf
Priority One
This was easy. Possibly the happiest baby I've ever met, even when confronted with an underheighted bald man with fluffier body hair than an afghan rug. We kicked back and talked about the good times (see pics, more to follow).
Priority Two
I failed in my first priority. I arrived at the coffee shop and noticed that they served an
English Breakfast Tea Latte. This has got to be good I thought - a latte tea. Nice. Well it was interesting, if creating a little cognitive dissonance in my head. I dunno if it was a good or bad thing, but they rammed it with sugar which definitely made it quite palatable, if a little sickly as I descended to the dregs of the cup. Still, I could tick the box on that one anyway. Anyone else claim to have had an English Breakfast Tea Latte? Yeah - I win!
Priority Three
Priority 2 swiftly leapt into action - especially as I was staying at the top of a hill 1/2 mile from the beach (and downtown area), so the ride
out was a dream. I passed through a selection of LA's dollar monkeys and LA's street sleepers, and found a great camper van with a nang paint job. Yep, jesus was homeless too - it says so in that big book about him, according to the van at least (see photo).
Priority Four
There was no surf - but still a few in the water trying to catch nothing - another box that I've ticked, on many occasions.
Priority Five
The ride to the surf shop (that deals in second hand boards) was probably 3 or 4 miles - in this case a pleasant free wheeling experience, with a trailing wind along the beach. Plenty of "scenery" to look at - and that's not just the surf. I travelled round the Del Ray marina - found another nang vehicle - this time some kind of water going pod (see pic). Yep, pretty much defining nang I'd say.
I found the shop with little fuss and found a couple of boards that fit the bill. In fact there were several, but only a couple that had a bill that fit my pocket attached to them. I ummed and
Turner
Just hiccup and watch him chuckle! arrred (has anyone else had trouble trying to write those two words?) and eventually settled for Z7. A 6'3" fish, 20 wide and 2 3/4" thick. Kirbo, you are gonna love this board. A little optimistic for me, but it was the best fit given the budget and the time frame.
Priority Six
I was up at 730am, to check out the surf. Yep, flat - but waist high sets I guess. The board - still to be named (any takers? I'm think something beginning with "S" - Z Seven Serena? Z7 Sharyse? Dunno help me out please) performed well even under amateur guidance. Kirbs/Masc very hard tail rails, so really grippy. Bit small for me, but with no suit weighing me down (let's set aside the 12 & a half stone lardass lying on it for a minute) I was pretty happy with my purchase.
Until next time...
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