Trip Start Feb 01, 2009
79Trip End May 07, 2009
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The first drama of the morning was when we went into the lobby to use the internet to get instructions to get to where the campervan was by public transport because a taxi would have cost a fortune.
We were standing in reception where the computers were and I had finally got the website to work so that we got instructions to at least get to the right town.
A man was waiting behind us to use the internet. I just stepped away for a second to ask if there was a printer or to get something to write the instructions down on when the man that had been waiting hissed to me 'Are you finished with that?'
To which I replied 'No'.
He then , for some bizarre reason went into a foul-mouthed tirade about the computer only being for printing departure tickets or something and that he has had to wait (for about 5 minutes) because Hattie was 'chatting' on Facebook.
He kept offering us outside to see what we were made of (I thought only 5 year-olds did it over something so petty), at which point the hotel security stepped in.
He started inventing some cock-and-bull story that we'd that he'd asked nicely and we'd done something. All he had to do was be polite but that seemed above him. All the while, his wife and child were stood there watching, when security walked him away, his wife apologised for him.
As we were checking out the recption was full of people. We found out that there was a convention of some sort for Playboy Golf and several Playboy Bunny Girls were milling around reception, compete with bleach blode hair, blouse balloons and a lot of pink!
Once we checked out, we went to the underground station to get to the underground hub in LA. We got two stops from the transfer station and got an announcement that there was, then wasn't, then may have been a fire between there and the next station and we were to get off and use surface transport.
As we'd just lugged our baggage to the top of the stairs, there was an announcement that we could get back on the train, and that it was pulling off. So we gave up and had a drink.
We then went back down to catch the next train, and a black man was shouting on the station about something like his girlfriend had cheated on him with his cousin, and he should just shoot himself in the chest or jump under the next train (he'd be lucky), so we left and tried to catch the next bus to the transfer station. We must have heard the N-word 100 times in less than 2 minutes (I swear that you'd have heard it less at a KKK meeting).
We asked the drive to drop us off as close to the hub as possible but he directed us to the station that was next down the line.
Once we got to the transfer station, we got on the train south towards where the campervan was.
We must have travelled through every place referenced in Dr Dre's 'The Next Episode'. We went through South Central, Compton, Inglewood and Long Beach. My God that was fun. On the train, Hattie had a girl pole-dancing next to where she was sat.
We then caught to bus to Carson town centre, and two women tried to help us find where we needed to be (they pointed us to another bus stop which wouldn't have got us much closer). After about 3 hours to do a 1½ hr journey, we thought F*ck this and got a taxi for the last 2 miles or whatever (thieving bastard, it cost us $15).
Then we finally got to the rental place to find that our RV wasn't ready and would be another hour.
Talk about a traumatic day, especially because we left the rental site at about 5pm and arrived at our first campsite at 9pm.
By which time, I needed a drink!