On Christmas day, we drove down to Los Angeles, cause there’s nothing else to do and a seven hour road trip sounded like just the thing. The trip down was easy, no one was on the road. Also, our friend John had given us a GPS navigator which turned out to be most amusing since it seemed to be mildly retarded and constantly announced that it was “recalculating” just when I needed to know what direction to turn.
We went up to the Observatory in Griffith Park. I’d never been there before but had always heard what beautiful deco design it was. Quite true.
It was also was freezing and blustery. Not what you think of in southern California.
We also hung out in the groovy Los Feliz neighborhood and had lunch at a lovely French bistro.
And then relocated to Riverside to spend the night at the uber-charming Mission Inn. When were there a year ago, it was quietly deserted. the perfect little nook with the most amazing quirks making up its architecture. This time it was crammed full of Orange County rednecks come to gawk at the lights. The decorations answered the question “What if Santa had a full colonic and exploded his bowels in a burst of Xmas lights?”
Not quite the charming experience we were hoping for.
Then we, along with what appeared to be most of the Bay Area population drove back this evening. I’m tired, but I’m glad we went, it was most amusing.