The day ended here in the Hyatt Regency room 758 in the North Tower, with us tired out, mostly packed, and in bed. Sleep was broken by the usual is-it-time-to-get-up-and-fly worry. Including tomorrow, the trip has been 14 days in California, in Orange County.
We ended the trip on a strange note. Pete, our Uber driver from the La Brea area, offered us mints, water, and changes to the AC for the long journey across LA back to OC. The price to the La Brea Tar Pits was about $60, but with the adjustment for rush hour, our trip back was around $100, as we waited until 7 before ordering a ride in the Uber app. We had to pack, and we were both getting tired. Eventually, we took the first trip for $100 (with some offers for an early time approaching $200).
We walked to The Grove (and discovered that The Farmer’s Market was also there) from the La Brea Tar Pits, as it promised dinner, shopping, a possible movie, and a place to rest. LA is often like one long set of strip malls that never seem to stop. The barred windows and closed shops are frequently mixed with other shops that look excellent. In the Uber we took, we saw that Beverly Boulevard and La Brea Avenue were the end of an interesting neighborhood, featuring food joints and many Jewish services. I may need to take a winter trip and explore this area.
The Farmer’s Market was wonderful, located near The Grove, a high-end mall that seems to appear unexpectedly between lesser strip malls, and featured live music and excellent food. We walked the Market until after getting a more industrial dinner/snack at a higher-end restaurant, sticking primarily to Happy Hour items. Unlike Seattle or Portland, this one was open until 9 at night on work nights. Here is the website: Farmer’s Market Website.
Deborah’s phone was slowly dying. We switched to mine for maps. We walked for about an hour from the La Brea Tar Pits to The Grove and Farmer’s Market. We stopped by Craft Contemporary on our walk to visit their gift shop. We also enjoyed some of the LA County Museum of Art’s outdoor pieces (it was getting too late to get a ticket for LACMA).
Before all this, we took a cheaper Uber (the driver did not speak much English) for the seventy-minute trip to La Brea Tar Pits. It was a comfortable ride, but we initially did not spot the car at the hotel, and then we saw a car just waiting (it went from three minutes to there in seconds on the app). We arrived in the La Brea area, crossing from Orange County to Los Angeles. While traveling, we noticed a considerable amount of smoke in downtown LA, and we later learned it was not protests but a local fire. Getting out of the car, we immediately noticed the billboards for Smerfs and the smell of tar. I am not sure how they are connected.
The stuff is, as advertised, oozing out of the ground, and when we walked over some of the grass, it had a spongy feeling that got us to remain on the paths. There were also signs to keep your pets leashed, which in this area was a good idea. The owner and pet could become part of a permanent exhibit!
We were walking in one area, and a stake used to close off the area, which resembled a rain ditch, had the black substance come out of the ground. It would not be a place I would want to tread. There were also multiple pits of the black stuff and a lake of groundwater pooled over the sticky stuff. There were some models of mammoths stuck in the tar to add to the drama. It all smelled of petroleum and worse.
The museum is a collection of bones reassembled and descriptions of all the now-extinct animals that once roamed the area. The sabertoothed cat, a tiger, and giant elephants were reassembled and even modeled in life-like reconstructions. Even insects, fish, and birds fell to the stickiness.
There was a colossal skull, tusks, and the staff in a lab washing and cleaning more of the elephant-like bones. Wow! I got some postcards and a book on the history of the area. It was all interesting. I have always wanted to see this place where the goo pops out of the ground.
Once we had enjoyed enough of the bones, goo, and looking at the pits, we discovered a Mexican place nearby. There we had some chips and a few drinks. We rested for a bit, and the bartenders were friendly.
And from there we headed to The Grove, not knowing the Farmer’s Market was in the same area. That closes the circle. Thanks for reading!
Headed home on Friday. Deborah is flying back to the Detroit area, and I am headed to Beaverton, Oregon.
Joyce Hill, Susie’s aunt and the supplier of Zabar’s bagels to me all these years, passed away unexpectedly, and I will be heading to celebrate her life next week. When I write this blog, I always think of her reading it and all the fun comments she would make. I will miss her!
Alohawild (Michael Wild's) Website 