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Published: December 5th 2010
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Manhattan Beach
The streets were steep. Day 5, Dec. 4: West! West Till We Find Water!
I spent a bad night, coughing so much that I feared they wouldn't let me board the airplane on Sunday. Accordingly, rather than trying to go see the La Brea Tar Pits, I did what I knew was best for my lungs. I went straight back to Manhattan Beach and I planned to stay there all afternoon. There is nothing more healing for my bronchitis than the salty ocean air.
It was a lovely little town, clearly the Pawley's Island of California. The trolley driver said that it was a wealthy community with high-priced real estate, but it must be "old money," as everything was quietly good rather than flashy.
They had blue cobblestone zebra crossings, and the drivers actually stopped and waited for you to cross. I remember now that the Arizona drivers did that, too, when I was in Prescott for a job interview twenty years ago. Western drivers seem to be much more considerate of pedestrians.
Let me say here, too, that somehow I had gotten the impression, probably from stories of the Watts Riots, that L.A. was a rough, dangerous and seamy
Pacific Ocean
Pacific Ocean town. In fact, everyone I've met here so far has been friendly, outgoing, and, if the situation called for it, helpful.
Anyhow, back to Manhattan Beach. Today there was no fog and I could see that it was a charming little town, though set on absurdly steep streets. All the cross streets slanted down at a sharp grade, and signs warned drivers to angle their wheels if they parked on the street.
I found my way to an independent grocery store ("Manhattan Groceries," I think) that reminded me of the Demus Market, a small independent store at home. It had a deli which served sandwiches; I did not buy anything on my first stop there, but later I went back and bought a turkey and cheese sandwich. It was excellent -- huge portions, too.
I headed downhill towards the beach, alternately kicking myself for not having worn my knee brace and being impressed with how well my bad knee was handling the slope. The knee has really improved in the past few years.
When I got to the esplanade at the sand's edge, I saw that there was a pier off to my right. I walked
Pier
The aquarium was at the round end. over to it and was pleased to find that it was free to enter it. A small sign proclaimed that it was the oldest concrete pier on the West Coast.
Unlike the piers I know in South Carolina, this one was equipped for sightseeing rather than fishing, though there was one fishing-table with sink. But everywhere else along it there were concrete benches, painted a cheerful orange, and very well maintained.
I spent two hours there, breathing the sea air and sitting on one bench after another. A sailboat went by. There were some people surfing, and some others standing on boards and paddling with what looked like a long-handled canoe paddle; I asked, and was told that that was also a form of surfing.
There were public restrooms at the end of the pier, also a snack bar (I had an overpriced but tasty cup of hot cocoa.) and a public aquarium. I paid the $2 suggested donation for the Public Aquarium and had a marvelous time. All the creatures were ones that might really be found in the ocean just below us. There was a touch-tank (I love touch-tanks, as my sense of touch is
Seagull
On the pier more reliable than my vision.) and a do-not-touch tank with similar small creatures; a sign explained that these were resting after having been in the touch tank for a while.
There was a delightful little ray that pressed himself up against the glass so that you could see his underside. He was oval-shaped and gray, with adorable black eyes, and of course a long tail. There were other rays, a different species and color, much thicker and brown-spotted, looking like animated sweet potatoes.
There was also a tank for bigger fish; most of those were a foot or two long. They were mostly small sharks, or at least those were the ones I noticed. A sign explained that they were fed on squid. One of the fish was an albino, and it was a beautiful mottled-silver color; non-albino fish of the same species were mottled-brown.
There was an upstairs section, and I made the effort to go up to it, but I wished I hadn't when I got there; it was even more for children than the rest of the aquarium and consisted mostly of a play area for toddlers and a few tanks of anemones and
Seagulls
On the beach eels.
I came back downstairs and spent more time watching the little ray race around his container. Then I went back dutifully into the salty sea air.
Presently I decided I was up to walking on the beach itself, so I did. I took a fairly short walk -- but I had all that wide beach to cross first, to get to the water, and all that wide beach to cross again to get back. So I think my walk was about as long as my usual beach walk. There were flocks and flocks of seagulls.
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anonymous
non-member comment
It sounds like your trip has been eventful so far, Meredith! I've always had a desire to travel on a passenger train, but have never had an opportunity to do so (there are no passenger trains nearer than 3-6 hours away). However, it sounds like LA has been a much more relaxing an enjoyable experience for you :-).