As I type this I am lying in a very big bed in The Hilton at LA Airport. I am on my stop over to London. The flight was good – Air New Zealand staff were brilliant and I cannot recommend them more. As I have been working with the medical team for my creams, I have been getting lots of assistance like help with my baggage (lots of it), extra blankets and water, and extra leg room. My skin handled the 15 hour flight from Melbourne to New Los Angeles much better than I expected. New Zealand airport is small. Everyone I met was friendly. There is a lot of merino wool, lanolin and placenta for sale at ridiculous prices. I just bought three honey sachiets to ward off my aeroplane cold. Los Angeles airport is huge. I took a sneaky photo of the sign at Customs and then heard a woman say “no photos allowed”. My fingerprints wouldn’t work on the scanner but my retinas were fine. The Customs lady asked me all about my skin in two minutes. What happened? Why? Who in my family has it? Did they tell me the name of it? What can they do about it? Whether I’m here for treatment. She was Very Official so I answered all her questions. Quickly and politely. When asked what I do for work I said “I am a writer”. Yes I am. Everyone is friendly here too. And beautiful. I took a bus trip to a small shopping centre near Manhattan Beach (the beach is stunning) and so many people on the bus talked to me. I had not eaten since I am not sure when, and the last thing I ate was a mouthful of some really ordinary eggs and a glass of champagne while descending over America. So I was famished. I ordered some cheesy fries and fish tacos and a cocktail. My god. The cheesy fries came on a plate about the size of a car tyre. I ate about four fries and all my taco. The lovely waitress couldn’t stop laughing at how surprised I was about the serving sizes. It is 830 pm here now and I cannot decide if I need food. Also while I think of it, the first song I heard In America was Gotye’s Somebody that I used to know. And for the first time in my life I saw my Dad without a moustache. It was hard to get used to. No photos this blog as the photos are on my iPhone and I am not getting good phone reception here. But I have been a good tourist and will update in London. Will write again soon.
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