Trip Reports - Zonies' Road Trip to SoCal (Long)

Husband (hereafter Hub) hasn’t taken any vacation for two years. He condescended to take 3 days off and we planned a quick jaunt from Phoenix to Los Angeles. A couple of days before departure Hub’s son, who is in Naval flight training, notified us he would have an evening off in San Diego and be able to meet us for dinner, so we added a detour to the trip.

For road trips we prefer a rental, to avoid putting lots of miles on our cars. Through diligent research I found a compact car at the Budget agency near our home for about $140/week, including all taxes. The taxes are about 18%, yech, but at the airport in Phoenix the taxes are a mind-boggling 40%. NEVER rent a car at the PHX airport, always choose an off-airport rental site! The price quotes at nearby agencies varied by almost $80 for a compact car, it was well worth it to spend half an hour making calls. I pick up the car early on our departure day, copping a free upgrade by complaining truthfully that the only compact on their lot (a little Hyundai) looks really old, stained, and messy. The manager waves her hand and I drive out in a bright red intermediate Olds Alero, for no additional charge.

We leave Phoenix about 8pm on Tuesday evening and drive west on I-10 with zillions of big trucks vying for positions at 75mph. We have a reservation at the La Quinta in San Bernardino and in the end slowly navigate miles of nighttime construction nearby, four lanes cut down to one, finally arriving about 1:30am. I find La Quinta to be a good mid-range chain and collect points in their Returns program. They are running a “stay 3 times get 1 nite free” promotion until August 15th and I hope we can earn this during the trip.

Wednesday morning we close our cases and head for the breakfast room. A gang of truckers are arguing politics and repeatedly changing the channels on the overhead TV. We eat our free breakfast in peace after they depart. We fill our little coolers with ice and hop back on westbound I-10.

We roll up to the downtown Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels at noon, park in the underground garage, and ascend by escalator to the entrance plaza. The goal is to attend the free weekly organ concert, we arrive in time for the 12:10pm mass, attended by numerous tourists and office workers from nearby civic center and courts buildings.

I find the architecture of the new cathedral to be viscerally unsettling and extremely un-spiritual. The entrance is supremely ugly and once inside you are trapped in a tunnel at the side of the building and can’t figure out how to get to the pews. We end up stumbling through a side door near the altar. There are no two angles alike in the entire edifice, to me it looks like a house of cards built by an inebriated 5-year-old, except a child that age would build something more visually pleasing. It’s a gigantic jumble of sand-colored concrete, with sand-colored alabaster windows, monochromatic to the point of sheer boredom.

One positive comment: the organ and choir area are located at the front of the building, the organ is very beautiful with warm woods and silver-colored vertical pipes & horizontal trumpets (actually 83% tin! - see many organ photos and details of construction and installation at http://www.dobsonorgan.com/home.html). We sit directly behind the concert organist during mass and she has her music open and propped on the pew in front of her, deeply studying it (and I suppose mentally playing the keyboards) throughout the service. Unfortunately, while the music presented in the concert does display the range of the organ, the selections don’t appeal at all to these plebeian ears. Just hit me with a good old Bach Toccata and Fugue any day...

I’m amused at the repeated announcements by the priests to “be sure to get your parking ticket validated for attending mass,” but since parking is $3 per 20 minutes (max. $14) the stamp is welcome! And one more kudo: the modern tapestries which line both sides of the main nave of the church are stunning, they depict the apostles and many saints, popes, Mother Teresa, and a few ordinary citizens. These beautifully woven works of art help make up for the profoundly disappointing architecture.

Humph, a day after writing this I google “Cathedral Los Angeles” and turn up a WSJ review of the building by investigative reporter/author Michael S. Rose at http://www.opinionjournal.com/taste/?id=110002263
and see I’m not the only one with a low opinion of this edifice, several negative reviews turn up in the search. The cathedral was built to withstand an 8.4 earthquake and can sway 24 inches in any direction, but I sure wouldn’t want to be anywhere nearby to experience that. And what if the “big one” is an 8.5?

After getting out parking card validated and driving through the bowels of the church to get out of the parking garage, we head for one of Hub’s old favorite restaurants, the Tam O’Shanter in Los Feliz, owned by the company that runs the Lawry’s Prime Rib restaurants. This Tudor-style place has been around since 1922 and everything is Scottish, including the waitress’ plaid skirts with net petticoats, black velvet vests and tams with pom-poms. A display near the entrance recounts the history of this venerable eatery, which was so far out of town it nearly failed in the first few years. Hub truly enjoys his prime rib, I have the quite good baked salmon with mustard sauce.

We decide to go ahead and check into our hotel before the next activity, so drive west along Hollywood and Sunset Blvds. to the Wyndham Bel Age in West Hollywood. In my web research this seemed like the best value (under $150) for a nice hotel in the Hollywood-Westwood area, since several other mid-priced hotels were either closed (Hotel Del Capri on Wilshire) or full (Doubletree also on Wilshire) or had recent poor reviews on tripadvisor.com (Luxe Summit Bel Air on Sunset). I signed up for the Wyndham By Request program, not a points scheme but rather a “tell us what you want in your room and we will give it to you” plan. We missed seeing the hotel sign and had to double back after missing it on the first pass.

The Bel Age is one block south of Sunset on San Vicente, near the famous (or infamous) Viper Room nightclub and many other trendy restaurants and bars on Sunset. I go inside to check in while Hub organizes all our corruption (suitcases, totes, a box of miscellany, and two coolers---we look like the Clampetts on vacation...) while I seat myself at the check-in desk, how civilized. I am informed that we have been upgraded from the standard studio-style suite to their full one-bedroom suite---all right! Check-in is efficient, I quickly scope out the room before we bring everything up. We are on the third floor (of eight) on the southeast corner of the building facing downtown and all of L.A. This is the quietest side of the building with a great view and pretty amazing for the $143 we are paying (Wyndham website rate). Valet parking is an additional $22 per day with in-and-out privileges.

The large living room has sleeper sofa, love seat, coffee table, round table with two dining chairs, large desk with high-speed-internet access, tv armoire, lamps. A sliding glass door leads to a small balcony with a glass-top table and chair. A small kitchenette/bar includes a bar sink, locked mini-bar (we forget to ask the bellman to unlock it), coffee maker and accessories, no microwave. A power-saving device is in the entry hall, a keycard must be inserted in the wall switch to run the A/C and lights for the suite.

The Wyndham By Request sign-up page on their website asks for room preferences such as welcome drink, snack, type of pillows, etc. and I scan for these. On the dining table I find our “Welcome to the Bel Age” letter, an ice bucket with requested Diet Coke (plus a half-liter of water), and the welcome snack (I had specified “cheese and crackers”) is a box of Carr’s table water biscuits and a 4-inch wheel of Gouda cheese with plate, knife, and cloth napkins. We call housekeeping for extra towels, an extra luggage rack, and a second bathrobe, all are very promptly delivered by a friendly lady.

The king bedroom has another tv armoire, nightstands, a closet, the window looks east toward downtown L.A. A large bathroom completes the suite with Golden Door amenities including shampoo, conditioner, eye pad, mouthwash, bath gel, shoe sponge, shower cap, etc., all arranged on a lucite green leaf tray. The toilet and combo shower/tub are in a separate room. We have three 2-line phones in the suite: at the living room desk, a cordless in the bedroom, plus wall phone next to the toilet. I note no Dianne on the bathroom phone but figure I probably won’t need to use it so why bother complaining.

After unpacking a few items we head back out for an early evening on Hollywood Blvd. First, we take the elevator to the roof to check out the pool area and bar, commenting that the city view is just as good from our room. It’s a good thing we phoned ahead for the valet to bring the car, throughout the stay it takes about 15 minutes for the car to be brought up.

We drive past the many sidewalk restaurants and shops at Sunset Plaza, just east of our hotel. We find a FREE parking space one block south of our destination, in front of Hollywood High, and walk around the Hollywood and Highland area for a couple of hours, seeing the foot and hand prints at Graumann’s Theater, many sidewalk stars up and down the streets, and we walk around the exterior of the Kodak Theater. I especially like the columns in the Kodak Theater entry way with etched glass panels naming the Best Picture of the Year for every Academy Awards year from the beginning, with room for many years into the future. Why am I not surprised that the entire entry walkway is actually a mall? We walk east through the complex to the Babylon Court, an open plaza and food court with the “best view” of the Hollywood sign through the northern side. We walk up and down Hollywood Blvd. looking at new and old buildings, Zorro, Starwars troopers, mimes, the usual Hollywood characters. Still stuffed from the large late lunch, we return to the hotel early to recoup lost sleep from the short previous night.

Since this is a leisurely vacation, we dawdle around on Thursday morning, finally getting out to our first stop, Farmer’s Market. We walk around this little slice of history with old pictures on the walls of the parking lot and buildings in the 1940s. A replica of a vintage gas station is near our parking place. My husband grew up in L.A. in the forties and fifties, so this is a nostalgic stop for him. His mom used to bring him here to shop when his dad was away in the wars! We get a coffee for Hub and a triple chocolate frozen yogurt for me (never too early in the day for chocolate). Many little fruit and spice stands are interspersed with all sorts of mom-and-pop delis, cafes, and food vendors. The huge new Grove shopping center is next door, but Hub is death on random shopping so I mentally add it to the list for my next solo trip.

I’ve prepared a small surprise for the dear, due to his being one of the world’s biggest Marilyn Monroe fans. I don’t tell him where we’re going, but direct him to drive west on Wilshire, into Westwood near UCLA. After fruitlessly driving around the correct block twice, we figure out that the only approach to our target destination is by following the exact directions I had read here on FlyerTalk. We take a small driveway south from Wilshire, leading to the Avco Cinemas parking garage (best to approach driving eastward). This unmarked alley leads to the tiny Pierce Bros. Westwood Village Cemetery, final resting place of many Hollywood greats. I have a map, printed from the website http://www.seeing-stars.com/Maps/PierceBrosMap.shtml, and we find markers for Dean Martin (epitaph: everybody loves somebody sometime), Walter Matthau, Natalie Wood, Fanny Brice, Truman Capote, Peggy Lee, Les Brown (inscribed “a man of renown”) Mel Torme, Darryl F. Zanuck and wife (their oversized markers have complete biographies), and a large separate marble mausoleum with a carved inscription “The Armand Hammer Family.” Of course we find Ms. Monroe’s crypt, in the northeast corner, the wall-mounted vase holds artificial lilies and I’m reminded that Joe DiMaggio sent fresh roses three times a week for 20 years after her death. Supposedly, Hugh Hefner has reserved the crypt next to Marilyn. I must say, in all my years of travel this is the strangest activity I’ve ever sought out, but apparently Marilyn Monroe’s grave is the most frequently visited of all of Hollywood’s departed. The cemetery is extremely peaceful, a tiny and hidden oasis in the teeming metropolis, and it’s easy to see why families would seek it as a final resting place for their loved ones.

Our next stop is the convent in Mission Hills where Hub’s 82-year-old auntie lives, this summer she is celebrating 60 years as a sister! We pick her up and head for the Getty Museum. We opt for lunch in the Restaurant (“fine dining,” versus the Cafe which is cafeteria-style) and after our crab- and shrimpcakes meal I take the docent-led architectural tour (excellent) while Hub and Aunt explore on their own. We agree to meet at the pavilion housing the illuminated manuscripts, I figure Sister’s knowledge of Latin and church history will make this exhibit the most interesting for her. Unfortunately, when we get there we discover the whole area is closed pending a major exhibit opening a few days later---rats! By now it’s past 4pm and we fear major tie-ups on the freeways, so we depart the museum and head back to Mission Hills. Surprisingly, traffic is relatively light both northbound on the 405 and back to the hotel via the 405 and Sunset.

We are such fuddy-duddies, arriving back at the hotel and not at all hungry we elect to snack on cheese, crackers, yogurt, etc. instead of venturing out for dinner. I peruse the “Refreshment Menu” and find Snacks listed: Oreo cookies $4, Snickers $3.50, Altoids $4.50; how about Non-Alcoholic Beverages: One liter water $6, Sodas $2; or my personal faves, the Extras: Ethernet Cable $5, Intimacy Kit $4 (afraid to ask), Safety Kit $5 (guess safety is worth more than intimacy...). I suppose these items are in the locked mini-bar. Oh, almost forgot the piece de resistance: “Mini-Bar Product Removal $50” (exclamation point added for emphasis)! We pack up for the move south.

Friday morning dawns with the typical June “marine layer” SoCal weather again, morning fog and haze which usually partially burns off by noon. We have a quick and uneventful check-out, the $20/day tax and $22/day valet parking make the bill for two nights about $370. We load the car and head for Santa Monica, via Brentwood where I plan to drive by Marilyn Monroe’s home on “Fifth Helena Drive.” It turns out there are many, many Helena Drives and each is a narrow lane leading back about 150 yards to houses that are all behind high walls with big gates. Not wanting to get chased out by residents or security staff, we content ourselves with stopping at the end of the lane labeled Fifth Helena. We peer back through the trees at---nothing---just a little single lane driveway.

We make our way to Bergamot Station, a collection of old warehouses and industrial buildings that have been transformed into art galleries. We visit the Fetterman Gallery, #A7, which is showing a series of Robert Capa photographs. I had recently seen a documentary about Capa (never had heard of him before), a Hungarian war photographer famous in the 1930s and 40s, he was a great pal of Ernest Hemingway from Spanish Civil War days. The tiny exhibit has several photos that were shown on the tv special, the ones taken from the landing craft on D-Day are especially powerful. As I’m contemplating the $2,500 asking price for what I consider the best pieces, the gallery owner chases us out, saying that he has a doctor appointment. Excuse me!

We head for Montana Avenue, excellent shopping street in Santa Monica, and almost park right where we want to be, until a lady walking her dog warns us “No Parking on Fridays for street cleaning,” and we then notice the sign just as the meter maid leaps out of her motorized trike with a mean look on her face. We jump back in our car and drive around and around, finally finding a spot on a street several blocks from our intended destination. We admire the restored Spanish-style homes and apartment buildings, too hard to see from a car and best seen on foot.

After shopping for travel items at the Royal Robbins store (store carries lots of clothing, packing aids, etc.) and lunch across the street at the tiny Blue Plate cafe (1400 block of Montana Ave.), we head south toward San Diego for our rendezvous with Son.

Hub is swelled with pride since his Marine lieutenant son just completed his “carrier quals” the previous day. This final stage of Naval flight training must be accomplished by every pilot by making the requisite ten traps (tailhook-arrested landings) and cats (catapaulted takeoffs, launching at full jet power from zero to 130 in one second). Son has chased the aircraft carrier Abraham Lincoln, steaming off the California coast, through bad weather and when all is over only two out of forty in the class make the grade. Weather problems prevented the others from qualifying.

Traffic on the I-5 nearing San Diego is like a parking lot, Friday afternoon super-clog. We exit at Encinitas and take the coast two-lane road through the summer-crowded beach towns, then dodge the freeways altogether by taking surface roads and streets to our Old Town destination, another La Quinta Inn. We arrive frazzled and Hub parks the car in the tiny underground garage (hurray for FREE parking) while I work on the front desk for an upgrade. Once again the magic words “quiet room away from the freeway” garner a larger room, not the original tiny one assigned which is smack on I-5.

Our room is typical La Quinta with two queen beds, desk, etc. and has a good-size refrigerator, coffeemaker and microwave. Free ice in machines, not “ring the bellman” then tip $2 ice. (Yes, I’m an inveterate Scot, I’ve always resented spending money unnecessarily.) We like the La Q free breakfasts, which we usually bring back to the room to eat in peace while watching the morning news. Our rate is $129.95 which is high for La Q, but it’s a summer weekend and most of the other hotels were $200+. The Hotel Del Coronado only had rooms available on a package for $280/night plus taxes plus $22/day parking, and the rooms were their tiniest 200 square feet “Victorian” ones with no view, maybe even no window? We wanted to stay on Coronado Island, since Son is staying at the NAS North Island “Navy Lodge,” but with the last-minute notice I couldn’t find a room in all of Coronado for under $250. We were only using the hotel to sleep, so didn’t want to overspend.

We immediately head to North Island to pick up Son, since we are in a rental car we have to park at the NAS gate and get a security pass for the car. Big happiness at our meeting, we haven’t seen our young Marine since last Xmas and he is in FINE form with the toughest part of his training just passed. He takes us on a quick tour of the base, we gawk at the nuclear carrier Nimitz which is undergoing some maintenance, we ooh and aah at one of the squadron’s T-45 training jets, climbing on ladders to peer inside. Hub cannot resist dissing the Rolls Royce engine, as usual muttering under his Irish breath at all things English.

We head to the village of Coronado for dinner at a Bistro D’ Asia. Son and I share four orders of sushi, all delicious, but the portions are huge, double the “normal” size. Hub waves off the seaweed, fish, and rice, opting for his requisite steak (battle cry, “Gimme MEAT”). Son has to fly the next morning, so we take him back to his room, where I fall asleep while Hub instructs junior on aerial combat maneuvers using tiny paper airplanes to illustrate the right moves.

Saturday the weather is the best all week and we spend the day in normal San Diego tourist mode. We begin with a walking tour of the museum and gardens areas in Balboa Park, have a green tea at the Japanese Garden Tea Room, listen to rehearsals of the Spreckels outdoor organ accompanied by a family of opera singers, followed by a fabulous lunch at the “Best of San Diego for Outdoor Dining” Prado restaurant. We drive to Pt. Loma and the Cabrillo National Monument, the first landing place of Europeans in this part of the world. We also make a short foray into the Gaslamp Quarter, then enjoy margaritas in Old Town at Casa de Bandini. We forego the one hour wait for a table and sit on stools on the shady verandah. Enroute back to the hotel we drive up the hill to the Presidio, the original fort and mission area of San Diego.

It’s a mighty tight fit back in the teeny, weeny hotel garage and Hub is most unhappy when he scrapes the car side mirror on a post. Fortunately there is no visible damage to the mirror, just a slightly bruised male ego.

On Sunday morning we have a painless checkout, the bill is pre-printed and the process takes about 30 seconds. Just east of San Diego proper we are sad to see the miles of burnt country along I-8 from the fires last year. There are a number of houses under construction in the area.

It takes 6 hours to drive back to Phoenix, would’ve been faster but we had to rumble through most of the main drag in Yuma so Hub could see what’s changed in the years since he was a young studly F-4 pilot at the Marine Corps Air Station. Needless to say, the town hardly looks the same. Choices of luncheon cuisine are limited in Yuma, we opt for Quizno’s and just manage to beat the Sunday after-church crowd, by the time we are half through our meal the line is almost out the door.

We arrive home about 4pm, in time to unload the car and organize all the laundry. I refill all my travel-size bottles and put away the cases. We only got two La Quinta stays (since we spent two nites in San Diego instead of one nite in Costa Mesa and one in San Diego as originally planned). We found a new favorite West Hollywood hotel, the Wyndham Bel Age. We saw lots of fun and obscure sights. Best of all, we celebrated with Son and our next trip is in 3 weeks for his aviator graduation at Trent Lott’s prime pork barrel project, NAS Meridian, Mississippi.