First impression
Part of my summer vacation around Northern America was also a short stay in Los Angeles (LA). It was my first time visiting "America the beautiful".
A sequence of bad events started on the
plane from Vancouver to LA. For the first time in my life I thought this is it,
plane will crash, my life will be over and it's nothing I can do about it, so I
will just finish my last supper (a cracker) and panic silently while my story
is coming to an end. What a pathetic way to end your life, with a fucking
cracker. The situation on the plane was chaotic and I was just sitting there
looking at the emergency lights in the distance, chewing a cracker and trying
to guess what’s going on. There was a lot of running up and down the plane but
in all of this madness nobody had time to briefly say everything is going to be
fine, there is just a passenger with minor seizure due to the hypoglycemia on
this flight, no worries.
Coming to LA in the middle of the night won’t give you
a reason to follow your dreams and find an angel that will show you the way to
success. We were staying at Hermosa Beach and the first impression was terrible.
A bunch of drunk guys "barking" at us, and believe me that’s a shock for a girl
that lives in Sweden where baking is still a proficiency of dogs.
The next day looked like things
will finally get better. There was sun and burritos!
We did a sweet ride with bikes
from Hermosa Beach all the way to Santa Monica Beach. At this point we
started to enjoy LA but not for too long. For the first time in my life I saw a
real crime scene with severely injured people. We later on found out that somebody
ran over a group of people and it all happened just a couple
of minutes before our arrival to Venice Beach.
Another thing that struck me
on this bike ride was how segregated this place was by different races. There
wasn’t so much melting going on in the LA pot. Not that it’s a mind blowing
discovery but you could almost draw a line between different races and their
beach parts.
