Last day in LA

Sunday 23. Last day in LA today, so up early and put all the clothes, shoes, handbags, dresses, skirts, hats and Flashman's small kit onto the bed for the expert packer to make it all fit. I'm sure, that if we have to open it on arrival it will all spring out like a giant jack-in-the-box. We headed off to the Getty Centre with Lady P driving and Tas navigating. Flashman was in the back providing lifesavers and amusing anecdotes. The Getty Centre was simply outstanding and we wandered about for a couple of hours managing to see only two of the four wings of the gallery before it was time to adjourn to the Getty restaurant for our lunch reservation. We decided as it was our last day that we should relax and enjoy it so it was fitting to enjoy a stunning meal in most amazing surroundings. The architecture of the Getty Centre is just out of this world and the camera is loaded with photos which I (Lady P) will post at a later date. The sculpture garden was simply inspiring and even in the drought conditions the limited garden beds of dahlias and other flowering annuals were a spectacular sight among the native grasses and succulents. Its definitely on the list of places to return to next time we're in town. 
Back 'home' to West Hollywood via sunset Boulevard and Beverley Hills to freshen up, zip up the cases and throw out the rubbish before heading out to LAX to drop off the hire car, jump the shuttle and within in an hour be checked in, through the body scanner and in the lounge sipping on a G & T. Tas leaves an hour earlier on his A380 to Melbourne so we meet him for a Stella in the bar downstairs before adjourning up to the lounge where we write up the last blog. 

Santa Monica and Venice Beach

Saturday  22nd August. Today we went to Santa Monica and Venice Beach. This was a nice little expedition led by Lady P in the left hand seat. Santa Monica was a lovely place and fairly busy and we managed a park in the lot which was right on the beach beside the pier, fairly easily. A walk to the Farmers’ Market resulted in some sun burn and a couple of peaches and a drop into Barneys for brunch. The worst food and service we have had in the US to date. Cold tacos, indifferent service and luckily for them, a reasonable if not delayed cappuccino. We tipped $2 and left in a huff. A stroll to the end of the Santa Monica Pier followed where we observed the LA masses promenading and indulging in sideshow entertainment, roller coaster rides and junk food. The remaining masses were shoulder to shoulder on the wide sandy beach or alternatively bumping into each other in the dumpy surf. Lady P wanted to ride a bicycle from Santa Monica to Venice Beach. So, we let her go and the Major and Flashman headed out like a couple of former infantrymen, on foot. Boy oh boy, what a dump Venice Beach is. Firstly we noted not an insignificant number of people talking to their imaginary friends, quite loudly and with some venom on occasion. “That’s what drugs can do to you,” the Major notes. Dirty little tarts, homeless people, crap musicians,cheap T-shirts and the worst artworks on sale you can imagine. We push on though, keeping Lady P in sight until we come to the Venice Bistro, where we need hydration. Outside is a steel band drumming away. They were drug induced hippies from the 70’s, complete with a glazed eyed, wrinkly, dancing lady, swaying (in her mind, in time) to the music. Luckily, we come to the end of this dodgy place and get picked up by Lady P in the car after she dropped off the bicycle from the hire place. A swift drive by indeed. We head home to West Hollywood at a rapid pace, via the scene of the ‘lemonade-gate’ grog shop debacle that the Major was in and did not buy grog on our arrival. He plans a stiff rebuttal in his blog regarding he whole incident. Luckily for us, a Japanese sushi bar was open and while Lady P investigated the shoe department of Target, the Major and Flashy had a beer and sashimi. After discussions on the choice of a dinner venue and a suggestion that we make a reservation, we head to Franco on Melrose, an Italian Restaurant, number 28 out of 8082 on Trip Advisor and amazingly it's just at the end of our Street. It was very good with excellent beef capaccio, ravioli, lobster pasta, beef cheeks and a decent Italian white after the bottle of Prosecco. On the walk home, we decided that a cocktail or at least a nightcap was in order, so we went back to the Mud Hen Tavern. There we met Dave. “Where are you guys from?” "Australia," we say. “I’m from Sydney,” he says. Turns out that he is ‘an actor by trade’. Mmm.. Apparently he was in Home and Away for three years. So what’s he doing serving bar in West Hollywood? Like all of them, waiting on being discovered of course. A nice enough bloke, though - but he measures all spirit pours. Just our luck, to find the only bar in America that measures the spirit pours. Nonetheless, we have our nightcaps and buy a bag of doughnuts for tomorrow's breakfast and head home.

Farmers Market and LA

Friday 21st August. A leisurely start this morning with Lady P driving us to the Farmer's Market for a breakfast of eggs, bacon, hash and bagel and a decent cappuccino.  A few hours wandering around this interesting place sees us finding the chili-lime-salt that we had around the rim of the cocktail glasses in the Sacramento food tour. Beauty, we buy four bottles. After the market, we head up to Griffith Park and the big telescope, which provides a good view of LA and the smog. A detour for beer, chips and wine at a local supermarket and home to the apartment to blog, relax, have a cold beer and a shandy. Except Flashy mixes the shandy using tonic water by mistake, but no one seems to notice. We then plan dinner. One of the interesting things about bars and some restaurants/taverns in the US, is that very often they are hidden behind a small door with no windows. As a result, they often look very dodgy and you think twice about entering. But that is a big mistake as we discovered. Just across the road, sort of, is a single small door and a little sign saying "Mud Hen Tavern". This turns out to be a voluminous space, nicely appointed with an atrium space and party lights, hipsters, wannabees and us, with all tables full and turning over regularly. We desire cocktails, and plan to wander about the neighbourhood and look for a dinner restaurant somewhere else. The Mud Hen was so good and really pumping and we were lucky to get a table - and that was only on the basis that if they get a dinner reservation we would have to go. To avoid this, we decide to have dinner there as well as cocktails. This turned out to be an excellent choice, with great cocktails and sample plates - pretzel; small blue cheese, fig and rocket pizza; smoked beef jerky; chicken waffle croquet and lamb balls (not their balls - lamb meat made into little balls) with mint. A number of cocktails were consumed along with two bottles of red. I think we made it home.

Pismo Beach to LA

Thursday 20th August. Due to Lady P's valiant effort last night, the Bitch at least wakes up, but still says 'No GPS Signal'. Flashman is not allowed to throw her out the window, so we head off on the 101 to LA, once more using the 'acute sense of direction' (Lady P's inbuilt google maps!) A brief stop in Santa Barbara for a Ruben and a cold beer in Joe's Diner, a very typical American bar with booths, tables and the long bar. Wonderful. Lady P declines and has a Starbucks coffee and a cinnamon roll, then off to LA via the incredible and efficient freeway, where the average driver is cruising along at least 10mph above the speed limit but is driving with precision and focus so that all seven lanes of traffic move seamlessly. Very impressive and barely a policeman in sight, let alone hidden radars or speed guns to detract from the drivers focus of just 'driving' rather than looking out for the hidden speed detectors. 

We arrive at our Air BnB which is a very spacious, 2 brm, 2 bathroom apartment in West Hollywood to find Tas is at the liquor store, so we naturally assume he is buying supplies. His text as to what we want is returned with the request for lemonade. Yes, Lady P has declined gin and vodka and has decided on shandies. Now, you would have thought that if Tas was actually in the liquor store he would be buying, well liquor. He returns with a single bottle of lemonade and says, "Where's the beer?" Luckily, Flashman had two bottles in his kit bag, along with a bottle of wine from Placerville, so we survived for a short while. Feeling adventurous, we head off in search of a taxi to 'The Farmer's Daughter Hotel', where Claire and Donna (Melbourne friends of Tas) were staying, well actually leaving, for Australia at 10 PM. A small difficulty in hailing a cab was resolved by dropping into a bar/restaurant, having a beer and a chat to the barman and getting the greeter to call us a cab. What's a greeter, you say? Well, in the US, you go into a diner or restaurant and the first person you see, usually a 13 yr old gal, is the greeter. A person with considerable power as she hands you over to a seater who shows you to a table or booth. Piss off the greeter and you might get 'sorry no table' or unbeknown to you, she whispers to the seater, 'give the pricks the back table.' The seater then hands you over to the waiter, who then as soon as you sit down,  hands you the menu asks you what you want to drink. Do not, and I repeat do not delay, as you may never see her again. Anyways, we have a beer and a great long chat to the very helpful barman and the greeter calls us a cab. We then get to the Farmer's Daughter, have a quick catch up with Claire and Donna before they rush off to the airport. Three plates of appetizers later, which were quite good, and we walk the mean streets of Hollywood in search of a bar.  We find the Plan Check Bar. We enter. We notice we are probably as old as the patrons' grandparents and certainly the only three over 30 in the whole place, but hey, we're hip and mozie up to the bar and order beers and cocktails. The bald (shaven of course) headed bloke next to us is drinking Bunderberg Ginger Beer. Amazing. We ask the greeter to call us a cab and for the second time tonight Flashman notices a little smirk on the greeter's face. Over the noise of the music, Lady P informs him that the young ones keep telling us older ones to use Uber not cabs. Home to our apartment and open the white wine which is now cold and then hit the bed.

Monterey to Pismo Beach

Wednesday 19th August.  Guess who we meet at breakfast downstairs? Yep, Greg and Cinti his sister. Greg is good company if you meet him once a year and he is a bit loud. The other guests slink out into the other room while he and Cinti regail us with family tales of growing up in Buffalo NY. Nice enough though and an excellent breakfast - complementary. After a brief walk around the Fisherman's wharf area of Monterery, where we observe sea lions sleeping and huge swirls of bait fish, we have a coffee at Lou lous.  There are people catching fish from the pier, so we stop to look and see what all the excitement is about. Some are catching two and three fish at a time, but when they tell us the 300 mm long fish are Mackeral, well, we feel like Texans - "That ain't no Mackerel, man, where we come from they're three feet long." We head for the coast road down the Big Sur towards our next overnight at Pismo Beach. The drive is stunning as promised, with very high hills dropping sharply into the sea. Sort of like the Great Ocean Road in Victoria on steroids. A fair bit of traffic, but as we are heading south, the pullovers and scenic spots are on our side of the road, so photo opps are easy, if not busy.

 The scenery at first is parched, brown earth but when we get to Big Sur proper, a small township with accommodation houses, camping grounds etc we are surrounded by lush towering Redwoods. No sign of any water though, at least not fresh water in rivers and streams. About half way into the journey, the Bitch quits. She just turns off and won't start. Looks like we will be back to first principles for the trip into Pismo Beach. A stop for a club sandwich and a beer at Whale Beach cafe proves to be worthwhile - Lady P maintains she sees some whale splash and we enjoy a shared club sandwich.Further along the Coast road amongst the brown paddocks once more we get to see some great big Elephant Seals frolicking on the beach, as if Elephant Seals can be described as frolicking. And then we roll into San Simeon and the turn off to the famous 'not to be missed' Hearst Castle. Previous members of the Anzac tour party had reported waits of an hour upon arriving at the Hearst Castle visitors centre but no such delays for us. We walk in the door at 1.50pm and book our Cottages and Kitchen tour for 2pm! Flashy is suitably impressed and our guide further impresses with plenty of historical facts mostly relating to the many notable visitors to Hearst Castle - including David Niven who lamented the lack of alcohol served by the Hearsts and noted that the wine poured 'like glue'. We roll down the hill and head off to Pismo Beach which Lady P finds easily without the aid of devices and we settle into our room directly on the beach. Lady P finds the ice vending machine and with the aid of our little esky we chill the gin and tonic and settle in to watch the spectacular sunset - Lady P from the beach front balcony and Flashman very unromantically from the shade of the lounge room - precious! An American diner is located for dinner and we share a hamburger and chili cheesefries. Both are excellent and Californian in size, i.e. normal not gigantic. Back to our room to pull down the Murphy bed from its hiding place in the wardrobe and a comfortable night before departure in the morning for LA.

On the road to Monterey

Tuesday 18th August. Packed up the car and cleaned the cottage this morning for our departure for Monterey. In keeping with the solemn nature of the event, SF's fog rolled in and the morning was cool and cloudy. We head up to Solarno Ave for the last time for a coffee at the famous 'Peets Cafe', top up the tank with gas and head north. Yep, Monterey is actually south, but Lady P wants to go over the San Rafael and Golden Gate Bridges, through the downtown SF and out to the 101 South to Monterey. 

We make it without too much anxiety, although we fail to pay the toll over the Golden Gate Bridge because there is 'No Stopping' and no cash lane. Flashman has visions of being dragged off the plane at LA and spending two weeks in a Federal Prison somewhere. Anyway, we make it to the Interstate and head south for Monterey. Half way there we ignore the "do a U-Turn' from the Bitch and go off the Interstate to a little pit stop at Morgan Hill and get a really good turkey and Swiss on white and a chicken salad from Safeway. Then we continue into Monterey and find the 1887 BnB called Gosby House. We are a little early but our room is ready. We have booked the smallest room deliberately as it is cheap. We get offered an upgrade to the second smallest room and grab it. Very 19th Century but cute. Drop the bags and head to Carmel-By-The-Sea. More cute but with lots of $$ signs on everything. Hotter now, and thirsty work this sightseeing, so a cooling Stella and a diet Coke at a local Italian Bistro and then back to happy hour at our Gosby House. Now, listen to this. At 4.30 to 6.30 each night, they put on free cheese and crackers and wine for the guests in the downstairs parlor. How cute. We made it at 5.30 and yes we did partake. Of course, as you will have guessed, at these sort of functions, you meet other guests; and we meet Greg. A stand up comedian from Las Vegas, en route from LA with his sister to somewhere in the Sierras for a family reunion. What a hoot. Skillfully disengaging from 'travellers' conversation syndrome', we head out in search of cool evening air and a dinner booking at the number one seafood restaurant, 'Passionfish'. This is actually very good. We decide on five appetizers. Two for Lady P and three for greedy Flashy. Scallop on artichoke patty, a wonderful fish stew, crevice of striped bass, tuna carpaccio and a fish taco, were accompanied by a sparkling Gamay, a Californian Chardonnay and a cute Napa Rose (glasses of course, there's only two of us!). We enter into a delightful conversation with a chap on the next table who is probably a famous tennis player, as he has been to Australia and well, sort of expected us to know him. Back to the BnB to discover the wonderful owners have left chocolate cake, cookies and a whole decanter of sherry out for tired guests returning from dinner. Of course!

Musings of San Fransisco, Sacramento and this area

No date in particular. There is now doubt that California is different to the rest of the US. We have been in SF, Sacramento and surrounds for two weeks and enjoyed every minute of it. There is a real multi cultural feel to the SF and Sacramento area. We notice cross race couples, that seem normal or accepted here. Most people in our area are, however, slim white folk and there are many old hippies with long grey ponytails, probably 'professors' or 'academic others', writers or the like, given we are close to the Berkeley University campus. Certainly we are in a predominately WASP area, but there are other nationalities/races here as well. Many work out and seem to love their neighbourhood. No one has said "Where y'all from?" Or "Excuse me sir?" they just seem to get a variety of accents here. Also it's very quiet. No barking dogs or crying kids. The streets we walk are well cared for in a very natural way with no front fences, nature strips all planted with native grasses and fruit trees in some cases and certainly no whipper snipped edges. Its just as if the houses, mostly Mission style cottages have been dropped into the natural environment. The footpaths (sidewalks for the Americans) go up hill and down dale over the roots of large trees and there are lots of uneven surfaces so Grannie would not fare well with Zoro the mobility scooter. There are however an abundance of pedestrian crossings, one on every street corner over a period of a couple of miles down the main street and also similar in the side streets. It certainly keeps the drivers on their toes.  It reminds us of East Malvern in the 70's, or maybe Colonel Light Gardens with hills. There are agapanthas, geraniums, hydrangeas and of course, lovely flowering eucalyptus all around the streets. Berkeley is a nice place and we are lucky to have scored a little cottage in Neilson Street to be our base in SF. 

Neilson St cottage (our Airbnb) is positioned behind a house on Neilsen St, and there is a delightful shared courtyard separating the two. A laden fig tree provides shade and there are herbs growing in planters and fuschias tucked into little corners here and there. It could be my Nana's garden in Auckland. Inside the cottage, Raza, our host, has decorated it with San Francisco pizzaz. The kitchen has yellow walls with a red sparkling benchtop - a nightmare if you are trying to wipe the crumbs away! and there are numerous eclectic pieces of artwork on the walls. Overlooking it all is a colourful witch hanging from the light fitting 

above! The toilet is bright pink with a fluro blue hand basin and water dispenser and thankfully the bedroom, set down a few timber stairs is painted in subdued colours to ensure a restful night's sleep. Skylights abound so everything is bright and light which we love and it has been a delightful home away from home for the sojourn. The only missing amenity in the cottage was an iron (and board) for Flashy to iron his shirts, but this was quickly rectified. It appears that SF people do not iron as was observed during the course of our visits to the local  

shopping precincts. Our table top ironing board and the old iron was pulled from the garden shed where it had obviously sat idle for some time.
Sacramento was likewise very pleasant, clean and green. Very Melbourne in lots of ways but quieter. Sacramento claims to be the capital of the 'farmer to fork' movement, or as we say, 'paddock to plate' and they take it very seriously. Same goes for SF and that's partly why the food scene/philosophy here is so different and so good compared to elsewhere in the US. Plate sizes are generally smaller and all about the ingredients. The coffee has been very good, even the filter coffee is OK and particularly in SF and Sacramento, baristas make espresso from real machines. We had a cappuccino at Noahs Bagel which was very good. So not like New York on our previous visit. The tourist attractions were very well done and well organised, particularly the Ferry to Sausalito and Alcatraz. The walking tours organised by Lady P were fun and professional and all delivered by volunteers. They made such a difference to the understanding of the fascinating history of California, even though we only caught a glimpse of the 19th and 20th century period. To top it all off, we had perfect weather every day from LA to LV and SF. Hot sometimes, but generally a cooling wind and a cold beverage just around the corner.