Mobile communications have certainly solved many missing person's cases. Walking outside of the West Paintings building of the Getty Museum we paused a moment to gather our thoughts and prepare the next path. To our right a middle aged man on his mobile phone in the sun beside a pot plant, "I'm right here where we entered, where are you?" We couldn't help but overhear, "I'm beside the pot plant, you said this is where we should meet." We organise our hat and sunglasses and prepared to head across to view some more of Getty's European artworks. "I can't see you and I'm where you said to be so that's not my fault." We walked away.
The Getty Museum in it's creative architecture has a viewing vantage point of the hazy Los Angeles at every turn. An overwhelming exercise of acquired artwork over the years from vast oil wealth. Free entry is a bonus so we do recommend it. Particularly on a 36 degree celsius day for it's airconditioning.
Speaking of which, the public transport system left us thoroughly entertained. Constant sites of a wonderful city in airconditioning and wifi! With a regular day pass we had enough time to continue checking routes and hopping off and on again for a new suburb to explore. There were a few times when passengers would board without a ticket and instead resort to coins. Alas the machine sitting alongside the driver must prefer passes to be tapped instead of coin deposits as too often a coin would jam, the bus drivers right arm would thrust out and crash into the box, enough for a wedged coin to jiggle further down and register a passenger entry. A pattern we enjoyed watching out of sheer curiosity if it was in fact every time, and if so, maybe an arm guard would be a useful purchase.
To keep this diary a little more succinct, we'll round out with a delightful snack towards the end of the day. Taking a brief stroll through Westwood, we happened across a Farmer's Market which appeared to be more retail orchestrated than true farmer representation. Either way, noticing ourselves becoming a little tired, we overheard an accented cry of 'Hot Tamale'. It wasn't until our tummies turned us around and we walked back to acquire for $3.50 a Pork Hot Tamale with mild salsa. When we were handed a very small paper napkin with a dolop of rice and pork with a fork stuck in the top, no bigger than an Australian 50c piece, we felt we'd been duped. A moment's stare at each other and another 'what have we done' looks, before they actually handed over a much nicer American sized portion of polenta and pork wrapped in corn leaves. We responded with four dollars to which they replied, 'Thank You', and sat back down. We recalled, no one gives change in America.
The Tamale was just what we needed, enough sustenance for us to make it home for our beers and dinner. Another warm day of activities but enjoyable for both.
The Getty Museum in it's creative architecture has a viewing vantage point of the hazy Los Angeles at every turn. An overwhelming exercise of acquired artwork over the years from vast oil wealth. Free entry is a bonus so we do recommend it. Particularly on a 36 degree celsius day for it's airconditioning.
Speaking of which, the public transport system left us thoroughly entertained. Constant sites of a wonderful city in airconditioning and wifi! With a regular day pass we had enough time to continue checking routes and hopping off and on again for a new suburb to explore. There were a few times when passengers would board without a ticket and instead resort to coins. Alas the machine sitting alongside the driver must prefer passes to be tapped instead of coin deposits as too often a coin would jam, the bus drivers right arm would thrust out and crash into the box, enough for a wedged coin to jiggle further down and register a passenger entry. A pattern we enjoyed watching out of sheer curiosity if it was in fact every time, and if so, maybe an arm guard would be a useful purchase.
To keep this diary a little more succinct, we'll round out with a delightful snack towards the end of the day. Taking a brief stroll through Westwood, we happened across a Farmer's Market which appeared to be more retail orchestrated than true farmer representation. Either way, noticing ourselves becoming a little tired, we overheard an accented cry of 'Hot Tamale'. It wasn't until our tummies turned us around and we walked back to acquire for $3.50 a Pork Hot Tamale with mild salsa. When we were handed a very small paper napkin with a dolop of rice and pork with a fork stuck in the top, no bigger than an Australian 50c piece, we felt we'd been duped. A moment's stare at each other and another 'what have we done' looks, before they actually handed over a much nicer American sized portion of polenta and pork wrapped in corn leaves. We responded with four dollars to which they replied, 'Thank You', and sat back down. We recalled, no one gives change in America.
The Tamale was just what we needed, enough sustenance for us to make it home for our beers and dinner. Another warm day of activities but enjoyable for both.
great photos, many thanks, what an amazing experience.
ReplyDeleteWhat a restful space up in the hills.
ReplyDeleteMuch easier to read now, thanks so much....
ReplyDeletewe googled a what tamale is, yum...
ReplyDelete-pia