I'd heard LA was quintessential America and from the moment I've stepped off the plane I've felt like I've been dropped onto a movie set. From the cab drivers, to the street artists, to the homeless people that litter Venice Beach, in a way it almost feels like I'm not seeing anything new. Everything is exactly as I pictured it, which is not a bad thing, but it's almost eery.
Our Armenian-come-American cab driver gave us a slight hint of what to expect as we grinded to a halt on one of LA's sprawling freeways. "Welcome to LA", he laughed, before explaining the unusual Sunday afternoon gridlock was for most the part caused by a massive exodus of the Los Angeles populace heading towards Venice Beach, where we were to spend out first few days, to make the most of the picture-perfect weather.
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