I’m not one to brag but no-one had a better time than me this weekend.
One of the marvellous aspects of living in LA is that you generally get a lot of people passing through. Unfortunately, this year’s been light on visitors (another symptom of the global recession?) so I was delighted when my friend Adam stopped-over on his way from Sydney to Miami.
We used to work together in London and it’s been almost two years since we spent quality time in each other’s company. I scooped him up from the airport on Friday night and knowing him as I do, headed straight to the 3rd Street Promenade in Santa Monica, for a shopping frenzy.
From what I can tell, decent clothes shops are thin on the ground in Australia and I was right - he was itching to have a supermarket sweep around Urban Outfitters. We were in there so long, they offered us bed and board.
We hit a few more shops and ended up having a steak and Guinness pie and a pint in The King’s Head, an English pub. I’ve only eaten there once before but I realised this time that it’s my equivalent of Disney. A theme park if you will but one with malt vinegar on the tables and cottage pie on the menu.
Saturday was busy (breakfast in Los Feliz, more shopping, only this time I dropped Adam off and went back home to do some writing) and in the evening we attended a BAFTA screening.
I can’t tell you what the film was as I’m sworn to secrecy (all I can say is that you should really see it – ha!) but a curious thing happened. As we were pulling into the car park, Adam yelled directly into my ear ‘Josh!’ and the man walking past us turned around (while my ear bled to death), and waved back at Adam.
Josh, an Australian, was getting his bearings having just arrived in LA after finishing a long run playing the older Billy, in Billy Elliot on Broadway. Adam knows Josh from Sydney. Everyone was happy!
Sunday we decided to visit the Getty Museum. I haven’t been there since my recce trip to LA back in March 2006. It’s such a beautiful place and feels like a bona fide culture blanket. I just want to wrap it around me. I sat in one of the galleries gazing upon a Rembrandt, happy and serene.
I also enjoyed Irving Penn’s Small Trades photography exhibition (research reveals that this multi-talented artist died only last month). With those stark photographs, he captured a precious humanity on the faces of people who do ordinary jobs. It was fascinating.
We took pictures of everything including the water features (you can see Adam going for the low angle in the picture above) and then wandered through the gardens. For the detail obsessed, yes he does have a Crouch End shopping bag on his shoulder.
Post culture, we headed over to what is possibly the gayest bar in West Hollywood, The Abbey for some late lunch. Much hilarity ensued, wine was drunk and we also notched up another star spot (Lance Bass, one fifth of erstwhile boy-band ‘N Sync).
And so I write this having just got back from a scarily busy pre-Thanksgiving LAX, sitting mere inches from a mournful pile of bedding that needs to be thrown into the wash.
After an unusually tough month Adam’s visit couldn’t have been better timed. It really was as good as it gets.
