A Transparent Eye: Saint Diego and the Lost Angels

Since departing Seattle two weeks prior, our final destination had always been San Diego - the Southernmost point of our journey and to reach it meant a fully completed Pacific Coast crossing from the North to South. So after almost 20 day's on the road, it was with deep satisfaction that we arrived via the traffic jammed I5 highway into the San Diego metropole. Our abode was to be a site within a massive RV resort within the San Diego Bay complete with private beach, restaurants and pools as well as every size and shape RV one can imagine. It was an eye-opening experience and although beautiful and with every amenity, the patrons within were not altogether unlike those found within the plethora of caravan parks dotted along the South African South coast around Christmas/Easter time. Nevertheless San Diego was to unanimously be one of our most favoured stops with a memorable downtown centre complimented with miles and miles of beach, cafe's and bars. Perhaps the most relaxing of all the big cities we explored, San Diego felt very much like Durban; slightly grungy, perhaps not as aesthetically beautiful as San Francisco but a friendly, warm and tropical atmosphere that we all could relate to. The ocean is warm too! We also managed to fit in a night out on the town, frequenting a few pubs and clubs with some live music and 'interesting' dance floor shenanigans. From San Diego, it was a quick trip back up to L.A for 1 night to drop off the RV. For now, We were roped into a bus tour around Beverly Hills etc. We saw people excitedly taking photo's of Hugh Hefner's mansion gate, David Beckhams's post box and Michael Jackson's garage door (all obstructed by huge hedges). We were shown hotels where (supposedly famous celebrities died). We parked in front of famous peoples cars and told to take photos. We were encouraged to photograph rodeo drive fashion boutique shops. Needless to say, without doubt the most bizarre afternoon of our trip. The concept of fame and the ideal that the place sells is so disturbing.

The following day we caught the train to Long Beach. Unbeknown to us, the route takes you via the notorious Compton with tattooed gangsters (no lies - most harrowing 57 minutes of our life). Our train was stopped halfway through the ghettos' for a drug bust and we were hustled across to another train as the police cracked down. The whole experience as straight out of a L.A.P.D crime movie. We were glad to have come out unscathed. And it was in LA that we had to part with our beloved 'H'Arby' our home on the road for the past month. It was nostalgic and emotional, especially when we had to flog off our bikes for $10 each and give away duvets and food to vagrants outside a strip mall.