#LALife

As I sit at hipster Tom's Cafe on Abbott Kinney, Venice Beach - just minutes walk from my new flat - it is a great chance to reflect on my last 6 weeks experiencing and settling in to #LAlife.

LA is about small wins amongst the struggle of a sparse city. Its about chat around what visa you have and why you are here.  Its about traffic. Its about what you drive. Its about what part of town you live in. Its about the industry and your dream in it. Its about sunshine. Of fitness. Of burgers. Of micro-brewed beers. Of ambition. And lifestyle.

I arrived on the Californian coast for a double dose of Coachella and haven't been able to wipe the smile off my face since. Ok maybe the days following the festivals when reality of moving to this vast megalopolis set in. There is lots to think about. Car. Flat. Job. Girlfriend?

The hospitality of my great mate and school friend Bodie and his partner Colleen has been tremendous. Having a room to come and go from in Santa Monica on my arrival has been a godsend. Getting to know the feel of the posh Montana Ave area over the first few weeks was fun. A little quiet for my liking, with not much happening in the evenings as people retreat into their million dollar homes. Yoga mums walk their prams up and down the leafy streets.  Trendy script writers and film producers do their shopping at Whole Foods and the other organic boutiques.  I did see LA Clippers hometown hero Blake Griffin though, grabbing his coffee and salad before hopping in his shiny silver Mercedes.

Having a small bunch of solid kiwi mates has made the transition easier, and its been great able to share stories of unique city experiences. Bodie is the godfather has been here for over 4 years now, coming after winning a Green Card in the lottery.  He works downtown in legal recruitment and is always keen for a beer to pass on his war stories of his time on the SoCal coast. His partner Colleen was born and raised here and have been able to point in the right direction for life on the West side.  Another kiwi couple Shane and Nikki Bloor are also settling in, arriving a few weeks before me have been fantastic company and great for a laugh. Rees and Leon at the NZ Consulate are super hospitable passing on business contacts and invitations to events.  My new flat mate Alex who has been here for 6 years working in TV industry and recently launched her own event caravan 'Your Little Local'. She has introduced me her friends, found me a flat and my own Ford truck! I am very grateful for their help in settling in. And another kiwi Jordan over here pitching a movie has been a welcome distraction to chew the fat and plan big ambitious creative ideas to work towards.

You definitely need a car in LA.  On the Westside you can get away with a bike but still is challenging. Even getting from Santa Monica to Venice is still a good 20/30 mins bike and arriving hot and sweaty for meetings is not ideal. After borrowing my friend Natalia's for a couple of weeks on arrival I recently splashed out on a Ford Explorer truck. It was a steal at $1500 and I spent a bit more getting it road and smog test ready.  I look forward to cruising up to Malibu or even further a far this summer.

There have been some memorable events and nights out. Eight of us managed to secure some tickets to the NBA playoffs and saw Steven Adams come on against my new local team the Clippers. Clubbing in Hollywood amongst the celebs and scensters, witnessing the EDM boom taking over the city.  Memorial Day Weekend was spent up at actor Chris Pine's place in Los Feliz.  It was cool to meet some likeminded LA locals and see the kind of life success in this city can lead to. The views of the Griffith Observatory and the Hollywood sign were an inspiring site.

I got to go out on the water the other week with a bunch of kiwi actors and other creative business people living over here. Captain Phil has been over here for 20 odd years and takes regular charters out into the Bay. We sailed over to Malibu and anchored for a few hours about 200 yards off the beach. Some of the crew took boards and went surfing in the crowded break, while others went paddle boarding and swam.  It was a lazy afternoon sailing back in the salty California air. Given it was a Thursday you had to wonder if anyone works in this town?

The hustle remains top of agenda and trying to meet as many people as I can around town to see what work opportunities may be available in the entertainment space. I've met with music agents, tech entreprenuers, lawyers and promoters.  They say you never have a bad meeting in LA. It is easy to say yes to ideas and to keep you engaged, but no one ever wants to give you a no.  You never know who may come in handy down the track. People have the tendency to flake. Meetings get postponed, pushed out, rescheduled. Luckily I'm reasonable flexible. It's all about keeping the momentum. I've managed to get a good lay of the land and some opportunities are starting to appear. Watch this space!

My roaming office life has lead me to become a coffee connoisseur of LA's West side. After frequenting the Montana Ave haunts of Creation and Groundworks and I'm now firmly entrenched in the Abbot Kinney scene. Minottis, Zinque, Toms, GTA, Intelligencia all pack a decent punch. No one seems to have the coffee / brunch combo thing going on though.  I met up with a friend for brunch at the lively Brick and Mortar cafe on Main Street. The sour, brown liquid they poured out a drip dispenser would be laughed out of any decent cafe in NZ.

Fitness is a big focus here in LA.  With the great weather everyday there is no excuse to get outside and move around. I have spent most weekends biking between Santa Monica and Venice.  And a decent game of beach volley ball on a Saturday afternoon as well. I am looking forward to more beach culture as summer starts to wind up. Living on Montana Ave in Santa Monica meant I was close to the infamous stairs at the end of 4th Ave. Bounding up and down the 200 odd steps is a great work out and you arrive at the top with your heart jumping out of your chest.  Its not just a killer work out it is also great people watching. Fake boobs bouncing, wannabe entertainment moguls yapping on their phones or pumped-up actors keeping in shape for an upcoming role.  Or just low key kiwis who are settling in to the area. It can really be a snapshot of LA life.

   

It's not all palm trees and sunshine though. At times it can be a scary and unforgiving place. There are dark parts to town and you need to keep your wits about you. Getting pulled over by the Police for running a stop sign was not ideal and gave me a wake up. Especially when I didn't have any insurance or a Californian licence.  Luckily I was able to sweet talk the officer with my kiwi accent and bamboozle her with tales of waiting in line for the DMV to get my registrations in order, which was of course the truth. It does take a while to get things processed as one thing waits on the next - be it social security registration, drivers licence, or proof of mailing address.  I got let off with a slap on the hand but it encouraged me to get my admin in order to avoid further issues.

Overall I haven't been happier settling into this crazy creative city. I definitely have a new respect for anyone who has moved overseas to start a new life. The admin, the homesickness, missing friends and family, and the twists and turns can all be balanced out with the adventure, the new friends to meet and the freedom of a blank canvas on which to build a new chapter on. I'm looking forward to the coming summer and being more settled to continue to make the most of everything on offer.

Waking up in Mexico

You know those mythical stories about going out for the night and waking up in Mexico?

Well that happened to me last weekend.

It started with a casual Friday night catch up at renown burger joint Father Office's in Santa Monica. I was taking my friend Alice from Amsterdam to enjoy the famous succulent patties and cleansing ales.  We were joined by another friend Jordan who was in town from NZ pitching a movie. Next thing another friend Rees turned up. Rees had been in LA for over a year and considers himself a bit of a local now.

Maybe it was the excitement of Friday night as he enthusiastically ran us through his week at work, with a mischievous smile present throughout. When Alice suggested a round of tequila shots, Rees joked we just go to Mexico to have one. 'It is only an hour and half drive after all?' he toyed with us. Jordan and Alice, both visitors to town with no real plans for the coming days were quick to sign up. His off-the-cuff idea that had suddenly become a real option.

I was not interested in going to Mexico. I had a pool party to attend the next day, then was moving into a new flat on Sunday. I was in a good routine with fitness, life admin of settling into LA. But how often do you get the chance to go to Mexico? After dragging my heels for the next 20 minutes while my comrades persuaded me, I soon too caved in.

We spent the next hour running around the westside to pick up basic supplies from each others homes. Passports, swimming attire and flip flops were bundled into backpacks. It was after midnight that we set off on the 405 south towards San Diego.

About 4am our driver Rees started hitting the wall. He finally conceeded that the drive was longer that 1.5 hrs and then admitted that the border didn't open until 6am. We would have to kill some time. It was now my time to take over leadership of this mission I had hours early tried to avoid.  I suggested we call into Denny's for a pit stop. I avoided any eye contact with the late night diners, not wanting to align myself with any creatures that exist at Denny's off the freeway in the early hours of Saturday morning.  We had a quick regroup and it was decided to find a room for the night. The Best Western was not the most glamourous digs but served a purpose and provided a chance to refresh and recharge.

We were up mid morning and back on the road towards the border. It seemed like a lifetime ago that this random crew had all met at Father's Office to toast the weekend. Soon we were in the tight traffic but no hold ups crossing the border at Tijuana. Our adventure had begun.

Hunger was kicking in as we drove past numerous taco shacks and markets but nothing that looked particularly accommodating.  I'm not sure what were looking for - Taco Bell? The highway soon turned inland so we hugged the mountains high up on dusty rugged, terrain. You can see why the US Army fought tooth and nail for the California state but stopped after hitting the Rio Grande, seeing little value in the barren lands below the future border.

Soon we arrived in the port town of Ensanade about 90 mins south of the border.  By this time we were clearly ravenous and thirsty.  It was here were were able to strip off and have a quick snack and mohjito by a resort pool. Rooms were fully booked so we ventured into town and found the St Nicholas resort. A lazy day by the pool ensued. Euro beats simmered underneath as a spring-break type crowd frolicked in the water. I wouldn't have want to be anywhere else as we sent pictures to jealous friends and family confirming yes we were actually in Mexico!

After a late afternoon snooze we showered up and hit the main strip. It reminded me of nights out in Thailand a little - big thumping clubs with Reggaeton music, local hustlers peddling homemade tequila, street merchants pointing and proding us towards dated discoteques. We found a little Tacqueria Bar and parked up ordering a decent serving of tacos. The food was simple - juicy beef sprinkled with fresh salsa, home-made, bearing various degrees of heat.  Portly waiters who were only too happy to pour shots of tequila and deliver us ice cold Pacficos. This was Mexico.

  

Arising Sunday Rees decided he would head back to LA and the three of us decided to stay south of the border.  After an interesting breakfast of waffles - both sweet and savoury - served possibly with the worst customer service I had come across, it was time to hit the markets. Jordan stocked up on full cowboy attire, complete with gun holster. Alice admired the mexican-spun bags and other nick nacks for friends in LA, the ones she had discarded for our fine company. I found a cute litte Mexican mamacita dress for my niece Beth. We wandered the quaint port town, sampling refreshing coconut water along with the salty and sour cerveche from a bustling cart surrounded by tourists and locals alike.

After some more pool time it was back out to grab some dinner and another squeeze of the nightlife. Fresh guacamole and crisp corn chips, with crunchy fish tacos set us up for more Doc Equis. Then to famous saloon bar 'Hussongs' which claims to have invented the margarita back in the 1930's. Sawdust on the floor, buckets of beer on the tables - this was the real deal. A traditional mari-archi band thumped loudly from rusty, worn instruments. I can't think of a more iconic and original bar. It was like you were back in the turn of century with your horse tied up outside ready for a gun fight with locals loitering in the dark, dusty alleys.

We found a Margarita bar, smoked cigars and slowly shoot tequila until we all had a warm glow. Alice as hitting her straps and took over leadership that night, making the most of her spring holiday before returning to. She proceeded to get a sleeve of Day of the Dead-style tattoos which actually quite suited her. Avoiding any sort of trouble on the seedy streets we made it back to our accommodation in one piece.

Next morning we dragged ourselves out for more shopping and breakfast at 'Gringo Corner' before making the long journey back to LA. I dozed off to sleep on the bus as 'Twilight - Breaking Dawn' (in Spanish subtitles nonetheless) blared in front of me. We departed the bus in Tijuana and crossed through with the throngs of Mexicans carrying bags of local fare. After a hour in line we reached the US Border Control who grumpily asked what I was carrying back across the border. The Cuban cigars in my bag niggled my conscience like a stone in my shoe. But I smiled and answered politely before being was ushered through the border. The American side appeared pristine and glistened with the sparkly glow of a Hollywood smile. Ting! Shiny trams, palm trees and McDonalds but 50 meters from the border reminded me we were back in the safe hands of the U S of A.

The tram took us San Diego and after a quick beer in the polished Gaslamp District we were on the train to LA. The three-hour trip snaked its way towards downtown LA, arriving just before midnight. Up to 10 years ago you probably wouldn't be caught waiting outside Union Station in the middle of the night but the city has re-gentrified this part of town. We said our goodbyes as I uber-ed back to the western beaches to begin a new chapter moving into my flat in Venice.

I was glad I made the decision to make a mercy dash to the border. So many laughs, shared with an inquisitive bunch of friends.  Food fresh from the basket of its conception. Served by generous hosts with warm hearts, perhaps due to copious tequila shots? Life is about those random moments I'm glad I took that leap of faith. A great cast, with characters not out of place in a movie.

Now theres an idea...

#LIFE

Coachella 2014. There and Back Again.

Im often asked which is the best festival experience. Glastonbury was always hands down. The history. The vibe. The diverse acts. The size. The journey.

But after two weeks in the Palm Springs desert recently, I think Coachella is not far behind. Like all of them - the experience comes at a cost. Not just to your wallet but your legs, throat, liver. Friendships. Reality.

If Weekend One was partying and festivities, the second one felt a bit like work. If you can call it that! I was lucky enough to receive an artist pass from my friend Bjorn who was tour manager for Netsky. After tossing up whether I was ready for another weekend in the desert, it seemed like too good an opportunity to pass up. After grabbing a strong coffee in Silverlake I soon hustled a ride with some kiwi musicians living in LA.  Getting dropped off at the Indian Wells Tennis Center to pick up my ticket, I found a ride to the venue and came in the VIP entrance.

The artist pass gave access to backstage festivities as musicians, agents, managers and friends gathered around riders from buckets of ice, enjoying the limited hospitality and industry chat. Large TV's broadcast the festival while people chomped on the free ice creams on offer. Everyone seemed friendly and professional, all with a purpose and confidence warranted of being backstage at such an iconic festival. I bumped into Amanda Dunbar who worked for R&V and was a working for a charity on site. She offered me a place in her tent in the staff campsite which was an ideal accommodation option, just a stone's throw from the main entrance.

I took the long way around the outside of the festival and was able to get access to watch Capital Cities from the side of stage.  Dillon Francis was warming things up in the Sahara Tent, bringing out Martin Garrix – the DJ of the moment. The Rose Garden was a divine enclosure with mixologists and cocktails. A large dinner party was taking place in the unique setting amongst the thorns. I had not even known it existed from previous attendances.

From there it was back to the main stage to watch Queens of the Stone Age. They had remained elusive from me for sometime. Heavy, tight, grunty with Josh Homme in full control of some of the best session musicians around. The drummer especially prominant. I now understand the respect and appreciate the hype! Backstage I ran into Boris and his girlfriend along with Bridget one of the singers from Rudimental. We shared a golf cart around to Outdoor stage to watch Pharrell. The guest pit was full but we scrambled around back behind the catering until we found a tent to jump through and found a possie. He had an eventful week in LA with Disclosure, Rudimental. Ed Sheeran, and Ellie Goulding all getting up to mischief. Along with meetings with top line producers.  Exciting times ahead.  Meanwhile as we conversed Pharrell dropped his smash hits Get Lucky, Blurred Lines and Happy bringing our Usher and Jay Z in the process! He seemed a lot more confident and on point than playing in the sand storm the week before.

Pharell / Jay Z - Coachella 2014

  

The Artists pass gave access to the pit so I was super excited to catch Muse again.  I was able to see the guitar god that is Matt Bellamy from about 10 meters away. I studied Matt intricately on the guitar to find a fault but to no avail. Guitars and bass were changed each song to remain in key. The balls of the band is really bassist Chris Holm who brings the rock with his thundering distorted bass. Bellamy’s guitar work is ridiculous. His singing is the only thing that perhaps niggles me, but his pompous rock opera-like vocals covers 4 octaves not unlike his idol Freddy Mercury. It is unlikely to see a more complete musician and I left suitably inspired as Saturday night came to a close.

Muse - Madness

Staying on site meant I was up at 8am as the sun beat down our tent. If that didn’t get me out of bed the sound of Arcade Fire sound-checking soon did. I was over to the campground to check out the set up and have some breakfast from the long line of food vendors.  Fresh Fruit, avocado on toast and iced coffee was a great way to start the day. Meanwhile the young campers were fueling up on breakfast burritos ready for the long day ahead.

I arrived just after gates opened and caught up with kiwi friend Tom Worley who was managing the PA on the main stage. It has become an annual visit to the front of house to catch up with him and hear the industry and festival goss. The music programming of the main stage is a bit like R&V with more reggae and funk acts in the afternoon so saw fantastic trombonist band from New Orleans along with reggae / ska Fishbone.

I was into the vortex of the Yuma Tent at 2pm to see Martinez Bros whose mixes have been the soundtrack to my trip so far courtesy of my friend Trent Bowler. Their deep progressive house is all the rage at cutting edge festivals like BPM in Mexico.  Poolside and STRFKRS provided a chilled warm-up to the evenings festivities. Frank Turner is one artist I have admired for some time and his band of punk troubadours did not disappoint. Although I probably would rather see them in a muddy UK field or at a rowdy pub after a few pints. On to The 1975 whose dreamy mumbly indie rock seems unchallenged by the current crop of bands coming through.

 Frank Turner - Photosynthesis

1975 - Chocolate

Poolside - Harvest Moon

STRFCKRS - Girls Just Wanna Have Fun

I was able to sync up with some kiwi friends to watch The Naked and Famous. Definitely had a shiver down the spine as they dropped their hit Young Blood. Amazing to think a little band from NZ playing to a huge crowd on the main stage. With the success of them and Lorde anything is possible!

After checking out Little Dragon from side of stage, I found Netsky crew over at the catering. A well stocked and healthy buffet kept everyone fed and prepped for the night ahead. The band were chilled, probably excited to end their run and have a break. We had a couple of drinks back stage with Rudimental who had just come off a memorable performance in the Mojave tent.

As Boris and crew began their pre match rituals I popped out to see Arcade Fire with the kiwis. They began with the well publicized Paft Dunk spoof. At first it was an OMG moment but the joke soon fell flat. Perhaps a weekend or even a year too late in my eyes. Loved seeing the band again though. Ready to Start and We Exist were two songs that stood out. And my new favourite Afterlife.

Arcade Fire - Afterlife

I awoke again to the sun beating down. Poking head out of the tent the carpark. Amanda was not due to finish work until the mid afternoon. I started the long walk to town to grab some lunch and wait for her before making the trip back into LA.

Thanks Coachella. What weekend to do again? I seriously think the double header is the way to go. The first weekend is all the hype. The celebs. The special guests. The intensity that the festival lacks as a whole compared to their European counterparts.

Then the second week is perfect to attend in an industry / music lover capacity.  The crowd feels more real and intimate. Less sceney. Easy to pop between stages. The artists are more relaxed too. You can catch up on seeing acts you hadn’t seen the week before.

The only thing I would try and do different is stay as close to the venue as possible. The transport each night is a ball ache and can really drag at the end of the night. Also far away from distractions of getting caught at a pool party for too long!