And so... I continue.
With the goodies in my bag, we decided to shop in Santa Barbara before returning to the ranch.
I kind of felt bad for feeling the way I did towards Aris after the favour she did getting my smoke. However, she told Shiba to be aware of a psycho killer who had run away from the 'madhouse' (as she put it) nearby and the chance he could be hiding in our surround! Now, you tell me... Who would say such a thing?
When we passed by Aris' boutique on the way back to our hotel, she was talking to a lady and introduced her to us as Linda. When Shiba realised Linda was the woman to see for a colonic irrigation, she did not hesitate to make an appointment for both of us, later that evening. I was too busy shopping and only got there to hear the end of the conversation which puzzled me, however, I agreed to it.
Once in the car, I asked Shiba: "What the hell's a colonic?"
Shiba answered: "Colonic irrigation Darling. It's something up your bum! It's good for you. Do you trust me or not?"
"Sure I trust you. But wait... Up my bum?" I questioned but my friend was too eager to attend the appointment and I agreed to go.
Linda's practice was in a room, in a motel-like apartment block behind a driveway. Rather a spooky place, particularly as it got darker but... So be it. I parked behind the building in between a row of cars and told Shiba to go and begin her session while I stayed behind to roll a joint. I had forgotten how strong the smoke in California is. It was getting dark and pouring rain outside. I got out and walked to the door of Linda's practice, a little wobbly. Entered and was told from behind the screen where Shiba was lying on a doctor's bed, to sit on the chair at the entrance.
I could obviously clearly hear Linda telling Shiba to relax and breathe in and out. So I also got busy practising deep breaths. The sound of my taking gasps of air got the girls laughing.
Not sure how long passed before Linda said: "Ok Haldita, your turn."
She handed me a new robe to change into and pointed at the door leading to the shower room. I obeyed and came back to lie down sideways on the bed when I saw a plastic, clear tube attached to an aquarium-like machine half filled with water. At this stage, I panicked and held Linda's wrist firmly and begged: "Can I've a facial instead? Pleaaaase."
Shiba who was standing nearby laughing her head off, asked whether I had smoked my waki baki. My friend knows me well.
The session was quite an intense experience. To say the least. It was all about breathing in, breathing out while your stomach gets pumped in and out. At one stage, Shiba stood by my bed, holding my hand, trying to refrain from laughing. I said: "This really feels like giving birth now!"
With the goodies in my bag, we decided to shop in Santa Barbara before returning to the ranch.
I kind of felt bad for feeling the way I did towards Aris after the favour she did getting my smoke. However, she told Shiba to be aware of a psycho killer who had run away from the 'madhouse' (as she put it) nearby and the chance he could be hiding in our surround! Now, you tell me... Who would say such a thing?
When we passed by Aris' boutique on the way back to our hotel, she was talking to a lady and introduced her to us as Linda. When Shiba realised Linda was the woman to see for a colonic irrigation, she did not hesitate to make an appointment for both of us, later that evening. I was too busy shopping and only got there to hear the end of the conversation which puzzled me, however, I agreed to it.
Once in the car, I asked Shiba: "What the hell's a colonic?"
Shiba answered: "Colonic irrigation Darling. It's something up your bum! It's good for you. Do you trust me or not?"
"Sure I trust you. But wait... Up my bum?" I questioned but my friend was too eager to attend the appointment and I agreed to go.
Linda's practice was in a room, in a motel-like apartment block behind a driveway. Rather a spooky place, particularly as it got darker but... So be it. I parked behind the building in between a row of cars and told Shiba to go and begin her session while I stayed behind to roll a joint. I had forgotten how strong the smoke in California is. It was getting dark and pouring rain outside. I got out and walked to the door of Linda's practice, a little wobbly. Entered and was told from behind the screen where Shiba was lying on a doctor's bed, to sit on the chair at the entrance.
I could obviously clearly hear Linda telling Shiba to relax and breathe in and out. So I also got busy practising deep breaths. The sound of my taking gasps of air got the girls laughing.
Not sure how long passed before Linda said: "Ok Haldita, your turn."
She handed me a new robe to change into and pointed at the door leading to the shower room. I obeyed and came back to lie down sideways on the bed when I saw a plastic, clear tube attached to an aquarium-like machine half filled with water. At this stage, I panicked and held Linda's wrist firmly and begged: "Can I've a facial instead? Pleaaaase."
Shiba who was standing nearby laughing her head off, asked whether I had smoked my waki baki. My friend knows me well.
The session was quite an intense experience. To say the least. It was all about breathing in, breathing out while your stomach gets pumped in and out. At one stage, Shiba stood by my bed, holding my hand, trying to refrain from laughing. I said: "This really feels like giving birth now!"
Linda admitted: "I've never laughed so much at my practice! Haldita, I've never met anyone like you! Now, go back, have a hot herbal tea and water and don't eat anything till tomorrow."
Upon arrival at the ranch, amid the boundless grounds of San Ysidro Ranch with no one in sight, all we could hear was the sound of heavy rainfall upon the leaves and the creek running close by. We recalled Aris' story of the psycho running loose in the area. Frightened, we left the bags of shopping in the boot of the car parked outside our villa and ran inside without looking back, locking the door behind us.
Got on the phone immediately to order four margaritas! Not one, but two each and gulped them down like there was no tomorrow. After the thirst, came hunger, so we ordered chicken, chips and a cheesecake. Oh, dear! With the gale going on outside, as we slipped under the duvet, stuffed with food, a little shaken from the psycho story, I called reception where the manager picked up the phone.
Got on the phone immediately to order four margaritas! Not one, but two each and gulped them down like there was no tomorrow. After the thirst, came hunger, so we ordered chicken, chips and a cheesecake. Oh, dear! With the gale going on outside, as we slipped under the duvet, stuffed with food, a little shaken from the psycho story, I called reception where the manager picked up the phone.
I said, in a distressed tone: "This is a rather strange request I know but we were told there's a psychopath loose in the vicinity, if we scream, will anyone hear us? Could you please keep an eye on us?"
The manager tried to hold back his amusement at my story and assured us he shall keep a watch. About ten minutes later, in bed, staring at the entrance door, I noticed a hand waving from the glass edging at the top of the door and screamed at the top of my voice. Shiba screamed after me and like two children, we jumped out of bed to hug each other, in fright.
Two minutes passed and the loud sound of the phone rang, I picked up.
"Yes..." I said trembling.
"Sorry Madam, it's the manager here, it was me waving to assure you I was watching over. Hope I didn't scare you."
You bet you did, was what I wanted to answer but instead burst into laughter and apologised for our childish behaviour. The next day, we decided to drive back to LA. Back at the Peninsula Hotel.
Once at the reception to check in, they informed us the hotel was full and they had upgraded us to a grand suite by the pool, like a villa on the ground floor.
We entered the suite and immediately, I went to open the curtains to notice cars parked outside in the pitch-dark street.
I told Shiba: "Do you think the psycho could have followed us to LA?" And as we both laughed at the very silly idea, I called the reception and asked if we could be replaced in one of the rooms in the main building. Only a few minutes later, the manager of the Peninsula knocked at our door.
He came in to say: "Madam... In all the years working in the hotel industry, I've never had a customer ask to be downgraded when upgraded to a suite!"
The manager tried to hold back his amusement at my story and assured us he shall keep a watch. About ten minutes later, in bed, staring at the entrance door, I noticed a hand waving from the glass edging at the top of the door and screamed at the top of my voice. Shiba screamed after me and like two children, we jumped out of bed to hug each other, in fright.
Two minutes passed and the loud sound of the phone rang, I picked up.
"Yes..." I said trembling.
"Sorry Madam, it's the manager here, it was me waving to assure you I was watching over. Hope I didn't scare you."
You bet you did, was what I wanted to answer but instead burst into laughter and apologised for our childish behaviour. The next day, we decided to drive back to LA. Back at the Peninsula Hotel.
Once at the reception to check in, they informed us the hotel was full and they had upgraded us to a grand suite by the pool, like a villa on the ground floor.
We entered the suite and immediately, I went to open the curtains to notice cars parked outside in the pitch-dark street.
I told Shiba: "Do you think the psycho could have followed us to LA?" And as we both laughed at the very silly idea, I called the reception and asked if we could be replaced in one of the rooms in the main building. Only a few minutes later, the manager of the Peninsula knocked at our door.
He came in to say: "Madam... In all the years working in the hotel industry, I've never had a customer ask to be downgraded when upgraded to a suite!"
Didn't quite have the heart, or the courage to explain we were running away from a non-existent psycho! Haha. So, we gratefully accepted the offer and settled in our new suite by the pool, blocking the street view with the drawn curtain.
On the first day back, we ordered a car to take us to the new Getty Centre. Got giggling at the sight of the Rolls Royce pulling up in the hotel driveway while the doorman opened the back doors for us to get in. At the Getty Centre, we let the driver go and spent a couple of hours walking around the grounds, admiring the dramatic, modern architecture with the tranquillity of its garden. In and out, visit over, we caught a yellow cab to take us to the Westwood area (Where the stars shop) of Los Angeles.
We got off at the site of the first deli and got seated outside, under the shade, where smoking was permitted. When we came to order food and a drink, the waitress informed us that alcoholic drinks can only be served inside the premises! So that meant, you stand in the doorway, holding a drink inside and a cigarette on the outside. Very funny. We settled with the offer of eating and smoking. However, a margarita cocktail at the bar before our outdoor seating seemed a great idea.
As we finished our food, a male character, not so tall, with dark hair, very actor-like (he wasn't), dressed casually in jeans (what else) stopped at our table and asked if we could spare him a cigarette. He seemed pleasant so we handed him the packet of Marlboro lights with a white tip and a lighter. His approach was the all-American friendly manner.
Pauli used to live in LA, running his limousine business, before moving to Chicago where he now resided. He had only flown down to LA that day to attend the funeral of his 16-year-old goddaughter who had been killed in a drink-and-drive accident. Quite a tragic story. The picture of the girl he showed us was angelic. He left to join his friend Captain Chaos; a midnight radio DJ at the bar inside and asked us to join them after our meal.
On the first day back, we ordered a car to take us to the new Getty Centre. Got giggling at the sight of the Rolls Royce pulling up in the hotel driveway while the doorman opened the back doors for us to get in. At the Getty Centre, we let the driver go and spent a couple of hours walking around the grounds, admiring the dramatic, modern architecture with the tranquillity of its garden. In and out, visit over, we caught a yellow cab to take us to the Westwood area (Where the stars shop) of Los Angeles.
We got off at the site of the first deli and got seated outside, under the shade, where smoking was permitted. When we came to order food and a drink, the waitress informed us that alcoholic drinks can only be served inside the premises! So that meant, you stand in the doorway, holding a drink inside and a cigarette on the outside. Very funny. We settled with the offer of eating and smoking. However, a margarita cocktail at the bar before our outdoor seating seemed a great idea.
As we finished our food, a male character, not so tall, with dark hair, very actor-like (he wasn't), dressed casually in jeans (what else) stopped at our table and asked if we could spare him a cigarette. He seemed pleasant so we handed him the packet of Marlboro lights with a white tip and a lighter. His approach was the all-American friendly manner.
Pauli used to live in LA, running his limousine business, before moving to Chicago where he now resided. He had only flown down to LA that day to attend the funeral of his 16-year-old goddaughter who had been killed in a drink-and-drive accident. Quite a tragic story. The picture of the girl he showed us was angelic. He left to join his friend Captain Chaos; a midnight radio DJ at the bar inside and asked us to join them after our meal.
This is to be continued still as I have to rush to dinner. Ciao for now...
