LA: Saturday afternoon

Continued from last post

So we were walking south back towards Wilshire and took a slightly different route by turning down Cahuenga instead of along Normandie like we had come earlier. We were soon walking through a very, very nice residential area around Melrose which was exactly the kind of typical American street you see on TV. Massive houses and huge front gardens, you could just imagine a paper delivery boy chucking a newspaper from his bike. Pleasant as it was, we were beginning to tire, big time. Our legs had begun to hurt, and stepping up kurbs was an effort. Counting down the roads towards Wilshire, the gaps between 6th and 5th, then 4th.... all seemed to be getting progressively bigger and it seemed like we'd never get back. When we finally hit Wilshire, there was still a couple of miles left to go.

We stopped at a 7/11 to get some booze and ice lollies (which I dripped all down the front of my white shirt), passed yet another Denny's (which was only 10 mins away from the hotel, if we'd walked this way earlier we could have eaten such a nicer meal) and finally got back to the room. We collapsed on the beds and opened some enormous cans of Fosters (each one was over a pint, and this was standard). We quickly finished those and then moved on to a curious drink we'd decided to get as well. It was called Sparks, and also came in a massive can. It was like Red Bull with all the caffeine and taurine and what not in it, plus it was 7% alcohol. We drank a can each, chilled out for a bit watching the college football then headed to Denny's for dinner.

We were both sat in there with wide eyes and feeling a bit spaced out; this was definitely something to do with the Sparks. I couldn't finish my burger and chips, which is very unusual for me, and we then set off for a night out.

Now, for some stupid reason, it didn't cross our minds to get a cab or bus or go on the metro. We walked it again back into Hollywood towards this bar that a barmaid had recommended to us earlier. This time, the walk was LONG. We were limping, constantly in pain and cursing our injuries. Daz had blisters on his feet and my calves were in a bad way.

At long last, after a seemingly impossibly long walk, we found the bar at the junction of Sunset and Orange. We showed the bouncer our IDs and walked in. The bar was to our right, and a table with some chairs was to our left - we took the chairs. We just collapsed on some stools, fantasically grateful that the walking was over. A rep from the bar soon approached us and asked if we wanted table service, to which we gave a resounding yes.

A few hours later we were moved off the table because they were packing up. We stood at the bar for a bit and asked one of the staff if the place was closing. He gave us a bit of a strange look and said 'no, we're getting ready for the night ahead'. We then asked him the time and it was only 10pm! It sure as hell felt a lot later than that. Shortly afterwards I found my eyes closing and I could barely stay awake despite the loud music and being stood right in the middle of a bustling bar. Daz and I agreed to call it a night and jumped into the first cab in sight.

Back at the hotel it was straight to bed, straight to sleep.