Category: Places

They are still amongst us.

Who? Well, dragons (draco dracus).

Where? In Griffith Park, of course.

Proof? Here:

It is always fun to go and see film locations everybody knows. This time the trip was up to the “Bat Cave,” just around the corner. Literally around the corner, as the most famous cave of all caves sits right there in Griffith Park.

Here it is:

Not too exciting? Well, then take a look  here – with Batman and Robin in action. The clip is short, only 3:31 minutes and quite entertaining, because one sees a few examples of other films, where the Bronson Caves figure too.

To name only a few, scenes in these films and tv series were shot there:

Flash Gordon

Star Trek

MacGyver

I Am A Fugitive On A Chain Gang (1932)

Sagebrush Trail (1933)

Julius Caesar (1953)

The Searchers (1956)

Invasion Of The Body Snatchers (1956)

Have Rocket, Will Travel (1959)

Ride The High Country (1962)

Lost Horizon (1973)

The Scorpion King (2002)

As an aside – whenever one sees snow in these movies, it is artificial. Griffith Park might sport famous scenery, but when it comes to snow, the props people have to get to work.

Back in the days Silver Lake was a desirable location for film studios. We are talking 1910s to 1930s here and the area where Silver Lake is situated today was – well, let’s say rural. Plenty of space, plenty of sun – ideal for building studios and filming. From roughly the 1920s on it also became quite the place to live, because the city encouraged developers to build there. The lovely hills and the Silver Lake reservoir as a focal point served as an additional lure. With the terrain being as hilly as it is, a lot of houses were reached by staircases being built in lieu of “proper” streets and they are still there today.

The most famous one is this one:

Yes, everybody has seen it – that is where “The Music Box” with Stan and Ollie was filmed.

Many of the staircases are beautifully kept, with tiny gardens planted left and right, and nearly all of them are cool and shady.

The reward after climbing up – and up – and up a bit more – is an amazing view over a green and hilly neighborhood so very much unlike the stereotypical idea many out-of-towners have of the city.

But psssst, we better not tell them, or we will have hordes of tourists trampling up and down the staircases. Or maybe not – the staircases of Silver Lake might be a tad too quiet and serene for them.

I used to not mind flying. In fact I clocked up many a mile, both on business and private travel. Of course that was in the good old days prior to excessive “security measures.” Even though I am all for security – well, who isn’t, we all want to arrive safely at our destination – some of the measures border on the ridiculous in my opinion. Hence, if possible, I avoid flying. Especially from and to major airports. I am not a glutton for cruel and unnecessary torture in the form of demeaning demands one has to oblige and an endless waste of time.

Which does not mean that I am no longer interested in aviation. In fact, Southern California and aviation go hand in hand. Aviation was one of the growth factors, an industry which drew people from all over the US to come here and find work. On average I would assume that those folks had more luck than those who came here to seek their luck in that other huge industry, the movie business. But that is another story altogether.

Anyway, aviation. Airports. Naw, not LAX. The only nice thing I have to say about that location is that one finds the Encounter-Restaurant there. I mean the very first airport with a paved runway west of the Rocky Mountains. That would be Grand Central Airport in Glendale. Although the runway existed since 1923, the actual terminal was not finished until 1928, when the airport was officially opened. It operated until 1959 and was then closed, as the runway was too short for jet planes. As a funny aside, the site, where LAX opened in 1946 for commercial air travel, was called Mines Field. And yes, I can just image what a smooth ride landing and taking off from a runway must have been with a name like that.

So Grand Central Airport closed down. The terminal is still standing, although it is crumbling a bit around the edges. The details of the tower are quite, quite beautiful.

No, in comparison LAX does not quite cut it. No winged creatures to be found there, decorating the tower.

11 AM. 99°F (36°C). Heatwave.

Option # 1: Shutter up the house, crank up the A/C, swear at the weather.

Option # 2: Wander down to Home, sit beside the water fountain in the shade, watch the fish swimming around, have a delicious cool drink and enjoy the summer.

Guess what I did?

One of the nearest getaways for Angelenos for a few days of peace and quiet is Catalina Island.

Surprisingly enough most Angelenos I know have never been there. They know about it, they always wanted to go there, but never got around to it. Might it be because Catalina is too easy to reach? After all, it takes only 45 minutes to drive to San Pedro (provided the hellhole on the 110, aka Downtown does not live up to its name) plus a bit more than one hour on a ferry or 15 minutes in a helicopter to get there. One can not milk that for stories of woe and strife getting to the desired destination. Unless the hellhole lives up to its name, which it does – occasionally – oh, the stories I could tell.

But I digress. Catalina Island is a small paradise some 20 miles off the coast, the largest of the Channel Islands. It is a rarity insofar as about 90 % of the island are a vast nature preserve, given over to flora and fauna. The Santa Catalina Island Conservancy does a good job here, a very, very good job. Thank you!

The best time to go and visit the island is outside of the main holiday season – until the beginning of May and after the end of September the crowds of visitors are comparatively small. During this off season even on a weekend one has the feeling to be far away from the pressures and demands of life on the mainland.

This is not a one-off moment:

It is a normal evening scene in Avalon (not during peak season, I have to admit).

Makes bracing the hellhole worthwhile, doesn’t it?

Sometimes a detail sums up the whole.

(Top of the Observatory in Griffith Park)

…this iron rule was brought back to mind sharply yesterday when once again a fire broke out in Griffith Park, near the Observatory. Thanks to the firefighters, who immediately set to work to battle the fire on the ground and with water from helicopters the fire was contained rather swiftly and the damage was minor, compared to the huge fire in May.

Even though they were in no immediate danger, all visitors at the Observatory (approx. 700) where evacuated and bussed to safety. It might even be that the odd tourist will forever entertain others at home with the story of  “how I escaped the raging fires in Los Angeles.”

But one should not joke about the current situation. The park, Los Angeles, the county, it is dry, dry, dry everywhere. So the danger of more fires is imminent and not always is this danger battled as swiftly as yesterday. None of us will forget the big fire in May – 820 acre (3.31 square kilometer) of Griffith Park were scorched, with the fires even threatening private residences, the Zoo, the Observatory and the Greek Theater.Thanks to the relentless work of the firefighters (not only from Los Angeles) none of these became a victim of the flames in the end, but it is heartbreaking to see large areas of the park with nothing left but ashes on the ground. Even today one can sniff the acrid smell in the air and the burned areas are still not open to the public.

One important lesson learned from all this is that it is imperative that residential areas surrounding the park have to be protected. The best way to do this is to clear a wide path between the brush areas and the houses, as can be seen in this photo:

The hills on the left side show part of the burned down area, on the right side one can see houses and adjacent to them a wide strip cleared from all brush – that is the fire protection strip, newly cleared and kept in shipshape order, because everybody knows that the next fire of this hot and dry summer will come.

Well, not quite, but the story is interesting enough.

This rather strange structure sits in the middle of the Mojave Desert, halfway between Los Angeles and Las Vegas, just a few miles outside of Barstow. Considering the temperatures last weekend passing by this spot (109 degrees Fahrenheit), a short stop to take a dip in the large artificial lake would have been very welcome. But no, that was not to be.

This place used to be called ‘Lake Dolores’, after the original owners wife and it can rightly be attributed to be the world’s first water park. Even though Dolores was still alive when the water park was built, she is dead now. So in a way, “Taj Mahal” is not too far fetched.

More details about “Lake Dolores” can be found here. The story of the place is quite fascinating and makes an astonishing read of the rise and fall of an enterprise from the 1950s to the 1990s.

Maybe one day the structure will be brought back into life. It is certainly well kept even after years of being out of operation. It looks as if one would only need to open the gates and start charging entrance fees and it would be up and running again. Even though I do not really like water parks, should it ever open again, I might go there, because I like the impossible.

And the world’s first water park in the middle of the Mojave Desert – can one imagine anything more impossible?

They have been around for 18 years now and they are still delightfully subversive and not at all PC. Although they do look slightly better kempt and less grumpy than in the beginning, they certainly are as dysfunctional, funny, yellow-skinned and in one instance blue-haired as ever.

Right. The Simpsons.

With the first feature film coming up, part of the promotion for said film was the introduction of 11 Kwik-E-Marts all over the US (with one in Canada). As this promotion runs for one month only, a quick trip to Burbank to one of the sites was in order.

Good job, I must say. But my favorite is the grafitti. It is so, so Simpsons!

D’oh.