Inter-web-net: the end of civilization

OH, California. 




I feel very naughty about not keeping our public up-to-date on the goings on of  our transient selves. The truth is, we left civilization.  Any who consider their computer to be the (better) extension of themselves would indeed despair to hear we were without Internet for the past week and a half, and I would hesitate to bring up such a painful premise unless it were necessary to explain our tardiness in communication.

Since last we updated, we have walked on many new surfaces: sand, shells, train tracks, rich forest loam, and highway asphalt.  Bethany's feet were so raw she ended up hiking a 7% grade and one 15 mile trek in her flip-flops. 

    To the beautiful and densely populated Los Angeles we trotted, where we caught two trains and two buses to skip the less savory areas for backpackers. We stayed in a hostel at Hermosa Beach, where a live reggae band jammed to all hours in the club beneath our room. They were fantastic and we enjoyed the cultural experience, even in our sleep.  Hostels are really interesting meeting places, and I am consistently amazed at the diverse digs and clientele that frequent them. The first hostel we stayed in San Diego was so posh! Hammocks swung in the back patio, where ping pong and potted plants coexisted peacefully. The communal kitchen was well stocked and clean with polite guests tiptoeing around speaking in hushed and respectful tones, like a library or a church. Reuben also wants to mention the solid marble counter tops, and spiffy tile throughout. They had a separate sound proof room with a huge flat screen for movies/tv watching, and the rest was divided into chill hangout nooks. Hermosa beach hostel was a little more surfer punk with some European flair. A thick Parisian accent gave us directions to the front door, which was really the backdoor to a happenin club. Upstairs were three floors of bunk beds, tiny bathrooms and one very small kitchen. The unifying presence of the strangest murals decorated the halls with diverse themes; superheros, the xmen, some new zealand maori with volcanoes exploding in the background and of course, Mickey Mouse.

 Now, Venice Beach Hostel was pure punk rock bachelor pad complete with beer in the vending machine, a van permanently parked in the basement, and Tinkerbell sheets. One bathroom with no door handle made showering a trifle difficult with people coming in and out of the bathroom to use the toilet. Bethany forgot to barricade the door with a chair first!  Reuben and Bethany both were intrigued by the potential and details of this arts and crafts style house, and thought it sad the level of disrepair and dirt! Oh, our hostel would be beautiful!

Strolling through the famous Venice Beach was a trifle disappointing as we had been warned about dangerous characters, wackos, weirdos, all the people who had slipped though the cracks of society and finally found a city to run wild in. We were all prepared with jujitsu moves and ninja gear but our biggest threat was drowsiness. 

The frame in Reuben's backpack broke and the company overnighted a new one to a FedEx in Santa Monica for free. It was fun to see all we were carrying spread out in the middle of the city while Reuben struggled to put the new frame in!