Memories from a Californian adventure

A poem in honour of my trip to California…

Took a long time to get to California

Eleven hours on a jet plane.

When we arrived

I ran through the spring rain.

Took a detour down ol’ Skid Row

Sad souls in sorry states

Not somewhere you’d want to go.

Headed North on Route One

Sunsets, seals, the wild ocean.

Skipped down the boardwalk pier;

More burritos, another beer.

Time for San Fran’s Golden Gate

But it’s shrouded in mist,

Guess we got here too late.

No wonder they’re proud

Of Yosemite Falls,

Towering above, deafeningly loud.

Now through the desert,

Death Valley’s road

Stock up on gas, you’ll need a load.

Vegas was a sham, came home broke.

The table was rigged

Or too much rum and coke?

Onwards to boho Venice Beach,

Soya latte in hand.

As the sun sets on California

This distant land.

A bad poem about my recent road trip to California, where we drove up High Way One from Los Angeles to San Fran, through Yosemite, Death Valley, Vegas and then back to LA. The thing that struck me, aside from the amazing landscape, was a kind of emptiness to Los Angeles. It is a place where you can get anything you want (if you have money). An extreme example of consumerism coated in a thick layer of superficial human interaction that is very hard to break through. Or maybe that’s just me. Either way, I enjoyed my California road trippin’ and found plenty of cool little towns straight out of the Wild West and filmic roadside locations off the beaten track.

Death Valley
Soaking up the view at Death Valley