Back then
though, on arrival at the Greyhound Station, it was like walking onto a set one
of one of the Robocop movies (which
are notably set in a futuristic, dystopian Detroit…), where sketchy and angry
characters lurked. Within seconds a creepy little man desperately and
persistently tried to usher us into some car out back. Our then taxi ride
through Downtown and into West Hollywood was equally eye-opening: Downtown itself
appeared to be a rather intimidating, gang-infested place and beyond it, as we
made for Hollywood, an interchanging landscape of rags to riches; one minute
graffiti-clad roadside and tunnel walls with swarms of homeless people, and the
next, lavish homes that couldn’t be worlds further apart.
This time around though we arrived at LAX Airport, where we were forced straight out onto the streets without any guidance and then greeted with hostility from a shuttlebus driver. Like before we stayed in a hostel on West Hollywood Boulevard, not a twenty-minute walk from the iconic hub where you’ll find the Walk of Fame, the movie theatre that hosts the red carpet premieres and so on, all of which are overlooked by the iconic Hollywood sign up in the Hollywood Hills.
Needless to say, nothing has changed here. The star-studded Walk of Fame – that’s the endless series of paved stars, each for a famous actor, actress, band, musician or fictional character – is as grotty and as ill-kept as ever. Then there are the seedy tattoo parlours and tacky souvenir shops that line the boulevard, along with the intrusive street vendors force-selling tours you don’t want. Then there are of course the homeless and all the sketchy, nerve-racking freaks Hollywood has on offer outside its movies. But note that this is not an attack on the wider LA or even the larger Hollywood which I have not seen – this is merely my observation of Hollywood in particular, and even more particularly, the homeless problem.
In fact, this problem extends far beyond LA and is quite simply staggering to see, but then it’s not really a subject I know too much about, nor am willing to discuss on this blog. But while I’ve wanted to focus mainly on the positive elements of my three-month trip, equally I must be honest about my observations of the places we’ve been. That said, the homelessness in LA seems to pale in comparison to that of our following destination, Seattle.
I’m not entirely sure what we were expecting, but it seemed to be more of a logical destination to close the geographical gap between LA and Vancouver. With that in mind, we still didn’t expect it to be the unremarkable little place it is. In short, to quote TV show Fraser – which is set in Seattle but was actually filmed in LA - the blues really are calling here. Except that’s not a good thing. Seattle is completely infested with homeless people and unsettling characters. Mostly every corner of every block – at least before you head for the much less-terrifying city centre – is crazy person-territory. And they’re not the kind who want help either. They’re the kind who want to stalk you, scream in your face for money and some of them probably a lot worse.
Perhaps it also didn’t help that within minutes of arriving we were put on the backfoot, having spent two hours looking for an apartment building that turned out to be directly opposite the train station we exited, though virtually undetectable with its non-existent building sign, utterly moronic website directions and idiotic landlords who had closed the doors to the public to go out and buy a week’s supply of Red Bull... And while following a self-made trail of breadcrumbs to find this elusive place, Sian was almost preyed upon by a trio of presumably-homeless scumbags after having chosen to stay on a street corner with the luggage.
Even the “tourist hotspots”, such as the harbour, or the inexplicably-overrated Pike Place or the original Starbucks or even the Space Needle, are laughably bad. This post would also be criminally-incomplete without telling you that a homeless woman tried to semi-roundhouse kick Sian at Pike Place market when she evidently entered the freak’s “personal space.” Poor Sian, right?
I won’t spend any longer dwelling though. After all, we found a sanctuary in the form of Regal Theatres Meridian up in the city, where we got our film-binge on and pretended the outside world didn’t exist (it must have been a coincidence that the first film we saw was titled Get out). In fact, this cinema was so awesome that it’s with a heavy heart that we’ll never visit it again. However, it wasn’t that good to justify returning to Shithole – sorry, Seattle. But it was good enough to justify dedicating to it an entire blog post, so keep your eyes peeled for that one which I’ll add soon.
So it wasn’t all bad. We both certainly know how to make the best of a bad situation and above anything, it’s still a story to tell. I guess that, much like Hollywood Boulevard which is just a stone’s throw from the saving grace that is Universal Studios, Seattle is a place where you have to rely on the movies for literal escapism.
Here are some top tips on surviving Seattle, if you're stupid enough to still go after reading this post:-
This time around though we arrived at LAX Airport, where we were forced straight out onto the streets without any guidance and then greeted with hostility from a shuttlebus driver. Like before we stayed in a hostel on West Hollywood Boulevard, not a twenty-minute walk from the iconic hub where you’ll find the Walk of Fame, the movie theatre that hosts the red carpet premieres and so on, all of which are overlooked by the iconic Hollywood sign up in the Hollywood Hills.
Needless to say, nothing has changed here. The star-studded Walk of Fame – that’s the endless series of paved stars, each for a famous actor, actress, band, musician or fictional character – is as grotty and as ill-kept as ever. Then there are the seedy tattoo parlours and tacky souvenir shops that line the boulevard, along with the intrusive street vendors force-selling tours you don’t want. Then there are of course the homeless and all the sketchy, nerve-racking freaks Hollywood has on offer outside its movies. But note that this is not an attack on the wider LA or even the larger Hollywood which I have not seen – this is merely my observation of Hollywood in particular, and even more particularly, the homeless problem.
In fact, this problem extends far beyond LA and is quite simply staggering to see, but then it’s not really a subject I know too much about, nor am willing to discuss on this blog. But while I’ve wanted to focus mainly on the positive elements of my three-month trip, equally I must be honest about my observations of the places we’ve been. That said, the homelessness in LA seems to pale in comparison to that of our following destination, Seattle.
I’m not entirely sure what we were expecting, but it seemed to be more of a logical destination to close the geographical gap between LA and Vancouver. With that in mind, we still didn’t expect it to be the unremarkable little place it is. In short, to quote TV show Fraser – which is set in Seattle but was actually filmed in LA - the blues really are calling here. Except that’s not a good thing. Seattle is completely infested with homeless people and unsettling characters. Mostly every corner of every block – at least before you head for the much less-terrifying city centre – is crazy person-territory. And they’re not the kind who want help either. They’re the kind who want to stalk you, scream in your face for money and some of them probably a lot worse.
Perhaps it also didn’t help that within minutes of arriving we were put on the backfoot, having spent two hours looking for an apartment building that turned out to be directly opposite the train station we exited, though virtually undetectable with its non-existent building sign, utterly moronic website directions and idiotic landlords who had closed the doors to the public to go out and buy a week’s supply of Red Bull... And while following a self-made trail of breadcrumbs to find this elusive place, Sian was almost preyed upon by a trio of presumably-homeless scumbags after having chosen to stay on a street corner with the luggage.
Even the “tourist hotspots”, such as the harbour, or the inexplicably-overrated Pike Place or the original Starbucks or even the Space Needle, are laughably bad. This post would also be criminally-incomplete without telling you that a homeless woman tried to semi-roundhouse kick Sian at Pike Place market when she evidently entered the freak’s “personal space.” Poor Sian, right?
I won’t spend any longer dwelling though. After all, we found a sanctuary in the form of Regal Theatres Meridian up in the city, where we got our film-binge on and pretended the outside world didn’t exist (it must have been a coincidence that the first film we saw was titled Get out). In fact, this cinema was so awesome that it’s with a heavy heart that we’ll never visit it again. However, it wasn’t that good to justify returning to Shithole – sorry, Seattle. But it was good enough to justify dedicating to it an entire blog post, so keep your eyes peeled for that one which I’ll add soon.
So it wasn’t all bad. We both certainly know how to make the best of a bad situation and above anything, it’s still a story to tell. I guess that, much like Hollywood Boulevard which is just a stone’s throw from the saving grace that is Universal Studios, Seattle is a place where you have to rely on the movies for literal escapism.
Here are some top tips on surviving Seattle, if you're stupid enough to still go after reading this post:-
1. Eat good food. You deserve it just for being here
2. Drink. Just drink. And smile
3. Admire the city views from the safety of rooftops only
4. Or even from the safety of a 747 jet
5. Go to the movie theatre. And stay there
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