Not unsurprisingly, I woke at around 4am. Looks like another sunrise photography session for me!
I dressed, grabbed the camera gear and tripod, my fleece hoody, and set off the very short walk to the beachfront. We’re just one small block of the main Oceanside road, so a couple of warm-up photos of the streets, neon signs and passing cars, whilst it was still dark, to get my settings sorted, and then across to the Marina.
A little known fact is that Santa Barbara is the birthplace of commercial diving, with much of the early technology pioneered here in the very early 60’s and tested in the waters around the marina.
The Maritime Museum, where we ate last night is now the home of the Purisima Diving Bell, the first lockout diving bell, that allowed divers to swim in, breathe mixed gas “air” and then continue diving. It’s been restored and sits outside the museum for all to see. Even at just after 5am.
Sadly, the sunrise was somewhat ‘flat’ due to the thick higher level mist, but I got a couple of on photos, prior to the light picking up. Not great, but they’ll do.
An early morning meander around the nearby main streets, an encounter with a hummingbird, (wrong lens and not the light to take a good photo), and then back to the hotel.
I was back well before 7am, so all was still quiet. I showered, razored my head again (it’s staying “Yul Brynner” for now), packed up, loaded the car, and published yesterday’s blog. Oh, and completed my 836th consecutive Solitaire “Daily Challenge”.
Two crap cups of “Hawaiian Filter Coffee”, and eventually there was some movement from the others.
Breakfast was a continental affair, in a small and overcrowded, but very nicely furnished lobby area. A slightly better coffee and a couple of cream cheese toasted bagels, and we checked out at not long after 9am. We did much better setting off today!
A drive around Santa Barbara, and it very Spanish-inspired architecture. The courthouse is amazing! Apparently. I missed the turn. And the Mission is also really impressive.
Charlies didn’t get out of the car. And his dad of using the DSLR is also over. I’m realising he’s probably just a tad young or maybe & more likely, it’s just a generational thing. I suspect his highlights will be getting home to play Fortnite, and getting to hotels with good internet so he can chat with his mates and watch Netflix/YouTube stuff on his phone. Shame, but I hope he does end up realising some of the stuff he’s seen is really quite impressive!
Sometimes I feel the world is just too connected. Virtual is great, but reality can be way more mind-blowing! (Yes, I know that’s two-faced when I’m writing these “blogs”).
Because of that, we took the roads back to the coast and headed East/South East and down to Los Angeles & Santa Monica, where we’re staying for the last two nights.
Last two…wow. It’s been an amazing hols. Sedona, and Meteor Crater seem so long ago!
But, all good things etc. And anyway, we’ve all reached the end of our lead. We’re all missing our Toby and are desperate to see him. Even though we know his Aunty Sheila and Jude will have made a home from home for him, we can’t wait to get back to him.
After around an hour-forty, we entered LA on the 101, and headed for the Walk of Fame and the Chinese Theatre to check out the stars, handprints and footprints.
Charlie wanted to see Donald Trumps Star. We now know why! It’s continuously vandalised to the point where they’ve fenced it off and covered it up. So people just graffiti it, instead!
A quick, expensive sandwich for each of us, in the Hollywood & Hymen Mall (I think that’s what it was called), and then off to wherever our next destination would be. I’ve abdicated responsibility now. I’ve got them this far, now it’s time for a break from logistics.
Apparently that meant we are going to the hotel but need to drift for an hour before checking in.
I tried to drive to the parking lot, that was that early scene in White Men Can’t Jump where Billy Hoyle (Woody Harrelson) first meets Sydney Deane (Wesley Snipes) and tries to hustle him like Rev. John Squares did every time I “D’d” up on him.
Parking is horrific, even though the courts are actually a parking lot, and I gave up. For now. Perhaps a pre-dawn visit is in order!
Back to the hotel and it’s one of those bloody valet park larks. “Your rooms not ready, sir. Leave your bags in the car, and here’s a ticket. Call us when you want your things and we’ll bring the car ‘round”.
That’s all too “Hello, Mr Airey. When you need a wee, just press this button, and someone will bob around and help you – at their convenience. Oh and by the way, it’s $40 a night to park in the hotel you’ve already paid a premium to stay at.” No thanks, I’m a control freak, I’ll have you know! Good grief, I’m a grumpy old bloke!
We went for a stroll on the Santa Monica Pier, which we’ve paid a premium to be opposite.
Tbh…meh! Looks nice now mind, in the dark, all lit up. I suppose we did see a mariachi version of Donald Trump, though. So it made up.
After that back to try to check in again. This time successfully. Brucey bonus was they’d not moved the car, so it was that bit easier to sort out our luggage and get in to the “pier-view” room.
A quick pit-stop and out to find somewhere for tea. I know Jane and Charlie had wanted to try the Cheesecake Factory, and having seen the menu was actually way more extensive than cheese and cake (it’s the future).
Up the lift/elevator to the rooftop
Terrace but then seated in the vast interior space. Where we sat. For around 20 minutes before we were able to get someone to actually come and serve us. Another 5 minutes and our drink was served. Well, not our drink. Someone else’s. So that was removed. Another 5 and our drinks did turn up. Via another server. Apparently our last server was “detained in the bathroom”. I’ll be honest, I’m glad they changed servers – that didn’t bode well.
We did eventually get food. Via another, and very jolly server. And it was really good. Pizzas for Charlie and I, and pot-stickers for jane with a bowl of dip with cheesy greeniness and nachos. Ask her, I can’t remember what the greeniness was. Veg of some description.
We finished, rejected the ‘check’, reminded them that there was an offer of “the drinks are on us, to make it up to you” (which it didn’t), and settled once corrected.
From there we had a plan.
It turns out that Santa Monica, like San Fran, have been taken over by a “scourge”, a “public nuisance” – shareable electric scooters! They are everywhere. Including all of the places that state categorically “no Scooters, it’s the law”. As is riding without a drivers licence or helmet, or parking in designated spots.
It’s a lawless Wild West here! Nothing has changed in a couple of hundred years. They may be iron horses of sorts, rather than the crapping, hay eating ones, but they are everywhere.
I think they’re fab. Look fun. Remind me of being a kid all those hours ago. i don’t even think it needs “legally” regulating, as is now happening. Users just need to be more responsible. Attitude not Acts of Law. Oh, well.
Charlie and I were having some of that, though! Ok, so you’re supposed to be 16 and hold a driving license since last week!
Which is where it fell apart. We downloaded the app, recommended each other and gained $5 in credit for doing so, and scanned a bar code of a “Lime” scooter. Side one of drivers license, check! Side two – not recognised. It was a no-go for launch.
And I almost missed one of the best sunsets ever. Photos only from iPhone, not DSLR, but still, you get the gist.
Back to the hotel via a local store with a few bottles of “Rebel Rouser Double IPA” for me, and a bottle of Coke, a Sprite and two bags of Skittles for the Sugar Twins.
That’s game over for today. I think it was a hard-fought draw. Not really my thing this place so far, but will try and stay open-minded for our final day.
Hollywood sign and Griffith Observatory are on the draft agenda. Let’s see what transpires, though!
Night folks! Well, not quite, it seems!
It’s 10:30pm, and for the last hour or so, the summary is as such:
People on balcony below, repeatedly smoking (forgive my naivety), huge blifters. The lass in the hotel bathrobe is full-on trollied!
I can now clearly determine if it’s a police siren or a non-ObamaCare private illness-taxi (we call them Ambulances)
I also know the difference between drift-race, nitrous-oxide-pumped, Japanese Street race cars and “American Muscle” by their very loud exhaust notes.
On that exhaust (and siren) note, I bid thee farewell!
