Mr Mojo Risin'
God Bless you, God Bless America! The land of the free, the land of the great outdoors and the land of some of the slickest marketing this side of Donald Trump's quiff.
Arrived at LA international on Monday afternoon after the flight of the puking businessman next to me. A fat, slimey, loud-mouthed, obnoxious yank who ordinarily I would have wished this bout of travel sickness on. Unfortunately this time he was sat in the adjoining aisle seat and so kinda disrupted my enjoyment of Alaska Airlines' travel experience.
Digressing slightly it was actually nice to land in California this time as my last attempt to land in this state was slightly aborted as the events of Sept 11th 2001 unfolded and I was left going round in circles over Greenland as the Virgin Captain decided what to do.
I knew that LA was big, but nothing prepared you for the sight of this metropolis from the air. It's fucking massive with houses, developments, highways and life strecthing in all directions. I found out later that there are 6 million cars in the LA district and I think that most of them were out on the roads to greet my arrival. Driving a hire car on the other side of the road is usually a testing experience, but this was like having your first driving lesson around the Arc de Triomphe.
Accommodation is care of the Marriott at the airport on the 14th floor with a view of the runway. I know it's souless, corporate and lacking in American indigenous culture, but it was cheap and equidistant to the two things that I wanted to do in California's finest.
Tuesday was the day that a "million dreams come true", or so the hoardings say as you pull up onto Disneyland Drive. Whether you see the Disney phenomenon for how it's marketed as a wonderful land of make-believe or how it's really marketed as a cynical misuse of children's psyche to make a fortune of cash. You can't fail to be impressed by the magic that is Disney. Some great theme park rides, including shooting 100m up into the air in less than a second, some interesting films on the history of the Californian people and a chance to meet Pixar's latest creations Lightning MacQueen and Mater up close and personal.
I even got the channe to ride in the cabin of the steamboat cruiser, the Mark Twain, around the lake, singled out by the Skipper for personal treatment as we were boarding. He clearly batted for Lancashire and so I spent the entire trip nervously fielding questions of "what I was into?" I've obviously got a chutney magnet over my head this year..what am I doing wrong?
Still I got to blow on the Cruiser's horn , so I went home happy. Ah! So that'll be what it is then...
The firework display was suitably impressive and ended with the snow machines bizarrely blowing a snowstorm over the park. This despite a very comfortably sunny day that required a dab of the suntan lotion for the first time this trip. And yes Craig, it was factor fuck-off...
Wednesday was spent in the heart of cinema land in Hollywood, taking in a limousine trip to the homes of the stars. Cliched yes. Facinating very much so. I got within keying distance of Paris Hilton's car, spitting distance of Scientology god Tom Cruises' front gate and appropriately enough pissing distance of the Whisky-a-go-go club. The club where one of my three favourite bands of all time, the Doors, were discovered and made their name. (James and Talk Talk are the other two for the vaguely interested)
The trip included a thirty minute trip to walk up Rodeo Drive and check out the windows of Gucci, Max Mara and De Beers. Thank god Lila wasn't with me, a month's wages wouldn't have even covered the tip of the guy who holds your coat on the way in!
Thursday has been spent on a beautiful 5 mile hike from Venice to Santa Monica beach. Imagine St Tropez but without a soul to be seen and without the frogs! Tonight I head into the warzone that is Fiji, although my travel agent reassures me that coups are common place in this part of the world so nothing to worry about. It's also the first time that I've crossed the international date-line, so I don't have a Friday this week. My ex-colleagues at Unilever will no doubt say that I didn't have one of those when I worked there either!
As the Ashes is only a week away, prediction for the line up for Brisbane is Strauss, Cook, Bell, KP, Colly, Fred, Jones, Giles, Hoggy, Harmison, Monty vs Flattrack Bully, Dwarf, Wanker, Marto, Hussey, little blond kid out of his depth, Gilly, Warney, Chucker, Johnson and was it really 5-0 last time Glen?
Up the Monty
Arrived at LA international on Monday afternoon after the flight of the puking businessman next to me. A fat, slimey, loud-mouthed, obnoxious yank who ordinarily I would have wished this bout of travel sickness on. Unfortunately this time he was sat in the adjoining aisle seat and so kinda disrupted my enjoyment of Alaska Airlines' travel experience.
Digressing slightly it was actually nice to land in California this time as my last attempt to land in this state was slightly aborted as the events of Sept 11th 2001 unfolded and I was left going round in circles over Greenland as the Virgin Captain decided what to do.
I knew that LA was big, but nothing prepared you for the sight of this metropolis from the air. It's fucking massive with houses, developments, highways and life strecthing in all directions. I found out later that there are 6 million cars in the LA district and I think that most of them were out on the roads to greet my arrival. Driving a hire car on the other side of the road is usually a testing experience, but this was like having your first driving lesson around the Arc de Triomphe.
Accommodation is care of the Marriott at the airport on the 14th floor with a view of the runway. I know it's souless, corporate and lacking in American indigenous culture, but it was cheap and equidistant to the two things that I wanted to do in California's finest.
Tuesday was the day that a "million dreams come true", or so the hoardings say as you pull up onto Disneyland Drive. Whether you see the Disney phenomenon for how it's marketed as a wonderful land of make-believe or how it's really marketed as a cynical misuse of children's psyche to make a fortune of cash. You can't fail to be impressed by the magic that is Disney. Some great theme park rides, including shooting 100m up into the air in less than a second, some interesting films on the history of the Californian people and a chance to meet Pixar's latest creations Lightning MacQueen and Mater up close and personal.
I even got the channe to ride in the cabin of the steamboat cruiser, the Mark Twain, around the lake, singled out by the Skipper for personal treatment as we were boarding. He clearly batted for Lancashire and so I spent the entire trip nervously fielding questions of "what I was into?" I've obviously got a chutney magnet over my head this year..what am I doing wrong?
Still I got to blow on the Cruiser's horn , so I went home happy. Ah! So that'll be what it is then...
The firework display was suitably impressive and ended with the snow machines bizarrely blowing a snowstorm over the park. This despite a very comfortably sunny day that required a dab of the suntan lotion for the first time this trip. And yes Craig, it was factor fuck-off...
Wednesday was spent in the heart of cinema land in Hollywood, taking in a limousine trip to the homes of the stars. Cliched yes. Facinating very much so. I got within keying distance of Paris Hilton's car, spitting distance of Scientology god Tom Cruises' front gate and appropriately enough pissing distance of the Whisky-a-go-go club. The club where one of my three favourite bands of all time, the Doors, were discovered and made their name. (James and Talk Talk are the other two for the vaguely interested)
The trip included a thirty minute trip to walk up Rodeo Drive and check out the windows of Gucci, Max Mara and De Beers. Thank god Lila wasn't with me, a month's wages wouldn't have even covered the tip of the guy who holds your coat on the way in!
Thursday has been spent on a beautiful 5 mile hike from Venice to Santa Monica beach. Imagine St Tropez but without a soul to be seen and without the frogs! Tonight I head into the warzone that is Fiji, although my travel agent reassures me that coups are common place in this part of the world so nothing to worry about. It's also the first time that I've crossed the international date-line, so I don't have a Friday this week. My ex-colleagues at Unilever will no doubt say that I didn't have one of those when I worked there either!
As the Ashes is only a week away, prediction for the line up for Brisbane is Strauss, Cook, Bell, KP, Colly, Fred, Jones, Giles, Hoggy, Harmison, Monty vs Flattrack Bully, Dwarf, Wanker, Marto, Hussey, little blond kid out of his depth, Gilly, Warney, Chucker, Johnson and was it really 5-0 last time Glen?
Up the Monty
posted by Ant | 11:24 pm
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home