Fri 22/6 – 9241 steps
As we drove through Malibu, I was struck by the resemblance of the electric wiring system to that in a video recently posted about electricity hijacking in SA.
Before we left Malibu, we went to Getty Villa. I cannot begin to imagine how much money Paul Getty must have had to just build this facility to house his collection. It was very interesting, especially the wine cups and jars. The collection is astounding, but I skim through museums because I can only do about 2 hours of statues, ceramics and jewelry. David, however, gives each piece its due attention and seems to be drawn in to museums and is reluctant to leave.
Later, we checked into the Hollywood RV park, in LA.
The owner, Steve, was very helpful and told us about his connections to the studios and how many of his tenants were in the movie industry. He even offered to get us an audition for an extra to dance in a movie. Not sure what kind of movie…
It seems to me all they focus on in LA is their movie connections and your chance of spotting a celebrity. Not sure I would know if I did spot one. Sure in the old days I would have recognized Robert Redford or even Brad Pitt, but now, there are so many and they are all quite ordinary. If I fell over a Kardashian, I would not even know it.
We locked up our RV and took an Uber to Pasadena to stay at a hotel near the Rose-bowl in preparation for the festival.
We walked around old Pasadena, over bits of original route 66, found a comic store and an English pub while we were looking for a specific pub with live music. It was nice and we had a drink there. David could have stayed there, but no, I wanted to find the spot I had read about.
For the benefit of my family, it was a bit like looking for a pie in Australia. Eventually we found the pub in a dodgy looking alley, but they did not serve food. We talked the bouncer into an early sale of 2 for the price of 1, got our stamps and went around the corner for an excellent supper at a place called Russells.
Tempting as it was to go straight home, we went back to the dingy pub, which consisted of a small stage in a tiny venue with a bar counter. There was a guy standing at the counter, with his back to the stage with space on either side of him. David asked him very politely if he could shift up a little so we could sit comfortably together. His response was that he had been there since 1974 and would not be pushed about. Clearly he meant it, as judging from the Magnum PI Hawaiian shirt he was still wearing, he had never left. The first act was pure noise, the second was better but disappointing, and luckily, the third band was quite good.
Chuckle of the day: David rubbing shoulders all night with a chop in floral shirt.
What I learnt: I am always amazed that bars/ bands /clubs play good old rock classics in between acts, then the bands start to play noise, no melody, no significant lyrics and very unimaginative rhythm. There is no comparison. I wonder who will be listening to the Black Jacobins in 50 years time.
Kim's journey 