When I woke up on Sunday morning, I could see bright blue sky and pink clouds out of my window. I hopped out of bed and saw that the moon was still out too – big and white and bright. I got back in to bed, Skyped with my family, ate Toblerone and tried not to cry at how fabulous it all was.
Because the sun was shining, Stella and I went for another wander around the canals. So gorgeous.
We walked along Abbot Kinney, hoping to find a nice cafe for breakfast, but there didn’t seem to be any open, so we kept going and ended up back at the Sidewalk Cafe on the Boardwalk. Which turned out to be an excellent decision. We had huevos rancheros and listened to a man playing amazing guitar. It was one of those completely perfect moments. Really.
I hadn’t been able to decide whether to go to Griffith Observatory or not, but I decided I’d regret it if we didn’t and so off we drove. Well, Stella drove and I wittered on and took photos out of the window.
Griffith Observatory turned out to be an excellent plan – it was so beautiful.
We wandered around taking dozens of photos and then went to see the Centred in the Universe show in the Planetarium, which was fantastic. (You know that line in Spinal Tap? “Puts things into perspective…” “Too much fucking perspective.” That.) Plus there was an excellent view of the Hollywood sign and this time the sun was shining.
On the way back to Venice, we stopped off at Venice High School. RYDELL HIGH!!!! I still haven’t quite got my head around the fact that we went there and I’m scared to watch Grease again in case I cry all the way through. Rydell High!!!! (I subsequently found out that the Summer Lovin’ bleachers are actually round the back of the school. If we’d known that and seen them I think my head would’ve exploded.)
Still reeling, we staggered down to the beach to watch the sunset and think about going home. Or, as my brain insisted on putting it: The Sun Goes Down On Our Californian Adventure.
We’d planned to go to Washington Boulevard for dinner, but ended up at the Sidewalk Cafe – our local – again. I had a Paul Auster New York Steak and a couple of margaritas. It was bliss.
And then, from 4.30 the following morning, there was about 36 hours of this…
Bye, LA. You were freakin’ awesome.
And so were you, Stella. Thanks so much for coming with me. xxx