Jul. 9th, 2022

bigmacbear: Me in a leather jacket and Hockey Night in Canada ball cap, on a ferry with Puget Sound in background (Default)
SATURDAY
I woke up with Gary's alarm about 7:30 and noticed I'd slept better than the previous night. I showered and dressed and we had breakfast at IHOP across the street, then caught the train one stop to Pershing Square to meet our tour guide from the LA Conservancy. David is a nice-looking young black dude who works as an attorney and has lived in several locations near the area we were touring. Besides Gary and me, there was a middle-aged lady from Oregon and a tween-age boy from Arizona (guessing he's a member of her family on a visit). We walked around several blocks for about two and a half hours, visiting the Century Building, the Public Library, the Bunker Hill Steps (luckily there is a parallel set of escalators), the Angels Flight Railway (a short funicular connecting the Grand Central Market with the top of Bunker Hill), the Market itself, the Broadway theater district, the Bradbury Building (oldest commercial building in LA), and Biddy Mason Park (a reclaimed bit of land from the parcel owned by Mason, a woman of color who was freed by court order when her owner brought her from Mississippi to California, and purchased by her from the proceeds of her skills as a midwife).

The tour ended in the park; from there, we caught the bus to the post office to buy stamps for our postcards, and then returned to the Target mall (FigAt7th). We went down two levels to the food hall, and since I at least was more thirsty than hungry, we decided on Salata, a new conception of the salad bar. I asked for lots of fruit on my salad. We washed down our salads with Diet Dr. Pepper. After lunch we went upstairs to Target for shirts and socks, and I threw in a couple of bottles of cold Coke Zero because I was still thirsty. We walked back to the hotel, stripped down, and watched the tail end of the Portland Timbers at Seattle Sounders soccer match. (Portland won, 3-0.)

After filling out postcards, we left just after five to visit Sunset Junction where the opening sequence for Where the Bears Are was recorded. I forgot my phone and Gary couldn't find the mailbox to send the cards, but we managed to meet up at the train station. A few stops into the ride, a tall skinny dude hauled all his possessions onto the train, including a bicycle, a baby carriage, and a big suitcase. He was accompanied by a petite Asian lady who changed clothes right there on the train. They were still there when we left the train at Vermont and Sunset. We walked around the corner to catch the #2 bus a few blocks down Sunset to the Junction.

When we arrived, we noticed the sign was partially obscured by flowers and foliage, so I got pictures as best I could. Gary pointed out the original video was taken in 2012 or even 2011. Next we crossed the street for dinner at the Black Cat which was the site of the first documented LGBTQ+ protest in February 1967 (stemming from a New Year's Day raid). The place was busy but not crowded, and we were taken to a fancy banquette in the back. Our server, Edward, was rather cute, with longish tousled hair. Gary had steamed mussels and I had crab tagine (with crabmeat and greens piled high on a crusty slice of bread) and a rosé cider. As we prepared to leave, I noticed a cute cub exiting the men's room as I was entering, and we saw him again as we waited for a bus right outside the restaurant. (Gary, noting his lady: Oh, hell no.) The next #4 bus that arrived showed as "on detour" on the route sign. I asked if it was still connecting to the Red Line and, when the driver said it was, we boarded. As it happened, the detour consisted of traveling up Sunset instead of Santa Monica Blvd. So when we arrived at Vermont and Sunset, it wasn't clear where we would exit until the driver signaled a left turn on Vermont and then stopped on the far side of the intersection to let us off.

Our next destination was City Hall. We took the train from Vermont/Sunset to Civic Center and walked the several blocks to the iconic building. There was a row of tents pitched on the sidewalk on each of two sides of the park across the street from City Hall. I got a bit tired of walking, and discovered that the Silver Line bus stopped across the street from City Hall and again at Flower and 7th, which is where we would emerge from the subway had we taken the train. It was a slower trip but saved much walking.

When we entered the hotel lobby, Gary asked about dropping off the postcards to be mailed and the clerk accepted them; then he asked about getting more shampoo and body wash (we'd used all those that came with the room) and the clerk was unable to find any, but said housekeeping would deliver them to our room. The rest of the evening was spent packing up, watching the news, and preparing for bed by 11:30.

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