This is: Planes, Trains & Automobiles (2011/12)
I implore my fellow-Britons: Please, |
Desist from saying 'Los Angeleeze'! |
Those angels would smile on an annus mirabilis |
If only you'd try to say simply 'Los Angeles'. |
Downtown Los Angeles
I seem to remember waking up some time after 8am. It was obvious from even a cursory glance that it was a beautiful, clear, sunny morning with eerily deserted streets down below. We bought a light breakfast from a coffee shop in the lobby, got ourselves organised and set out on the short walk to Pershing Square to join a walking tour that we had pre-booked with the Los Angeles Conservancy, a non-profit organisation set up to recognise, preserve and revitalise LA's historic architecture. Despite these noble aims, we both thought that we might be the only two people booked on the tour. We couldn't have been more wrong: numerous tours were on offer and our Historic Downtown tour alone had enough bookings to justify three separate groups! There were two other international members of our group - by coincidence, a young couple from Glasgow.
We spent the next two-and-a-half hours on an easy and comfortable walk around the Historic Downtown area, in gloriously warm and sunny conditions. Buildings visited included the City National Bank, the Pacific Center, the Biltmore Hotel, the Central Library, One Bunker Hill, the Bradbury Building, the Million Dollar Theatre and Grand Central Market. We learned the differences between the Beaux-Arts and Art Deco styles and the history of the area was brought to life by our guide. We were also lucky enough to be able to visit the interior of a few of these landmark buildings. We even discovered the location of part of LA's original and long-abandoned subway.
We walked back to the Westin Bonaventure feeling well satisfied. The picture-taking wasn't over yet: I couldn't resist recording a few more memories along the way and we both took the opportunity to get some photos of the hotel upon our return.
It then seemed like a good idea to rest for a bit before the next phase of the trip got underway around 4pm, in a pattern repeating that of the previous day. As I chilled out back in the room and relived the morning's events, I couldn't help recalling my first visit to Los Angeles in 1985. I clearly remembered reading that LA was unlike any other city in that it was simply a vast urban sprawl with no recognisable centre. What nonsense! Of course in those days, the downtown area was run down and definitely not tourist-friendly, but that struck me as poor justification for denying its existence. The sprawl clearly had to have started from somewhere and I felt very happy to have experienced something of the modern renaissance of Downtown Los Angeles.
The Southwest Chief
An excellent feature was that we had our own private toilet compartment, complete with sink and shower - more of this tomorrow! The attendant made a 'welcome' announcement, which was noteworthy in that it involved an astonishing litany of highly prescriptive and somewhat paternalistic instructions about how things got done on board. While I'm sure that much of it would have been written by Amtrak, there were at least a couple of references along the lines of: "... and on my train, that means ..."! We made a dinner reservation for 8:30pm and, once the tickets had been checked, went to the sight-seeing car for cocktails. Of course at this time of night there was no sight-seeing to be had as such, but at least it was possible to see outside with the low level of internal lighting. We returned to our cabin for a while before being called for dinner.
We had an enjoyable dinner, sharing the table with a couple. I had a steak for my main course. Bruce had assured me that Amtrak had a good reputation for these and, sure enough, it was cooked exactly to my specification and tasted just right. Given the constraints of preparing and serving food on board a moving train, I was suitably impressed. We then returned to the café car, bought a glass of whisky each as a nightcap and drank these in the sight-seeing car. It seemed an appropriately Scottish thing to do on New Year's Eve.
It was 10:45pm and there was absolutely no sign of life in any of the public cars, let alone any kind of New Year celebration getting started. Almost everybody appeared to be in bed. We returned to our own compartment and found that the attendant had already made it up for sleeping. I took the top bunk and so had to climb up the ladder, taking care not to bump my head against the ceiling. I settled down, fastened the safety strap that was designed to prevent me from rolling out of bed, and was asleep in less than five minutes, happy to leave the transition into 2012 to take care of itself.