The next day I made my way toward Beverly Hills via my intuition. The progression of scenery from Washington Boulevard and Centinela Avenue to Beverly Glen was captivating. When I finally made it to Frida’s Mexican Restaurant it was clear that I was in Beverly Hills. Luckily, the menu’s prices were not as Beverly Hills as I thought they might be. During my meal a stray dog walked up to me, and was a lot cleaner than my family’s dogs. After lunch, I ventured toward Rodeo Drive to check out the tourist attractions and shops. Unlike lunch, the prices at these stores were very Beverly Hills. I only went in one store, and the prices of men’s ties were the reason--$230 plus.
Lastly, I followed my intuition toward the Hollywood Hills. The roads were windy and treacherous. I would drive miles without any stop signs or streetlights, and the speed of cars behind me were dangerously fast. I ventured through East Mulholland Drive and stopped along all of the scenic viewpoints. Tour vans, with convertible tops, would frequent the street, and I wonder what details the drivers knew that I did not. My stop before heading home was above the Hollywood Bowl. I have never attended a concert there, but the view of the Bowl and of the city, despite the smog, was still amazing. While my roundabout tour of West L.A. was long-winded and carried many identities, it was well worth it.
Photo: Art Flores