Our week with prince george.

 

Lets see... London...

Tom and I had completely different experiences on our flights to London... Whilst he sat next to some normal quiet people on both of our flights, I had the joy of sitting next to 3 loud annoying wiggly children on our flight to Frankfurt, who enjoyed climbing over me and having arm wrestles which always ended in me getting elbowed in the ribs. Then, on our connecting flight to London I sat next to a man who was not fond of personal hygiene and as a result smelled like a dumpster. Here's a free travel tip: I would advise everyone to shower before flying on a long haul flight (but I bet you were going to do that already because you're not a jerk).

 

There was a heatwave the week we were in London which is as common in Britain as locust plagues so the Brits couldn't cope and took to fainting regularly on trains, in malls, on the street... everywhere. So it was a great week for us to have decided to book to stay in dorm rooms with no air-conditioning. Our first night in London was hell. I say this because from what I gather, hell is meant to be pretty hot. And our room at Clink78 was so hot my face nearly melted off. Bonus: the room also doubled as a bikram yoga centre and sauna. 

 

We were then moved to the travelodge next door for our second night but were woken up nice and early by fire alarms which turned out to be real, causing us to spend our Saturday morning standing in a park in our pajamas doing roll call with a fire warden. We were extremely hungover and had planned on sleeping in. Trying not to throw up on the squirrels in the park was not on our to-do list.

 

We moved to Umi Hostel for the rest of the week but it seemed that nowhere in London had aircon as the Brits were not prepared for temps above Rather Chilly and Jolly Brisk. The rooms at Umi were actually kilns cleverly disguised as hotel rooms and we spent every night playing a fun game of "how not to overheat and die during the night". 

 

Apart from the heatwave, London was wonderful. The British accent however, I was not so fond of (I have no idea why, it just bothers me ever so much). For example, we went to see Wicked. But I forgot that seeing a musical in Britain meant that yes, the characters would sing with British accents. So of course the songs didn't rhyme which gave me an irresistible urge to jump out of my seat run down the aisle and punch the Galinda the Good Witch in the teeth and then give her some free elocution lessons. 

 

While I was preoccupied dreaming about how to best decapitate a musical theatre performer, Tom was being a superhero. I say this because the definition of superhero is someone who saves people (and is good looking, there I said it) and Tom did indeed save someone's dear old Nana while we were in London. As we stood on an UP escalator chatting about how British people are apparently incapable of smiling whilst traveling on the subway, a little old lady standing ahead of us fell backwards like a wrinkly little plank. Instead of cartwheeling head over heels down the near vertical escalator to her metal stair death, she instead fell neatly into Tom's outstretched arms. Pause here for "awwww" moment and Superhero medal ceremony. After Tom had received a good dose of grandma gratitude we went on to explore London and do the following things:

 

- Went to the Tower of London, where we saw the 46 cannon salute to the Royal Prince. Oops I let it slip, yes it is in fact a boy...  

- Witnessed everyone in London go baby-mad over their new princey-wincey (who unfortunately is not named Pocahontas) 

-Went on an amazing walking tour of the city sights and a Jack the Ripper Grim Reaper tour where we learned grisly gruesome tales and met a real (certifiably crazy)"Ripperologist". 

- Dined in Brick Lane where we enjoyed the best Indian food ever and the company of my dearest friend Millie of Melbourne who happened to be halfway around the world at the same time as myself! 

-Explored Shoreditch and Kensington

-Wined and dined with my lovely ladyfriend Ellie (who happens to be the best bag babysitter in Britain, nay the world...)

- Did a bit (read: a tonne) of shopping at Portobello markets 

- Saw the changing of the guard (into a bear...) sorry couldn't help myself...

-Fell in Love with Primark

-Chilled with Bruce willis and Helen Mirren at the RED 2 premiere... from a distance across a crowd of hundreds... still counts.

-Got all excited for our Topdeck Tour, which is well and truly over as I am posting this but I'll do my best to blog about it soon anyway...

 

Stay tuned for tales of Topdeck.

Well worth the wait. 

EW YORK, NEW YORK

 

Yes, this blog did get sick for a short period and it very nearly died (as did I, more about that later) but it survived despite my lazyness and busyness and it has risen to post again! So, where were we? Ah yes, New York, the concrete jungle where dreams are made and where tom and I wanted to move to after spending a week there.

 

We stayed in the Upper West Side in a small boutique hotel which couldn't have been in a better location. We were one block from Central Park and across the street from the museum of natural history. Plus down the street was an awesome deli that provided us with brekky bagels each morning and a store called Insomnia Cookie that sold gooey chocolatey heavenly cookies at 3am when you needed a midnight post-broadway snack. We were a stones throw from the subway, on a pretty tree lined street of a quiet residential area of apartment buildings. Our first day in New York involved a sleep in. In fact, every day in New York involved sleep-ins which got later and later. I put this down to 3 reasons.

1. It was partly due to our big days of walking and late nights seeing shows.

2. Our driving trip was finally catching up with us. We had many miles of road trip tiredness to sleep off. 

3. We're on HOLIDAYS y'all! 

 

Both Tom and I were struck down with a terrible illness upon reaching NY. It is known as "show fever" and results in a person going to a crazy number of Broadway shows in a small space of time. Show Fever caused us to see 4 broadway shows in one week which I will quickly give my "Margaret & David" style review of now: 

Jersey Boys - got last minute tickets from Broadway Genius guy in Times Square. Was pleasantly surprised. Not so much by the acting, but the singing was great. Afterwards Tom sang in a Frankie Valli high pitched baby voice for days. Annoying. 

Avenue Q - off-broadway puppet show. Think Sesame Street on drugs. Like children's television with an M15+ rating. Enjoyed watching puppets sing about hilariously inappropriate things in a cute manner. 

Annie - a last minute decision, despite sitting so high up that we were basically in the roof, this was an amazing musical. The combination of ridiculously talented child stars, live dogs on stage, nine hundred set changes, elaborate costumes and props, and Jane Lynch (of Glee) as Miss Hannigan was fantastic.

Book Of Morman - can't believe we got to see this as it was booked out until September. However by randomly showing up at the box office and charm-storming the ticket seller we somehow got 2 great tickets at a ridiculously cheap price. Thanks be to the Broadway Gods. By far the best musical I have seen. It was hilarious, obscenely rude and wildly inappropriate, clever, witty, and everyone should see it. Unless you are Mormon or old or easily offended, in which case stay home with your cat as you will suffer a stroke if you attend.

 

Our show fever could not be cured by shows every night and ended up causing us to seek out a place called Stardust Diner where every waiter is a wannabe star biding their time by serving fries with a side of "Somewhere over the rainbow" to tourists before they make it to Broadway. 

 

We also went to a taping of Letterman. As we were wandering Times Square on our first day in New York we were approached by an NBC page who offered us tickets to the show. We rushed to the studios and soon we were being coached on how to laugh and how not to scream. (No hens nights/girls gone wild "Woooooo !" screams allowed). Then we clapped and cheered and saw Salma Hayek in the flesh and laughed when we were told to. 

 

Other things we ticked off the to-do list were:

- Rockefeller 

- Empire State Building

- Bike rides through Central Park

- Museum of Natural History 

(I am now an expert on dinosaurs and whales. oh and tom found a lot of monkeys that he is related to)

- Yankees game - we must have been bad luck for the ball game cos they lost. I had no idea what was going on but enjoyed drinking large colorful beverages and cheering at random times and befriending the elderly couple next to us (who were amazed to find out that in "Ahstraya" we actually measure our alcohol when pouring drinks, shock, horror)

- Comedy Show (after getting ripped off with fake tickets by some Times Square creeps we ended up getting free tix to another show instead)

- Skyline walk

- Toms Diner from Seinfeld

- Sephora addiction developed

- MoMA - Look I'm going to be really honest here and say that whilst MoMA houses some amazing exhibits and collections of paintings, the modern art section is complete and utter bullshit. Not all of it is bullshit, but a large quantity of the "art" looks like something I could do if I was a) bored b) having a schizophrenic episode of rage c) coked off my head or d) all of the above. Painting one plank of wood with black paint and leaning it against a wall is something I can see if I look in a garage. Leaving a canvas blank in order to "defy society's conventions" isn't new-age, it's effing lazy. Oh and collecting your hair and toenails over a period of twenty years and then keeping it in jars? I thought that's what crazy people who lived under bridges did but apparently, no it is now a legitimate art form documenting the human life cycle. Call it what you want, it's disgusting any way you look at it (more disgusting from a close angle I'd say). The artist of that particular exhibit should be on My Secret Addiction or Hoarders: The Toenail Special. 

 

Highlights:

- Finding a bag of drugs on subway floor and selling it for an estimated street value of $140,000. (kidding, but not about there being drugs on the floor of the subway) 

- Getting into a tip war with the rude waiter at TGIF who tried to con us into tipping 30% of the bill and got super argumentative when we told him that after waiting 1 and a half hours for our food we weren't going to tip more than ten percent. He then decided to have the last word. So did I. It went on for a while. We won. 

 

Five weeks into our holiday and we said farewell to America and boarded our plane to the UK.

I hear London calling.

 

 

 

The Wild West Coast...

From San Fran to Santa Monica

 

San Fransisco

 

Driving into San Fransisco we experienced flashbacks of our downtown LA ghetto experience however we drove on to a less "scarier than rabies" area of town where we stayed in an awesome USA hostel. After a day exploring the stores on Haight-Ashbury we headed to the 4th of July celebrations down at the docks. We had been promised spectacular fireworks but were surprised to find that American fireworks have nothing on Skyfire. A point for Canberra. Seeing a car get firebombed was exciting though. Obviously the owner of the car was not as thrilled that part of the firework display had ended up taking place in the front seat of their vehicle. A 4th of July Kings game resulted in a very wobbly bike ride across Golden Gate Bridge the following day and after a foggy but fun journey across the bridge and a ferry ride back across the bay from Sausalito we were on our way down the west coast on the 101.

 

Monterey

 

All I remember about Monterey is that there was no sunshine which was unacceptable as it was our first stop along the American coastline and I was in desperate need of a beach day. I did however see otters in the bay which were hilariously entertaining and made me clap my hands together with glee like a crazed toddler. We did visit Cannery Row but it was super touristy making it hard to picture how it would have been during the Great Depression. But good on Steinbeck for writing a book that caused streets to be renamed. I'll achieve that someday but I'll make sure my name is the title of my book so that I end up having a city named after me. Take that John. 

 

Santa Barbara

 

Santa Barbara was the ultimate chilled coastal location. Palm trees lining the beaches and pretty piers and parks along the coast.

Highlights were:

- Experiencing a spontaneous mini music festival on the beach at sunset one evening where local hippies had gathered with all kinds of weird instruments and were jamming. Anyone who stopped to observe the musical flash mob was pulled into the performance and given maracas or chimes made of dried starfish or other such hippie art creations.

- Making the mistake of taking our waiters drink advice at dinner one night and ending up trying to down possibly the girliest, worst cocktails on the face of the earth. Tom learned the valuable lesson that if your cocktail arrives with whipped cream and nine types of fruit decorations it must be sent back immediately or you shall be forced to forever search in vain for your dignity (it was lost the moment he took a sip from the colourful curly straw)

 

Santa Monica & Venice Beach

 

I may or may not have forced Tom to take a driving detour through Calabassis on the way to Santa Monica. Okay, I will admit it now as it seems only fair that I trash my reptuation after that last dig at Tom's cocktail consumption in Santa Barbara...

 

Hi, my name is Ashley and I have a serious problem. I am a reality TV tragic. No seriously, bad reality TV shows are like a drug to me. I get a serious high from watching the misfortunate or magnificent lives of other people filmed solely for my sad viewing pleasure. I secretly enjoy watching TV's trashiest content, a guilty pleasure made ten times worse by the fact that I am a journalism graduate who according to my flashy "look at my uni skills" website is an educated bright young mind with a keen interest in current affairs and consumes only quality news programming. The opportunity to undertake some shameless self promotion at this point in my blog post is not lost to me so check out my site here and offer me job!)

Anway, the point is... I would shamefully choose The Block SkyHigh or Animal Hoarders over a groundbreaking SBS special on third world famine. I am sorry world but I sadly don't mind knowing how clean someone's house REALLY is or if the general public of south London would rather snog, marry or avoid various skanky young women. 

 

Back to stalking the Kardashians though, for that was the purpose of the attempted stake out I staged at one of California's most private gated communities. Yep that's right, I couldn't ever get near their houses. I wasn't surprised though. In my heart I knew I would never get a glimpse of reality TV royalty but I kind of had a little pipe dream about Kris adopting me as an extra on the show. I would of course change my name to Kashley and as the newest member of the K-clan I'd be given a Swiss bank account and diamond encrusted car keys to an Audi. I would also dye my hair black and start saying horrific things like "I'm super bummed I didn't get a pet snow leopard this summer". Anyway, brat dreams aside, the mega mansions up on the hills were impressive even from a distance as were the beach properties nestled along the Malibu coastline.

 

Santa Monica was amazing for shopping and Venice Beach was a tourist madhouse but still provided us with lots of fun and entertainment such as stumbling across a body juggling class at the beach which consisted of circus performers, gymnasts, dancers, body builders and a Greek Adonis throwing each other in the air and generally making every passerby feel fat and lazy. We also stopped at Venice Beach and had the joy of seeing a lady marching up the street punching strangers shopping bags and screaming loudly... a perfect example of why not to do crack kids.

 

We were also accosted by a gang of rapper wannabes who forced us to listen to their mix tapes hoping we would sponsor them for a million dollars so they could be the next MJ. Another fun part of the day was being chased by a Jamaican dude selling his reggae for kids CD (it was actually awesome, imagine Bob Marley singing the alphabet and I'm A Little Teapot). We checked out Muscle Beach although it was clearly a rest day for the roid munchers as there were no man-mountains to be seen. We also discovered that for only forty dollars we could get a medical marijuana license from dodgy "doctors" dressed in neon green scrubs who patrolled the beach strip offering free consultations. After strolling the promenade and watching five year old skate pros doing Tony Hawk tricks that made me feel inadequate and unskilled we headed back to LA to return our Jeep. After a teary goodbye (actually it was joyous as the car company forgot to charge us underage additional driver taxes) we headed to LAX for our last night in California. 

 

Coming soon to this blog...

A week in New York City.

 

What Happens In Vegas...

(The heat wave part)

 

 

Our trip to Vegas was exactly like the plot of The Hangover so I probably don't need to go into much detail... Except to say Vegas was just what you'd expect based on movies you have seen minus throwing mattresses off the roof of the Bellagio and stealing cop cars. I'd sum it up as "Flashy, Fabulous and Full of Fake Tanned Fulltime Alcoholics". There also seems to be a rule in Vegas that a pokie machine MUST be made for every TV show ever created. Even if it's a terrible show. I want to know who wants to play the slot machine of Survivor Season Ninety or try to bet how valuable items are in a pokie game of Pawn Stars?

 

Whilst I didn't play either of these exciting games I did see two amazing shows whilst in Vegas. Rock of Ages at the Venetian provided me with front row seats to every 80s pop rock song I knew (and many I didn't know, that area is Tom's forte). Best of all was "O", the aquatic Cirque Du Soleil show at the Bellagio. It was well worth paying an obscene amount of money as it is by far the most amazing show I have ever seen. The same night that we saw "O" at the Bellagio, a performer in another cirque show in Vegas died. During a performance at the Venetian one of the trapezists had their safety wire snap mid act and fell to their death making us realise just how dangerous the shows are and that what we had witnessed the night before was truly incredible. The next night it was our turn to witness something terrible when we attended the show held at Treasure Island every evening called "Sirens Cove". Sure, nobody died but I could feel the crowds expectations dropping at the same rate as the Siren's energy levels.  This show consisted of several skankily dressed uninerested strippers who, when they weren't being underpaid as half naked black jack dealers in the Casino, pretended to be a band of merpeople (or pirates, it was very unclear) strutting around on a giant pirate ship docked on the Vegas strip. After miming a series of terrible Moulin Rouge style songs to a badly pre-recorded audio track and butchering some Britney Spears style dance routines they proceeded to try to woo some body builder sailors on another ship. This was followed by a large explosion of fire that probably burned the majority of the scantily clad pirate hookers skin off. To say it was awful was an understatement.

 

 

Highlights:

-The Bellagio fountains (who knew water could dance like that)

-Listening to a group of severely obese drunk girls argue about whether or not they should go to Phat Burger for a midnight snack or ten. Irony was not lost on myself and Tom.

- Being harassed by a junkie who was trying to hand out handwritten poetry books entitled "The Difference Is Me". See comment re irony above. 

- Watching groups of girls strut up and down the strip in their swimwear with Eiffel Tower shaped ten litre drinks strung round their necks. Note: If you need a lanyard to carry your beverage then you're probably an alcoholic or about to make a bad decision. Also a g-string is not pants. Never pants. 

-The heat wave of 46 degrees also made our trip to Vegas thoroughly enjoyable. Who doesn't enjoy feeling their skin melt every time they venture outside? 

 

Death Valley

 

As we drove out of Vegas and into the desert we were faced with signs reading "Last service station for 100 miles" so we figured refuelling was a must before we were on our way. And that is how we ended up at the Alien Cathouse, a "creeperiffic" establishment in Area 51 in the Nevada desert. This pink dilapidated building boasted an Alien Museum, Cafe and Brothel. Oh and petrol. The museum (a term which clearly needs to be defined to some people Ie. the museum owner) consisted of t-shirts and beach towels printed with "aliens exist" and nude alien people. All of which were for sale, so you could literally buy the museum. Next door was a brothel. Yes, next to where children were lining up to buy alien towels was the "cat house". I assume this meant the ladies working there owned cats or dressed as cats or were catty or were aliens posing as cat ladies but we didn't stick around long enough to find out and after escaping from the worst gas station in Nevada with no increased knowledge about aliens and no ET sightings we were off to Death Valley. 

 

Driving into the valley were met with views of colorful rock formations and lakes of glittering white salt and a temperature of 54 degrees. NOTE: Never go to Death Valley in summer unless you want to experience having your skin bake like a potato in an oven. It made Vegas seem mild. After hiding out in our air conditioned room we attempted to walk across a street. I suddenly knew how ants feel when a magnifying glass shines on them and heats them to exploding point. The staff at the ranch did not seem phased by the Day After Tomorrow temps, boasting that the valley holds the world record for hottest temperature on earth (136 degrees Farenheit). We asked them why the hell they lived in Death Valley. They didn't seem to know why. 

 

Yosemite National Park

 

We escaped the Valley of hellish heat and drove on to Yosemite National Park. I'm going to say something now that may shock you.. but I think Yosemite is as amazing as the Grand Canyon if not MORE SPECTACULAR. Granite cliffs, pines, sequoia trees, rivers and streams, wildflower meadows, elk and deer, squirrels and wood cabins won me over as we drove into the Yosemite valley. Before being allowed to enter the camp as the base of the valley we we required to watch safety videos that informed us about black bears who at the smell of a peanut would not hesitate to rip the roof off our beloved Jeep during the night. The fact that this video made me super excited to see a bear rather than fearful may be slightly worrying to some but unfortunately I didn't cross paths with any bears whilst in Yosemite despite my midnight wildlife walks where I prowled around the edge of the campsite by torch light like a hesitant Bear Grylls. After the worst sleep ever on a camp bed from World War II which attacked my leg with a vengeance not commonly found in fold out beds (Okay so I tripped and fell) and a total of zero bear encounters we decided to do an easy climb up to a waterfall. This became a mega game of Twister style skill and agility as we attempted to find the best way to get across the slippery steep rocks leading to the base of the falls. 

 

Highlight: 

Enjoying the company of a group of hippies staying in our camp who had given up their jobs and worldly possessions in favour of being crazy and weird and not washing instead. The guys wore hemp skirts (pants are way too restrictive man) and called each other by names like Starfox, Riverpeace and PalmLion.

Apparently by abandoning a normal name and adopting two stupid completely unrelated words as your name you will unlock happiness and peace in your soul. Or something like that, I forget exactly what KnucklePig and TeatowelBee were raving on about while they sewed hemp bandanas into tiny makeshift slings for injured racoons. 

 

Tales from the Road Trip...

 

Whoever said that two's company and three's a crowd clearly didn't own a jeep. The addition of Jerome the Jeep (see previous post for the inside joke on that one) or The Dark Knight as our delightful new ride was called did nothing but improve our trip tenfold. We loved his (I think it was a he) shiny Jeep exterior and felt like rockstars as we cruised the freeways behind tinted windows. Inside our ride however we weren't sitting back sipping on Chandon, we were being an A-team of driving expertise and navigational skill that would have impressed explorers the world over. I guess Burke and Wills didn't have the fourth member of our travelling party though... a GPS nav system by the rocking name of Garmin (Van Buuren). Her velvety voice steadily guided us through many long lefts and tight rights and we only ended up facing oncoming traffic (and death) on one occasion. She was worth every penny extra that her company cost us and we were delighted to have her and her robot voice along for the ride.

 

The roads were long and winding and also extremely boring and straight at times, taking us from the lowest valley in North America, to mountains 9945 ft above sea level. Along our route we stopped at the following places and saw the following delightful/disturbing things...

 

Palm Springs, California

 

A hot desert oasis that wowed us with palm trees, green gardens and windfarms in neat rows. 

We stayed at a resort that was awesome but whose brightly coloured neon walls whilst being uber on trend were also migraine-inducing. The aerial tramway that took us from the hot red desert up 8000 ft above sea level to rocky mountains and pine forests was a highlight as was seeing squirrels for the first time and squealing like a three year old. It was pathetic. But so was the level of cuteness emitted by the Squirrelson Family.

I also enjoyed watching Tom get hit on by the most camp tanned guy in Palm Springs who, after giving a sexual wave to my boyfriend proceeded to gush about his love for Australians and Kylie and Porpoise Spit. We also thoroughly enjoyed** spending two hours at an emergency medical centre where I was diagnosed with TMJ (short for jaw that moves like a creaky swing). Apparently not being able to move one side of my jaw without excruciating pain for five consecutive days is not normal and one should not try to fix it by trying to open their jaw as much as a python who is trying to eat a gazelle. Oops. The man next to us, who was at least one hundred years old did amuse us by loudly announcing his "hankering for ribs" as he was carted off for blood tests. Anyway, I got my jaw-numbing drugs, numbed my pain and we were off to our next destination.

** enjoyed here meaning hated.

 

Scottsdale, Arizona

 

Arriving in this small town next to Phoenix was like stepping into an old western movie. Only lamer. We stayed at the local ho-jo (which is in fact NOT slang for brothel nor is it a gang-related term of endearment.)  Upon checking in we were greeted by a crazy old receptionist who waggled (yes, waggled) her finger at me and said "no free rides here, darling" like i was trying to rip her off when I politely asked what time breakfast was. This delightful encounter was followed by amazing Mexican food & margarita madness. 

Highlight:

Watching Tom shoot a gun for the first time at the largest indoor gun range in America, The Scottsdale Gun Club. Or rather, watching Tom jump higher than a Zulu tribe every time the man in the lane next to his fired his mega-gun (a sawn off Magnum that literally blazed with fire with every shot). 

 

Williams, Grand Canyon

 

We then rolled into the small historic route 66 town near the Grand Canyon. We stayed in a hostel that backed onto pine forest and lay awake at night expecting to hear the sounds of a black bear ripping the roof off our jeep to get to my pretzel stash. After feeling like tiny insignificant specks in the great landscape of the canyon and trekking down the bright angel trail (not all the way because that shit is for Sherpas and Bear Grylls) 

Highlights were:

1. Overhearing this stupid conversation at a Canyon Info Sesh:

Stupid Tourist: "Are the elk that come up to the visitor lodges in the evenings trained to come up and eat the grass?"

(Spoken in accent that implies stupidity)

Ranger Who Looked Like Rolf Harris: "No sir, they are elk. That is just what elk do. Elk eat grass"

(Spoken in accent of Butch Cassidy and/or The Sundance Kid)

 

2. Watching Tom's descent down the steep and dusty Bright Angel Trail in his choice of (inappropriate) footwear; thongs. Many a hectic swearword was uttered due to toe stubbings, awkward tripping, and snake bites (not really but you're asking for it wearing "flip flops" to climb down a cliff face).

 

3. This should have been Highlight Number One but I choose to laugh in the face of re-formatting (and I am inherently lazy). We also visited the greatest place on earth... BEARIZONA! A wildlife drive-thru if you will, where we were served up amazing sights of every animal on earth (minus a million species or two) and got so close to bears that we could smell the honey in their fur. This is a lie, there were no honey-coated bears of any sort, only sleeping ones. The bear cubs were beyond cute and having falcons swoop your head and miss clipping off your eyebrows by millimetres during a wild bird show is a fun way to look death in the face.

 

Soon to be posted (when I can find wifi that is not as weak as a baby otter): What Happened In Vegas

 

LA... a love story (not)

 

Oh Los Angeles... You are not the city I expected to meet...

 

After years of religious schooling in LA lifestyle 'dos and donts' from the likes of Lauren and Kristen of Laguna Beach/The Hills I was ready to roll into LAX like a true local. But instead I ended up with a serious case of "Pen Pal Pains". The symptoms of this disappointing condition are similar to the feeling you finally get when you meet your childhood pen pal who you have scribbled many a lengthy letter to over your primary school years and in return have received exciting exotic news from your faraway friend... but upon meeting them you realize your letter-love is all based on lies and the golden curls and blue eyes of popular Carly from Whatever School Is Furthest From Yours are replaced with the metallic smile of Carlos the creepy eleven year old boy who has more braces than teeth. This sinking sadness and the realisation that people will lie to you in your life (shocking yes) and that the postal system is an outdated mode of communication is similar to what i felt after my first 48 hours in LA.

 

Our hostel was in The Ghetto otherwise known as downtown LA. This area could be described as "up and coming" which also means "as scary as a rapist after dark". In our first fifteen minutes of jetlagged wandering we were accosted by Jerome, a seven foot black guy who was also a junkie and crazy philosopher to boot. He befriended us while we misread a map like lost tourists and offered to show us to the subway. As we followed him down a deserted escalator I began to feel like I was in a murder mystery where I was about to get murdered and the mystery was why we had ever followed J-dog down a dark tunnel. After showing us where to get tram tickets (and A-grade heroin) our new pal began requesting that we "help a brother out" while scratching at his track marks. We ran from our brother with two thoughts in our minds:

1.

People on the street who are friendly want your money or your kidneys or both

2.

"People who spend a lot of time together end up resembling each other, this process is called a blend."

- Jerome "Shooting Up" Gang Member, June 19, 2013

 

Needless to say we soon moved to a less beggar-boho part of town... the sunset strip. We celeb spotted fruitlessly unless you count the man who we saw running through six lanes of traffic chewing on his own forearm like it was a kebab. He probably gained a lot of local street cred from featuring on the second season of America's Most Violent Criminals. Overall, LA was hot, touristy and after we had stuck our hands in lots of sweaty concrete prints at Graumans Chinese Theatre we were ready to sleep sporadically till our jetlag wore off. 

 

We began our days with a complimentary breakfast of high energy foods such as Sugar and Sugar's friend Processed Sugar. Waffles and juice and oats and yoghurt all taste the same when sugar is 90% of the ingredients. But what better than sweet treats to give you the energy of a seven year old on Christmas morning when a day of walking the city streets lies ahead?

 

Universal Studios was a highlight of the week. On the tour of the studio backlots and sets we learned a lot about what goes on behind the camera during the filming of our favourite shows. We also learned that if you are the size of a dugong and require a motorized cart to transport your immense weight around amusement parks you will automatically get to go to the front of hour long lines. Note to self: Eat more before next theme park visit.

 

LA highlights included:

-Universal Studios

-Graumans Chinese Theatre

-Walk of Fame

-Sleeping

-Watching washed up musicians try to impress creepy young punk rock girls with air guitar riffs at the Whiskey a go go

- making friends with lovely LA locals aka rocket scientists at the Viper Room and watching their friends perform in their awesome band on stage.

-Watching Tom ride a mechanical bull using only his legs which resulted in groin related injuries and much laughter. 

-Watching Tom get threatened by random angry guy (probably Jerome's second cousin) on subway when Tom accidentally bumped him. "Yo, pushing me in my back? Probably not a good idea bro" (threatening "come at me bro" stance assumed)

 

And then we picked up our Jeep...

Read on for the Road Trip.

 

 

meet my new bestie: trip advisor

 

One of the best parts of planning an overseas holiday? Choosing your accommodation (although gloating about your upcoming trip and making friends and coworkers insanely jealous with the mere mention of Italy or Paris is also highly rated). Whilst many people hate the hassle of hunting for a home away from home I get as excited as a kid whose parents have doubled their daily dose of Ritalin when i think about the challenge of going online to get the best bargain.

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And making my so much life easier during my searches for beds abroad was the trusty travel site trip advisor. Yes, it's a place where disgruntled whingers with too much spare time and no sense of adventure can complain about the most trivial and ridiculous crap. But it's also a blessing for the eager young traveller like myself who is seeking to save money but also doesn't want to end up with a bad case of bed bugs or sleeping on a stained mattress which someone was once (probably) murdered on.



Best part of the site? The "traveller photos" section. It's the real deal. You can see what you're really going to be staying in. Which is a damn good thing because let me tell you, after extensive travel-site traipsing, descriptions of 250 words or less can be extremely deceiving...
"cosy" - also means a room so small you can't do a star jump. or swing a cat. which could be something i find myself wanting to do one day in the swiss alps.
"refurbished"- does not always mean nice and new, can also mean "we have painted over the scratch marks on the walls which were the result of an exorcism".
"street view"- can also describe a postcard size window looking onto an alley which doubles as a brothel and body dumping site. 
"queen bed"- becomes a very flexible term used loosely to describe beds ranging in size from 'Who's been sleeping in Baby Bear's Bed' to 'So big you could sleep seven dwarves in it'.

Sure the photos are sometimes scary and definitely don't come from a glossy brochure or a hotel website but thats why I need to see them... They tell me all I need to know about a place I might be planning on booking. Warning: you will have to overlook the crazies that visit trip advisor to vent their tourist troubles. There is no end of complaints that would make you boycott any b&b after reading just one line. For example, pessimistic posts titled "Hostel From Hell" or "Would Rather Get Knifed Than Sleep In This Scum Slum" should be overlooked... and complaints about crooked tiles or tiny faults like the size of bath towels are often written in slightly hysterical tones as if being provided with an inferior brand of hand soap is akin to being spat on by your worst enemy.

But apart from the petty posts here and there, the majority of content on trip advisor is really helpful and NOT hysteria inducing. So I've gotta thank my new mate. Trip advisor, I had known of your knowledge for many years and had occasionally come across you when booking hotels in the past, but I feel that after endless hours of clicking and scrolling through your many pages we are closer than ever and that you are there for me, holding my hand as I search for somewhere to rest my weary head whilst overseas, warding off bed bugs and broken shower curtains around the world.

Thank you for showing me that there are places out there that are safe, clean and affordable and have more than enough room to swing a cat.



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ten, nine, eight, seven...

Ten days to go and the to-do list is growing, not shrinking.

So much to do before the fun begins. 

48 hours left with my canine companion.

Sunday will see Rusty, Tom and I road tripping to Albury where my lovely aunty will be meeting us halfway to Melbourne to receive Rusty with open arms. Tears will surely be shed while farewelling my furry friend but it's not all sad seeing as he will be having a holiday of his own with two lovely dogs who are sure to let him join their Melbourne gang. I would take him with me if luggage limits allowed, however he will be much happier with family and fellow dog-lovers.

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Still, I will be sad to part with my favourite fetch player and foot rest who is always happy to see me at the end of a long day. Better start packing this puppy's bags for his big trip to Melbourne, his new home away from home...

 



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counting down the days...

Here is a travel journal that I can't lose and a way of telling the world what I am up to.

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The perfect place to share my tales of travel and photos of far away places.

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Follow my adventures as I take off to travel around the big wide world in 80 days.

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It all starts...​

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JUNE 19th 2013

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