We left San Diego on a dreary Sunday morning. The sun had hidden its face and made way for
its ruminations. We headed for the
mountains, pho, glassy blue skies and friends in Los Angeles, California. We didn’t drive for very long, but long
enough to take in the casual mountainsides, green farmland and I was able to
dig more deeply into a book I had been reading on the initial flight from San
Antonio, Texas to San Diego, CA about the Pacific Crest Trail. Nothing is more exciting than reading a book
based around the area to which I am traveling.
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| © Carolina Hinojosa, 2015 |
When my fiancé informed me that we would be venturing out to
Los Angeles my immediate reply was to visit the Griffith Observatory. I had only heard of it and was
enamored by the thought of visiting. After
our hunger was eradicated by pancakes and eggs benny at Coco’s, we drove on to
the Griffith. Winding and twisting roads
led up the high mountain, the sun tempted us to remove our sweaters and jackets
while in the car; however, upon exit the wind bit a playful chill upon any skin
that was exposed. Armed with our layers
and camera we headed up the mountain toward the observatory. Once we arrived,
there was no need to ever enter the structure (we later did). The views were magical and breathtaking. The sky was made of blue glass and the sun
danced with wide strides and ribbons of glory.
Was this a different sun? Was
that the same sky?
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| © Carolina Hinojosa, 2015 |
We later drove down the Hollywood Hills (which are such a
sham) and onto the Hollywood walk of fame. It was nothing like I’d ever expected that Hollywood would be. It was neither glitz nor
glamour. It was any other downtown, but
while we were there an event on the red carpet was taking place. I would have never noticed had my fiancé not
pointed out to me that we were two feet away from the red carpet. “That?!”, I replied. He laughed and said, “Yes, that.” One street away were apartment buildings
surrounded by barbed wire. A few blocks
over were buildings that were demolished or abandoned. Not movie backdrops, simply life dying around
what we see on TV as a grand illusion of what the red carpet and Hollywood
is. I’m not meaning this blogpost to
sound depressing; it’s an eye-opener to see what television dictates to us
about the rich and famous.
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| © Carolina Hinojosa, 2015 |
Later we had dinner with a friend at a pho spot that didn’t
need a name. The address was all we needed as the actual restaurant didn’t have a name on it. The locals knew the name and it could be
found on a map. It was overflowing with
people and we all waited for our turn at a table. The prices were great for LA dining and
afterward we walked over to a coffee shop on the corner. Once you found a parking space in LA, it was
in your best interest not to move from the spot or else it would take hours to
find another. It was a cold night, but
not a long walk. The coffee was good and
the conversation even better as we shut the place down. We seem to do this often when we meet up with
friends. We chat until the place can’t
take much more of us. Sober.
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| © Carolina Hinojosa, 2015 |
We headed back to the house for more conversation, wine and
book tales. We talked until we all had
no more talk in us. My eyes forced me
into sleep dreaming of books and tales and roused in the midst of morning to
realize that I had just woken up in Los Angeles. The rooster alerted the neighborhood that
sleeping in was futile. It was time to
get on the road to head toward Palm Springs and Indio. We were headed to the desert.
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| © Carolina Hinojosa, 2015 |
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