The mojitos are wearing off already. No one makes a drink like they do in DC (except maybe at Al Udeid, but that’s because the liquor goes in one glass and they hand you a can of mixer. Unlike many of my brethren I was happier when the ice melted and there was enough Coke to stop my tongue from being pickled alive by the Bacardi) and I was foolish to expect otherwise.
I took a few turns which led to parking lots on my way north, off the PCH, and into LA. I should have either stuck with the PCH or found somewhere to park and eat after I passed the Beverly Center. West Hollywood is cute but far less manicured than expected. The streets, not the boys. After much turning and fretting, I managed to get on the 101 and headed up to Santa Clarita; I’m staying off Magic Mountain Pkwy…
It’s been a good time, even the work. Lots of fun texts and curios explored and glass objects I WANT at Laguna Beach but would then have to ship and they’d break and so no. Saw some”kids” in a Mustang that made me think of Western MD. Well the white ones at least.
Be good to get back, once all this is done. Forty hours still feels odd, and I’m at loose ends.
Yes, but the food. Are you experiencing any gastronomical delights?
Ha ha, the vast selection was ignored just for In N Out and BJ’s. Sort of a gastronomical excursion into suburban gastromica.