We are Kiwis Again: Lost in LA

Monday, March 24, 2008

Lost in LA

When a travel agent tells you that Bank Holiday will not affect your travel; just laugh.

Fortunately, we had this time saving plan which involved driving ourselves and our luggage to Sally's office, leaving the car there and being taken in her car to the airport. So far, so good. However, Auckland airport happens to be at the end of the most amazing route that could be chosen to get you there and, everyone in Auckland had chosen to leave work early and take the airport route for their flights to bank holiday destinations. It was Thursday which was followed by Friday which happened to be Good Friday - a bank holiday in NZ. Good Friday is observed in NZ; everything stops - unlike the UK. The sky was blue and the temperature high.

Eventually though, in good time, we arrived at Auckland International and after our emotional 'good bye' made our way throught he usual checks - this airport is actually one of the worst dealing with departures - the queuing is disorganised - after the baggage queue there is then a queue to pay the departure tax - why? - no other airport in the world raises money this way. We purchased some refreshments, magazines (I bought two 'Amature Photographers' which happened to be the UK editions.) and a zip up plastic bag to take our medicines on board. Noticed advised us to do this, trained staff told us to buy them at 'Whitcoules', but no one told us that they were free at a dispenser just around the corner into the security checking area.

We boarded the plane. Everything was normal except for the announcement from the captain who was able to say, without laughing; I quote "It is a requirement of the United States government that passenger on board aircraft to the United States do not congregrate in groups, especially in the toilet area." We had two seats at the very back of the Quantas flight, next to a friendly Australian chief cabin steward. He told me two things which stick in mind and will be explained further. Firstly, he was in LA in 9/11 and secondly Quantas pride themselves on safety, so that even if the in flight entertainment fails the flight takes off, even if this means purchasing a large amount of magines to distribute amongst the passengers. What he failed to predict was that the inflight entertainment was about to fail and that this is no joke on a long haul flight. I was trying to get to sleep by the time that they had got it working.

Another missed prediction was the turbulence. For a long period of time it was like being in a car with no tyres or suspension on the most bumpy road in NZ that you could imagine. No one slept.

At last the plane flies in to dear LAX. Once again it was on board to articulated, vertically stacked mobile sardine can from touch down to terminal building. Our friendly steward explained that this was a good system which allowed pasengers to be taken conveniently to the appropriate arrivals area. This area happened to be the same arrivals area whether you were in transit, a foreign national or a LA visitor, or even flight crew. The one difference was that the American nationals got through the system quicker and the rest of us stood in along queue for almost an hour to have our finger prints and photos taken and our documents checked. On one of the documents I positively verified that I had never been involved espionage. There were no Arab passenger, and I saw no Arabs anywhere. Why?

Through to the sidewalk at last. This is where it all goes wrong. To understand what happened next you will need some information. LAX forms almost a quadrangle with a square build in the centre concentrically placed is continuous island from which various forms of public/private transport collect passengers. On one corner is the part of the island where hotel shuttle buses collect passengers. The second piece of information is that at regular intervals down these sidewalks there are hugh supporting pillars. (Americans do not seem to object to having their sidewalks blocked by all sorts of obstacle - previous post.) When we first visited LA two months earlier we had gone beyond the departure for hotel buses corner and learned where to catch them.

Now the story. We arrived in LA with no dollars. We needed $5 to tip the bus driver. The solution was to get dollars from the ATM (the hole in the wall machine - cash point). However, it only gave $20 notes. (I have just realised that I can type $s and £s on my machine - NZ macines don't do £s). The second step of the solution was to change a $20 dollar note. I was told where to go and set off carrying a heavy bag and towing a large red suitcase and wife similarly loaded. The next part of the solution was for me to get the $5 notes myself and so with a firm "stay there" to my wife I set off. Having rounded two corners I re-entered the building found a kiosk, got my change and set off back. Having taken only three minute I was quite surprised to find that neither my wife or the two large suitacases were not there. In my mind formed the question, "What don't you understand about the phrase 'stay there'?" At this point I was convinced that my wife had simply wandered off. After walking backwards and forwards for some time and passing four helpful black gentle men who promised to violently waylay my wife should she try to pass by, I went to the enquiries desk and had her paged. More walking about, this time formulating the theory that she had decided to board the hotel bus I returned to enquiries, had her paged again and the hotel contacted. Now I was really worried. Had she been abducted for ransome, was she ill and in hospital? Where are police? What happens if you dial 911? Back to the helpful black men. "Which arrivals point did you come from?" said one. Then it dawned. I had not gone passed the second corner. Emotional reunion behind the second pillar, on the bus and to the hotel.

Time to have a Subway sandwich, have a rest, discover that your long held theory that we would arrive in the UK the day before we left the US was an erroneous theory, send emails to advise those at home as to what was happening, have a great steak and salad bar meal, try to book a tour for the following morning and get some sleep.

We arrived at the following morning earlier than I had wanted to, but this gave us time to consume a glass of superb, US orange juice and a pile of blueberry covered pancakes at the Ihop restuarant. Having packed for a speedy departure from our hotel after returning from our tour at 12.00 noon we sat and waited to set off on our tour of the stars' homes at Beverley Hills. We only chose this tour because it would get us away from this uninteresting part of LA and would enable us to get our afternoon flight. However, when we got off the shuttle bus at the starting point of the VIP tours, paid our $110 we were told that the tour had been extended and would not return until late afternoon. Our distress was noted and a plan was hatched whereby we would change vehicles at 'Prairie Drive' to be returned by 1.00. We agreed to this. Our jolly drive, Matt, pointed out the sites. We stopped at Venice beach and the boardwalk of tacky seaside shops and stall. We were advised not to use the toilets - that they would be better at Santa Monica beach. A man was playing a grand piano next to the beach on the board walk.

A Grand at Venice, LA

Aparently the toilets at Santa Monica where also disgusting. I expect that people who pay $6,000,000 for a ground floor condo don't use public toilets. Our guide was proud to announce that the ferris wheel at Sant Monica beach was solar powered.

The Ferris Wheel at Santa Monica Beach

On to the homes of the stars. So many large ostentacious buildings. One could only be appreciated from Google Earth. I did not take notes, but look at this example.