It took me quite a while to write the report of my last (and First) US trip.
One month later, I've finally absorbed all the madness that took place in those mad 10 days and I'm finally ready to write something about it.
Just one word of advice: if on Sunday morning you're going to run a marathon (a proper one, 42,195 km - 26 miles), DON'T even think about spending Friday night and Saturday in Las Vegas gambling, drinking and trashing yourself. IT IS NOT GOOD. Especially if the marathon is in Los Angeles, with 95° degrees…
Day 4 - Lobster at breakfast, Hooters Girls (again) at dinner..
Time to move on. After a nice breakfast with the lobster we "fished" the previous night, and another mini-tennis tournament, this time won by Rob (Johnny always won nice bronze medals), was time to say bye-bye to Atlanta to fly to Los Angeles and meet the rest of the team, Guy of the family of the PW, and David the Spaniard, flying from London.
The flight was boring, comparing to the exciting one just few days before. British Airways beats Delta Airlines 3 films and a bottle of champagne to 0.
After 4 or 5 hours of flight, we were there. In the La La Land. In Los Angeles.
Hot. Incredibly hot.
We rented a nice, big and white Cadillac and we met the rest of our friends. The team was completed. Olafmeister Olgiati, Johnny Cheeky Playboy Clues, Rob "the one with the American Wife" Smith, Guy of the PW and David "my salsa" Boleas. And the Cadillac. How cool is that?
Los Angeles was exactly what I always thought it was.
Like Atlanta. Only more Mexicans, a big ocean and Hollywood.
That's why we went straight to the first real American place to taste the real Californian feeling: a British pub. After few pints of Guinness (and a Lemonade, though it was worse then the Georgian) we drove to the first beach: Santa Monica. It was already evening, so we moved the only place I already started to call home since I flew to US: Hooters.
Hot chicken wings, beer, free lemonade refills and girls with huge boobs. Did I already tell that?
I love Hooters. Therefore I love the US.
Soon after it was time to meet Rob "I don't remember the surname", a friend of Johnny, and, I think, film producer or something like that. His wife was pregnant and his house was a nice big house on the Studio City Hills, so he must have been happy. But I was too tired to notice that and I think I was a bit too rude when I used his bathroom. Still feel sorry.