October 29, 2012
Lake Park RV Resort and Lodge
Lake Elsinore, CA
(Santa Monica Pier, Venice Beach, Beverly Hills)
We had planned on traveling north to Long Beach and then
slowly driving south along the coast highway but on the spur of the moment we
made the decision to do the cheesy touristy thing beginning with Santa Monica
Beach. The first leg of the journey, on
I15, wasn’t too bad but the closer we got to LA the more traffic there was and
the more aggressive the drivers were. I
have to give Monte a lot of credit for having patience with me as I constantly
told him to watch out for that car or pled with him to slow down when he was
just trying to keep up with the flow of traffic.
By the time we arrived at Santa Monica Beach the need to
find a rest room was reaching the emergency stage. Luckily we found a metered ($2/hour that
accepted coins for credit card) parking spot just one block from the
beach. With my built-in bathroom radar I
found the public restrooms, which were surprisingly clean. That having been accomplished, I was able to
enjoy the beauty of the beach.
We took
the long walk on very soft sand down to the shore and watched the surfers.
It was quite chilly, windy and very foggy
making it almost impossible to make out the amusement park on the pier less
than a half mile away.
Monte had set the alarm on his phone to alert us when we
were approaching the hour mark so when it went off we made our way back to the
car and drove to the pier. Again we were
lucky to find a parking spot within a short walking distance of the pier.
The Santa Monica Pier, a 100-year-old landmark having
celebrated its anniversary in 2009, has had several piers over the years. The current pier is actually two adjoining
piers. It has an amusement park complete
with a carousel, roller coaster and Ferris wheel.
Walking along the boardwalk we passed several vendors
selling their original art, a psychic,
a steel drum performer
and eateries
offering the standard seashore menu.
When we reached the end of the pier we watched Santa Monica Police
Harbor Patrol divers in the water.
We
weren’t exactly sure what they were doing.
One theory Monte had was that they were inspecting the pier.
Before leaving the pier we stopped at the famous Hot Dog
on a Stick booth.
The Santa Monica store
is the location of the original shop in the franchise first opened in
1946. They essentially offer corn dogs
and fresh lemonade. Monte misread the
menu board and ordered an American, thinking he was going to get a traditional
hot dog. But when we bit into the “hot
dog” we discovered there was no frankfurter.
The “American” referred to the type of cheese used. We were glad that we had only ordered one to
share because at $4.00 we thought it tasted just okay.
When we arrived back at the car we discovered a motorcycle
had parked in front of us taking part of our space.
Directly behind us there was a car parked
leaving only perhaps two feet between us that was going to make pulling out of
the spot difficult. We still had a half
hour left on the meter so we decided to take the sandwiches we brought along
with us down to the beach hoping that either the motorcycle or the car behind
us would be gone when we returned. We
found a bench at the infamous Muscle Beach and watched some guys working out on
the different equipment while we ate.
Muscle Beach dates back to the 1930’s when the WPA (Works Progress
Administration) installed exercise equipment on the beach and where gymnastic
and acrobatic exhibitions were held.
The motorcycle was still there when returned to the car
but Monte expertly maneuvered the car out of the spot and we made the short
drive to our next location, Venice Beach.
Wikipedia defines Venice Beach as “a beachfront
neighborhood on the Westside of Los Angeles, California, United States. It is known for its canals, beaches and circus-like Ocean Front Walk, a two-and-a-half-mile
pedestrian-only promenade that features performers, fortune-tellers,
artists, and vendors.”
Rose defines Venice Beach as a dirty beachfront
neighborhood that features a collection of bizarre sad-looking characters.
I found Venice Beach humorous at first but when I looked
beyond the surface I experienced a mixture of disgust and pity for the
lost-soul inhabitants whose behavior and garb made me feel like I entered the
Twilight Zone.
The entire area reeked
of urine, dog feces, marijuana and some other unidentifiable odors. There were vendors selling their artwork
with varying degrees of expertise. Some pieces
looked as if they were made by a 5 year-old while some were actually quite
good.
I couldn’t help
wondering what had brought these people to this place and why they would choose
to live the lifestyle they are living.
One sign I read stated that the beach had been created as a heaven on
earth so humans could experience the freedom of sleeping on the beach.
SLEEPING ON THE BEACH with unwashed, mentally
ill people doesn’t sound like heaven on earth to me. I overheard one vendor ask the vendor at the
site next to him how he had lost his teeth.
His reply of too much meth didn’t surprise me.
One “vendor” was being questioned by the police as we
went by. We didn’t know why until we got
a closer look at the sign he had placed on the ground. It read, “Need funds for Penis reduction,
Happy Halloweenie. Photos $1.00.” I’m not sure what he was offering.
We had only one hour on the meter so we walked along the
promenade for 25 minutes and then walked back to the car. Venice Beach had left me with an unwashed
feeling so I was quite happy to leave and continue on to the next stop on our “cheesy
tour”. I entered the info into the GPS
and a short while later we were traveling down Rodeo Drive.
There is only a few miles distance between Venice
Beach and Beverly Hills but it might as well be a million miles as far as the
culture and environment. Rodeo Drive is
a three block long stretch of boutiques and shops known for designer labels
including Chanel, Dior and Valentino to name a few.
We passed such famous streets as Melrose, Sunset Blvd.
and Wilshire Blvd on the way to our next destination. Driving up Mulholland Drive with its twisting
hairpins turns was exhilarating.
Poor
Monte couldn’t really enjoy the experience because he really had to give his
full concentration to driving. On the
drive down we passed houses with beautifully manicured lawns and some houses
with tall shrubbery, some having gaps in which we were able to see glimpses of
the large estates they were hiding. As
we were passing some of the houses, I couldn’t help wondering who lived
there. As before when we were at Venice
Beach, I felt like I had entered the Twilight Zone BUT in the very other end of
the spectrum.
It was getting late and we were tired so we headed
home. Of course, we got stuck in rush
hour traffic. I didn’t want a repeat of
the morning’s anxiety so I tried to lean back and close my eyes so I wouldn’t
stress Monte out by every few seconds saying, “Look out for that car” or “Oh my
God.” BUT I couldn’t bring myself to
close my eyes because my imagination about what was going on around me was
scarier than the actual events. Finally,
we made it back home safe and sound, happy to add another wonderful adventure
to our ever growing memory treasure chest.
