La La Land

 

To get to Tianjin from the States during the pandemic, to get to anywhere in China, you have to take a direct flight from L.A. Before you fly, you have to pass a Covid test two days in advance, from a testing facility approved by the Chinese government (American red tape is good practice for Asian red tape). This may seem like a downside, but what this ends up meaning for me is a paid, two-night vacation in La La Land. I had never been to L.A. before; it lives up to its name. It's a cool town, with a lot to do. However, it can be difficult to navigate for a first-timer with no friends. 

My original plan was to stay at the marina, where I had secured a BnB for fairly cheap, but once the plane landed at my layover in Denver, I was told the BnB was flooded (I knew it was too good to be true). Before I could remedy this problem, I had to board the plane to L.A., and after arrival a few hours later, there I sat with my fledgling phone service at baggage claim, trying to coax the BnB host to find me another place-which they did, luckily, but not at the marina. This meant I lost my dream place, and my navigation plan- which was a bummer. My next choice should have been to pay 48$ to Lyft from the airport to the new BnB, but I was stubborn and cheap. I decided to attempt public transit in a city I knew nothing about. 

I proceeded to study the layout of the bus system, light rail, and locate the correct shuttle bus that would get me there. To the right, you can see my desperate bathroom pitstop with all of my luggage safely tucked.

What followed was one of the stupidest decisions I have made in quite sometime. I attempted to take the 'Green Line' to the bus station. I waited for the Green Line shuttle bus (apparently there are many with that name? I've still got no fucking clue) and after 40 minutes, boarded one. It took me a little askew on my GPS, and I asked if this was indeed the correct shuttle, to which the operator shook his head, but offered no advice. We came within a 15-minute walk of the bus station, and I got off the shuttle, because it was heading away. I thought - what's 15-minutes? 15-minutes with two check-in's, a maxed out carry-on, and my full to the brim backpack... Also, 15 minutes according to a straight shot walk from Google Maps, which had no clue what it was actually talking about. I began the journey. 20 minutes later, I came to close to the bus station. I could see it across the street - but it was across the street of an 8-lane highway. The Lyft was sounding more and more like a great idea - but still, the bus station was so close, and I had come so far...

In the distance was a perpendicular overpass, with stairs that led up to it. I could also see stairs back down, on the other side of the 8-lane highway. This was my path if I wanted it bad enough. I tested my arms, they weren't quite wobbly yet. "Let's do it!" Some inner, remaining teenage anger said from deep down inside me. I made my way to the stairs and had to dip into the street because there was wet concrete for about twenty feet. Then, I hoisted the suitcases up. One of them, the green fat suitcase with a thin, unwieldy handle I grew to hate that day. Three flights up, a rest, and an embarrassed glance towards all the traffic seeing me act like a dumbass, and then back down the other side. 

After another quick breather, I carried the suitcases the remaining 300 or so feet to the bus station... which was closed. I had successfully killed the remainder of my teenage anger - there was no fuel left. Luckily, a guard misdirected me, and I fumbled my way to some bus stops where a stranger finally helped me get on the right one about an hour later. 

The Next Day

The first day I got fairly lost, and ended up in an area that closed down at 10 PM somehow. 

That being said, I did make it to Santa Monica Pier, which is certainly a landmark. I had a poke bowl and a soda. I was harassed by a hustling hip-hop artist trying to sell digital-only CD's (he wouldn't let me preview any songs before buying), and I played some busted pinball at the arcade. 

Below is the Pier from Santa Monica beach in the day, and the Ferris wheel at night.

Afterwards, I called it a night. The next day I was a pro, and took the light rail to Venice beach. Four stops, and maybe 2$? 

This place is pretty amazing,  I thought. Lots of sights and sounds, delicious street food and rooftop bars. I went by the skate park and hung out, and then caught the sunset. 

Here's some more sunset pics, I strongly suggest clicking on them, because the full images are enveloping - they came out great, so I felt obligated to share (Taken on the Pixel 4a): 

I had an awkward experience at a high-end bar on a rooftop where I didn't really belong, but it wasn't a busy night so the staff was kind. I drank a well-made old-fashioned. The difference between a good old-fashioned and a bad one is night and day. 

To cap Venice beach off before leaving the States, I had walked by a Vietnamese couple with two massage tables right on the strip. Nobody was coming to them for business. At first, I walked by, but then my back reminded me of lifting two suitcases up and back down three flights of stairs to an overpass, and that whole debacle had left some knots. So, with my last bit of cash, I treated myself to an awkward massage from an older woman who spoke little to no English. Thirty minutes later, I felt like a new person. A burger and some fries later, I was serenaded by a young beach bum band. Their final song was about me and my burger, and asking for beer, which I totally tried to help them procure, but tragically the stores had closed five minutes earlier.  

Goodbye L.A.