California in the rain

 Friday morning, I awoke after a great sleep, and began to work, with some anxiety, knowing that I was flying to Los Angeles that afternoon, and that I had still to pack my bags. Being a somewhat experienced traveller, I knew that I needn’t worry too much, but I always tend to get stressed about silly things like phone chargers and speakers and AirPods and headphones and power for my computer. At 1pm, we had a meeting between all of the members of our organisation across the Americas, from Canada to Argentina. When the meeting ended, I was sweating with anxiety. I showered, put on fresh clothes, and set out for the airport. As usual, it was a very easy trip on the train from my apartment to DFW airport. I took the SkyLink from terminal A to terminal D and went for a beer. After the drink, I boarded the plane, but as I scanned my boarding pass, there was consternation on the face of the ground staff. After frantically clicking his mouse for 5 minutes, he said ‘oh, it’s because of the change of plane’ (nothing had been said about a plane change.). He issued a boarding pass… the same seat I am always sitting in… but this time I had specifically chosen something different. It seemed I couldn’t escape. On the plane I had another beer and, as we were about to taxi to the runway, the ground staff had to re-board the plane and recount passengers. We were delayed for one hour.

Severe weather warnings had been appearing all day and, sure enough, descending into Los Angeles, we had to accelerate to a dangerous extent to land with minimal interference from the wind. Walking into the airport, amidst a torrential downpour, I felt a tremendous sense of relief. But it was late, and I still needed to get a taxi to the hotel. Fortunately, with only hand luggage, I walked to the bus to transfer to the taxi terminal. The bus was crowded with soaking wet people. I got up to offer my seat to an elderly man and he took up the offer. This action brought beautiful smiles from a lady who had been sitting next to me and was impressed with my act of kindness. I also liked the fact that each time I glanced at her, she was looking at my bottom. For the first time in a thousand years, I felt like someone might find me attractive.

Getting off the bus, the rain was falling sideways. It was extremely windy. I stood, along with others, under some makeshift shelter, that was providing very little shelter, and summoned a taxi (Uber). Incredibly, my driver was there in just over 4 minutes and I was able to comfortably escape the rain. The driver was talkative, and we got into an interesting discussion about Los Angeles, his hometown, and how much he loved it. He spoke to me of the ‘feeling’ of LA and how he couldn’t live anywhere else. The roads were flooded, but he claimed to love driving in the rain. When we arrived at my hotel, the entrance was so flooded that he drove up the curb. ‘I think you hit the curb a little’, I said. ‘No, man, that wasn’t the curb, that was the dead guy lying in the street, under water, who we couldn’t see’, was his hilarious response.

In the morning, as always when I am in California, I awoke around 04:30am, and discovered that there was no coffee in the room. Outside, there was still torrential rain. The hotel’s internet had suddenly died the night before and it was still down. I was ready to punch someone. I dressed and went downstairs to see if the hotel had coffee. ‘Oh, yes, errrr, we just made a pot, one moment.’ Five minutes later the guy reappeared ‘sorry, sir, that pot is finished, if you give us five minutes, we will make another and give you some.’ I waited about ten minutes, during which time I asked about the internet… ‘oh, it’s down in the area.’ Great, in Los Angeles, in a flood, awake at 5am, paying a fortune for my room… and there is no coffee, no internet, and no alternatives.

Ten minutes later, I was handed a cup of coffee and I walked up to my room, climbed back into bed, sipped the coffee. It was disgusting. I drank water and lay down to read until dawn broke. Once there was light in the sky, I got dressed again and took a walk down to Santa Monica pier. The sun had started to break through the clouds and over the sea the sky had turned completely blue. I hadn’t taken my sunglasses, I had not suspected I would need them, and now I was being dazzled by the light. But I was delighted to be out and to be here once more in such a beautiful place. I finally started to break free of my mental dark cloud, the constant irritation that had accompanied me from the moment I set foot on the plane, and started to feel positive, free, and grateful once more. I walked back to the hotel as it was getting warmer and brighter, I wanted to change and come back out again.

At the hotel, I showered and watched some English soccer, spoke to some of my friends in Europe, and on the other side of the US, then ventured out again, equipped with sunglasses, to find a place to have a beer and some lunch. By the time I started to walk towards the beach, the sky had clouded over once more, and a light drizzle had started to fall.

It suddenly entered my mind that many people were reaching out to me about their struggles and talking about their depression. People were posting a lot about how they hide it inside and don’t show it. The perception was that, because I have a ‘good job’, and because I travel a lot, that I am happy all the time and oblivious to any pain. The truth is, because my family have had such a hard time for so many years, I have had to be the ‘strong’ one. In reality, I am hiding my pain, too. It made me wonder… is everyone simply hiding their pain inside? Are we all in pain?

With these thoughts, I found myself back on the pier and, as the rain was falling with increasing intensity, I stepped into a cool bar/restaurant that seemed old and cozy in its creaky weariness. I sat at the bar and ordered a beer, sitting back to take in my surroundings, which included a view of the beach and the pier. An elderly Asian couple came and sat next to me and ordered wine, which filled me with a greater warmth and sense of peace. My beer rapidly dissipated, so I ordered a second.

After lunch, I walked back to my hotel in rain that seemed angry in its persistence. By this time, a little bit drunk, I was enjoying it. The fact that I was on my way to the hotel and knew I could shower and change into dry clothes really helped a lot, too. I arrived, undressed, had a hot shower, put on some dry clothes and my flip flops, and walked down to the hotel bar. There were two beautiful women sitting at one corner of the bar, they were deep in conversation and drinking beer. I sat quietly off to the side of them and ordered a glass of wine. I entered into a discussion with the lady who served me the wine, but I struggle to recall any of the details of the conversation. I was just enjoying the feeling of being dry and warm and inside as the rain fell so violently outside. After a second glass of wine, I ordered food, took it to my room, ate, read, and fell asleep.

Sunday morning, I awoke to the sun rising into an orange-blue sky. I was able to search, online, for a nearby coffee shop, and found the perfect one: Dogtown Coffee… a surf shop/coffee shop that was about 600 metres from my hotel. I took the short walk and ordered a breakfast burrito and cappuccino, then walked back to my hotel to enjoy them in peace as I awaited the start of the League Cup Soccer final that was taking place in London at 08:30am Los Angeles time.

After the game, I set out on foot once again, this time to take a long and scenic walk to the Santa Monica Art Museum. I walked down to the beach, then eventually up towards a bridge that crossed over the highway. Once over the highway, I was amazed by the beauty of the views from the gardens beside the pavement overlooking the ocean and mountains from Ocean Avenue. I made my way up through the trendy area, up Arizona Avenue, and arrived at the Art Museum only to find a sign on the door reading that the museum was closed due to maintenance as a result of the severe weather.

I walked around downtown Santa Monica, exploring the local attractions and, as hunger started to strike, I made my way back towards the beach. I live in Texas, so, when in California, I prefer not to eat or drink in places that are not overlooking the ocean… or, at least, right next to it. I made my way to a place called Big Dave’s. Big Dave’s is a real gem of a place. It looks like a tiny place from the front but, once inside, one discovers different bar areas, tables, and passages, there is even a little garden patch at the back where the loos are. A lovely Mexican lady saw me sitting unattended at the bar and came over to take my order. As she was pouring my beer, a customer tried to catch her attention, shouting ‘señora, señora’. The lady ignored her and it made me smile. As she put my beer down on the table she said to me ‘I heard her, but I ignored her… she is assuming I am Spanish speaking and she is trying to bypass the process.’ I said to her ‘you did the right thing, and it made me smile.’ After that, she kept coming over to chat to me and as I was leaving, she gave me a free drink.’ A wonderful afternoon.

The following morning, I awoke to rain once more. I felt down and lonely. I took a walk to the pier, the rain had subsided, and I had breakfast. I walked back to the hotel for a shower and decided to take a walk to Venice beach. About 15 minutes into my beachside walk, rain started to fall in buckets, and I was rapidly getting soaked. However, being in the middle of nowhere, I had no option but to continue. I made it to Venice Beach and, due to the rain, it seemed that everyone had just decided to stay home. Nothing was open and there were no people anywhere. Therefore, I started to walk back in the direction of my hotel and the pier. I had already checked out of the hotel, so I felt that there was not much point in going there until I was actually heading back to the airport and needed to collect my bag. It was still before midday and the only place open was the bar and restaurant that I went to for lunch on my first day. Remembering how warm and cozy it was, I headed there. Arriving thirty minutes later, I took my MacBook out of my backpack and out of its sheath so that it could remain dry. Rain had just started to soak through the sheath, so I made it just in time. I took off my coat as well as my shoes and socks, slipping on flip flops, and ordered a beer to pass the time as the rain feel upon the beach outside. O’ happy time.