Devoted Readers,
In defense for my lack of updates; I thought the only avid readers were our parents, and they know that we safely arrived in Sydney on the 12th October!
For the rest of you, I have to do some back-tracking...
After four enjoyable days in Santa Barbara, we regrettably wheeled South for the Big Smoke: 'Hell-A' as the song goes. Our final road, fittingly, took us down US Hwy 1. As you'd expect, the Coast road down to LA was busy - but then the traffic helped to distract us from the sobering thought that we were running out of roads!
The Hwy 1 skirts by the Pacific, giving you plentiful ocean views. However our attention was mainly focused on the big trucks and souped up cars bound for LA. Near Ventura, the huge Naval base shifted the ocean views to featureless razor-wired fence. A damned inconvenient spot to suddenly need a loo. After a few miles, we were returned to the cliffs overlooking the ocean and soon arrived at our camping destination: Point Mugu State Park. As it was a Friday, plenty of SUV's were queing at the campsite entrance, so we decided to hit the nearby beach before checking in. A swim, bottle of wine and sunset later, we were able to check in at the Rangers' station without much ado. Our final 'Hiker Biker' campsite; it made us sad we didn't have any beer (and there were no shops in sight.)
This campsite was easily the busiest we've been to yet; unsurprising, given its' proximity to L.A. Furthermore it was Labour Day long weekend, and the SUV comfort-campers were out in force. We set up our trusty tent then headed for the showers. Coin-operated; d'oh. However this revelation spurred us on to approach a group of happy campers for some change. We came for coin, but departed with an invite to beers and home-cooked chilli (and coin.) An hour later we were sucking down Buds, hearing about where not to go in LA (around our hotel, for instance)-and sampling the best damn chilli either of us have had. We finally ambled back to our tent with that now-familiar, warm & fuzzy feeling you get from being welcomed by strangers (and drinking their beer.) The following morning, we returned to their campsite to say goodby. We came away with a fresh batch of email addresses and warm wishes. Those guys!
Our last day on the bikes; we pedaled towards LA feeling wistful, and tried to absorb the ocean views between snatches of traffic. From the road we could only catch glimpses of the palatial beachside properties of Malibu (just as their inhabitants intended.) We liked to think we were mere meters from famous Hollywood types, as they went about mundane tasks like making coffee or googling themselves.
The traffic became increasingly frantic as we drew closer to L.A. As Matt referred to our map at a red light near Santa Monica beach, a friendly older cyclist motioned to us to follow him. We did, and he prove a Los-Angel. Charlie went out of his way (literally - as he indicated where he was eventually headed)-to route us into the heart of LA. He even paused several times to point out local points of interest; where Lindsy Lohan was last arrested; where Arnie kept his office (away from the usual Mayors' offices; so he could continue to smoke cigars.) Charlie left us with clear final instructions to our hotel, and bid us a great stay in L.A.
We duly found our very lo-fi but friendly hotel; optimistically titled 'LAX Suites' in Inglewood (a stones throw from the planes taking off.) To pass the time while I room was made up, we hit the nearby Mexican restaurant. Matt spotted a bunch of lycra-clad social cyclists, and asked them where we might find a bike shop for boxes for flying our bikes. Not only did the chatty group give us some great bike shop tip-offs; they insisted on posing for a photo with us for their website. LA was shaping up to be a very accommodating city!
The evening faded with beers in our hotel room over nostalgia for the trip we had now officially completed.
Sunday we awoke to our first and last full day in Los Angeles. The morning news informed us that much of the city was closed off to traffic, to host a 'ride/run/walk' event... An invitation to local communities to reclaim their streets and get moving. Matt was rapturous (obviously.) Leaving the bikes to enjoy the hotel room, we donned our trainers, jumped on the subway and hit down-town to get physical. Most of the thousands of participants were on bikes, some of them shouting 'hey you forgot your wheels!' as we jogged past. Little did they know! Matts' Garmin clocked 8 miles before we got down to China Town, sweaty and knackered. Still, it was a fun and novel way to go sightseeing!
After an obligatory visit to the tourist-trashy 'Walk of Fame' (we didn't recognize most of the names immortalized on the pavement) - we embarked upon an epic journey to Walmart. As usual, the Retail Giant was on the suburban fringe of town... and LA is one big town! Several modes of public transport later, we arrived victorious to pick up a few special purchase requests from abroad. Suffice to say, the journey home after nightfall featured some quirky people watching. Tired and hungry, we succumbed to Taco Bell for a truly tasteless dinner, before collapsing back at the hotel (once we had kissed the ground... It had been a colorful bus ride!)
Monday was a sad day full of boring logistics (begging a few bike shops for boxes; buying packing materials; packing our worldly possessions of the past months into bags.) By afternoon there was nothing left to do but morosely drink beers by the hotel pool (the kind manger let us loiter with intent)-then begrudgingly lug all our gear to the bus stop. It took two trips to get all the bags and bikes in a big stack by the bus stop. The hotel manager christened Matt as 'Super Boy!' (English was his second language so Matt didn't begrudge him the 'boy' as opposed to 'man'.)
Daughter of an airline pilot, we were checked in for our flight with over 4 hours to spare. This time we spent making a few phonecalls, drinking beer and in my case - picking up a bit of food poisoning from some airport food. I will refrain from a blow-by-blow account of the nightmare flight to Sydney! I shall never eat seafood in an airport again.
I dont want to leave our blog on a sour note (literally). So instead I will praise the Kindness of America. In 88 days and 9 States, we consistently met kind, generous, interesting and welcoming American people. It was a truly humbling, inspiring experience that we would urge anyone to undertake. Get out there, talk to all you meet and come away with an uplifted view of life in general.
Finally (whether they read this or not)- we would like to issue a big warm THANKYOU to the countless Americans who made our ride the trip of our lives. May Karma smile upon you! The US has alot to be proud of.
: )
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| We think this hefty-pooch would have been better off running alongside! |
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| Point Mugu State Beach, where we camped our last night (sniff) |
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| 'Hollywoodised spelling of Hassall' |
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| Fooooreeeeeeeever! |
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| Cycling Santa Monica Beach (trying to mince on our bikes) |
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| Matt lugging our bikes from the airport motel to the airport bus |
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| Final reading was 4,463 miles...But that doesn't include the 30+ day into San Fran (before Bev hreoically delivered this forgotten Cateye at the Ferry port!) |
