The Flight Out

Having to wake up extremely early in the morning is never a pleasant experience, but for whatever reason when you’ve been waiting to go on holiday for just under a year it becomes so much easier. Once I’d gotten to Heathrow Airport the excitement just built, seeing all the people I’d get to know, all equally as ready for the trip as I was made me feel as part of an exclusive little social club – Those Kids That Went To LA. 

Stuck in LA traffic, a reoccurring theme of this trip.
After 3 awful airplane meals, an ignorant passenger in the seat in front and an 11 hour flight I’d finally touched down in the U.S. LAX to be precise. Even the airport was gorgeous having recently been revamped, and when we stepped outside into the city the air was humid and I felt gross, but I loved it. It was something about the airports aesthetic, the blue skies and the good vibes that appealed to me so much.

One blisteringly hot coach journey that was much longer than it should have been meant that our hotel rooms were secured at The Sportsmen’s Lodge. This hotel was one of the nicest I’ve stayed in: A clean, modern lobby that played classic films and an unbelievably nice fire pit suited perfectly for evening chat. Ralph’s was the next port of call, then soon after a quick dive in the pool and finally bed.

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The pool at the Sportsmen’s Lodge.

After a long day of travelling across several time zones and a couple of continents, bed was calling my name. So to sleep I went, eager to properly begin my adventure in Los Angeles.


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