And everything else I did

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23 minutes read, 25 minutes if you really study the photos

“Your ideal vacation would be doing things one day, then taking a day off to blog, then doing things again”, Emily observed. While that might be a little extreme, I do think that I could have planned half of the activities and still be very occupied. If I had done 50 % of my program, maybe some more reporting would have fitted into my schedule. Or maybe not, because I blog for fun and it’s (kind of luckily) not my job.

But now I am giving you a condensed compilation of everything else I did in the city of angels. Well, everything I consider remotely interesting to you (personally, I rank the peanut butter eating pretty high too, but it might be less fascinating to outsiders). Are you ready for the longest post ever?

Walking to the Getty Center. Actually walking.

On Easter Sunday, Emily had planned for us to go to the Getty Center. To be honest, I didn’t even know what the place was about because my trip preparation consisted of relying on Emily to know best. This also meant I did not know where the Getty Center was, namely on a mountain. But why worry if you have a seasoned transit professional with you? We would bike, take the train, change to the bus and then to the monorail. Piece of cake!
Except that when we were on the bus, suddenly the driver announced that he would
not be stopping at the Getty Center. “There is a fire”, he informed us and drove past our stop. On and on he went, leaving us kind of dumbfounded as we watched the bus move
farther and farther away from where we wanted to go. And you know in L.A., distances are…far.

At some point, the bus driver performed a u-turn in the middle of the road. Feeling we were getting somewhat closer again to our destination, we disembarked the bus. “We could walk”, Emily suggested. I looked at the freeway surrounding us. “How far is it?” Google Maps estimated us walking for a little more than two hours. The Getty Center would close in two hours, as we already were half an hour behind our planned schedule.
Emily was determined to get to the Getty. That must be quite an interesting place, I thought by myself, as she decided we would call a Lyft and ask the driver to get us as close as possible to the Getty Entrance. We got into the car of a lady that must’ve been an actress judging by her looks and did Lyfts as a side hustle. After only a few minutes in her car, we got to the road stop – due to the fire on the mountain next to the Getty cars were not allowed to pass. The police officer waved to the other side. “Okay, we’re getting out here”, Emily instructed. We stood in the middle of the road. On our one side the start of the freeway, on the other a police car blocking the road to the Getty. Around us, desert-looking mountains. No civilization, really. Was this the end of our quest, time to give up?
Not if you are Emily and Helen and have two healthly feet! We approached the police officer and inquired whether he would let us pass as pedestrians. “The road’s closed off due to the fire”, he said. “But we don’t wanna drive, we wanna walk”. He looked at us as if we were some kind of aliens. “You can’t walk, it’s far”, the officer, who to be honest seemed more like the sedentary type, said. “Like how far?” Emily asked. He raised his eyebrows. “Like you’ll walk an hour”. I shrugged, by now feeling compelled to make this happen. It wasn’t like we had something else to do in that hour. And this Getty thing had to be quite something if Emily went through all this trouble. So we said goodbye to the officer and passed. He shook his head, seeing us go. We walked over what would normally be a busy L.A. road, marveling at the fact that we could actually
now walk in the middle of the road. But we didn’t do that for long because fire trucks passed on the road, coming from the fire. They waved at us, probably amused to see us walking. Because who walks in L.A.?
It did not take an hour. Not even close. After maybe 20 minutes we arrived at the fire – which was almost extinguished – and the monorail. We had made it! Thanks to our feet! (And our persistence.) We boarded the monorail which played music that felt like a movie soundtrack, probably to complement the amazing view we had going up the mountain.
And then there is was: The Getty Center. An architectural landmark, an art museum and most impressive to me, a garden. Just for walking through the garden for 40 minutes the whole trip was worth it.
That Easter Sunday, I felt like I’d been on a pilgrimage to reach what resembled Eden.

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Emily is unhappy about the fire

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Even random flowers by the highway are beautiful in L.A.

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Finally up at the Getty

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Grocery Shopping

I believe readers of this blog know by now about my fascination with supermarkets. Frankly, I don’t even know what I think is so cool about them, because it’s not that I buy so much. I suppose it is just the option to dive into consumerism that already excites me. While this extends to German stores as well (before I left, I treated myself to an hour inspecting all m√ľslis in our local store without actually buying any), I am especially excited by American grocery stores. All the things! The variety! It still amazes me. Emily knows this and took me to several stores, including Whole Foods (which for good reason is also nicknamed Whole Paycheck), Numero Uno (their Mexican store in which you’d better know some Spanish) and Trader Joe’s (German Aldi owns it but it’s so much nicer!). I observed that they do not have Elstar apples, but have cashew nuts that are much tastier than ours. And in California, they have all these veggies and fruits I didn’t know! Emily thought I was hilarious pointing at plaintains and asking “What’s this?” like a small child.

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Find us at Target

Church, or Should I become a Methodist?

Other people I know go to the U.S. to see famous sights. While I enjoy those, too, part of my special focus lies on the daily life in America that I can’t get enough of. This includes, as mentioned, grocery shopping, but even ordering pizza, watching regular TV, visiting the library and, featuring prominently this year as I was there during Easter, church. We went to church twice: On Holy Saturday, we attended a bilingual Easter Vigil close to Emily’s home. It was both similar to a Catholic Easter Vigil at home and different. The similarity was mostly that it was dark the first hour and they read lots of readings from the Bible. The difference was it was in Spanish and English. And the major contrast became apparent when the part of the vigil where the lights go on (symbolizing that now Christ has risen). Blinding us, the light suddenly went on, music played and the people went wild. The joy! Everyone danced, clapped and sang. Halleluja, He is risen! I felt very non-Hispanic as I awkwardly tried to clap along.

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Easter Vigil

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Biking home from Easter Vigil

Because why go to church only once a weekend if you can go twice, we continued our holiness the next morning by going to Westwood Methodist Church. Two of Emily’s friends attend that church and they pitched its service so skillfully to me that despite my decision to only go to only one service they had me revise my plans. And boy was it worth it! There was so much to take in at that church. For starters, I had never been to a Methodist church. It turned out, they actually masked the word “Methodist” in their name everywhere recently because the United Methodist Church conference had strengthened its ban against same-sex relationships. This church was fiercely advocating for tolerance and diversity, putting up banners stating this and displaying the trans flag and the rainbow flag in their so called Loft, where the service took place. They actually had two services at the same time, one at the Loft which was “an innovative approach to Christianity” and a more traditional one downstairs in the traditional church building. As we came in, there was tea and coffee and everyone sat in small groups in the large room. A gospel choir was performing, exactly in the way Europeans imagine that American gospel choirs perform. The service started with the pastor reminding everyone that Jesus calls his people to hang out with those that society excludes, “that is our calling!”, probably referring to the whole anti-homosexual movement. The energy was totally new age Christian and I of course loved it. Everything was extremely professional (I assume their volunteers all work in either graphic design or media or music.) and quite a great show. But there was also spiritual encounter: the set up of the service is such that after the Bible text are read (and projected on a screen which makes it so much easier to follow!), the pastor gives out a question regarding the texts and people form small groups discussing this question. At the end, announcements were not simply read – no, they had slides with elaborate designs inviting everyone to e.g. “Jesus loves tacos!” which was a gathering to say goodbye to the pastor who left for work elsewhere. I enjoyed it so much I immediately googled if I should convert to Methodism, but I fear in Germany, Methodists might not be as cool as in The Loft.

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Next day: the Loft

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The traditional part of the Methodist church

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Their garden, loved it

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After church, we went to Tehrangeles, the Persian part of town where we got really really good Persian lunch

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The Place where no one can live, except Arnold Schwarzenegger: Santa Monica

Emily and her fianc√© Scott work for the City of Santa Monica. Also, that’s where the nearest (or most accessible) beach is. Near in L.A. means a little more of an hour away. I went there on my second day and I loved it so much I came back a few days later. Santa Monica flaunts it wealth. Not in an unpleasant way – it just is apparent pretty much everywhere that this city has money. Everything is beautiful, the stores are expensive, the residential areas are basically a sight in themselves, even the busses are pretty and clean and their city hall looks like a movie set. Also, no one can afford to live there except Arnold Schwarzenegger (he really lives there!). I especially liked it because it’s small and walkable and made me feel less forlorn. Also, of course, the Pacific. So impressive!

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On the way to Santa Monica, I saw this tacky Easter decoration

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Santa Monica wins the award for best fountain

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They have a Toms store! Finally I could buy shoes on site instead of online without knowing if they’ll fit.

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Toms Store = Hipster Hangout

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The City Hall where Emily and Scott work

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Happy people, happy place

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Look.at.this.city.hall.

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Cha cha chicken was our dinner – delicious!

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Scott bought German beer. It claimed to be from Nuremberg and Westphalia at the same time. That’s kinda like saying you’re from Ohio and New York at the same time.

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The famous pier

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It might look like a movie set behind us but it actually IS the Pacific

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At Drybar, they blow dry your hair. They don’t do anything else to it. Just blow dry it.

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Who wouldn’t want to buy this?

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I went on a bike tour with a bike share bike…

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…right by the Ocean, all the way to Venice,

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Venice Canals

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Warner Bros Studio Tour, or I don’t watch enough TV

What’s L.A. known for? That’s right, Hollywood. I should probably go and catch some movie glamour, I figured, and booked a tour at the Warner Bros studios. What I only realized when I got there was that I don’t watch enough TV, or at least not the shows Warner produces. So I couldn’t really relate to the house of the Gilmore Girls or Dexter, and I have no emotional connection to the Friends sofa. But I did enjoy the Harry Potter exhibit (though maybe not as much as the Australian kid on the tour that was even dressed in a Potter gown!) and the costumes from Crazy Rich Asians. We also saw the crazy Batmobile cars – did you know their motor is the one of a lawn mower and literally only goes 20 miles an hour?

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I did _not_ buy this

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The Walk of Fame was very underwhelming. But I saw Grace Kelly’s star!

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There is a Trader Joe’s right next to Hollywood Boulevard and they took up the movie theme

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Hollywood/Vine metro station. Note the ceiling!

I was the only person alone on the tour which elicited kind of strange pity from the staff. When I got there and showed my ticket, the girl said, “Just one? That’s not a problem!” Yeah, why would it be a problem? When the guide figured out I was by myself, she repeatedly offered to take photos of me. I almost wanted to say that I do have friends, they’re just at work right now.

Art and people posing with art

Despite my ignorant idea of L.A. being a city consisting of only cars and freeways, there are lots of museums in Los Angeles. Emily signed me up for two art museums: The Marciano Foundation and The Broad. The Broad is not pronounced like the word broad (as in Broadway), but more like broode. This make me so self-conscious I didn’t dare to ask someone for directions to the place. The Broad-Broode is interesting for its architecture itself and displays a “challenging collection” of modern art. I found the selection to be somewhat eccletic, too. The most interesting part was the visitors interacting with the act though. I wonder if academia has already started studying this phenomenom. In museums of classical art, like the Mus√©e d’Orsay in Paris, I noticed people taking photos of every picture instead of looking at it. In these modern art museums, they go one step further and take selfies with the artwork. I understand this partly (it’s hard to resist photographing yourself in a Yayoi Kusama exhibit!). What kind of disturbed me though was when one girl, or should I say instagram influencer, posed in front of “African’t”, a cut paper silhouette piece by Kara Walker full of black stereotypes, sex and violence. It shows the brutality that black people have endured including violence, sexual and otherwise, and slander.

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The Marciano Foundation is located in a former Masonic Temple. That alone made it worth seeing. But even the exhibits were really nice. Ai Wei Wei was displayed as well as above named Kusama, and quite many children roamed the gallery. It was definitely a gallery I would recommend. In their museum store, they had the sequel to “The day the crayons quit”, one of my favorite books.

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Next to the Broad is the Walt Disney Concert Hall. I had lunch in the shade of the magnificent building

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The Egg House

When I googled to prepare my stay in L.A., I stumbled upon The Egg House. How fitting for Easter!, I thought. It was advertised as a pop-up “offering a multi-sensory experience” with¬† “multiple rooms of immersive installations and interactive experiences” that would transport you into a world of dreams and fantasies. I was expecting an art installation centering on eggs. Sure, a more fun one than what you’d see at a museum, but still something that would give you eggcellent food for thought (all puns intended). Emily, however, apparently more knowledgable in this field than me, saw right through it. When her fianc√© asked where we were going, she said, “Basically to a place where you can take good instagram photos”. And boy was she right. There was zero artsy inspiration but quite som fun involved.

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We made a little friend at the Egg House. A 4-yo-girl approached us and said, “I’m gonna be with you guys okay?”

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There was an Easter egg hunt going on and I collected enough eggs to win these socks!

The Museum of Jurassic Technology

Spoiler alert: Do not read this text if you intend to go see this museum. Actually, I will build in damage control by making you click on this link to read it: I swear I don’t wanna go experience the Museum of Jurassic Technology by myself.

Being fooled by bus schedules aka hiking to the Griffith Observatory aka Helen marveling at southern fruit

When outlining our plans, I asked to see some nature around L.A., so on my last day, Emily took me to the Griffith Observatory up on the mountain overlooking the city. Or, well, she tried to and just like with the Getty Trip, public transit tried to keep us from getting there. This time, it was first technology who tried to fool us. Standing at the bus stop, Emily’s app informed us the next bus would leave first in 45 minutes, despite it earlier telling us we would only have a ten-minute-wait to connect. We kept walking to another stop to take another bus to get at least a little closer. After waiting there for ten minutes, our bus – by the formidable name “Dash” – swooshed pass us. Eh, whaat? We boarded the other bus, attempting to catch up at a different stop with the Dash. This time, we would be sure and consult Google Maps and Emily’s app. Once at the bus stop, we waited. No Dash. L.A. doesn’t have bus schedules posted at the stops anymore, but you can text and get the real time information about the next bus. That source would be accurate, we figured, and texted. The result: we now had three departure times, all different from each other. And none was an acceptable wait. “How about we just walk?” Emily suggested and I agreed. Guess what? We walked for five minutes and then…saw the Dash pass us by again! By now, we had abandoned all hope to use the bus to get up there and as we came closer, we understood that our transit trouble was actually not that bad: Due to construction work, the road to the Observatory was closed and the bus would not go to the stop anyway. For pedestrians, the road was closed April 24, 25, 28 and 29. But not 27, which was today! On our hike up, I frequently stopped to smell to roses, eh, photograph the fauna (and marvel at the mansions). At some point, I looked up and said, incredulously, “Is that an orange tree?!” Emily nodded. “I’ve never seen an orange tree in real life!” I exclaimed, pretty amazed. To Emily, who grew up in California and Florida, my excitement was funny, probably as funny as someone thrilled to see snow would be to me.

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See the Hollywood sign? L.A. goals!

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And also:

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Emily took me to eat real tacos for the first time! I used to think burriots are tacos because Sweden has tricked me into believing that. Now I know!

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Following Ingrid’s recommendation, we went to a comedy show at the “Upright citizens brigade”. It was fun! (We did not see the above pictured show.)

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Emily also showed me her favorite mall. It had, among other things, the container store. HOW AWESOME IS THAT? It’s full of containers to sort your stuff. I loved it.

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Okay, the Container store also sold things that might not be super neccesary.

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I believe this is the longest blog post I ever wrote. It took me two days to finish it. How did I find the time? Oh, you know, jetlag has me waking up at 4 a.m. since I came back…

Five things I know about L.A. now

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Not in this list: L.A. is blooming. At every corner, there are the most beautiful flowers proclaiming abundant spring, making me rejoice. This field is literally next to the freeway (details on why I walked next to the freeway will follow)

It was last Wednesday. A week into my stay, I had finally overcome jetlag and mastered the transit so much that I can ride the bus home without frantically staring at Google Maps. And then it happened: As I stepped out of the subway at Hollywood/Vine, tourists came up to me and asked me for directions. Man, was I proud.

I will admit that the level “other people who know nothing mistake me for a local” isn’t my ultimate assimilation goal. But for only having been here for a week, I must have looked pretty knowledgable! So what do I actually know about L.A. after my first visit? Let’s see.

Los Angeles is…

1. interesting

When I asked people who had been to L.A. or the West Coast what I should not miss, they mostly told me to get out of the city and drive six hours somewhere else, claiming that L.A. is not much to see. To tell the truth, I find that a rather disrespectful statement. It is also totally not accurate. Los Angeles is very interesting! There is so much to explore. I had eleven fully planned days and constantly felt like I need more time to look at this, too and check out that as well. I could easily spend another eleven days before needing to go anywhere else. One reason there was never enough time in a day might, however, also be rooted in the fact that L.A. is…

2. big

I gradually wrapped my mind around the city’s size and structure. Once I started thinking of it like of the entire Rhein-Ruhr area where I live, I found it acceptable to be travelling ninety minutes to a place I wanted to go. (Or 120 minutes if it is the Dressbarn store.) L.A. is not really one city with one city center, it’s more like several centers and “in between burbs” (not even suburbs). It takes forever to get anywhere. Especially when you don’t drive. Now that I’ve reconciled myself with that fact, I start seeing all these opportunities for apartment hunting in Hamburg. I just have to trick my mind into thinking Hamburg is L.A. and a sixty-minute-commute will be totally fine.

3. hot and then cold

On my second day, I finally bought myself a little backpack. It might have been the best investment of 2019, and I say that while there are still eight months of the year left. Not only can I now bring things with me without a hurting shoulder, I can also bring more – and in Los Angeles I need more, namely at least one cardigan, a jacket, a scarf and actually, pack those gloves. Because when I leave the house in the morning, the sun is out and the weather is in the 70s (which is 20-25 Celsius), but then in the afternoon clouds can suddenly come out and make it ten degrees colder. When the sun sets, you better be home – or you have those gloves with you.

 

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4. Spanish

I’ve always wanted to go to Montreal to see in real life how a bilingual North American city would be. Now I can skip that trip because I already know. Every sign and most announcements are bilingual in Spanish and English. (More than 40 % of L.A. inhabitants speak Spanish as a native language.) It makes me happy to notice that my school Spanish often is good enough to follow the basic information. Sometimes the Spanish helps me to understand the English. Like at “Ross Dress for Less” where they call a section “Women World” in English which means nothing to me. In Spanish underneath it reads, “Talle Grande” – much more descriptive!

Street names are also very often in Spanish and it’s fascinating to see how easily they’ve been anglicized. I always thought Figueroa was hard to pronounce – until I heard it roll off the American tongues with ease. Same goes for La Tijera, La Cienega (my favorite because that is where the Target is), Centinela and Sepulveda (actually the longest street there is here).

5. noisy

This city is an acoustically very stimulating place. There is no way of getting home without a least two dogs loudly barking at you. They also like to alarm everyone at night when a car is passing by. Every afternoon, three ice cream trucks circle around the neighborhood, playing Christmas songs. On the bus, there is constantly something beeping and the announcements are never-ending. “Approaching Jefferson and Main, followed by Jefferson and Hope, for your own safety mind your step as you step from the bus, approaching Jefer and Trinity followed by Jefferson and Hope, we are on this ride together so please do not play loud music; to help us get you there on time, please do not block doorways, for your own safety mind your step…” The good part is that the announcing voice sounds like someone from an action movie that makes me chuckle inwardly every time he speaks. Which is like every ten seconds.

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The closest supermarket is Numero Uno. The cashier and I had some difficulty communicating because my Spanish isn’t good enough.

El Pueblo de la Reyna de los Angeles

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As a historian, I am always intrigued to learn how a place came to be. Malicious gossip has it, L.A. is “ahistorical”. Not true! The exhibition “Becoming L.A.” walked me through the – kind of short – history of the city. Imagine that it was only founded a little more than 200 years ago and how much it’s developed! I spent a few hours going through what was a very carefully curated exhibition (with lots of really old things such as the very table at which the Mexican-American war was ended or the original crucifix the settlers brought to L.A.!) with what seemed like a strong focus on political correctness and inclusiveness to me. It could’ve been in Sweden, really. Anyone who says Americans are not aware of their historical and current societal conflicts…go there and reconsider.

I walked from the canoes of the Natives to the foundation of El Pueblo de la Reyna de los Angeles (that’s the original name and they only kept the last part. It would be weird if we did that – I live in Orf? I was born in Erg? I studied in Ala and am moving to Urg?), through the incorporation into the U.S., the Gold Rush, the emergence of the dominant industries (not only movies, also aviation!), the Great Depression and the Post-War-Era. Population growth was insane! In 1850, there was a little more than 1000 people living here. Thirty years later, it’s 11,000. Just fifty years later, they had more than a millon in the city. Today, it’s four million only in the city (that does not include cities like Santa Monica). Angelenos did, however, entice the influx with some pretty professional PR: they (I guess that’s the local Chamber of Commerce among others) had journalists write reports about the area that advertised the great climate and overall benefits of living in L.A..

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Actually, there are exact records of who founded the town. 22 Spanish/Mexican adults and 22 children settled here first and the museum lists them with their names and everything.

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Outside the museum is the Edible Garden that teaches visitors about nature and food. Not only is it beautiful, it is also very well done and informative.

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In the museum shop, you could buy edible insects. For real. I checked the ingredient list.

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“As wealth increases, the colors blue and green increase in a neighborhood”

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During the Second World War, Japanese Americans were deported from L.A.

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The L.A. area is very progressive when it comes to certain sustainability issues. To reduce plastic waste, there are refill stations for your water bottle.

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On the bus home, I caught sight of poetry on the road. What a lovely initative!

 

Bloom town L.A.

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I am behind with blogging! The reason is mostly that jetlag has hit me really hard – I go to bed before Emily (which is a novelty for all of us) and I wake up, still feeling so, so tired. Did that keep me from walking 80,000 steps since I arrived? Of course not! (Anyone back at home who will ask me “So do you feel relaxed after your long holiday?” might be slapped, though…)

Just like last time I visited, my first day’s mission was to find the T-Mobile store to acquire a Sim-card that would work in this country. Millenials do not want to be roaming an unknown city without Instagram, eeeh, Google Maps. On the way there, I curiously observed how everyone was wearing long sleeves while I had just left both my cardigan and my jacket on the porch, feeling it was so warm. Also, people hung out in their cars with the windows open, talking on their phone which made me think several times someone was talking to me. I was highly alert, as you can tell, trying to not be run over by Mountain Dew trucks.

Most striking was and still is however the abundance of flowers everywhere. The city is blooming, giving it a very Southern feel. Colorful blossoms reaching over from people’s gardens to the street, almost like they’re saying “hi, tourist!”. I was in for a real flower surprise though when I was walking to the Natural History Museum to educate myself on L.A.’s past. Suddenly I was standing in the most beautiful rose garden. Well over 100 kinds of roses bloom there with funny names such as “Rainbow Sorbet”, “In the mood”, “Strike it rich” or “Tom Tom”. The rose garden, centered around a fountain, drew many parents with small kids but also elderly people enjoying the splendor of nature. Street vendors sold bouncy balls that had glitter attached, the ice cream man kept ringing his bell. Some students studied on the grass and couples picknicked romantically in the sunshine. As I sat on a bench by the fountain, I listened to the conversations sparked by the visits to the surrounding museums, heard babies crow with delight, children run to and from the fountain, their parents calling them. It was the perfect picture of a lovely spring day.

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These two had endless fun running to the fountain and get sprayed by the water that the wind cast in their direction. Then, they’d scream and run away, only the return 30 seconds later to repeat the fun.

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Rhine Romantic

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“The river Rhine is flowing happily and waiting for you”, my choir friend from Hamburg wrote to me when I moved to D√ľsseldorf. Almost four years later, I finally appreciate this stream that Germans call “Father Rhine”. A and my very first trip was to Koblenz, where Rhine and Mosel meet, and I’ve been wanting to go to K√∂nigswinter for a long time, too. Both cities are made for Rhine Romantics – majestic mountains rising up behind the water, picturesque old towns with half-timbered houses and wine restaurants and the occasional ferry transporting tourists up and down the river. Simply “a poet’s dream”, as Heinrich von Kleist described the Rhine region.

K√∂nigswinter had two strong arguments for me: it is just an hour’s drive from home (more time to explore, less time to travel) and it has the Drachenfels mountain with a castle that is referred to as the Rhineland’s Neuschwanstein. Traffic slowed us down a little but we were immediately enchanted by this little town (that is actually not that little, I researched K√∂nigswinter has 30,000 inhabitants!). We started with strolling down the river promenade and having lunch. In the 1920s, this was a swanky resort to which not only Germans but also many British travelled. A little bit of that atmosphere is still reflected in some of the buildings.

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We looked through a nice interior store and as a Riverdale fan, I of course had to take a photo of this

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A pub that didn’t look very inviting had this hilarious sign saying, “Small Party Corner International Music”. We passed the place four times, always peeking in to see if the party corner was in use.

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I not only appreciate the Rhine now, I even appreciate Rhenish wisdom. One of my favorite sayings is “Jeder Jeck ist anders”, meaning “It takes all sorts to make a world”, and expressing a wonderful sense of tolerance

 

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Königswinter has lots of pretty little cafés and stores

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“This is the little pub in our street”

Always seeking knowledge, we followed the signs to the Siebengebirge Museum that recounts the history of the region. Such a modern, interesting museum! It even had augmented reality parts. We learned that

the mountains were used as a stone pit,

that Lord Byron made Königswinter famous with his poem about Drachenfels (and they dedicated a square to him a couple of hundreds years later),

that there is a Königswinterer oven, a special kind of oven that apparently was a huge innovation, and

that the donkies that used to transport stones from the mountains were repurposed as tourist attractions when the stone pit was discontinued. A called this donkey structual change.

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Look at the world/ Everything all around us/Look at the world/ and marvel everyday

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A memory game of paintings and poems of the Rhine

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The famous oven

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Donkey!

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This fellow sat down with a glas of wine telling us about the history of the Rhine. He almost felt real!

When walking around in Königswinter you also see a mountain top with a large building on it: Petersberg. The Petersberg is a very historcial site as the Allies signed an agreement, the Petersberg Agreement, in 1949, granted Germany extended rights and led the Federal Republic away from occupation towards sovereignity. Feel the breath of history! Even today, the Hotel Petersberg is an official guest house of the German state. Queen Elizabeth, Nelson Mandela and Queen Margarethe of Denmark have stayed there.

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On Sunday, we went up the mythical mountain Drachenfels. It’s 321 meters high and we took the Zahnradbahn (rack railway), something that particularily excited A. It wasn’t any rack railway but the oldest still functioning one. From 1883! The mountain became a popular tourist destination thanks to the poems of aforementioned Lord Byron and German poets and legends surround the “Dragon’s Rock”. Its name stems from the most well known legend of The Nibelungs’ Song’s Siegfried who slayed a dragon here.

In 1883, a ridicuously wealthy banker came up with the idea to build a magnificent Disney castle halfway on the way to the mountain top. He never even lived there, he only had it to impress important friends that he received there.

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After continuing up the mountain, we reached the top where the ruins of a castle from the 1100s is located. The view is majestic. Absolutely stunning. The photo cannot do the landscape justice.

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You can see the Cologne Cathedral when you are up there! That’s 75 kilometers!

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I was also excited about the Zahnradbahn

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You could even buy a cake pan that shaped your cake in the silhouette of the Drachenfels

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And, of course, fika!

You know how D.C. and Kungstr√§dg√•rden are hyped for their cherry blossoms? Apparently, we have that too here! We went to Bonn, the former capital (and a charming international city), has two streets that are lined with cherry trees. Spectacular! It’s like a roof of pink flush. The downside? Everyone was there. All ages, all nations, all with smartphones. Some with high-end cameras and selfie sticks – those were the Instagram models I assume. The most awkward sight was maybe the young man going down on one knee amidst hundreds of tourists to propose to his girlfriend. But…she said yes!

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Stranded

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It is 8:30 a.m. and I am on the way to work. That isn’t completely unsual (albeit a little earlier than usual). The unusal part is that I won’t be in the office before lunchtime at the earliest. My commute is 4 hours today.

I went up north on Friday to give a speech at the Economic Affairs Council in the city where my aunt lives. So I took the opportunity to pay her a visit. (Which was great! We saw “On the basis of sex” about Ruth Bader Ginsburg, highly recommended.) Since I was already halfway to my parents’ place, I travelled further north to see them and be shown the progress on their new house.

At home, I almost obsessively listen to the radio news, A calls me “news addicted”. But when I am away and my routine falters, I eat D√∂ner and disregard the news. This wouldn’t be a big problem usually. But it turned out to be yesterday when I had missed an important piece of information: a storm was coming.

I had decided to leave later in the day to be able to see my friend Jonna in Bremen which is en route home. When I got to the station at 5:30 p.m., I learned that no trains were running anymore. Had I left two hours earlier, I probably would’ve caught the last train going south. Now, it was just tons of passengeres stranded on the platforms. The storm had taken down trees and all train connections to North-Rhine-Westphalia had to be suspended for the entire day and night. “Shit’s really hit the fan down there”, the attendant on platform 8 informed me. “You can get to Osnabr√ľck sometime today, but I don’t know when. What I do know is that you definitely will not get further than that until earliest tomorrow”.

There is no use fighting the weather, I figured. So I turned and got on the train back to my parents’ place. I was very lucky to be able to stay with them, I learned that other passengers with nowhere to go had to stay in the trains. All night!

So now I’m on the way to work again. Currently, I’ve made it as far as yesterday, Bremen. Things are looking better today though, my train has not yet been cancelled. I put “Inget stoppar oss nu” (Nothing’s gonna stop us now”, with the spot-on-line “You can forget Monday morning”) on my Spotify as an omen for me to get to my destination. Inget stoppar oss nu!