Los Angeles/Catalina

We spent our last day in Los Angeles much as before, just hanging at the hotel.  It seems a huge waste, I know - one of the most exciting cities on earth and we barely bothered with it.  

But trust me - LA is not worth it.  It was to us, a mere stopping off point and actually seeing it with our own eyes merely confirmed the fact that it is a soulless, miserable place.  

What we did instead was watch yet more TV.  America is great for unbelievably crappy programmes, and I consider myself a connoisieur of crap as you know.  I saw an advert for one show entitled "Moral Court - Where It Pays To Be Right" advertised as having "The TENSION of the courtroom.  The EMOTION of a chat show.  The EXCITEMENT of a game show!!"  Yes, you actually win money on this program if you convince the judge that your druggie-sister is sleeping with your husband and so forth.  

Then there's the adverts.  Loads and loads and LOADS of lawyers ("If you've injured one of MY clients, I'm coming after YOU.")  

Also bail-bondsmen, which is a bit scary, but our favourite ad of all was Miss Cleo's Psychic Hotline in which people call a Jamaican Clairvoyant while she consults the Tarot, and amusingly becomes less and less Jamaican as the consultation wears on.   A typical Miss Cleo ad goes like this:

MISS CLEO:  (Shuffling cards)  Does ya husband have good legs?
CALLER:        Uh...
MISS CLEO:  There's no need to answer that because I know that he does not.
CALLER:        Oh.
MISS CLEO:  Come now, don' be lyin' to me girl.  Ya know tha way Miss Cleo be doin' business.  I don't know WHY ya be cahlin' me and lyin'!  Now who is this man you know him about 3 months...
CALLER:      Ohhhhh... 
MISS CLEO: Mmmmmm-hmmmmm???
CALLER:      Ha ha ha ha.
MISS CLEO: Oh you be LAUGHIN' now!  You can't lie to Miss Cleo!                  
                        (Miss Cleo turns to the camera)

                        I have seen tha truth of tha Tarot a TOUSAND times!  
                        CAHL ME NOW for your free readin'!!

This ad is on so often that Caro now does a reasonable Jamaican accent.  As for me, I seriously considered calling Miss Cleo, but I knew I wouldn’t be lying.  I KNEW how she be doin' business.

On tearing ourselves away from the telly, we caught a taxi down to Long Beach where The Queen Mary Hotel is anchored and also where you can catch the ferry to Catalina Island.  I had heard of Catalina before, as the place where Natalie Wood tragically drowned, but had no idea what it was like and would never have considered visiting if it hadn’t been for Caro.  She had heard of Catalina as one of the glamourous stops made by the happy, helpful, fictional crew of The Love Boat.  

So, it was thanks to a crappy 1970's tv show and a damp Hollywood actress that I had one of the best times of the holiday so far.  

The ferry ride to Catalina was lovely, over a smooth and glassy sea, with Avalon (Catalina's only big town) appearing in the distance as a picturesque little cluster of buildings on the side of a mountainous island.  On landing, Caro mentioned that the island is famous for its flying fish and we might just see...

BY JOVE!  There they were!  Right in the crystal clear turquoise water!  

They weren't actually FLYING, but the sea was so clear and the day was so bright, you could see them clear as anything.  I was thrilled.  And actually a little relieved, because fish flying is just a bit weird.  I watch a lot of monster films, and would worry that the flying fish might have developed a taste for human flesh.  I’m sure you understand.  

Smile and nod, readers.