I arrived in LA on Wednesday about an hour ahead of schedule, my aunt picked me up and we went to the Santa Monica pier for fish tacos and a ride on the ferris wheel - but luckily not in that order. Cloud cover hid the sun for most the evening, but occasionally it shone through and lit up the beach and the palisades, giving the whole panorama a ‘California’ feel as pure as the driven snow.
As it happens I have another aunt and a cousin who live in Santa Monica. The Dray side of my family clearly has some predilection for California, as three of my Dad’s four siblings live or have lived there at some point. There’s been no explanation offered for this, but after growing up in Old Deerfield it probably provided some nice contrast.
After leaving the pier we drove to Santa Monica high school so I could surprise my cousin after her practice. The place reminded me of saved by the bell or something., with absurdly tall palm trees lining the walkways. My cousin showed up and instead of jumping out and saying hi I walked behind her and asked, in a muffled voice, if she had any spare change. I don’t know if panhandlers regularly accost SaMo students coming out of buildings, but as if trained she immediately said no and started walking away from me. “Really?” I said, “Not even for your cousin?”
The flight from LAX – read ‘chill’ – to Sydney is fourteen hours long. I had the middle seat, but what I lacked in elbow room I made up for with leg room. The emergency aisle was key. The second I saw all this open space in front of me I made plans to curl up on the ground, but the pilot actually made an announcement saying that sleeping on the floors is prohibited. I wonder how many people had to try that before they made it part of the pre-flight briefing.
I didn’t sleep a ton, unlike the lady next to me who was conscious for maybe two hours of the entire trip. Mid-flight the guy sitting on my right saw a crewing picture on my computer and struck up a conversation. To my surprise I was sitting next to a former rower for the Soviet national team. His name is Boris Tarasov, former sculling champion. 60-something years old, these days he is a professor of physics as well as inventor. His most popular invention is – not surprisingly – crewing related. He made a bike called the Row N Roll that transfers the energy of the rowing stroke into forward motion. Think of an erg on wheels.
We circled the Sydney area once before landing, giving an awesome view of the city and the suburbs. The opera hall and adjacent bridge looked spectacular.
I got to the rent-a-car place about a half hour later, collected my car – which makes the mini cooper look like the Grave Digger, and set out on my way to Cronulla. Driving on the left side of the road is rattling to say the least. On the way to Cronulla I had to ask an old lady standing on the corner for better directions. She obliged and I departed, but not before cheerfully reminding her that senior citizens - although slow and dangerous behind the wheel - can still serve a purpose.
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