K’thump, K’thump, K’thump goes the sound of the tube as we bump along the central line. K’thump, Phuuuuuuuuup. “The next station is Bank. Please mind the gap between the train and the platform. Change here for the Circle, District, Northern, and Waterloo and City lines and the DLR”. In my head I’m running through all the timings and logistics of getting to the airport on time, questioning myself if I remembered to turn the heating off, lock the front door and pack everything that I need. Shit! My camera charger.

I can picture it now, on the bedside table where I specifically put it so that I wouldn’t forget it. Can I get by without it?

The train pulls away towards the next station, St. Paul’s. I have a big decision to make. I love taking photos. Especially travel photos and this is a big trip. Surely I must go back for my charger. After all, my schedule has a buffer built in for emergencies. Isn’t this an emergency? My mind is made up; I must get my camera charger. So I get off at St. Paul’s station and like a trained police dog, I run through the tunnel and over the bridge to the next platform and alight a training heading in the opposite direction.

K’thump, K’thump, K’thump, “The next station is Bank”. What am I doing? I’m heading away from the airport! This is madness, (yet I’m thinking of the Clash.) I’m second guessing my decision to head back home. Maybe I should abort this plan at the next stop and continue on my journey to London Heathrow? Getting close to the stop. Probably around 12 seconds until the doors open. It feels so wrong to be heading away from the airport. 8 seconds. Should I stay or should I go now? 6 seconds. Maybe my battery will last the entire trip? 3 seconds. No. I made a decision. I have the time. I need my camera charger.

I continue back home to Mile End, all the time running the new timings and logistics of this plan through my head.

Greetings Traveller!

The above happened on Monday 24th April, 2006 as I was traveling from London to Los Angles to visit my friends and attend the Coachella music festival. I kept a travel diary to record events; however I recently re-read it and was disappointed with the writing style I had used. This blog post is a total rewrite, based on my initial travel notes, the photos I took and the memories still in my head.

I left you on the cliff-hanger that was my journey to the airport. But did I make it to the airport on time?

At the airport

I made it to the airport on time.

Deep breath, and relax. And what better place? Terminal 1 of Heathrow international airport. I love airports. They’re among some of my favourite high traffic facilities in the country. Despite the tube fiasco, I still have time for a quick lunch. But before that, I must identify my gate. This allows me to get there quick if lunch runs long.

Ideally I would walk the entire terminal, evaluating the menus at every restaurant before making a final decision on where to eat. This is one of the advantages of traveling solo. If I was with others, one of the biggest deciding factors would most likely be proximity. Personally I’d rather trade some calories (walking) for some tastier calories (good food). I find a pub style restaurant and order the Fish ‘n Chips. That fact that I could have probably gone to any of the restaurants and ordered this is beside the point. As it turned out, the joke is on you (if you indeed said that in the last sentence). It was one of the best Fish ‘n Chips I’ve ever eaten, even rivalling Mario’s in Leicester. It was also a perfect meal choice for the airport, as the soft nature of the food ideally suited the post security blunt cutlery. It's comforting to dine with the knowledge that there’s a very low chance of a mad man randomly attacking you with a knife.

On the plane

I found my seat, 35K, and sat down and waited for flight BA0269 to Los Angeles to take off. This Boeing 747 jet would take 11 hours. Yes that’s right; I still have a record of all the travel details. Don’t believe me? Here’s the booking reference: YQN26S. Why do you keep all that stuff? (My wife might ask). Look who’s laughing now. I’m using the information 14 years later. 

Always keep your boarding passes, in case you write a blog in the future

The man in 34K (just in front) has put his seat back. I wonder if he knows how annoying he is. (©2006 New York Trip). I picked a window seat as I always do. I don’t know if I would enjoy flying without a window. It’s the only thing that makes it bearable. I don’t remember how I passed the time, but I didn’t sleep. I never sleep.

I gave the landing 7 out of 10. I always rate the landings, based on the size of the bump when the wheels hit the ground. As always, people were taking forever to get off the plane. Why on an 11 hour flight do you not have all your possessions together when the doors open? The first thing I remember seeing was the sunset and the palm trees and then the way the night seemed to turn the colour of Orangeade. I had arrived in Los Angeles.

Customs

It’s an interesting fact that my suitcase is older than me. I’m in better condition though. Its orange leather and I feel superior over all the other passengers at the baggage claim, with their black suitcases, prodding and poking trying to identify which one is theirs. I’m standing with my legs crossed and one arm on the wall, watching from a far. As soon as I see the distinctive flash of orange appear from over the horizon of the conveyor, I swoop in, in one swift motion, pick up my case and head for the exit. I'm smart. I’m so smart.

Got stopped by customs. Probably for my shifty actions at the baggage claim and/or for owning an orange suit case. He asked me some difficult questions like who are you staying with? (Kelly), how do you know them? (Internet), what is their job? (Um... music?). That last one was a total guess. This made me realize how little I knew about my state-side friends. I had met everyone before, when they visited London, but we mostly talked about music and to my recollection, the subject of careers had not come up.

He let me go and I walked through to arrivals to meet Kelly. I was disappointed that she didn’t have a large sign with my name on it. I asked and she did in fact work in music. Not that the guy had bothered to check. I remember she had a cool car and quickly noticed that Kelly seemed a lot more American in her natural habitat.

Culver City

Kelly had to work this morning, so I got to explore Los Angeles, or more specifically, Culver City on my own. I find the equivalent of a corner shop and fill up on Mountain Dew. I'm on my exploratory walk now. I walk up to Culver City Park which is situated on a hill. Lots of people are sitting in the passenger seat looking out over the view. What happened to all the drivers? Where did they go? I note there are lots of palm trees everywhere. It’s quite surreal to think how far away I am from home.

On my way back down the hill I cross the road and nearly get run over because I’m looking the wrong direction. I remember that people here drive on the right side of the road.

Aha! I just figured out what happened to all the drivers.

Kellys Home

Note the lack of apostrophe. This is not a section about Kelly’s home, rather, Kelly just got home. We’re watching Matlock on her giant back projection television. Her living room is of average size but too small for a screen this large. Using a screen size distance calculate, I recon we’re sitting 2.4 meters too close. We're watching a great episode of Matlock though. He solved the case by noticing a chair had moved, as it wasn’t faded from the sun like the other one. You had to be there. That was the first episode I ever watched and I’ve not seen it since, but I still remember the theme music.

Hollywood

After a small drive we’re at Hollywood boulevard. It’s so strange living so close to such a famous place. I’ve seen this street so many times before on television and now I’m standing here looking at all the names in the pavement. Where I live, the kinds of messages you’ll see written in the concrete are along the lines of “wanker” and “tosser” not Bruce Willis and Arnold Schwarzenegger.  

Clockwise from top-left: Bruce Willis’ handprints, Arnold Schwarzenegger’s handprints, My visit to the Hollywood Hills, The Troubadour in West Hollywood

We drive up into the Hollywood Hills. Hollywood is so much more than 9 letters on a hill, but I still want to see them. In my mind I was thinking we’d go right up to them and I could get my photo taken next to the “H”, but Kelly explains that this would not be possible. We get as close as we can. Kelly points out David Duchovny’s house and we drive back via Beverly Hills and along Sunset Boulevard as the sun goes down over Santa Monica Boulevard. It’s weird that all these famous streets are just normal streets with normal cars driving on them.

Tonight we're going to the Troubadour. I recognize the venue from My “Songs for the Deaf” album which came with a bonus DVD featuring the band playing "No One Knows" live at the Troubadour. Extra special because Dave Grohl was on drums.

Universal Studios

Kelly had to work today, so she dropped me off at Universal Studios. I don't mind exploring the park by myself, as like the airport post flight dining decision, I know I’m going to enjoy this experience solo. I’ll be able to work my way around the park in a logical order rather than bouncing around like a pinball, which tends to happen when you go to these places in a large group. Inevitably someone always needs to use the toilet or get their photo taken in one of those pictures you put your head in. On my own, I’ll be systematically visiting each ride in each section, crossing it off the list and moving on. I did however break protocol by going on the "The Mummy Returns 2" ride three times in a row.

Not sure what’s up there, but there’s a section of the park up on a hill. As I take the escalator up the hill I see frequent warnings about the many dangers of the "Starway". I’m intrigued and excited to see what this ride could possibly be. In my experience the more warnings, the better the ride is. When I get to the top of the escalator there's a huge disappointment. The sign reads. “Thank you for riding the Starway”.

Clockwise from top-left: Universal Studios entrance, The “Back to the Future” DeLorean, The Starway, The Bates motel

As I walk around the park I’m frequently stopped by Japanese tourists who are asking me to take their photograph. Glad I decided to go back for my charger, because I don't know the Japanese for "Sorry, I left my camera charger on my bedside table."

After work, Kelly picked me up and we drove to the airport to pick up our friend Yaz, who was flying in from Mexico. For dinner, we ate at a place called Jerry’s Deli. Two things blew my mind at Jerry’s Deli. One; the menu was about 20 pages long. Two; this place was open 24 hours a day. I wondered if perhaps these two things went hand in hand. I don’t remember what I ordered and for some reason I didn’t keep the receipt.

California Beaches

I looked at the map and suggested a trip to Long beach. I'm very familiar with the streets of Long Beach, having raced around them many times as a teenager. I remember I once had a big crash coming out of turn 8 as Eddie Cheever pushed me off into the Aramco barrier. Yes, I loved playing the 1993 racing simulator PC game, IndyCar Racing.

We had lunch at a place called Yard House. Two things blew my mind at Yard House. One; There were 150 different types of beer on the menu. Two; A couple at the bar were drinking bottles of Bud.

World’s largest selection of draft beer (including Budweiser)

Later that day we went to a different beach. Venice Beach, which I described as a cross between the Bahamas and Camden Town. I spot a guy busking on the beach, playing a set of drums, just facing out into the ocean. 

Palm Springs

The music festival starts tomorrow, so this morning we’re driving out to the desert resort city of Palm Springs in the Coachella Valley. I'm very excited as this is my first American road trip. We'll be staying in a house that is rented out to festival goers during this period.

Before we go too far, we stop to pick up Kelly’s friend Andrea, who also lives in L.A. Next we stop at the shop to pick up some factor 45 suntan lotion for me. I’m definitely going to need it. Lastly we also grab some ingredients for a new cocktail idea I’m planning on concocting this evening. Now we can start the drive. The only other stop we make along the way is at Starbucks. And the only reason I mention that is the guy who served us, Bob, managed to plant his presence in my head forever because as we left he said "good luck on your future endeavours”. Bob from Starbucks, if you're reading this, thanks!

Clockwise from top-left: Driving through the desert, Cocktail ingredients, Palm Springs photo-shoot, Our festival accommodation

Shit! This house is amazing. I love it. We arrive at the house and look around. The desert sun is beating down and there's a pool just waiting to be jumped in. There are palm trees all around me and mountains looming in the background. I've never experienced anything like this before.

Evening is upon us and it's time to unveil my new cocktail, “Mountain Goose”. I don’t remember all the ingredients, but it's basically Grey Goose vodka and Mountain Dew. We’re floating in the pool drinking “cocktails” and looking up at the stars. I can't help but compare the differences to the night before the "Leeds festival" when a bunch of chavs were fighting with the riot police while I tried to sleep in a cold tent as the rain pissed down.

Coachella Festival

I woke up to the sound of Miriam playing guitar. She’s driven through the night from San Francisco to join us. Our group of 5 was now complete. Like the others, I met Miriam on the Graham Coxon forum but we’re both super Radiohead fans and spend most of our time discussing the band. She brought two guitars with her so we spend the morning playing Radioheads back catalogue.

We arrive at Coachella. It looks super relaxed. We sit on the grass and watch the bands play to the backdrop of palm trees and mountains instead of what I’m used to; portable toilets. A strange thing though. In order to consume alcohol you have to sit inside what I call the beer cage. The beer cage is a chain link fence surrounding the stall that sells beer. You have to consume your beer within the cage, which in my opinion, is a really stupid and annoying rule for a music festival to enforce.

It’s cooled down to 94°F. I’m mostly drinking frozen lemonade to handle the heat and avoid the beer cage. Once the sun goes down the temperature is just perfect. We really enjoyed Deerhoof today and Franz Ferdinand are also a highlight. I'm not sure why, but I brought a white tie with me and have had it in my pocket all day. As Franz Ferdinand take the stage I try to tie a half-Windsor while in the mosh pit.

Guess the Radiohead song

It's day two of the festival and somehow it’s even hotter than yesterday. I’m playing “guess the Radiohead tune” with Miriam, on the way to Coachella. After arriving we sit on the grass and watch the Magic Numbers.

Kelly’s off to the “Merch Booth”. This American phrase cracks me up. I’m trying to think what we call it in England; the T-shirt stand? She uses her music connections to gain VIP wristbands. Inside the VIP enclosure there’s an array of people sitting on sofas with laptops. 

Clockwise from top-left: First day at Cochella, Yaz and Mir dance, Post Art Brut group photo, Cochella at night

Before we know it we're off to see the last band of the festival; Art Brut. They play an outstanding set. I always forgot the drummer stands up while playing. Remarkable. It’s quite hard to sing-a-long though, as they tend to change the lyrics around when playing live. It's surprising how popular they are considering they’re just a small band from England.

The day ends back at the house with beer and pizza in the pool.

The end of the saga

Today we leave Palm Springs and drive back to L.A. I notice that Miriam drives very politely compared to Kelly, but then, she isn’t from L.A. We dropped off Andrea and were down to four. Back at Kelly’s house we played more Radiohead songs on guitar. I did more listening than playing, as Miriam is probably twice as good as me. 

Anyone can play guitar

We went out for dinner and then said our farewells to Miriam as it was time for her to drive back to San Francisco. We’re down to three.

We have a little time to kill before Yaz’s flight back to Mexico. We’re watching some funny programme on Spanish Television. I don’t think it’s supposed to be as funny as it is to us. We say bon voyage (good voyage) to Yaz at the airport and now we’re down to two. Not including Homer. It’s the last day of my trip and it looks like Homer isn't scared of me anymore. I think it’s safe to say I’m not scared of him either; as long as he stays on his side of the room. (I should have mentioned that Kelly has a cat called Homer.)

Kelly is driving me to the airport but we stop for lunch en route (on route) (on the way). There are only two types of beer on the menu; Bud and Bud Lite. So I remain sober as we head to the airport gate. I was hoping that the alcohol would help me fall asleep on this long overnight flight. But this is a British Airways flight so I know they’ll be a complimentary beer after takeoff and I can also choose to have wine with my meal at no extra cost. All goes to plan and as I take my last sip of wine the cabin lights go down low and I lay back and think about my trip.

Like the penultimate syllable of a Solfège or simply the French word for “The”, L.A. the city, now has a place in my mind. Before this trip, everything I knew about the city was from watching American television shows. Now I feel so much more enlightened. For example, at no point did I see loads of police cars all crashing into each other and piling up.

I awoke on the plane. (That remains to this day the only time I have successfully slept on a plane.) It was a good approach but a little bumpy, I gave the landing 6/10.

Generally speaking, arriving back home from an exotic destination, is considered a negative. Back to work, back to the rain, back to everyday life. But I live (lived) in London and as flight BA0282 is slowly taxiing up to gate 22, I'm excited to arrive back in London and start my future endeavours.