A good time to start writing a holiday blog is possibly in the
immigration queue at any major US city. You will get enough time to make a
decent start. LA is a drab but functional airport and not a patch on the
shopping mall we passed through at Heathrow T5. In preparation for shopping and
dining delights the taxi arrived at 6am on Sunday morning for a 9.40am flight. It was the
first of many occasions no doubt on this 2 week trip that I will be out-voted
by my female travel companions. Jason and Anthony are left in the UK. Jason is in
a glow after a successful Olympic games and is working towards the Paralympics.
Anthony
is also in a glow after his A level results last Thursday which means that he
will off to Birmingham shortly after we get back.
This is a 3 State trip - California, Nevada and Arizona. LA, Vegas and
Scottsdale (Phoenix). We have done similar (but not identical) trips in 2007 and 2008 but
Holly missed out on both occasions so this will a first for her.
I decide LAX was built for the English. Lots of queues. This is the one just to
get out of the terminal.
While we are waiting in the exit queue, a voice announces
"passenger Keen just arrived on British Airways from London please check
your bag". All eyes fall on Sian who has a bit of
prior on this. (We once got back to the car and she realised she hadn't picked
up her bag from the carousel). But it wasn't Sian this time. It was me. I had
picked up an identical case and had to hurry it back to baggage where I met a red
faced but very relieved guy. A rookie mistake. Oops.
Unfortunately queues are not behind us as we join another long
line at the car rental office. I thought the car was pre-paid for but
after we pay for the ‘extras’ I have paid the same again. We have been
persuaded to upgrade the size of the car but when we start to load up the
luggage I am relieved we did. We will be doing about 800 miles on this
trip so it would be best not to have cases on laps!
We eventually arrive at the hotel in Westwood, LA – not far from
Beverly Hills. It is a retro hotel (I’m not allowed to use words like
trendy or happening) and we are told there is a pool party going on which
explains why the lobby is full of girls wandering around in skimpy
bikinis. Look, I didn’t choose this place! JD, the car valet is
very friendly (especially after I give him a tip) and he starts to give us a
quick run down of what’s around in walking distance. He has a tendency to
keep squeezing my shoulder – very friendly indeed.
I am rubbish at adapting to a new time zone – we are up with the
birds the next morning. We stop at “Mary
& Rob’s” for breakfast and set off for the tourist traps in town. Chinese
theatre, Hollywood sign and Rodeo Drive, where I hasten to add there is no
going in shops. This involves a lot of
finding our way around town but given that Mrs K is the worst map reader in the
world we have invested in a Sat Nav on this trip. Unfortunately, Mrs K is also incompetent in
charge of a Sat Nav too and on our way to the Warner Bros Studio lot tour we
end up on the wrong side of town. We
bomb it along the freeway and make it to the studio with literally 1 minute to
spare for our appointment but only because Mrs K launches herself straight to the
front of the queue to get our tickets – she is very good at some things.
I have had a lot of whingeing from the girls that my blogs are not
very complimentary to them. I have been
given a list of things which cannot be mentioned and I am feeling a bit ganged
up on. But what about my readers? In our hours of roaming aimlessly around the
streets of LA looking for the wrong addresses, I have to put up with endless
conversation about “Fifty Shades of Grey”, Twilight actresses who are now
hated, David Beckham’s underpants and other stuff which I can’t mention – and
don’t worry I wouldn’t dream of mentioning.
The Warner Studios tour is really good and worth a try if you
visit LA. It is a 2˝ hour tour around a
working studio. My girls occupy the back
row of the elongated buggy that Paul drives round the lot. He reels off a long list of films and TV
shows that are currently in production at the studios. I hardly recognise any of them but Sian it
seems has watched them all, with little squeals of delight at the mention of
each one which makes Paul very happy too.
We visit the stage for ‘Ellen’ and Paul proudly shows us all round the
place. I have never seen or indeed ever
heard of the show or Ellen so it falls a bit flat for me. Of more interest are some of the props
including the Batman vehicles and the original General Lee. Apparently, the batmobile has a top speed of
20mph and there is only 1 stunt man who can ride the bat bike thing – so he has
to double for batman and batgirl.
We can restrain ourselves no
longer and we make our way to Cheesecake Factory in the evening. The new Oreo
cheesecake is described as “exquisite” but the choice is unbelievable – the
menu runs to something like 20 pages.
But we are well drilled. No
starters and cheesecakes are ‘to go’.
Tuesday will feature opposite ends
of LA culture – Disneyland and the Getty museum. More on those next time.
Part 2
We can't
believe it’s our last day in LA. As I
write it is midday Wednesday and we are sitting in a cafe on Venice beach. I
know! We are in prime ‘people-watching’
position and a lot of them look like they are on drugs. Just along the street
are several shops where you can get a medical assessment of whether you need marijuana
or not. I'm guessing there are a lot of very deserving cases that go through
those surgeries. I am accosted by a guy
selling CD's. I am wearing my Team Great
Britain hat and he asks me where I'm from. But he is cool. We have a brief chat
about his native Senegal football team that I recently saw at the Olympic
quarter final match at Wembley (they lost 4-2 to Mexico). We part with one of
those cool handshakes.
We spot the famous Muscle Gym on the beach which looks a bit neglected I have
to say. It’s probably about as close to a gym I will get on this trip. We also
spend a few minutes watching the skateboarders in the purpose built skate park
– there is a lot of falling over. The girls
give the stalls a lot of attention and come away with a few bargains - T shirts
and sunglasses. Anyone else think this
guy on the right of the photo looks like Steve Foulser?
Thanks for all your good wishes. I’m
pleased to report that there is no sign of any illness so far – perhaps I
shouldn’t have said that. And thanks to
Anthony for pointing out my mistake. It
was of course Cat Woman not Batgirl but you knew who I meant. Thanks for your sympathies with my ‘girl
trouble’. It seems now that not only do
I have to be careful with what I say but I also need to cut out the ‘looks’
too.
Yesterday was
a very tiring day but mostly due to bad planning on my part. I mentioned before that we were sampling both
ends of LA's range of culture - Disney and Getty. The girls wanted to spend the
day at Disneyland and Mrs K and I opted to visit the Getty Center museum. Disneyland is at Anaheim which is about 40
miles out of town and the Getty is just a few miles up the road from the
hotel. I didn't think it was such a big
deal to drop the girls off in the morning and then go back for them in the
evening. Six lanes of gridlock and 6
hours of my life that I won’t get back! Our Sat Nav continuously advises us to
get off the freeway but we soon learn that it doesn't really help - all roads
between freeways are equally busy.
But we get to
the Getty museum and it is worth the trip, placed on a hilltop overlooking the
city with an air of superiority. It has the feel of a futuristic sci-fi set -
but it was built in the 80's. Getty must have been an extraordinary man. There
is a train to take you from the underground car park up to the museum and from
there you can see the whole city in the distance. Mrs K is in heaven as we get a tour of the
gardens and hear about the history of the place. We have posh nosh in the
'upscale' restaurant and then set off to see the masterpieces by Van Gogh,
Degas, Monet, Renoir, Cezanne and a few others.
But I’m not sure about this Klimt guy though.
On the way
back to Anaheim, Mrs K takes a turn with the driving as I have sampled a few
glasses of wine at lunch. I must say she does very well even though this is
only the second time she has ever driven in the US. I am a bit unnerved by the
way she keeps wandering over the white lines - "I keep forgetting the
right hand side of the car is all the way over there", she says. Later
that evening on the way back to the hotel (our 2nd 3 hour round
trip), Mrs K is driving and we are all asleep. She only has the Sat Nav for
conversation. As we get near to home I wake up and have trouble recognising the
streets we are using. "Which way did the Sat Nav bring us?" Naturally
Mrs K has no idea; she has just been following instructions. Who knows where we
have been but we are home safe. Well done Mrs K. It is only 10pm but I am fit
for nothing. It was a very long day but the girls had a magical day with Mickey
and his friends.
I am now
writing lying on Zuma beach which is just along the coast, past Charlie Sheen's
beach house in Malibu (Two and a half men). It is supposed to be California's
favourite beach and I can see why. Unspoilt and we just saw 3 dolphins swimming
just beyond the surf. I am starting to chill now.
Part 3
We are all sporting a bit of
colour from just an hour on the beach on Wednesday. By Thursday afternoon I am
writing my next piece some 300 miles east from a Vegas shopping centre. We left LA early in the morning and stopped
off half way in a town called Yermo at a place called Penny's, an authentic
roadside diner. George greeted us warmly and didn't take offence when the girls
rushed past him on the way to the less than sparkling restrooms. This is one of those diners which is not much
bigger than a shipping container. It is
silver to reflect the heat of the sun.
George is about 55 or 60 wears a
faded baseball cap and has a couple of teeth missing but he is warm and
friendly. I bet he hasn't been outside of the US and probably hasn't been much
outside California or Nevada. He just kept saying, "I just love the way
you talk".
I wanted to sit at the counter with the other sun baked truckers but I didn't
have my 37 ton 12 wheeler outside so settled into the booth with the girls
where George really looked after us.
Thursday is Sian's day. Her GCSE results are excellent. She is a bit hard on
herself in a couple of subjects where she missed the grades she was hoping for
but elsewhere she did better than expected. 8 A's is not too shabby. In fact
her grades are almost identical to mine but they were so much harder in my day
of course!
The drive from LA to Vegas is much more interesting than I thought it would be
- over desert but also across mountains with some spectacular views which you
won’t really get from this picture.
We have a smooth run, and pull up
outside Caesar's Palace on the strip around 1pm. We opt for the complimentary valet parking. There is something decadent about just handing
your car and luggage over to a guy in a hotel uniform with the engine running. Mrs
K remarks “Self Parking - why would you?”
Sean (from Hawaii) checks us in. He notes we have only booked a deluxe room
and offers an upgrade. I go for it and
his fingers go into overdrive on the keyboard as he races to secure the rooms
and no doubt his incentive fee. Apparently
the hotel is over 95% full. Holly and
Sian are more than pleased with their room - the jacuzzi, the phone in the loo
and TV in the bathroom clinch it.
We are only here for 3 days so the girls don't want to waste any time at all.
It is straight out to the premium outlets for a shopping taster. I get all my
shopping out of the way in a couple of hours so the girls can come back another
day for a more serious look without me tagging along. Prices are about a third
of what you will pay in the UK so I get value for money. Mrs K is urging me on.
The more I spend, the more she can spend.
In the evening, we grab a bite to eat on the strip and then hit the casino.
This first entails simply trying to understand how the machines work. But of
course the principle is quite straightforward - you put your bills in and watch
the money drain away. I am told off for
spoiling everyone’s fun. To me, just
blindly hitting the button on the slot machines without any hint of influence
on the outcome of the game is just not much fun at all. Mrs K however loves it and sure enough she
hits the jackpot again (as she did last time we were here). She wins $100 on a
1c machine and starts screaming hysterically. People on the nearby roulette table (where
bets of $1000 are being made on every spin) are looking over and Holly said she
heard someone behind us say "Shut up". There is no bucket to collect the coins in. Vegas has gone digital, so Mrs K is waving
around a ticket with her winnings on it. I have persuaded her to take a break
and we celebrate with an ice cream and a coffee. Sian is hanging around with us
at the machines but eventually she is spotted as underage and has to retreat to
the room. We feel a bit guilty that her special day has to end like that but it
is not long after that our money is gone (Mrs K has a strict budget) and we
follow her.
Part
4
It is Sunday . We have arrived in Arizona. Scottsdale near Phoenix to
be precise. It is warm as
expected – about 39C in the shade but it is a dry heat and a bit like reaching
into a hot oven, not that I do much of that.
I am told Scottsdale is for retirees and people that play golf. Well, I am certainly the latter and probably
aspiring to be the former. We made it in
7 hours from Vegas, door to door, including various stops including the Hoover
Dam and three rest stops. Not too bad,
considering the low speed limits and threat of police radar. On the way we stopped in a town called
Kingman, just for gas and the restrooms.
Mrs K asked the woman at the gas station what was the best place to stop
between Kingman and Phoenix (a drive of about 190 miles). She said “Phoenix”. Not much out there then.
As we got close to Phoenix, we stopped at the Village Inn
-another tick on the list of the girls’ dining requests for the trip – greeted
with whoops of delight from the back of the car. It is Sunday lunch and it must be OAP
day. But we are here for the pie – Jason
would love to be here. The pies are
famous and they take them very seriously with special parking spots outside for
pie pick ups.
It was a pleasant drive even if I did have to listen to Beyonce, Wicked, Bruno Mars and other non
descript vocal artists for most of the way.
But now we are tranquillity after the bedlam of Vegas.
Vegas baby Vegas. I
just wanted to say that. Last time, I
told you about Mrs K’s first evening of gambling. On
Friday she was at it again, turning $20 into $265 within the first 20 minutes
of sitting at the 1c slots. Even I am
starting to believe. Not in my luck
though, hers, because every time I feed in a $5 note, the cash disappears in no
time. Mrs K however seems to have a
knack for generating “bonus spins” which generate prizes of $50-60 for $1
bets. Even after a losing streak she
still walks away with a $150 profit. She
is pretty pleased with herself. Holly
and I are a bit grumpy that she seems to get all the luck but at least she is
offsetting my losses!
We like to come to the US because we usually get value for
money. At the Caesars pool, I decide to
have a margarita which comes in a pint glass and is brought over by Sarah in a
white skimpy bikini (just completing the image for you). We later find out it cost $22. Almost on a par with the
$14 cup of tea that I had in LA.
But this is Vegas and they have you captive. There is no free wifi in the hotel – you have
to pay $25 a day per device but we have a solution for that – it’s called
Starbucks. There is one in the hotel
(where the coffee prices are double the normal) but it doesn’t have wifi so we
have go out and find one.
At the pool there is very little shade which is presumably a
way to persuade you to spend your time in the casino and not sunbathing. There are dancing girls at the pool and thumping
music coming from an area which is called the Venus Pool club. People are
lining up to get in like they would outside a nightclub. The fact that I can't
think why people would want to means that it is not for me.
Saturday was more shopping for the girls and cinema and rest time for me. In the evening we had a very nice meal and then walked the strip, sampling a few of the hotels and the sights. It is very busy and still very warm despite almost being midnight and we are soon flagging. If you have been here you will know that these hotels are vast properties. Mrs K has only just discovered that Caesars has a shopping mall attached to it which would rival Westfield . Sadly we leave first thing the next morning. It might just be me but Vegas appears to be hen party city – groups of girls appear to outnumber guys by 10 to 1. They are all eagerly queuing up outside the hottest night club spots. I am feeling very old.
Monday morning in Scottsdale, I am lying under a huge
umbrella. It has got my name on it. It is 39C again and I am
wondering whether playing golf in these temperatures is a good idea. I
spoke to someone last night who said we were lucky that we missed last week
when it was 43C and very high humidity. It’s the humidity that is hard to
cope with which is different to the normal dry desert heat.
This morning we doubted whether we had the right time.
We were confused by the fact that we had moved to a different time zone
(called Mountain time for some reason). But now
that we are back on complimentary wifi, a quick check on Google cleared up the
confusion. Yes, we are in a new time zone but Arizona has not moved to
Daylight saving so we are still 8 hours behind the UK. How nice that we
have been here 24 hours without being sure what the time of day is!
Our dining experiences have passed almost without comment on
this trip - which is probably quite unusual. Although the girls did order
a shake to go after breakfast the other day (Holly said it was the best
milkshake she has ever had), we have tried to be restrained. But it isn't
always that easy. My new Levi jeans are already feeling a bit tight.
The more interesting part of the American dining experience
however is the service. "Hello folks, my name is
Jeremy and I will be your server today". Those proved to be chilling words
uttered by our waiter at a place called 'The Olive Garden' which is a poor
impression of an Italian restaurant. Jeremy takes his job very seriously
and was all over us at every opportunity. He can’t walk past our table without
stopping to check that we are happy. Such attention is novel the first
couple of times but it does get a bit wearing.
We decide that Jeremy is a bit weird.
When we arrived at the restaurant, Holly sat in the waiting area next to
what she thought was a plastic man, but then he moved. His hairpiece is shiny and looks like it has
been painted on. Plastic man sits alone
at the table next to us and orders from the kids menu. Also weird. My favourite sever was a girl on the Vegas
strip. She was efficient but matter of fact. I would give you her name
but unusually she didn't give it to us. We asked her about the timing of
the Bellagio hotel fountain show and she just said,
"oh, all the time". A breath of fresh air.
You probably couldn't get more of a contrast than that
between Vegas and Scottsdale. No pictures of naked princes here.
There might be a few fake boobs round the pool here but they are not out
for show like they were on the strip. We are relieved to get to the
relaxation part of our trip - no doubt another sign of advancing years. Time
for another sip of margarita and dip in the pool - this might be the last
excerpt!
Part 5
Now
let’s see. Last time I was by the pool,
sipping a margarita. Now I am by the
pool, sipping a pina colada. Bit of a
girl’s drink I know, but I like it and I am just keeping in the spirit of the labour day weekend festivities – a cocktail for each colour
of the American flag. But I don’t want
to give you the impression that we have just been sitting round doing nothing –
we have only been doing that for about 80% of the time.
On
Wednesday we went see a baseball match between Arizona Diamondbacks and
Cincinnati Reds. This was our first National League baseball match – we saw
Tampa Bay Devil Rays play a few years ago but that was in the lower American
League. The game itself wasn’t all that
exciting. The D-Backs lost 5-2. We didn’t see any home runs. There was a guy from Somerset sitting next to
me. He is working over here but was
explaining the rules to his daughter who was over for a visit so I was earwigging and passing on the knowledge down the line. But I didn’t need to bother because Mrs K was
being chatted up a geezer in the row behind us who used to live in Sunningdale. He was
about 75 I reckon and asked Mrs K how old she was. She is fighting them off I tell you. The crowd never seems to get all that excited
– it seems to be more like a cricket test match with lots of fast food thrown
in. It is 7pm in the evening and 110F so
we are very happy that they have decided to close the roof and air-condition
the whole stadium down to about 78F. It
is an amazing structure. I ask what
happens if a ball hits the roof but the guy next to me said to me he had never
seen it – and it is a long way up so I can understand why. To get a home run they have to clear a 10ft
high line 330ft out from the square – that is further than the maximum distance
allowed in cricket from the crease to the boundary. One guy did get it out there but not high
enough and he only got to 3rd base.
That was the highlight of the game which went on for 2˝ hours. But it was amazing to see how quickly the
pitchers can throw the ball (up to 100mph) and how accurate the fielders are in
getting the ball to 1st base.
This
morning was more sport. As the
temperature dropped below 100F I decided to venture out onto the golf course
here at the resort and Sian opted to come out with me and drive the cart. Her driving wasn’t too bad but not as good as
mine as I shot my lowest ever score (80).
To be honest it was lost on my golfing companions who didn’t know my
usual low standard and Sian was more interested in looking out for lizards and
bunny rabbits. Still, I was
chuffed. Mrs K is now urging me to go
look for a new set of golf clubs to celebrate but that is to ease her guilt
after a sinful morning of shopping – new handbag and purse. She says it is her annual bonus but I don’t
remember the review meeting for that.
Mrs K and Holly come back barely on speaking terms. The accusation is that Mrs K spotted a pair
of sunglasses on a very special (one only) offer - $31 instead of $250. She bought them but Holly had already said
previously that she wanted them, but for the price. Mrs K is not backing down. Our game of golf was so much more civilised
this morning. Sian and I had the company
of Al and Doug from Chicago who were just a pleasure to be with.
There
was more sport the other evening when we went to the movies and went for
something to eat before at Hooters. I
must say it was the cheapest and worst food we have had in the US on this trip
– but who cares. Mrs K was not
impressed. Again we split up to watch
different films. Mrs K and the girls had
the screen to themselves to watch Sparkle (well, who else would want to watch
Whitney) and I had to share with a couple to watch the Bourne Legacy.
Mrs
K has been driving around town quite happily.
It is reported to me that she has been doing very well except once when
she found herself on the wrong side of the street. I am happy that I was having a golf lesson at
the time.
The
pool is relatively heaving this afternoon (Friday) as we come into the Labor day weekend and private jets
are flying into and out of the nearby Scottsdale airport. Last night we were turned away from a
restaurant because of the queue. Not
much sign of recession here.
Unbelievably
we are nearing the end of our stay. We
have another day or so of chilling and trying not to get burnt and then fly
back to civilised temperatures in the UK on Sunday. We haven’t seen any football but are glad
that Chelsea are in their rightful spot at the top of
the Premiership. Thanks for reading. Going back to those cocktails now.
See
you all soon