More ramblings from the West Coast onto a mobile phone, as my son hogs the only laptop.
The boys enjoyed Universal Studios without us standing behind them complaining about queues.
Interesting to see the only other folk getting there by public transport were the Japanese, who share our fear of hire cars and taxis. Good for them. They get to see a bit of metro art, though frankly the lines are a bit functional in the main.
We enjoyed a Christmas day at Santa Monica beach that could have been an August Sunday in Barmouth.
Seems the tradtion is for local Asian familes to come out en masse on holidays, outnumbering even the power runners and cyclists along the promenade.
A few old guys sing “Wonderful World”‘and a calypso “Over the Rainbow” at the end of Route 66, but you wouldn’t know it was Christmas.
Mrs RM fancied Bubba Gump Shrimp for late lunch, but places that don’t have prices on their outside menu should only.be entered in Belize.
So we settled for the Hummus Bar on 3rd Street, which felt a bit like walking through the new Liverpool One shopping area, though without pubs selling Bass for £3 on hand to provide relief.
Nice setting by the cinema and Christmas dinosaurs.
The Israeli salad, schwarma and hummus was superb, even better than our midmorning snack of rubbery cheese.
That was $25, not bad for LA. The beer was almost a bargain.
$6 for a 7% Firestone IPA that Mrs RM said “tasted like a stronger Punk IPA” . She was right, of course.
On the table next to us, three fitness weirdos argued about the carbs in the hummus they’d just ordered. As the waiter reached the table, they asked if it could be taken back and replaced with a salad.
The mutterings under Mrs RM’s breath were the best Christmas present I could have wished for.
For an express Hummus stop (about the size of a Subway), the bottled beer was pretty good, but the surprise was the range of taps.
Maybe thus trip isn’t a complete write-off.