Malibu

One thing you won't be hearing from us is the lame apology most small-time bloggers give when they haven't been blogging for a while. As if they weren't giving this stuff away for free anyway. We've been home for three weeks now, which puts the blog 6 or 7 weeks behind, and you can eat it grunge-bag. We haven't FELT like blogging. Here's your GD next post. :)

We were finally on our way out of the black hole of over-saturated California-ness that is the LA area, though we wouldn't get too far that day. I wanted to stop in Malibu to, of course, surf. There wasn't much swell when we got there in the late afternoon, so I convinced Michelle that we had to sleep in the area that night so I could try in the early morning.




We stood on a cliff and took these shots. We did a crappy job, though, 'cause it was much nicer being up there than it is to look at these photos. I asked Michelle to pose for one of our "I stand on the right side of the frame, she stands on the left, I hold the camera, she buries her face in my shoulder so as to hide her face, and I try to not make my neck look fat" pictures, but she said she was feeling too ugly and vehemently refused. It had been a rough couple nights.


Duke Kahanamoku is credited with bringing the sport of surfing to the mainstream. It's tough to beat old pictures of him. Whoever's in charge of his licensing agreements, though, could be doing a better job. That night we ate at "Duke's Barefoot Bar" in the 'Bu - annoying nickname which Michelle and I made fun of quite a bit. It's a pretty crummy but not terrible chain of restaurants in California and Hawaii. We ate a giant pile of nachos, drank some Hawaiian beer (Primo, it was watery piss beer, terrible) and got a tip from the bartender (he was from New Hampshire! We got free dessert!) on where to park the van that night to sleep. It was a nice dark side road next to a park. Not a bad night's sleep.


I got up early the next day and drove the van down to the pier to check the surf, with Michelle and Freddie still sprawled out on the bed. It was foggy and a bit yucks out in the water so we parked and went back to sleep, waiting for the sun to get up a little higher. We awoke to a Japanese man puking on our van. Yep. Puking right on our van. The tire, to be fair, and he did actually come back with a bottle of water to wash it off. Asians. Bad things happen when you hide in a car so well that it occurs to no one that there might actually be someone in there.


The picture above is Surfrider Beach. I mean, I guess that's what it's called. I never actually heard anyone use that name. Or maybe I did but forgot 'cause it's a pretty stupid name. You can see how the waves rather famously break at three different points. Super long rides. A little piece of surf history there. Cool. I went out and surfed terribly. It was intimidating being there and all the guys were pretty aggro. Oh well, next time.


Michelle took some pictures of some dying sea life! Apparently she tried to snap a photo of all the surfboards and other surfy looking things accumulating on the beach throughout the morning, but even those dudes were sorta aggro, so no go. Maybe it was just my secret optimism and naiveté, or maybe it was all the beach/surf movies from the 60s and 70s, but I think I imagined Malibu being a little friendlier. Too rich, too cranky. But that's just our passing, one day and a half snap judgment, what do we know?

Up the coast

Not having driven up the California coast before, I think our expectations were more on the side of scenic and sunny rather slow and trying. There were just too many places to stop, too many surf spots to check, and too little places to park the van for the night. That may sound like a complaint, and maybe it is, but keep in mind we had been on the road for 6 or 7 weeks at this point. We got punched in the face with so much gorgeous landscape and coastline that this turned into the part of the trip where we started going numb. Again, I sound pretty negative but I prefer to paint the whole picture. Really, the coast was incredibly amazing, so pretty, blah blah, good work California you win the prize.


For (my) silly business reasons, we had to hang around the outskirts of LA for another night. Another absurd night. We drove to Santa Monica, took advantage of happy hour, and decided there was nothing in town we wanted to eat. As lots of people have, Michelle and I had heard about the Kogi Korean BBQ to-go truck, on the Food Network or the Travel Channel, which parks itself among the other trucks in Venice. So we drove back over to Venice. There were this many people there. Plus a million more on the street. Too. Much.


Short rib burrito, spicy pork tacos, kimchi quesadilla, 4 Kogi sliders, grape Crush. Too. Much. Everything was so delicious. Juicy, spicy, hand-held. Perfect. Really some of the best food we had.

We drove BACK to Santa Monica that night for sleepy time. After some argument and a much too long trip out to an unwelcoming Home Depot parking lot, we settled on parking in a street spot in front of a church. We figured the church will either be super quiet at night, or crazies will be milling about. I'll let you guess which circumstance we encountered. After parking, of course, Michelle had to pee. Back onto the street for a bathroom search, with brand new results this time: a 24 hour FedEx/Kinkos. Awesome.

This is the photo you're getting of the Santa Monica Pier and you'll like it, suckers.



We had to be BACK in Venice by lunch - I told you our time here was a bit absurd - but we had time in the morning to walk through the farmers' market near the promenade. It's California, so of course it was absolutely lovely. Also, we saw Molly Ringwald. She signed our book. Just kidding we don't have a book. These guys above were slinging raw oysters so oooobviously Michelle and I had to partake, as we are oyster fiends. We were not disappointed as we may have been in Louisiana.

A bit more running around, a discussion as to whether we're making a huge mistake and should we get on a plane and go home... a decision to keep going, then back on Route 1.

Los Angeles Part 2

The next day we woke up, still stuffed with ramen and followed Christina to the Griffith Observatory for a "hike."

In New England, a hike is involved and means you have boots and walking sticks and energy bars. In California, it's a walk up a hill that you can do in flip flops. Oh California, why are you so awesome.




We got home, quite dusty, and before we knew it, it was time to get on the road again. We thanked Jon & Christina for their hospitality and did some last minute sightseeing.

We first decided to go to the LA MOCA, which turned out to be in the neighborhood of one of Jon's recommendations - Wurstkuche.



We got a rattlesnake & rabbit (with jalapenos) and a duck & bacon. Both sausages came with grilled onions and peppers on the side and your choice of condiments. We also split the delicious fries with special dipping sauces.


After eating wayyy too much we checked out the MOCA. It's a smallish museum with a few different branches but a lot of great work by California artists. You should definitely check it out if you are in the area, but in my opinion, not enough Ruscha.

Now, to make it up the coast!