Melbourne to Cabo Day One

 I thought for a while about what to call this post. You may have noticed by now that I name the posts after the places I visit. When I’m traveling it’s the start and end points. Over the next two(?) days I’ll fly fourteen and a half hours from here to LA, layover in a hotel overnight, and then fly to Cabo. Going going, back back, to cali cali for less than a day. It doesn’t feel right to call Los Angeles one of my destinations, too final. I’m going to Mexico.

Australia has been lovely. I feel like I’ve picked up a rock and seen a whole world underneath it. My whole life I’d been told that I have family down here. After years and years of thinking that I should probably head over, I’ve finally done it and what an experience it has been. Particularly, at this point in the trip it just feels so good to see people who understand more about me than the average stranger.

After some brief mechanical delays, we are pointed at the sky and due east. The flight proceeds uneventfully enough. I should take this time to quell some rumors. Quantas did not charter a flying emu for us. They also did not get Captain Kangaroo to fly the plane. Hilights included a near constant snack service and the movie Bugonia (watch it). Lowlight was “holy shit I’m trapped in a steel tube for over half a day.”

Eventually we landed in Los Angeles. I flip on my phone and get my first welcome home greeting, an email from FedEx saying I owe for tariffs. Land of the free. Immigration, customs, the drill. I get out of the maze and feast my eyes on The Horseshoe. For the first time in my life, I’m happy to see it.

I dump by bags off at my hotel for the night, take a much needed shower, and head out. Where to go? Where to go? I head to Long Beach. The hotel is blissfully near the train station and for the first time in months I don’t have to check a map to know where to go and where to transfer. Everything is starting to make sense. I begin to adjust and walk on the right again. I head to CVS for a tube of Burt’s Bees (I might be addicted) and the hilariously long receipt feels comforting.

The pharmacy is close enough to my friend Johnny’s warehouse so I rap on the door to see if he’s in. Lucky me, he is. We catch up and he shows me around. Business is moving right along and he isn’t the only tenant who is shaping up. The Bike Co Op is in there with him and my oh my do they look more legit than when I left. Clearly things have been in good hands with Devin.

Johnny and I have a lot to catch up on and do so over a beer at Buen Provecho which took over the much storied space from Toma after I left. After a round we manage to drag in our friend Marcus who is not far and bound for here anyhow. He’s got a cocktail contest here later tonight. We catch up over a round until it’s time for be to head back to the hotel. Back on the A Line, I almost miss it.

I change and hit the club. Sam First is a lovely little oasis in the chaotic shithole that is the immediate area surrounding LAX. In a sea of mediocre food and annoyed travelers, you can always expect Sam First to have good jazz and better cocktails. After so much time out of the country, I’m in dire need of an old fashioned made by an American. We just do them better. My friends roll in and we form a large contingent, about half of them club is at our table. We catch up over our drinks and I divvy out the collection of Tim Tams and tea I’ve acquired through Malaysia and Australia.

After the show (and it was a good show) the more reasonable among us call it a night. This leaves four of us to grab dinner at a fish restaurant down the road. It feels good to be back with people who really need no introducing. I want to hang out forever and I’m starting to dread my 5 am wake up time for my flight tomorrow. First world problems, suck it up. You’re going to the beach.