America #3
Now, in theory, my California trip had a purpose. I was doing some research for alarm panel integration plus showing the dudes at our partnering company the new 2008 version of the software. Truth is, I doubt I could bore everyone with the details since I was uber jetlagged and, as such, mentally handicapped. In a sentence - I arrived; drank some Mountain Dew; broke everything and left Arion to fix it while I ended up in a baffling accountancy meeting; took lots of notes because my brain wasn't retaining anything; and gave a ropey software demo.
And then to relax after the hard day, we headed off to Downtown Disney and got drunk. Gotta love America! Downtown Disney, by the way, is a street owned and maintained by the Disney Corporation but is open to the general public free of charge. They have bars, gift shops, restaurants and the like. Some of it is heavily Disneyfied, some of it is not. All of it is themed in some way. And it is, for the most part, awesome!
We started the evening well by going to the ESPN arcade. For the unenlightened, ESPN is the American sports TV network, and the ESPN centre is like a control room for all the current US sport. There are banks of monitors showing every possible popular sport with rankings, live scores and the like for baseball, football, hockey, basketball etc. Plus a huge arcade with a mixture of video and mechanical sports-based games. We all grabbed a beer and headed into the frey. We played air hockey, shot hoops, raced Harleys, beach buggies and went skiing. Good ol' fashioned American fun.
Then on to a restaurant for my first taste of authentic Mexican food! I had some spicey chicken, black beans, rice and plantains. Not really keen for black beans but plantains are delicious! Matt and Arion discussed the vast array of Tequila in the cabinet and I sat drowsily watching American families shuffle about outside in the cool, California night air.
The following day at work was a similarly confused affair but we got all we needed to do finished. Matt headed out early to attend another business meeting and left Arion and I to our own devices. I knew above all that, while I was in the OC, I had to go to the beach and stand in the Pacific for a bit. There's nothing quite like getting your feet wet in a new ocean, since each one is subtley different. The texture and colour of the sand, the temperature and hue of the water, the smell of the air, and the shape of the surf. That day there were huge rollers making their way in during the afternoon's high tide. Groups of surfer dudes were treading water as the waves pushed on through, catching the most collossal, and riding them into shore.
I removed my shoes and socks, rolled up my trousers, and allowed the cool water to flood the spaces between my toes. Boy, that felt good. I gave Arion my camera to play around with while I phoned my parents. Well, I had to, didn't I? "Guess where I'm standing...?" Had to be done, I'm sorry. The surreality was so delightful that I had to share the moment. And, in true Trigger-Happy styling, my situation was well conveyed through shouting into a mobile phone amid the deafening roar of the approaching ocean.
Huntington is a stunning beach lined with giant palms, beach huts, trendy restaurants and the like. There are plenty of volleyball courts, frequented by brazen dudes with torsos the size and shape of armchairs, and admiring beach chicks in tow. And there is a long and attractive pier heading out into the depths.
I wandered up the pier with Arion as he leant out to snap pictures. Dizzy with excitement and happy in the sun, I ambled along absently through a crowd of hispanic kids. Arion pulled me aside shortly afterwards and gave me a few hushed words of advice. Looking back, the kids all had shaved heads. Shaved heads and matching white vests, pants and trainers. Quite feasibly, Arion warned, members of a gang. "Walk around the group next time, Sean. You have to show some respect."
And fair enough. American gang culture is legendary and terrifying to contemplate. California alone has over fifty recognised gangs, each acting as a separate entity. Feeling glad that my ass remained uncapped, I promised myself to be more forward-thinking in future. You can never be too careful in a place where any kid in a shell-suit could be packing a 9mm...
Arion and I returned to the car and arranged to meet Dana further south at a rooftop bar called El Casa del Caminos. Cruising down the Pacific Coastal Highway, we could hardly believe the size and positioning of the properties in view. Huge terraces and French windows, overlooking perfect beach views as the sun set vividly in the West. Amazing properties. Many of which were probably available at a similar price to your average terraced property in London! What a stunning location.
Up we went to the rooftops to find Dana waiting for us. The rooftop bar was very Mediterranean-looking and commanded an amazing view of the bay below. A few beers and cocktails later, our conversation was interrupted by a Jay Leno lookalike who took a keen interest in Dana. I knew she was in trouble when he started complaining about his wife and talking about why he was such a big shot. We played along politely for a while, giving the shameless charlatan enough rope to hang himself with. I couldn't resist asking him if he knew how to get to the Playboy mansion and I'm still unsure if he even realised I was taking the piss... Anyway - it was evidently time to vacate!
After a quick dinner, Dana took us up the street to what the Americans refer to as a dive bar called The Sandpiper (which I believe is a type of bird living on the Pacific). It was packed out with a colourful array of Californians - the trendy kids, the stoner dudes, the surfers, the lone businessmen, the undying hippies, forever-young crones, fake-ID teens, gold diggers, tequila swiggers, and plenty of unclassifieds. I was delighted to see the bar stocked Newcastle Brown, a welcome relief from the light beer favoured in the States. We grabbed a couple of bottles and eased on down to the front for some easy skanking. The Sandpiper just got busier and busier until it was shoulder-to-shoulder crammed. I was taken aback to see girls peeing in the men's room to avoid the line for the ladies'. I think it was their "don't mind us!" attitude that surprised me most, but then, why should it be such a surprise? This was California, after all, home of the laidback open books. I laughed and smiled at the girls and they returned the sentiment as I rolled back out to the dancefloor and eased back into the happy pulsing movement of contented Reggae rhythm.
And then to relax after the hard day, we headed off to Downtown Disney and got drunk. Gotta love America! Downtown Disney, by the way, is a street owned and maintained by the Disney Corporation but is open to the general public free of charge. They have bars, gift shops, restaurants and the like. Some of it is heavily Disneyfied, some of it is not. All of it is themed in some way. And it is, for the most part, awesome!
We started the evening well by going to the ESPN arcade. For the unenlightened, ESPN is the American sports TV network, and the ESPN centre is like a control room for all the current US sport. There are banks of monitors showing every possible popular sport with rankings, live scores and the like for baseball, football, hockey, basketball etc. Plus a huge arcade with a mixture of video and mechanical sports-based games. We all grabbed a beer and headed into the frey. We played air hockey, shot hoops, raced Harleys, beach buggies and went skiing. Good ol' fashioned American fun.
Then on to a restaurant for my first taste of authentic Mexican food! I had some spicey chicken, black beans, rice and plantains. Not really keen for black beans but plantains are delicious! Matt and Arion discussed the vast array of Tequila in the cabinet and I sat drowsily watching American families shuffle about outside in the cool, California night air.
The following day at work was a similarly confused affair but we got all we needed to do finished. Matt headed out early to attend another business meeting and left Arion and I to our own devices. I knew above all that, while I was in the OC, I had to go to the beach and stand in the Pacific for a bit. There's nothing quite like getting your feet wet in a new ocean, since each one is subtley different. The texture and colour of the sand, the temperature and hue of the water, the smell of the air, and the shape of the surf. That day there were huge rollers making their way in during the afternoon's high tide. Groups of surfer dudes were treading water as the waves pushed on through, catching the most collossal, and riding them into shore.
I removed my shoes and socks, rolled up my trousers, and allowed the cool water to flood the spaces between my toes. Boy, that felt good. I gave Arion my camera to play around with while I phoned my parents. Well, I had to, didn't I? "Guess where I'm standing...?" Had to be done, I'm sorry. The surreality was so delightful that I had to share the moment. And, in true Trigger-Happy styling, my situation was well conveyed through shouting into a mobile phone amid the deafening roar of the approaching ocean.
Huntington is a stunning beach lined with giant palms, beach huts, trendy restaurants and the like. There are plenty of volleyball courts, frequented by brazen dudes with torsos the size and shape of armchairs, and admiring beach chicks in tow. And there is a long and attractive pier heading out into the depths.
I wandered up the pier with Arion as he leant out to snap pictures. Dizzy with excitement and happy in the sun, I ambled along absently through a crowd of hispanic kids. Arion pulled me aside shortly afterwards and gave me a few hushed words of advice. Looking back, the kids all had shaved heads. Shaved heads and matching white vests, pants and trainers. Quite feasibly, Arion warned, members of a gang. "Walk around the group next time, Sean. You have to show some respect."
And fair enough. American gang culture is legendary and terrifying to contemplate. California alone has over fifty recognised gangs, each acting as a separate entity. Feeling glad that my ass remained uncapped, I promised myself to be more forward-thinking in future. You can never be too careful in a place where any kid in a shell-suit could be packing a 9mm...
Arion and I returned to the car and arranged to meet Dana further south at a rooftop bar called El Casa del Caminos. Cruising down the Pacific Coastal Highway, we could hardly believe the size and positioning of the properties in view. Huge terraces and French windows, overlooking perfect beach views as the sun set vividly in the West. Amazing properties. Many of which were probably available at a similar price to your average terraced property in London! What a stunning location.
Up we went to the rooftops to find Dana waiting for us. The rooftop bar was very Mediterranean-looking and commanded an amazing view of the bay below. A few beers and cocktails later, our conversation was interrupted by a Jay Leno lookalike who took a keen interest in Dana. I knew she was in trouble when he started complaining about his wife and talking about why he was such a big shot. We played along politely for a while, giving the shameless charlatan enough rope to hang himself with. I couldn't resist asking him if he knew how to get to the Playboy mansion and I'm still unsure if he even realised I was taking the piss... Anyway - it was evidently time to vacate!
After a quick dinner, Dana took us up the street to what the Americans refer to as a dive bar called The Sandpiper (which I believe is a type of bird living on the Pacific). It was packed out with a colourful array of Californians - the trendy kids, the stoner dudes, the surfers, the lone businessmen, the undying hippies, forever-young crones, fake-ID teens, gold diggers, tequila swiggers, and plenty of unclassifieds. I was delighted to see the bar stocked Newcastle Brown, a welcome relief from the light beer favoured in the States. We grabbed a couple of bottles and eased on down to the front for some easy skanking. The Sandpiper just got busier and busier until it was shoulder-to-shoulder crammed. I was taken aback to see girls peeing in the men's room to avoid the line for the ladies'. I think it was their "don't mind us!" attitude that surprised me most, but then, why should it be such a surprise? This was California, after all, home of the laidback open books. I laughed and smiled at the girls and they returned the sentiment as I rolled back out to the dancefloor and eased back into the happy pulsing movement of contented Reggae rhythm.
[ Entry posted at: Sat 07 Jun 2008 01:11:10 BST | 0 comment(s)... | Cat: News ]