Pulling away from LAX airport in our rental car, I thought, Hollywood, I’ve arrived.
Down below, downtown Los Angeles is full of the hustle and bustle that only the mecca of fame could bring. On Hollywood Boulevard, tourists rush towards me on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. I bump into street performers, monks, and a Captain Jack Sparrow lookalike. 2,400 personalities are honored in the pavements, which stretches 15 blocks along Hollywood Boulevard.
A short drive away is Venice Beach, which has a vibe entirely of its own. It’s 9am yet but the time I pull into the beach parking lot, the early morning surfers are already on their way own. The weather warms up quickly with the sun over the yellow sand. Muscle shirts and short shorts on skateboard whiz by me on the boardwalk. I feel like I’m living an episode of Jersey Shore, it’s no wonder they call it Muscle Beach.
In search of different vibes, we drive along the California coast out to Malibu, but not before passing the Santa Monica Pier, where we stop for a bite on the boardwalk. Along the way to Malibu, I spot more surfers are out catching waves and beach babes working on their tan.
Oh SoCal.
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