LA, LA, LA

It's crazy man. We're staying in a somewhat questionable hostel up in Venice Beach, on Lincoln Road. It's ok, a bit grubby, full of rather dubious characters you can never quite be sure aren't going to nick your stuff while you sleep.

The weather's beautiful, though it's cooler and far less humid than Fiji, and we've walked to the beach twice today, having a proper look at what crazy, hippy, doped up americans do on a Sunday aftenoon. The answer is quite entertaining. Hip-hop blaring from massive speakers, loads of people dance/rollerskate the aftenoon away. These people are really talented, busting loads of moves and going mad to the music. I wish I knew what they were on, as my guess is it's more than Ganga, which incidentally you can buy with consummate ease along the beach walk. Just pretend to be ill and you can grab a perscription. Why not? This is LA!

Other than chilling on Venice Beach, I've spent my time in Santa Monica, and have already managed to spend too much money in Abercrombie. Good times. I'm going to work like a dog when I get back to the UK.