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I could so see living here.
It's almost a shaming admission (which offends my Angeleno friends, and I apologize). I feel like one of those Englishmen who lost their heads for the desert - the heat is friendlier than the humidity at home, despite a 10-degree temperature differential. The smog is, surprisingly, no worse and this week, the streets are cleaner. It's easier than I expected to get use to a thin sheen of perspiration but I have to be smarter about water.
Spent the day walking along Venice Beach and I feel pan-fried and scorched in random places - the tops of my feet, my left wrist where it lay in the sun throughout a long and rambling breakfast on Sunset. I'm now part of someone's vacation photos and the unreality of it all tickles me: the valet parking at the greasy spoon; the Hollywood-boy tucking a screenplay into the tiny compartment at the back on his Ducati; then the weirdness of Venice and the Pacific cool of the ocean water on my feet.
It's almost a shaming admission (which offends my Angeleno friends, and I apologize). I feel like one of those Englishmen who lost their heads for the desert - the heat is friendlier than the humidity at home, despite a 10-degree temperature differential. The smog is, surprisingly, no worse and this week, the streets are cleaner. It's easier than I expected to get use to a thin sheen of perspiration but I have to be smarter about water.
Spent the day walking along Venice Beach and I feel pan-fried and scorched in random places - the tops of my feet, my left wrist where it lay in the sun throughout a long and rambling breakfast on Sunset. I'm now part of someone's vacation photos and the unreality of it all tickles me: the valet parking at the greasy spoon; the Hollywood-boy tucking a screenplay into the tiny compartment at the back on his Ducati; then the weirdness of Venice and the Pacific cool of the ocean water on my feet.
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