You might want to make yourself a cup of tea, or maybe just sit on a nice comfortable chair because this post is long.
Deep breath. Here we go:
Dearest America,
You had me weak at my
knees. You immediately lived up to previous expectations right from the moment we
flew over Los Angeles on that beautiful, pink-sky morning that was April 6. I
sat in sleepy awe, as we silently descended through the skies, only to touch
down in LAX moments later. You captured my attention, just like the first time,
with those distinctive, perky and most importantly - welcoming accents. I was
18, and I fell hard in love.
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| the moon en route to la |
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| santa monica, la |
There was something extraordinarily refreshing about starting my day
on the other side of the world. I was reunited, and it felt good. You fed us,
entertained us and dazzled us. Santa Monica, little slice of heaven, was the
perfect cure to our jetlag. When we believed our eyes could no longer fight the
battle of exhaustion, you were there to urge us to stay awake with your
magnificent pier, clear skies, and burgers from Bubba Gump that tasted oh so
good. Hell, you even delivered Usher. No complaints here. When our first day
was closing in on us, we sat in the Los Angeles traffic en route to Malibu for
dinner. I sat in the back of a yellow cab huddled between two girls fighting to
stay awake, and pondered how it felt so normal to be here: to be at home one
day, and driving along the coast of California the next. This very idea kept me
awake the entire drive. How happy I was to be in California.
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| my first meal overseas |
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| a strangely quiet lax at 7am |
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| flying over new york |
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You continued to impress me, America, especially when we flew to New
York on April 7. New York introduced itself to us in a relatively small airport
room, where at 5pm there must have been at least 150-200 people crowed around 1
tiny conveyor belt that was supposed to deliver everyone’s everything. 20
minutes later and small children were whining, the light in the room was slowly
starting to diminish and I was about ready to climb up the damn shoot and haul
out my suitcase myself. The drive to Manhattan was as picturesque as you would
dream it to be. Before departing to meet you, I had many dreams about New York
and often also found myself daydreaming about where our apartment would be and
what it would look like, oh and of course - how Times Square would look at
night. There is one point in the drive over to Manhattan where you can
literally see all the tall buildings lined up as if to say ‘yes we know, we are
the best city in the world, welcome, welcome.’ And welcome you did. Your
vibrant energy hit us like caffeine to blood. A waking shot to your body.
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| our street in ny |
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| pizza at daniellos |
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| times square on a saturday night |
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| sutton place |
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| the subway |
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| the south tower memorial |
Your highlights from this city included finding Grand Central
station at 9pm on our first night. We had been walking on a side street one
moment, and lifting our heads in awe at your beautiful ceilings and
architecture the next. Times square at night, times square during the day,
people everywhere, the subway, eateries everywhere, the beauty of Greenwich
village and soho, Dean&Deluca, Broadway, the 9/11 memorial site, the
shopping, fifth avenue, the elegant beauty of central park on an overcast and
chilly day. And of course, the beautiful views from the Rockefeller Centre one
evening. You gave me so much to see, and more importantly you acted as the most
photogenic city I have ever seen.
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| on top of the rockefeller |
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| empire state building |
One of my favourite memories however, was ice-skating under a clear
sun-setting sky at the Rockefeller centre. I could have sat down in the middle
of the rink, with the crowd watching from every side and cried, for you had
charmed me beyond belief, leaving me aching to stay. This was not, and would
not be the last time you would almost reduce me to tears, America. You were
good at that.
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| magic: grand central station |
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| madame taussauds |
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| central park |
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| streetside flowers |
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| rodeo drive, la |
The love affair with the East Coast lasted 7 glorious days, and it
wasn’t long before we were back in California. We spent days down at
Disneyland, hopping from ride to ride. From there we drove further South to
Dana Point where we would stay in a little home by the beach. We would cook,
and relax, and read, and sleep and feel right at home. GPS was soon no longer
needed to navigate to Gelson’s grocery store. Walking down aisle after aisle
with a shopping cart and list, it really started to feel like living. There, we
were no longer observers of how people lived in America, we were doing it
ourselves. After 5 days, we packed our cases again and moved South again to
Carlsbad, a small and pretty local town in San Diego county. There we would
stay with friends, have dinner parties, baked potato night and see the Padres
win against the Phillies in a baseball game at Petco Park. We would stand with
our hands over our hearts throughout your national anthem and when the crowd of
thousands sung together ‘God Bless America.’
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| lost and jetlagged at the beverly hilton, la |
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| patiently awaiting dinner |
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| graumans chinese theatre |
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| newport harbour |
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| carlsbad sunset |
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| packed up |
From Carlsbad we would drive 2 hours North to Palm Springs where you
would impress us with desert filled land. Your warmth wrapped itself around us,
sitting at a comfortable 35 degrees. Our last days were spent by the pool and
walking along the ‘main strip’ looking for the best restaurants and checking
out the cute little boutiques and shops. We would ride your aerial tramway 8000
feet into the sky, taking us to the top of a mountain where you could look out
and see the Coachella Valley in all it’s beautiful glory. While our days among
Palm Springs were short and warm, they were lovely. It was also here that I
began to miss home. I am still unsure of whether Palm Springs somehow reminded
me of home, or whether it had just been too long since I had slept in my own
bed, but between the aching to stay, I also longed for familiarity.
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| the beauty of palm springs |
Our final stop, once again, was Los Angeles. Everything was drawing
to a close. We ate beautiful dinners on our last two nights with the beautiful family
friends we had fallen in love with. Our very last night in the city had us
driving to the car rental office as the sun set. Our bags were packed for good
and we had said goodbyes to both the people we loved and the final place we had
stayed. As we drove it was so right for the sun to go down, like the closing of
a curtain after a brilliant performance. And how brilliant it had been. I swore
on that drive that I would be back to you, America. And I will be.
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| dropping the car off, hours before we left |
I figured it out, I think. I love home, and I love you too. Maybe
one day we will work out some agreement and you two will live harmoniously.
Till then, Adelaide it is.
All my love.
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| la on the last night |
