Arriving in Los Angeles, I trade in Gabriel Garcia Marquez for John Fante. One Hundred Years of Solitude at times felt like an enhanced and saturated version of many of the places we visited on our journey. The rich tapestry of episodes might have been illustrations to our very own storybook, and a kaleidoscopic tour of South American history and humor. Coming to California, I have a tear in my eye for this very human, universal story, and the fact that turning the last page marks, for us, the end of Summer and the end of our adventures in South America.
But it's good to be here. Visiting friends and family in the US of A before we head back to school and back to London. Our friends live next door to a house once belonging to Marilyn Monroe. My Week With Marilyn makes for a happy in-flight coincidence (starts out charming, ends up a caricature, but a few delightful moments and some fine acting in parts). But it's John Fante's Ask the Dust that takes centre-stage as the augmented reality app for Los Angeles.
There are some really old trees in Brentwood. Beautiful, massive Roman pines. The towering palms that look like they're holding up the sky. For the longest time, this was the frontier, and I think for many East Coast travellers it still is. But Los Angeles has long started to create a history of its own. Faux-Tudor has assumed the designation of an architectural style with its own associations and rightful place in history. Witness the historic-contemporary resonance of Chateaux Marmont, for example: "In the hierarchy of place here, there is no more exalted locus than the Chateau Marmont. The hotel high above Sunset Boulevard has launched a thousand clichéd magazine profiles, is legendary for bad behavior by its inmates, and is the place where business is not so much done as memorialized.' (NY Times).
The "Armed Response" signs among the majestic trees, with the names of the alarm companies in charge of protecting the inhabitants and their property, would not be out of place in Lima or Buenos Aires. A bit more graceful than barbed wire and window bars though.
Life is good in this part of town. Although California is in bankruptcy, I suspect that life is good in many parts of this state. Not dissimilar to La Dolce Vita in parts of distressed Southern Europe. Our arrival coincides with a cold snap, which has the locals in state of panic. But it still feels Mediterranean compared to London at this time of year. Although I was keen on another muscle car, like the kickass Dodge Challenger RT we rented last summer (still intent on bringing one to London... imagine the resale value!), Flo's "family car" logic prevails, and as she will be doing as much of the driving, we settle for a small but sporty white Merc. We blend in with this vehicle so well I feel like we're permanent residents. Your car is a very integral part of your life out here. Our hosts have a Chevy Volt, and dream about a Tesla.
We blast down the HOV lanes of the freeways to get from A to B. HOV stands for High Occupancy Vehicle, ie 2 or more passengers. It is amazing how many lonesome drivers there are on these vast freeways, which seem to be brimming with motor traffic at any time of day. This is the land of the Drive In or the Drive Through, moreso perhaps than anywhere else I've been in the US. Drive In Cinema, Drive-Through Bank, Drive In Church. Naturally, we take the girls for the burger ritual of lunch at In-and-Out Burger "Only burgers, only fries since 1948", as the attendant in his scouts cap gleefully tells us, launching into a veritable Mission Statement when he learns that we are from London. The special sauce and the fries are very good. Jas and Iris insist that we get the car in gear before they start eating. 
The sign juggler for Jiffy Lube at the traffic light reminds me of the intersection mimes and jugglers in Buenos Aires. Flo makes the occasional thriftstore stop, finding as she always does something life-enhancing, and almost free. Rollin' is fun in a car with some real pick up and excellent indy college radio playing. We learn about the medicinal use of marijuana in these parts. Not so different from the mild stimulus of coca leaves (far) South of the border? I check out the exceptional custom charity surfboards at Lost & Found. However, the Vintage Skate Gallery and Red Star Skates of Abbot Kinney are gone.... But to lament the passage of time is a sign of old age, so I'll shut up. We do have an amazing Italian meal at The Tasting Kitchen.
This is a town I've visited many times. Visiting my sister Auste when she lived in a Venice Beach bungalow, touring the anodyne offices of Capital International on an analyst roadshow... It's a wonderful place for downtime with the Girls. As Flo says on Pirouette, "a paradise for kids, 7 to 77", and it tempts us to stay. The livin' is easy. I don't think I've been more fascinated or felt more at home than this visit.
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