Still in LA, still haven't seen a famous person, though that may have something to do with location... the hostel is just off Hollywood blvd but the sketchy end of town where shops sell 'exotic shoes', the restaurants are Mexican and the pedestrians are HOBOs.

LA is a city built for cars but we decided to take a stroll around, see some sights and all that. 8 hours and 4 blisters later we returned, possibly the first species to circumnavigate LA by foot, taking in the theatres, a red carpet event, walk of fame, MOCA, Sunset Strip and the Grove (yes, LA has its very own Spuggy and PJ). Saw the Jewish quarter, the exclusive quarter and the povvy quarter (the Jewish was definately the best, though there were no liqourice allsort hats in sight). Got back to the digs to find that the toilet has exploded, leaving a trail of floaters and a river of wee running through the room. Thank god for top bunks. Managed to propell myself away from the sewer surroundings with the lure of a hummer stretch limo and the promise of bottomless champagne. It did everything it said on the bottle. A pint or two of the bubbly stuff later and we reached a bucking bronco bar, managing to look like complete tourists, receiving special award for the 'Brits abroad' effort with Panda tans and rowdy spirit. From here we went to a club, the sort of club where you knock on a door, give a password and do a secret handshake to get in. It was a drum and bass club, cultural learning you could say! I found myself with $5 in my pocket, enough for either a ride home or a drink. I sensibly chose the latter.

Somewhat surprisingly i woke up shake-free and spent the day at Universal studios. Was good seeing how pyromaniacs work and dashed my visions of Wisteria Lane actually being a real place. By the end of the day i had decided that i would quite happily spend the rest of my life on valium.

Yesterday was spent at Venice beach. Venice sells a vast array of sunglasses, henna and hot dogs, with sidewalks full of unhinged, ADHD, dishrevelled and just plain weird people. I think i found my spiritual home. Wandered around the canals (yes, really) which were pretty quaint, the guy from Grand Designs would have a field day there. Then it was onto the beach and the best activity, weirdo watching. Saw lots of guys who'd had one too many protein shakes and gals who'd had one too many botched botox injections. And then there were the heamaphrodites.