Venice Beach

Venice Beach at the most western end of Santa Monica, looks out over the pacific, with beautiful wide white beaches, and an eclectic range of personalities and human beings who visit and live in this beautiful place of the world.

However, we had our weirdest experiences here and watched some very “loaded” and crazy people from travelling on the bus, to on the beach itself.

The bus trip from LA to Santa Monica is 1.5 hours long and this is the express bus. You are jammed in like sardines and homeless people ride with all their belongings in plastic bags which they drag on board causing verbal arguments, I mean fights actually and they are basically harassed of the bus. Then the so called well adjusted normal people start arguing with each other and we just sat and zipped our mouths as the situations were quite volatile.

At one point the bus broke down and I thought their was going to be a riot, so we hopped of and decided to walk to the next bus stop while the rest of the people waited for a “spare bus” to come and get them.

Walking through a Mexican precinct on basically a 4-lane highway under various stages of construction, I needed to go the bathroom.  Every tree seems to have a CCTV camera and there are no public loos in sight and I am desperate. I saw this large building, which had “Administration” on the front, and I thought this would be my only opportunity before I burst! Turns out it was the Vietnam Vets retirement home and respite service, and I was welcomed at reception with interest. “Your from where??....and you want what?? But they did recognize the agony on my face and the desperation on the betrothed’s face and let me use the loo. You know the anti nuclear conversation seems irrevocably connected with NZ and I politely excused myself from this to find the next connecting bus stop with the crazies to get to Venice Beach.

The photos tell the story of the beach; we hired cruiser pushbikes and biked from Santa Monica Boulevard down to muscle (Venice Beach) beach to watch the men and women pump iron. This part of the beach resembles a shantytown disappointingly. Hawkers with everything to sell, even their own belongings. Homeless people sleeping on the dunes and the public facilities are in the middle of a huge overhaul. It felt grimy and smelt bad, but we understand that the facelift for this part of the beach is underway. It is however a funny and worthwhile experience. Marty and I went into a bar and had a couple of beers and joined the locals in watching 9 flat screen TVs all on different channels, with the locals all in different sates of inebriation. A very funny and memorable experience.

 Lunch at Bubba Gumps which was Prawn Heavan

Muscle Boys

Planking on Venice beach

Hollywood

We decided to go to Hollywood instead of Venice Beach this morning. Venice beach will be a day trip tomorrow, after acclimatizing to the heat today. It is as hot as hell, making the use of public transport quite cramped, and close especially with the added influx of people during the school holidays.

 

LA is certainly a culturally diverse place on this earth, with its very own unique existence. Only in Hollywood would I expect to see a small person that looks like Mr. T, from the A Team and photographing him was ok by the way.

There is convention for small people here in LA at the moment, which explains my concern that there seemed to be an inordinate number of small people in Hollywood. Struck by this concern led me to asking one young woman who explained to me that there were around 1500 small people that had gathered from around the world for their two yearly conference. Small people is the right terminology.

Public transport is a mixed experience with the betrothed insisting that we take the metro bus from Hollywood back to downtown LA. This took about 1 hour, and I was pleased that we shared this experience, as he now understands the efficiency and safety of the underground trains. We were entertained by the comings and goings of all sorts of people, a story that has to be told in person by Marty so I will leave that to him.

It is incredibly expensive to eat in LA, and the proximity and location of supermarkets is very different to New York. They are harder to find, and expensive. I am just having a small rest back in the coolness of the Hotel Room before we go out for the evening, when the weather has cooled and the sidewalks light up with the evening shift of pedestrians.

 I haven’t seen anyone recognizable as “famous” yet, but it will happen. We have taken a bus tour of the city and viewed the Hollywood mansions, sunset strip, Santa Monica Boulevard, Fashion District, Paramount Studios etc, and this has geographically orientated us to what we want to see in the 3 days I am here with Marty.

So the evening will unfold, and I am determined to find a great seafood restaurant amongst the sea of Italian restaurants here.

 Yoda and Zorro

Paramount Studios

Google Risk

I am at serious risk of experiencing Los Angeles vicariously through the internet, so I have been hauled out of bed and we are off to Venice Beach for the day. It is only 7.00am in the morning I might add but we are up and at em. So ladies, I will no doubt focus my attention on a cross section of photographic options today, in the muscular department..... but more so I am interested in the array of motorbikes we will see today.

The flight here was long and tiring, not telling you anything new i know. We had a Kama Karze yellow cab driver bring us into the Wiltshire Grand and arrived about 10pm USA time last night. I continue to vote LA Airport as the most arduous and hideous customs process, with 3 sets of large flights having to wait for 4 operational booths of Officers that looked like they should have been in the Gestapo. The large sign explained that the values of the Airport encompassed treating you with dignity and respect and that Customer Supervisors will take your suggestions and concerns seriously.

So, after the 12th baby crying and large families trying to organisze their kids at the beginning of the school holidays I suggested to one of the officials that it would be great to have an aisle exclusively for families, prams, babies, people with disabilities, and our elders.......and I thought I was going to be arrested.

You just have to shut up, and bear the 2 hour grueling wait for customs after an 10 hour flight. Then the Portuerican family in front of us that had not filled in any of the documentation and another half an hour. all the bags are piling up on the bag carousel  and things get heated. Kids being sick, needing the bathroom, nappies needing to be changed. Just hideous.

But we are here and I have 3 days here and Marty has 10. The hotel is lush, spectacular, has real soap and shampoo plus conditioner so I am in heaven. The towels actually dry you and the sheets on the bed are linen and crispy. Lovely. off to find some coooorrrfffeee. x

Heathrow Airport

We have arrived at Heathrow and are awaiting our Boarding call to carry onto LA. No matter where you are in the world isn't it always good to see the Koru Uniform, and be greeted by your first names by Air NZ staff. We have a superb Airline and i know we pay premium for our flights, but you really appreciate the service that comes with this.
Air Lingus, whilst cheap and on time it was a sardine tin with poorly organized seating, but I shouldn't moan should I. We made it here alive and on time and whats more I have made Gold status, so we were able to make use of the Star Alliance lounge so life is all good.

The photos below were taken last night at 9.30 pm and still broad daylight in Dublin City, where we walked with our friend Laura, enjoying the last few hours of her company, and of course Marty over imbibing on the last amounts of Guinness he could squeeze in before we left.

On to LA where the temperature is significantly warmer than Dublin, for the last part of our adventure.

 This is the statue of Molly Malone, and of course the Kiwi Boy.

The famine statues which are in the Docklands area of Dublin. An Eery calm and physical presence which is hard to describe surrounds these statues.

A Sailing boat moored on the docklands. This is at nearly 10pm last night and the light was perfect for taking photos. In fact, our friend Kim would have loved this city for taking photos, just magic light and amazing subjects. People, statues and buildings.

You haven't arrived until there is a statue of you. so what do Ronald Reagan, Paddington Bear and Michael have in common. Here is a quiz question for you Michael Holdsworth!

Well as of yesterday they are all amoung a select group of overseas figures commemorated  in the London with statues. You cant miss the Reagan in Grosvenor Square-he is ten foot tall and made from bronze and the King of Pop is a towering figure at Fulham FC Grounds, but you could pass by the little Paddington (plus suitcase) in the station by the same name.

So, are statues the new thing in remembrance? I am sitting here staring at my beloved wondering what we could design in bronze for him. I am sure that you will help me out with suggestions. love to you.

Last Photos of Dublin

For the Rocket 111 pillion riders reading this post, i have found something that we cannot live without!
Arm rests!

We have loved Ireland, every last minute of it and i look forward to returning one day.

We leave for LA early in the morning so we are off to have fun for the rest of the day and get an early night,  yeah right!

Overnight in Slane- The best meal on our trip so far!

Well that is apart from mary O'Donovans home in Bantry. Quite possibly the worst sleep for me however with the Chinese Water Torture water drip in the Ceiling and Bono's cock hen blooding screeching at 3am and then the beloved betrothed chainsawing trees down in his sleep through his nose.....I was ready to kill.

But! We did have the best meal and fun time the night before drinking argentinian wine and sampling stunning food as the pictures show. we then went to a local pub and got slaughtered with the locals watching the World heavy Weight fight, stumbled home about 1.00am where Marty decided it would be hilarious to plank outside the Garda Station.

Our blog might describe a lot of eating, drinking and frivolity and indeed we may need a period of detoxification when we get home. But we have also embarked on getting to know this country which we have both loved. I have tracked down two current institutions which are still operating with around 300 people in each of them. because of the economic climate currently, deinstitutionalisation has sadly halted. In fact, a period of restructuring services to sustain viability is underway. The disability sector is enduring very similar circumstances and advocacy issues as New Zealand.


Today is our last day in Ireland, and I am grateful that we leave from Dublin. This is a beautiful and dynamic city which hums along at a cracking pace. There is evidence of an economic downturn in all parts of the city, but the attitude and hospitality of the Dubliners is unique and upbeat. They welcome tourists and cater superbly for them.

New Castle

We wanted to stay in new Castle after leaving Belfast, but neglected to remember one thing...it was the start of the school holidays. Reminicient of "Hi de hi" we decided to travel further south, however only after fining a Rocket 111 parked in the main street.

Leaving Belfast and heading south around the coast

You may or may not have seen that the day we were in East Belfast, was the night of the second lot of riots. 6 policemen injured and 7 people arrested.

However, we are now back in Dublin, a city I love. Today is Sunday, I have to check as I have lost track.

A very early morning start this morning as the B and B we were staying at in Slane last night, had the equivalent of a Chinese Water Torture drip going on all night, and then fecking Bono’s cock hen turned up crowing its fekking head off at 3.00am this morning. Coupled with the symphony coming from my beloved in serious bursts of audio torture I thought I was having a psychotic episode.

Now to top it off I cant get Wi-Fi in this Hotel called Jury Inn so I am really really grumpy. I have to temper this though as clearly my beloved was thinking of me and bought excellent tickets to Riverdance this afternoon, which was quite simply magic.

 But lets go back to Amagh; this blog is two days behind now due to my inability to successfully get WIFI. So we left Belfast and travelled around the coast through Newcastle and wanted to stay at the flash hotel that I have photographed. Marty is in fact planking on the Lion that is at the entrance of this hotel.    I will get to that a bit later as we also got plonked in Slane and ending up planking outside the Garda (police station) after a SENSATIONAL MEAL at the Slane Seafood and Steak House.

Amagh was intensely visually beautiful, and when we arrived quite late in the evening Marty was lucky to see an Orange man parade, which he joined, where they laid the reefs you can see in the photos.

You know, my eyes are hanging out of my head and as much in all as I love you all; I have to cut the dialog short tonight and make a supreme effort in the morning when I can find a pub with access to Wi Fi. A good excuse for a Guinness for breakfast.

Belfast Day Two.

This is where Marty and I have differing opinions about Belfast. We took the double decker bus tour today around Belfast, and I admit, I felt like a Pheasant during open season. I am a little paranoid I know, but with good reason.

Here is my view. West Belfast depressed the hell out of me, and the "peace fences" that designated the different jurisdictions were formidable in their presence and challenging to my subjective experience of how people should live together. I understand completely why, it is simply seeing this which challenges your own reality. How people live in these tenuous circumstances, with the rack and ruin that surrounds them is beyond me. Burnt out buildings and derelict buildings with skinny dogs and neglected cats that pervade all the back yard gardens you look into. I felt voyeuristic and unnerved, by our ability to look into people’s lives from the comfort of our tourist bus.

Children playing in crates and large truck tyres scattered in derelict, neglected sections, staring at the tour buses like Romanian bloody refuges…..ok a bit dramatic…but this is what it looked like to me.

The murals in West Belfast, which tell the history of the scars it has endured, are powerful in their presence, and despite the tour guides insistence I did not want to get off the bus to take a better view. Barbed wire and high-rise concrete fences shrouded the churches, hospitals and most predominantly the police stations, which were heavily armed.

Now it was at this point that my camera went flat, which initially pissed me off, and then I was thankful that I could not photograph this, as 50 million other tourists on our tour bus were hanging over the edge of the bus with camera flashes popping saying “Gawd Shaaarron would you take a God dam look at that”.  Talk about sitting ducks for a sniper.

The rest of Belfast carries on immune to my observations, and yes it is beautiful, and yes it is worth exploring but I was relieved to get on the M1 and head out of Belfast and travel to Amagh where we are staying tonight in the Charleston Hotel. The same big-breasted woman who would not let me ride Conne-Simon runs this Hotel, I am convinced. They have charged us an extortionate rate and then have just told us that there is no water tonight as the road works guys have dug up the mains. I don’t mind, I will simply drink a few ciders and reflect on the fact that we have electricity and the Audi is parked behind the Hotel protected by high barbed wire and security cameras.

So, goodbye Belfast, thank you for the experience….but I am thrilled to be a kiwi and have the life we have. God save the Queen.