Our next port of call was to drive around the Hollywood hills. What a place to live! We drove up to Bel Air and its view from the top over LA to the sea are wonderful: I could see myself living here straight away.
The next morning we drove into Los Angeles heading for the Warner Brothers’ studio tour in Hollywood. I'm not much of a movie buff but I did recognise a few things although sometimes I just pretended to not to spoil things. It had an odd feeling here and there, like a town abandoned but the detail was amazing until you go inside the buildings: only facades. We spent a most enjoyable afternoon. The most popular part of the tour was the (Central Perk) set of series Friends; everybody wanting their photos taken. The guide told us the story of how the barista in the series was picked: during one of the first shoots of Friends in the bar it turned out that no-one had bothered to find out how the coffee machine worked. One extra volunteered and got offered the (mostly non-speaking) part of barista; he was called Gunther. He stayed for the whole series. Our next port of call was to drive around the Hollywood hills. What a place to live! We drove up to Bel Air and its view from the top over LA to the sea are wonderful: I could see myself living here straight away. Dinner this evening was at the Paradise Cove Beach Café a couple of miles up PCH. It had a great setting on the beach, eat in eat out what you like. We chose inside, in what seemed like an old dinner style table. I ordered scampi and was not disappointed: they where huge and delicious; my partner ordered a steak and I think it must have been from a dinosaur, it was so big. So full to the brim, the short drive back to the hotel and a glass or two of wine before bed. After breakfast we headed into Los Angeles again and drove along Sunset Boulevard, had a look at the Beverly Hills Hotel, then stumbled upon Rodeo Drive: a well known shopping street. Worth a stop to look around and that is what it seemed most people were doing, only looking but no one was shopping. It felt a bit fake but all the expensive shops aren't there for nothing, people must spend fortunes there. Our next stop was the Chinese Theatre famous for the Walk of Fame, but unfortunately for us, we just couldn't find anywhere to park so we drove around again and gave up (next time). The ‘must do’ shot was our next port of call: to have our photos taken with the Hollywood sign in the background. We found a place on the map that said it had one of the best views. Photos taken, job done of we go again along Hollywood Boulevard. Driving along we came across some very dodgy looking areas in LA as well. Beverly Hills is monumental, but I had fallen for Malibu; it just had something and I don't say this very often but here we go: I could live there without a doubt so there you go it’s in black and white. Unfortunately, that was the end of our three days in Malibu/Los Angeles, but not our last for sure.
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After what seemed an eternity we arrived at LAX, Los Angeles’ renowned airport famous for the X shaped building there (the Theme Building). We had hired a convertable car as we felt it was part of the LA experience, roof down and airco on but it did feel odd. Before we got in the car we put our bags in the boot (or ‘trunk’, American style), got in and proceeded to put the roof down. Nothing happened, we opened the boot again it all looked fine but still the lid wouldn't go down. Time to ask for help. The guy on the parking lot explained that the roof took up most of the boot and only a tiny piece was over, in this case you might just fit a coat and a small bag that was it. We had two large trolleys (traveling light), our only option was to take the bags out, put the roof down and the bags on the back seat: sorted but not ideal. We had booked three nights at the Malibu Country Inn. So map in hand, of we jolly well go, traffic being quite busy as it was just after rush hour but the it kept moving and before long we were sailing along the Pacific coast Highway, and wow what views! I loved it immediately. Unfortunately, I'm not the best navigator and we missed our turning for the hotel so we took the next right: a canyon road and within minutes we had climbed Everest. We couldn't see the road over the bonnet it was so steep. We managed to turn around in someone's drive way (thank you) and back down we went. I will avoid that turn off again if I can help it. This time lucky, do a right first left up a steep driveway: home for the next three days. We chatted to the receptionist as we checked in about what famous people lived around the area. Barbra Streisand and Cher cropped up amongst others. The receptionist, though, said that Barbra never leaves her home anymore but I wasn't so sure that was true. She showed us to our room but it became obvious this one hadn't been cleaned since the last checkout so a new key and bingo a clean room with a view of the beach from the patio. Now, the beach situation along the Pacific Coast Highway is very odd. Lots are marked as private which even comes down to the fact that if anyone goes onto these beaches security guards turn up very quickly and ask the people to leave. But, here is the crunch: sometimes parts of the beaches are public but the owners of the million dollar homes overlooking these beaches want them kept private and if the people refuse to move the guards call the police. The police arrive and generally side with the guards, which makes the police's job easier, they don't really ever want to get out of their cars let alone arrest people for sitting on a beach. Having said that, there are some beautiful wide sandy beaches for those less well off and still with the same views. It was getting time for a glass of wine and dinner so back to reception for some dining options as the hotel restaurant was closed. Our closest option was back down the drive along the beach road to a place called The Sunset Restaurant which would do us fine. I parked the car in the car park next door but we noticed a man in a bit of a flap at the car park’s entrance; it turned out to be valet parking something we in Europe are not used to plus the carpark was in spitting distance from the restaurant, we just said next time and in we went. The place was modern and across from the beach. Food ordered and a glass of wine a pleasant meal with a great view as in its name. The journey back to the hotel was less than a mile I was driving and had had two glasses of wine which is something I never do and have never done since, but typical: a cop car turns up just my luck. Luckily, he wasn't interested in us, so back safe and sound. The beach outside The Sunset Restaurant Malibu
We arrived at San Francisco airport after an eleven hour flight from Amsterdam; twelve hours couped up is about my limit but now some airlines are introducing flights of up to eighteen hours… what a nightmare. Well, that out of the way, we picked up our hire car and off we go in search of the Frank Hotel, just off Union Square. My partner behind the wheel and everything going to plan until we hit Lombard Street. “I can't drive down that” he yelled and unceremoniously got out of the driving seat, holding all the traffic up, giving me no choice other than to take over. It wasn’t all that bad at all: just a series of eight hairpin bends down a steep hill. That over with and not long after we arrived at our hotel. Walking into the reception of the Frank Hotel we were welcomed not by your average Muzak, but by Barbra Streisand… After ‘the good morning and do you have a reservation’ - which we did - I commented to the guy behind the desk saying “Barbra is our cleaner”, he roared with laughter and we got an instant upgrade, a great start. Our room was very spacious with a lounge area with a large tv and a huge bed. Time to explore. Union Square was very close by so this was our first port of call. I have to admit there wasn't much to see here. So on we went. We decided to get the cable car down to the bay. Easier said than done: the queue was massive; eventually we got on and found ourselves looking at Alcatraz. Odd though, it sounds it doesn't look that far from land but apparently the undercurrents stopped most if not all prisoners from escaping. Time for lunch so off to Fishermans Wharf. The place was buzzing, a magnet for tourists alike but it had a nice atmosphere. I tucked into a lobster roll, my partner ordered a tortilla. The sun was shining, it was a lovely day. Time to go back to the hotel for a wash and brush up for the evening’s entertainment. We had a chat at reception again and were told, by about 7.30 to 8-ish this evening, we would not be able to see the other side of the the street as the fog would roll in off the bay; we couldn’t wait to see it. When we got downstairs full of expectation, we didn’t see not an ounce of fog: what a disappointment. Unfortunately, the receptionist was someone else, the other one would be back tomorrow and we would be having words. By then is was time for a well deserved glass of wine. This city isn't easy to walk around. The hills are big and in the heat..! Something I noticed straight away on our first evening was that this city takes on a different feel at night. Not one I particularly liked, the homeless and beggars appeared from nowhere and were everywhere. Hands reaching out at every corner making me feel very wary and not so relaxed as I had hoped. Dinner over it was time for an early night. After all, it had been a long first day. After breakfast next morning we drove around to the Golden Gate Bridge which was almost covered in fog but still very impressive. It seemed pointless driving across as we would see nothing so we left that for another time. We took the car back to the hotel and headed down to the bay again, where we came across lots of old boats of all descriptions. It just happened that today entry to them was free, what more could you ask for. We went and had a look at the old San Francisco to Sausalito ferry and a few others. That afternoon we headed off to the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (SFMOMA). It was quite busy but we managed to see all we wanted. ‘Museumed out’ we headed back to the hotel for a bit of R&R. On the way in I mentioned about last night’s missing fog; only to be told "it will happen tonight”, which it didn't. We got the bus around to the Castro. First off a glass of wine in a bar at the beginning of the Castro. My first impression was that the place seemed a bit forlorn but we would leave our final judgement until we had walked around a bit more. We had dinner here in a surf & turf restaurant and very nice it was too and very popular. Next to check out the nightlife. Again we didn't seem to come across a single bar that suited us but at least we gave it a go. Time for the bus to the hotel and still no fog… The next day would be our last. As we would be flying that evening we decided to make the most of it. First stop Russian Hill made famous for us by Armistead Maupin's series of books Tales of the city (well worth a read…). The view from the hill was wonderful and I can understand where the inspiration for the books came from. We sat down in the park to catch our breath. The hills are steep and not ideal for walking, but the view from here over the skyline out towards the bay was unforgettable. Next back to town for some last minute shopping like you do, write a few post cards over a glass of wine and just enough time to see the fog; after all it was our third evening. I will now call it ‘scotch mist’. It never appeared again. Luckily, our favourite receptionist was on duty and laughed, saying “this never happens, now you've got a reason to come back”. We thanked him for a wonderful stay, saying “yes we will be back’. With that our trip to San Francisco was over.
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GaryBorn in Chiswick West London, grew up in Royal Berkshire, currently living in Amsterdam, the Netherlands Archives
March 2016
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