So I went with Allen and Rachelle to Santa Monica, where they were visiting friends and I had a date with the Pacific. I had never seen it before and it has always been a dream of mine to stand in front of the worlds largest body of water and then to plunge myself into it. Allan and Rachelle dropped me off by the 3rd street promenade: a pedestrianised street which runs parallel to the coast about half a mile inland. I would inspect it later but right now I had a mission to complete. The Beach at Santa Monica is sheltered by a cliff face which stands around 30 feet tall. It was on the edge of this that I 1st the ocean. The beach was about 150 yards wide and ran along the cost line as far as the eye could see. Most of the beach was empty apart from a thin line of people who had set themselves up right on the sea's edge. I made my way down, flipped off my flip-flops and, stepping onto the sand immediately regretted walking barefooted. The sand was roasting hot, like fire. I made it 25 yards before I had to put my flip-flops back on again. I limped my way to the seas edge, set myself up and headed straight into the ocean. the sea was cool, which on a hot day brought some welcome relieve. the sea floor rose sharply which brought large waves crashing down on the people paddling in it. I took in a breath of the marvellous air looked to my right to sea small planes flying low carrying banners behind them in the sky. I looked to my left to see the Pier stretch out into the Ocean like so many I have seen back home. I then look to the sea and saw, slightly to me left, the biggest tampon, about a foot long, floating in the waves. I was not going to let this harm the idillic image of the Pacific I had built up in my mind, I was there and I was going to enjoy it. swimming in the waves I was enveloped by a particularly large one and when I rose to the serfice I did so without my sunglasses: My gift to the Pacific... my nicer than the one left by some unfortunate lady.
The Pier at Santa Monica was very simmilar to those you find in England, lots of tacky rides and tacky stores. The one eye opening difference were the suped up/ kitted out bikes... thats bycicles. They had tall harly davidson handlebars with hundreds of mirrors attached to them (see photo).
Our intended trip to the Cinema in the Cemitary was cancelled due to reasons byond our control (the hangover from hell). SO we spent teh night chilling and thinking about the next step, Mexico.
I'm a tad behind at this stage as I don't have as much time to write as I did in LA. So these should hopefully come every 2 days or so.
Mexican details to follow,