West Sunset.

We weren't looking forward to arriving in Los Angeles. After the devastating beauty of the forest, the mesmerising waves of open pasture and the striking cliff bordered beaches, the thought of tackling a busy metropolis did not appeal.

We forlornly made our way south along the coast from Arroyo Grande. Our first pit-stop was the adorable town of Solvang (sounds like something out of Twilight). It's basically a taste of Denmark in California. Windmills, a replica Little Mermaid, thatching and cutesy garden beds.

We browsed the Solvang Antique Center and lustily pointed out all the things we would buy if money was not an problem. Sadly money is a problem, so we disappointed the lovely sales staff by leaving only with an antique embroidered handkerchief $2.50.

We ditched the car on our first morning in LA and bravely joined the throng of locals and bewildered looking tourists on the cities bus service. The city has this weird thing going on where you think it's quite a small place. You try walking what looks like a small distance on a map and all of a sudden it feels like you've walked for days. Space time continuum? I bet David Tennant would have a witty explanation.

We are staying in a nifty part of town called Silverlake. When we first arrived I had one of those "Oh god, what sort of shitty neighbourhood have I got us into to?" moments. Turns out the harsh light of day does nothing for this place. Come dusk we saw it in a new (less sunny) light. Funky unsigned Pho restaurants, a Local restaurant rife with trendsetters and Latino food stands dotting the carparks in between. To us, much more appealing than the ritzy neighbourhoods of Beverly Hills or Hollywood.

We know we probably only saw a fraction of what LA has to offer. Rodeo Dr, Venice Beach, Santa Monica and Beverly Hills were as you'd expect. No wow from us. Entertaining, sun drenched and manicured. You might need more than two days to find the substance lurking underneath- we only caught a hint of potential.

Since arriving we have been desperate for Sunday to roll along, with it comes another epic flight. It's almost as if out trip won't actually start until we arrive in London. This last fortnight, only been a debrief. We start tomorrow (Sunday for us) with an early bus trip across town. No, not to the airport. To a British Pub, to watch Liverpool destroy Birmingham (or so we hope).

Now I must go, I have to work on my tan and I have a mani/pedi at three thirty.

Love.