I love the fact that some of the greatest pleasures in life are the most basic ones. We all have these moments I am sure (if not you need to find some!), when you find yourself really enjoying a small, insignificant moment in time. For me it is usually when I am interacting with others (no witty remarks please... this is a spiritual moment in my writing ;-) ). During my travels so far I have had this with my great buddy Paul, my host in New York, with whom I seemed to have a strong mental connection (sound fair to you Mr P?).
So at 4pm, having just woken up I am sitting on the narrow strip of porch at the front of the villa that faces out onto a small patch of lush grass and little more than a barren, dusty bank of the mountain we are on. As usual I am accompanying the smoker who is sneakily enjoying the cancer stick he has in his hand. I have never touched a cigarette and yet I always enjoy going out with the smokers to keep them company! Don and I both have a coffee and there is complete silence in the air, save the odd light gust of dry desert heat. And we chatted. It is as simple as that. And yet it was a really enjoyable experience... after all you can spend as much time as you want going out socialising with people but you rarely get to see what really shapes them and makes them tick unless you are in the right place at the right time. It is SO good to talk. Right?!
Yes... I believe that I noted that I had just woken up at four o'clock? Well having returned to the villa at 4am after our bout of dancing in Hollywood the night before we of course felt obliged to carry the party on. So for the second time this week we had a REAL LA CHILL OUT in the first floor sitting room. The music crept through all sorts of genres.... and the conversation was just as diverse. And yet, when the discussion turned to the similarites between Spanish and Portugese dialect my body gave up the fight... NO MORE! Teddy bed-time....
But wait! That was not the end of it.... everybody knows that a big night out has be followed by another night out. So shortly after six o'clock the three of us had bundled into the Dodge and were headed for Silverlake in Los Angeles. THE FALCON. My O my... what can I say about this gem of a bar? Not too much that is for sure. Not since The Eagle in New York have I seen such sights. The Sunday afternoon bash is called the 'Beerfest' as it is at The Eagle. Half of the space is an open-air terrace and it is packed with people... and I only spotted one girl. Brave! tattoos, piercings.... you name it and it was most probably there. Our group stood out for looking quite civilised, respectable and dare I say it.... good looking?! Several large drinks later and we were having a whale of a time... and before I knew it I had been whisked off in a flurry of stupidity into a McDonalds.
McDONALDS!! ME! Can you believe it? That is the first time in about eight years I have eaten a McDonalds burger.... I am disgusted with myself. I have given in to the American junktastication. Ooh....what do the apple pies taste like these days I wonder......
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