After Hollywood Hill, we headed back to Hollywood Boulevard for a much-needed dose of tacky souvenirs and postcards.
Being in L.A was very fun for me, the same way it is for an American going to Paris, I guess. I read so many mystery and thriller books taking place in that city, including Jonathan Kellerman’s books, that I felt I knew it. Yet it surprised me. For instance, I had no idea it was so spread out: once you fly over the mountains bordering the city, it never seems to end. It is also very flat, there are only a few tall buildings downtown, the rest just look like endless suburbs.
The city is also quite laid-back. I mean, here we were, strolling the Walk of Fame, but between the many tourists and the tacky souvenirs (think hundreds of plastic yellow Oscar statues) you would have never thought this was one of the movie mecca. Not that I care much about the show-business, whenever I read People Magazine (usually at the hair salon) I can never tell who is who. But still.