Plane, Phoenix, a burger, Burbank, coffee, a friend, sleep, driving, Santa Monica, driving, the beach, a couchsurfer, Santa Barabara, hula hooping at sunset, walking, busing, drinking, drunken walking, sleep, hangover, coffee, driving… It’s gone by in a blur of planes, trains, people and sights. Time goes so fast that I completely lose track of it, what I’ve been doing and who I’ve been doing it with. My memory is shot – I know, grasshoppers, I know, I didn’t exactly have a stella mem before – and I’m forgetting really basic things, like the name of the casino in Melbs, my fave coffee haunt on Main, my mates last name… eek!
Thankfully I’m a trigger-happy beast and can use my piccies to chronologicalise my expeditions. Apparently I went to Vegas, lost my wallet at the airport and then traveled with 3 Eastern Europeans. Thankyou Canon!
So I’m currently sitting at a plastic lined table at the ‘CrawGator’s Bar & Grill’ in Venice Beach, southern Louisiana, looking out over the harbour of boats that are soon going to be hit by the oil spill. Some old crooner is on the radio (how I miss Triple J!) and I can’t really understand the guy talking a lil way away from me. Such is the south.
11 days.
Felt I was there Kayla, great stuff xx