Yoga time

They say traffic in Los Angeles is horrible. I can tell you it’s not just a myth, it’s true. It takes an hour to get anywhere in LA by car. And car is the only way to go. LA is very spread out, and in between the different places you would like to go to is nothing but streets filled with cars almost standing still.

Anyhow, we had a good time in LA. Mascha hosted us in Westwood, one of the nicer areas of LA, with cute cafés and interesting stores. Mascha, and her boyfriend JD, seem to know everybody in LA. So of course, we were invited to various parties. The private party with Linkin Park, somewhere in Hollywood, was good – it’s not every day I go to a party with open bar and a chocolate fountain. That was as close as we got to celebrity-spotting. Although we also got to know a couple of days later, that Paris Hilton was at the party we didn’t go to. Mascha’s friend talked to her all night, and she was very nice, he says.

Selling the car didn’t go all that well. We did find one sketchy car dealer who wanted to give us a small amount of money for the car, but we were too stubborn and didn’t accept his offer. Instead, after having driven Anton to the airport, I went to the Salvation Army and gave the car away. With no Anton and no car, the road-trip was over.

It seems that everybody in LA is very much into all kinds of new-age stuff. There are raw-food organic vegan Buddhist people all over. So it seemed like the proper finale of my LA stay to go to yoga with Mascha. I boarded the flight to NY dehydrated, but the stewardesses were happy to serve me one drink after the other, so all was good.