I pack early at around 8:45 when I hear what sounds like 7-9 gunshots in quick succession. Ah Na, probably just some noisy handyman.
|I'm finishing this post at LAX (keep it small)|
I take the red line from across the Pantages to somewhere called Sunset @ Vermont
Looki-Look Vancouver. Subway station design DOES NOT have to put people to sleep
There is enough buses criss-crossing the city.
Somewhere it is written that a transit day pass costs $7 and that the Observatory shuttle is free. $8 and 50 cents are the new prices.
|I'm on fire ;-)|
It being Sunday, Griffith Park is packed with cars. They are everywhere, even blocking the bus route. Then I'm there: Griffith Observatory.
|Point of interest|
This will probably limit the time I will spend up here ;-(
|Charlie's Angels was filmed here|
|A clock ;-)|
|Downtown LA in the distancd|
|There is a BEACH at the other end !!!|
|The telescope on my university building was 16 inches; so I'm not overly impressed|
|Live Long & Prosper!|
|a comet tail made from comet shaped jewelry !|
|Planet size envy|
|A piece of REAL lunar rock in front of a relief globe of the moon|
|If you're not giggling yet, go re-read your Douglas Adams !|
When I come out of the gift shop, I see the shuttle bus just leaving. Darn! The next one is at least 30 minutes away! And there is NO SMOKING on the hill. It's walking time yet again. It takes me about 30-40 minutes to walk to the city bus stop at the bottom of the hill and no shuttle ever passes me.
|Pine beetle or drought? No wonder they don't want anyone smoking here|
|The entrance to Griffith Park. Once I pass that sign, I will be allowed to SMOKE !!!|
|I'm walking through Bel-Air ! An I the Fresh King or is it Will Smith?|
|Nicotined-up and no more walking!|
I get off the bus across from the Pantages,
|Yes, Ringo and Paul are right above|
walk the two blocks to the hotel to pick up my backpack and there it is: Police tape
I pick up my backpack, have a fabulous curry in a Thai place across the street,
and look back to last nights hotel across the street.
|Hotel on the right and cruiser & tape on the left .|
|Not the parrot on the bus|
Right on the first bus, there is a man with a big blue parrot.
For the first half of the trip, I get to listen to which homeless shelter is preferable over others. People walk the streets with heartbreaking cardboard signs. After riding the 2nd bus for a few minutes, I notice that I am among a different class of passengers now. Younger and with much more muscle or make-up. Some carry beach towels. The closer the bus gets to Venice the more cramped it gets. And everyone gets off in Venice
I get to the beach promenade that was quiet on Tuesday and now is a turbulent SEA of people.
|The signs say Germany; the bikes say Holland|
Every 10th store is a pipe store, for $40 you can visit a doctor who might subscribe medical Marijuana to you (I kid you now), young and old and rich and poor and homeless mingle with black and white and yellow and brown in a torrent of people, Music bands alternate with painters alternate with junk artists alternate with break-dancers alternate with bums. What you won't find is that Vancouver mentality of being so much better than everyone else It's a TRIP! Walk onto the beach if you need quiet.
OK, I can breathe again, back into the maelstrom!
|He's shushing people not to tell the fire fighters that he's catching a ride|
|Not my picture|
|When I meet Peter he wears sunglasses. The similarity is shocking ;-) This graffiti with slightly different text in Venice Beach.|
Venice is dysfunctional but happy !
I also like my hotel:
|a tiny beach view from the kitchen window|
Back again into the fray
|It erects when he pulls the string ;-)|
There is a LARGE group of people clustered around a core from which emanates Drumming.
The POlice naturally finds this very suspicious
What did Stephen Stills text 50 years ago and sing so fittingly last night?
There's something happening here
what it is ain't exactly clear
There's a man with a gun over there
telling me I've got to beware!
|Jet emissions render the sky into something resembling a broken mirror|
|Santa Monica Pier in the distance|
Then I realize that these little runners following the surf in and out to be able to pick at the freshly exposed sand are the same type of bird that I saw in St. Malo in December
|Who looks content on Venice Beach?|
But the beach is gorgeous, the mood just right, and I'm distracted.
Later that night (it's almost dark), I walk to the Post Office in town to mail some postcards. At a corner close to the beach, a young homeless guy with a backpack and a guitar has spotted a Ferrari convertible in Ferrari Red right sitting at the RED light. "Hey,Mr. Ferrari, are you going 200 on the Autobahn? Why did you buy that Ferrari?" Mr. Homeless shouts at Mr. Ferrari. When the ROAR of Mr. Ferrari grinning at Mr. Homeless and gunning his engine when the light turns green has died down, I call to Mr. Homeless "They buy those because they think it makes their d**ks look bigger."
It's pretty much dark now, but I love what the camera does with the half-light in the picture below.