Viswanadh mentioned he had a phone card and got his local relative to get one for me. This means I can now make long distance calls from the apartment! Yay! I have to dial something like a 12-digit card number, then hit 1 for english (no marcar 2 para el español) then a 12-digit PIN, then 011 then country code, then just the regular phonoe number, sans leading 0. Whatapalaver! But I think I heard it say the $5 credit got me 200 minutes to UK landline!

Right. New pics uploaded, camera cleared ready for this afternoon’s “hike” (I’m taking a 2 mile walk around the botanical gardens, so no special footware there) just going to get home and eat, then off.

Awake and free at the same time as the UK for the first time since getting here, i found the apartment’s phone blocked for long distance calls. Am i gonna have to BUY a mobile?

Drove down to Garden st and walked thru the eponymous garden towards downtown… Chanced upon the library and popped in to see whether they had technical books. They didn’t but i spent an agreeable 40 mins reading about type design, a subject that has been a tantalisingly closed book to me for years.

All over town there are realistic bronze statues sitting on the benches,cleaning the windows, talking with one another… Very cool, especially for civic art. Should’ve got some pictures DOH! Wandered into borders and did the length of state street, checking out fashion, thrift, and tourist shops. Postcards were 25c each so I bought four, which came to $1.08 due to tax… d’oh… Picked up a book of “hikes” around the area. Many of them are 2 miles long. This is the kind of hiking I could get into! Got back home, cooked (yay! food that tastes right!) ate and slept.

My feet finally touched the ground on friday night. The combination of hard work, jet lag, a couple of late nights, culture shock, and the fact that all my friends are fast asleep when I get home from work meant I got home, slept for a bit, then went back into the office for a diversion.

OK so here are some of the strangenesses of being here.

Everything tastes odd. Now, I can handle the idea of there being local cuisine, but even the bread is funny here, kinda sweet. I was crushed last night when I broke into “Trader Joe’s Crown Of Rolls” which was off a shelf full of baguettes, pains rustiques and other “eurotica” and it tased, well, “mexican”. Friday was not a good day, gastronomically. At lunch time I’d made it down to trader joes with the recommendation that it wasn’t a regular store, and was fascinated by the range of stuff they had there, lots of organic stuff, and interesting products from around the world. I had hoped to get enough ingredients to rustle up a nutritous stir fry as well as grabbing something to eat for lunch. In the UK I find it a little irritating how you can’t really buy for one. In america, or at least in trader joe’s, everything comes in large net bags with about 5 people’s worth of stuff. So I came home with two ‘colossal’ bulbs of garlic and more ginger than I use in 6 months. For lunch I got my first ever burrito, for microwaving, and some papaya strips for afterwards. I managed to blow up the burrito and in any case it wasn’t all that pleasant. I’ve never been impressed by mexican food but I doggedly insist on giving it a chance to be anything other than mashed up brown gunk wrapped in something floury.

You can’t drink the tap water. Well you can, but it tastes funny. You can buy huge plastic bottles of water though,which are tasty.

It’s actually hard work to watch TV. A few nights I’ve tried to crash in front of the TV and it’s extremely stressful! Midweek Viswanadh and I watched die-hard and instead of 15-20 mins of movie followed by 3 minutes of adverts, it was more like 10 of movie and 8 of adverts. There were two people presenting the movie and they showed up every end-of-part and showed us some of the DvD extras before we could see the next bit of the movie. It completely screwed the pace of the film and I ended up doing my laundry and ironing without missing any of it!

Did I mention everything tastes funny? I had a tortilla wrap on my first day here, which smelled of the garbage. It’s coming to something when you start going to curry houses to avoid the strange local flavours… but some to think of it, their take on a chapati was distinctly… “mexican”. Actually that’s really baffling, cos a chapati is a lot like a tortilla, whereas the ones in the restaurant were just thin naan bread.

I don’t have a phone! The apartment’s phone is hobbled for long distance calls and the mobile LiveDevices gave me doesn’t work over here. Duh.

I don’t have internet! The radio is my only solace so far and I can feel the novelty wearing off with that too.

The apartment! My room has a light switch but no light. The bedside light is over the far side of the room and there are blinds but no nets, so I end up leaving the light on half the time to save stubbing my toes. There’s a weird central heating fan outside my bedroom door that likes to come on in the middle of the night for 20 seconds at a time. The cooker is all-singing all-dancing and after a week I think I have most of it figured out. I made a pizza in there last night with moderate success. No coat hangers, no plate rack, no light in the lounge! no video/dvd player… hmm I wonder if I can pick up a cheap playstation 2 or something downtown and expense it….

On tuesday I went to check out the local salsa venue and there were about 10 ppl there. I wore my trainers and had a few dances… then last night (thursday) I went out again to a proper night there. It was absolutely heaving and I got turned down by at least the first 5 people I asked! I was starting to lose my mojo when finally

“Do you want to dance? C’mon! I’ve come all the way from the UK and I can’t get a dance!”
“Do you know how to salsa?”
“Oh, I KNOW how to SALSA! It’s getting santa barbara girls to dance that I can’t figure out”
“Oh, I’m not from santa barbara”
“Well, we’ll be fine then!”

After that I started getting warmed up, but it was uphill all the way! More getting turned down and a few more dances, then when the third person said “do you know how to salsa?” I said “what is it about my face that says ‘this guy can’t salsa?! ‘” to which the reply was “well, we don’t know you…” so THAT’s it! They’re all just a bit cliquey and a bit timid! Or maybe they get lots of drunk gringos coming in for a grope… So from then on, I decided I had to use tonight to make my mark and loosen this crowd up a bit. I made sure I did my best moves in full view of people who I’d already figured for good dancers… by the end of the night I’d impressed a couple of girls, left a couple indifferent, and resolved not to ask certain girls again for a week or two!

They dance a sort of L.A. style salsa, which led to some interesting interpretations of my lead, but also they nearly all do cha-cha-cha, machata and merengue like you’ll never see in leeds! Much faster and though it still looks funny, it doesn’t look funny-crap but funny-cool.

One girl had her birthday so they played a salsa “happy birthday” and she danced in the middle of a ring of loads of guys, who each cut in in turn - I thought that was really cute!

I heard a couple of tracks that I want to track down and bring home. The DJ was up on a high plinth and spoke spanish all night so I didn’t get to ask him who and what they were… but I’ll have a browse and seef I can come back with some…

Rather than a walk down to B&Q for a £3.95 panini, I took a drive down the Almedera Padre Serra, which runs along the hillside to the beach. (spelling may vary). Loafed a moment and experimented with the multiple-shot feature on my camera to get some shots of the surf. Wandered over to the East Beach Grill and picked up a burger after chickening out on two-fish-tacos-for-$2.95. Unfortunately I’d killed the batteries so it was a quick trip inland to pick some up. Met spotty who begged a couple of dollars for a beer and told me where you can get a cannabis license, and wandered back (in the car) to the beach. Cruised for a bit with the windows down, parked up a second time and got a few piccies of surfers. Then cruised up state street, shuffled along to Garden and swung by the eponymous garden but didn’t stop as I’d been out for some time by now. Took an experimental route back up the hill to work which was a dead end, then zipped back to the condo feeling somewhat re-charged!

Well, I found out why everyone in SB talks about the weather. After threatened droughts, we had inches of rain yesterday. When this happens, the towns and freeways flash-flood, SUVs roll over, people get wet socks crossing the road and if they’re really unlucky, lumps of mountain slip down into, or from under, populated areas. I’m assuming it’s slightly less exciting than the news anchor people would have it, but also slightly more exciting than “Oo, the floods were ankle deep on the roads!”. I didn’t manage to get pictures but I’ll see how downtown is doing at lunchtime and take photos if there are any good ones to be had.

Ok. this is quite bad. York may flood deeper, but it’s a far more civilised flood!

Went downtown with housemate Viswanadh (”Vishnod”) from Hyderabad tonight. My goals were to find ruby’s where they have salsa and to get food. We parked up off state street (now I have no sat nav, I’m actually learning the streets and it’s not too hard, especially on the grid!) and wandered a few blocks around. Everything is spotless and expensive! The supermarkets and radioshack were open, so I got some stuff for breakfast and an adaptor for the laptop. The atmosphere is great here, really laid-back but well-off too. I found ruby’s and asked about the salsa on thursdays. She said I should go down tonight. I asked if the class on thursday was advanced or not, and she said no, it’s not really advanced, it’s not designed for really focussed people, more for people like me… hmm, I take it she means tourists. I’m thinking I’ll go down tonight and see if I can make her eat her opinion! If they all dance cuban style then I’ll be a bit lost. It’s going to be interesting to see the local dialect of salsa…

It was interesting chatting to Viswanadh. I’m not sure how much of what I said he understood, and I had a little difficulty with his accent too… but we marvelled at the strange levels of patience on the US roads, and though I saw shockingly little of india on my trip there, I was glad to have experienced the indian culture because it gave me a chance to see SB through his eyes to an extent and gave us some common ground.

OK. Time to freshen up a bit and go dancin. I don’t think I’ll last long tonight, I’m feeling quite knackered right now.

Ok I’m now in my cube between a morning’s induction and a quest for lunch. After lunch I’ll be taking back the car with satnav and picking up whatever my regular drive is going to be for my stay.

The office is GORGEOUS! I’ve taken a couple of pictures which I hope to get online sooner or later.

I invited Martin (German Neighbour) and family out for a meal but she looked terrified at the prospect so not sure how that’s going to go.

Just went into santa barbara to get lunch. The jet lag doesn’t seem to be bugging me too much yet: if I’d got into the condo last night and hadn’t had a two-hour delay getting the hire car then I think I’d likely be fine. It’ll probably be a different story come 5pm (1am). Downtown is great. Both downtown and the hills smell great - the hills are reminiscent of spain, I assume there are wild herbs around, and downtown smells of great food. I ended up getting a tortilla wrap, it being the most exotic thing I could find that I knew how to buy and eat. I guess the culture shock will wear off over the next few days and I’ll get the hang of it all.

This is my first stayi in a bed for a LONG time! Hire car troubles… condo key trouble

[ Translation Mr. Spock ]

Touched down in LA feeling somewhat tired, but on the whole, on top of things. I felt that my hare-brained plan over the last 24 hours had been a qualified success, and that I was in a fit state to endure the next 2 hours’ driving to santa barbara where a warm bed in my shared ‘condo’ awaited. I’d quizzed my neighbor on the plane as to the correct procedure at the “all-ways stop” - a strange american construction, more later - so was feeling more confident about driving.

Found a prime position at the baggage reclaim, got a trolley for $3.50 after figuring out the trolley-o-matic, and watched everybody else’s bags come and go. Then watched a few bags go round three or four times after everyone had left the hall but me. So I went to register my missing baggage. The woman got me to describe my bag and then gave me a form to fill in. Half way through digging out my address in santa barbara, I got a call over the intercom, and there she was standing next to the carousel with my bag… Boy was my face red. Anyhow, I loaded my bag onto the trolley and made for the exit. Where I had to leave the trolley and carry my bag. So that was $3.50 well spent.

Incidentally, these trolleys did not have a safety brake, but did have fixed-direction rear wheels and a great balance that made them eminently manoeuvrable.

Then I stepped into the L.A. night, which had fallen between the plane touching down and my leaving the baggage hall. The arterial road through the airport is abolute mayhem. There are courtesy busses for EVERYTHING so it was a case of standing by the hire-car courtesy bus stop and waiting for the Hertz bus. Meantime, something was going off involving a police patrol car, just too far away to discern, which I decided I prefered, in case there were guns involved…

The hertz bus took us quite a distance from the airport, to HQ, where the Gold Club members could simply look up their names on a large board and find their car. We scummy customers had to cross the sodden road to queue at the reservation desks.

I presented my ticket to the rather aloof, Italian-sounding man behind the desk. I’d reserved a mid-size commuter car with neverlost (satellite navigation) - the idea being I could bash in the location and just drive till I reached the condo, and bed. The guy phoned one of the crew in the parking lot to check the car had satnav, as the computer wasn’t showing it. Once the guy had all my details, I made my way back outside where a big black guy in an even bigger yellow jacket asked me which lot I was in. “638′ I said, showing him the card.
“That’s way over the back” he said “you want me to get it for ya?”
cool, I thought, that’s what I call service.
I waited.
I yawned.
I asked the guy next to me whether I should tip for this. He said I could tip a buck or two and tell the guy to get himself a coffee.
He turned up with a jeep/suv cross, which wasn’t quite what I was expecting.
“632, right?”
“638″
So he got back in the car and disappeared.
I waited.
I probably yawned again. It was getting late. 6pm local time, 2am body-clock time.
He turned up with a rather sleek-looking white pointed thing. Cool. I can see myself cruising in that up to SB.
The smallest I had was a $5 note, so I tipped him somewhat nervously, chucked my heavy bags in the ‘trunk’, opened the passenger door, shut it again and got in the other side.

No sat nav.

Maybe it’s built in to the stereo. But there’d be a button marked ‘nav’ right? Info. Wonder if that’s it…?

So I got out again. A bus driver honked at me for leaving the car in such an inconvenient place. I shrugged, having not moved the car a single inch myself, and went inside.

At the customer service desk, I spoke to the extremely helpful Amy, and said “I’ve got a car with Neverlost. I can’t find any buttons. I either need a crash course in neverlost, or a car with neverlost.” She pointed to a slightly-larger-than-palm-sized box mounted on the end of the counter and said “it looks like that”.
“I don’t have one of those.”
“Then you don’t have neverlost”
Grr. So Amy takes my contract and presses a few buttons.
“Do you wanna convertible?”
“Er… yeah?!”
“OK. It’s a ford mustang convertible, in lot 946. Sorry about the confusion. Have a nice night” etc. I said did she want me to put my car back in lot 638? She said I drive it to the other car to save walking in the rain and just leave it there. Cool!

My spirits are lifted by the prospect of cruising in this so I carefully wobble the car around the lot to bay 946, and park in it. Unless this mustang is real small, it’s not here.

So I took my bags out of the trunk and wandered around getting wet, checking the license plates on all the mustangs within range, and eventually concluding that my car isn’t there. Back to the desk.

Amy is sorry to see me back so soon, and takes charge. She gets “burt” on the walkie talkie and asks for any car with Neverlost to be got ready and brought to customer services. About 40 minutes later, this happens. I’m quite tired by now, but I do glean some amusement from the way she says “hey, burt” on the walkie talkie in exactly the sesame-street way.

I’ve got a ford Taurus. It’s a lot less sexy than the mustang, but bigger and quite comfy. And it has no gear stick! Oh wait, the gear stick’s where the wipers should be. Where are the wipers? Ah, where the headlights should be. Where are the headlights? er. Ah! Now I can see what gear I’m in.

After only a little confusion getting out of the compound (they want my drivers license and contract, and say “full tank of gas” as if they are telling me, then wait for a reply) I’m off onto Airport Boulevard with my sexy pocket passenger crooning directions in my ear. I got all the way to the freeway without apparently offending anyone, then within 30 miles of SB only offending 1 guy enough to honk and flash. This was pretty good going considering I’d not used this car’s mirrors in daylight, so had no clue how far away all these headlights were in the mirrors, and considering the freeway was really packed and people overtake on both sides here.

I’m now 2 hours behind schedule and REALLY starting to flag. After finding myself unable to focus on the tail lights ahead, I pull off to find coffee. I fail, but a change is as good as a rest and I merge back into the freeway and manage the next 10 miles before feeling once again that I am jeopardising my wellbeing. I pulled off again to look for somewhere to stretch my legs and get caffeine. The road is deserted so I pull into a small side road to turn around, then get a sudden attack of vertigo as I realise the landscape to my right is in fact ocean! A moment outside the car in the sea air fixes me up for the last 20 miles to SB.

Once in santa barbara, I meet my first all-way stops and the satnav gets a little confusing on the spoken directions, but fortuntely it has a map display too and I find the condo.

I went to the agreed hiding place and found two keys in an envelope. Neither of them fit in the lock. I try them the other way up. I examine them in the the tail lights of the car. One is for the “garage” and the other is for the “office” so I figure “office” must be Merikainian for the whole condo. It doesn’t open. I try the garage but there is no visible way of opening it from the outside. Bah! I’ll phone the contact on the sheet.

Now, I no exupert on mobile phones, but I didn’t expect to have to have to go down a bunch of menus to enable the tri-band functionality. But it wasn’t getting a signal so here I was at 9pm/5am, 45 hours after getting up, having to go through every menu option on this phone looking for something that might make it work in the USA. Nothing did. So it’s back in the car and off downtown to find a payphone. I called my contact’s out-of-hours number and got voicemail. And of course had no number to leave. So back to the condo, looking for ways to break in. I ended up ringing next-door’s bell since I could see their light on, and got taken in by a lovely German couple, their baby and their dog…

About 1:30 before touchdown in LA i’m trying to spot the grand canyon but have little idea what state we’re flying over. It was incredibly wide and flat, with a single, proud mountain range erupting from the middle. The whole earth seems to be covered in snow, so i guess that sets it at a certain altitude or latitude. Moments later, terrain gave way to a mountainous region with canyons… very striking!

Cloud cover now :-(