It’s 08.15 local, or 15.15 BST.
I’ve just crawled out of bed after 10 hours sleep; my body aches with with the kind of pain that only comes from being unconscious for a long period of time.
Or maybe a cryogenically-induced state of suspended animation.
The flight over was excellent; the United Airlines cabin-crew were brilliant, the 777-200 did what it was supposed to do and the inflight entertainment was a bizarre, but erm entertaining mix.
We started to record this week’s show in the departure lounge at LHR, we added a little more from 30,000′ and +500 miles an hour. We’ll finish it off today and publish it later.
There will be, obv, very little chat, but we will still carry four tracks.
En-route I watched ‘Sleeper’ which, despite it’s age, still made me laugh out loud several times.
‘Monsters Inc’ got itself watched again.
Also seen was the woefully pedestrian ‘The Tourist’, in which Depp and Jolie did nothing much whilst a pastiche of brilliantly scored orchestral music set the scene for the next turgid piece of dialogue, delivered against yet another internationally renown backdrop, for no really good reason.
However that pile of garbage was the perfect set up for the brilliant ‘Wild Target’, a funny, sharp action/comedy pic that cost less than 8% of ‘The Tourist’ and yet ‘Wild Target’ is a better film by slightly more than 150%. Bill Nighy delivers a perfect foil to the kooky character played by Emily Blunt.
Arrival at LAX produced no surprises and reinforced the bond between the UK and the US even further.
If you think that only the British customs and border patrol would have just three officers on duty to deal with a 777 full of sleepy, bewildered passengers, I need to tell you that’s how they swing in LAX too.
We picked up the car and got sold an upgrade, but we did talk the guy out of giving us an SUV.
Driving from LAX to E 7th Street was made difficult due to a couple of closed roads. We understand this was entirely due to Obama being in town. We’re seeing him for dinner tomorrow.
Soph had one brain explosion, three full-on heart attacks and two minor myocardial infarctions en route. I failed to hit anything even though a lot of other traffic was on the wrong side of the road. Cyclists and pedestrians don’t count, right?
On the way to the hotel we drove past Nakatomi Plaza/Century City. I was very disappointed that Alan Rickman wasn’t in residence; the police were most insistent that we leave as we were on private property.
The room is brilliant, as is the rest of the club. We’re on our own when we leave LA; picking up overnight accommodation as we go, but I wanted us to start off from a solid base. This place is it.
We ate in last night, the restaurant is pleasant and the kitchen gave me the perfect pasta-based dish; the cellar offered me some nice Rioja to accompany it.
And Soph got told ‘Gee, I love your accent’, but the chatting-up waiter dude.
Today, breakfast will be followed by us being camera-toting, microphone-wielding tourists, as we hit Hollywood.
And that’s it, really.
I hear that, back in the UK, there are still people who ‘don’t get’ the need to switch the voting system from First Past The Post to AV.
Presumably these are the same people who vote on X-Factor, Big Brother and Britain’s Got Talent – which are all, obv, AV methods of selecting the best candidate.
Because if Britain’s Got Talent used First Past The Post we would have elected a tap-dancing dog. And if that’s not a metaphor for ‘Vote Cameron’, I don’t know what is.