A note on transportation:
Last week, during my NYC-LA-SD-Catalina-Ensenada-LA-NYC trip, I traveled by:
subway, car service, airplane, car (passenger and driver), cruise ship, tender boat, taxi
Today, running errands in Manhattan, I rode the:
F, 6, 7, W trains.
Stop snickering, I know I’m not that impressive.
It was strange being back in L.A., and while my reflections are all cliche and dull, I want to write them down so I don’t forget.
I understand now why East Coasters associate West Coasters with the beach (“You’re from California? Cool, do you surf?”). Driving around Santa Monica and Venice, everyone looks like they’re going to or from the beach. The style is so casual and laid back, flip flops and sunglasses abound, everyone is super tan and showing as much skin as they can get away with.
Aside from looks, everyone’s driving, there’s nowhere to park, there’s traffic. The houses and shops are all fresh and new looking. They’re SO short, and stuccoed in neutral shades. For the first time, I pegged roofs as the most defining characteristic of L.A. buildings, with their tile and gravel, tapered and flat. I don’t know what a single NYC roof looks like. NYC buildings stand out because of the material they’re made of — shiny metal, red brick. They look worn, tall and pretentious.
But the biggest difference I noticed was the air. California air is cool, brisk and clean feeling. It blows off the ocean with a refreshing burst. The breeze in New York, if you can call it that, is thick and sticky in the summer. Its only cooling effect is to blow the immediate heat off your skin with a warm smack. I’m glad I went to the beach every week that I lived in L.A., that way I can’t look back and feel like I took it completely for granted.
P.S. I’m happy to be back in New York, no really.