A trip to Los Angeles

It’s been over two weeks since my last post, but that was just a momentary lapse due to our family vacation to Los Angeles. It was the first time my wife and daughters visited the United States, and my second time since spending a semester abroad during my studies.

We had booked a rental car for our arrival, and at the back of my head during our 20 hour long trip from Norway to Los Angeles Airport was a glimmer of anxiety. Everyone knows the stereotype of American traffic: aggressive drivers, chaotic multi-lane highways, constant near-misses. But once I actually got on the road, it was... completely fine. Wide lanes, clear signs, helpful HOV lanes, and drivers who were surprisingly courteous. Exhausted as I was, there was a surreal, giddy thrill in driving past signs reading Sunset Blvd, Hollywood, and Santa Monica.

Naturally, having spent the night trying to sleep, we were ready for our very first major excursion in the land of cinema was... Walmart.

I joke, but my daughters were genuinely thrilled. They had only ever seen Walmart in Roblox or in American movies, so stepping into one in real life felt like a tourist attraction to them.

Our actual first sightseeing day was one day later, as jetlag and exhaustion forced us to take a slow start to our vacation, where we visited the TCL Chinese Theatre and Madame Tussauds. The kids loved the wax museum, while I had my own quiet fanboy moment just standing outside a historic cinema. The Walk of Fame itself was pretty underwhelming. At the end of the day, it's just names paid for to be printed on the pavement, but looking at the actual handprints and signatures etched into the concrete outside the Chinese Theatre was fantastic. We even got our first distant glimpse of the Hollywood Sign.

For the rest of the trip we adopted a strict rule: between every major outing, we had a rest day. Looking back, that was the right choice.

After our rest day came a trip to Universal Studios. The Jurassic World ride was exhilarating, and my oldest daughter and I had to take it twice. Hogsmeade was a great piece of the world of Harry Potter contrasting the urban world of LA, which my wife and kids explored while I went on the fantastic Studio Tour. I had no idea just how many massive movie scenes were filmed on actual backlot sets rather than on location.

Disneyland came next, after another rest day. My wife unfortunately got sick, so I took the girls alone. We rode on a boat through the whale that ate Pinocchio, swapped turns doing the Matterhorn ride, visited Mickey’s home and went to a galaxy far, far away. It probably comes as no surprise that I enjoyed Galaxy’s Edge the most. Stepping up to the Millennium Falcon in a bustling space port surrounded by petrified tree spires and rugged sandstone ruins, felt like actually stepping into Star Wars. We decided to help the Mandalorian and Grogu by taking the Millenium Falcon on a Smuggler’s Run, where my daughters manned the guns, I handled ship repairs, and two total strangers flew the ship. It was frantic, loud, and absolutely fantastic. If it wasn’t for the thirty-minute line outside, I would have gone again and again.

As we were leaving the park, we encountered a parade on main street. When planning the day, I had scoffed at the idea of seeing a parade. Why would I want to watch grown adults dressed up as cartoon characters I associate with animation? But the atmosphere caught me off guard. The buzz of the crowd on the street, the live music, the energy: it was genuinely impressive, and my daughters got excited pointing out characters they knew from the movies. I am glad we chanced upon it.

However, as great as both Universal Studios and Disneyland were, I couldn't help but feel a growing frustration. Why do we call them *theme* parks when they are fundamentally just dressed-up amusement parks?

When I go to a place styled after Harry Potter or Star Wars, I don't actually want an endless string of rollercoasters. Do we really need a Harry Potter rollercoaster? What I actually want is to feel like I am in that world. I want a Westworld-style experience: actors living in the space, immersive props, street atmosphere, interactive storytelling. Instead, the modern theme park feels overwhelmingly designed around two primary mechanics: standing in line for rides, and funneling you into gift shops to buy clothes, food, and plastic toys. Galaxy’s Edge and Hogsmeade came close to what I desire, but I just wish these were actual theme parks.

Next outing was to Griffith Observatory. It was a brutal climb up the hill under a beating sun, but worth every step. The museum exhibits were great, the planetarium show was fantastic, and the view across the city was unbelievable. (Though the café was genuinely terrible, in stark contrast with the rest of the observatory.)

Our next major outing spanned two days as we drove down to San Diego. On the way down, we stopped at the Getty Museum, which was... fine. Overrated for my taste, though I'm glad I checked it off the list. After checking in at a hotel in Pacific Beach, a pair of bicycling police passed me by while I stood there looking out at the Pacific Ocean for the first time in my life, and for a moment it felt like I was back in 1997 watching an episode of Pacific Blue on TV after school. I see now as I write this blog post that the show took place in Santa Monica, but I guess the word Pacific and the sight of the cycling police at the beach made me conflate the two things.

We spent the entire next day at the San Diego Zoo. During a great introductory bus tour, I learned that the entire zoo is non-profit, does an extraordinary amount of real conservation work, and makes sure the animals are genuinely well taken care of. For once, the insane prices for food or plushies didn’t sting as much.

When it was time to go animal watching, our daughters had to make absolutely sure that we visited the capybaras. Where the sudden fascination for capybaras has come from over the recent year, I have no idea of. They're like a gigantic, less cute version of a guinea pig. That you can't even pet! We also made sure to visit the elephants, tigers, koalas, and all manner of creeping, crawling critters. The capybara mystery aside, this was easily one of the best experiences of the entire trip.

Back in LA, we visited the Natural History Museum where the kids ran around excited to see "real" dinosaur skeletons (not translating for them the small note that said that 80% of the bones were in fact fiberglass or resin casts of real bones) and the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art.

The Lucas Museum was exactly my kind of place. Narrative art, art that exists explicitly to tell a story or serve a purpose, resonates with me in a way abstract art does not. From old black and white comic strips to the oil paintings of Carl Barks, paintings depicting historical events or snapshots of human life, illustrations for children's books, and sculptures of manga or anime characters. The museum had it all. And then, of course, there was the Star Wars section.

The inaugural Star Wars in Motion exhibition at the Lucas Museum of Narrative Art felt like finally getting to sneak into the mythological Skywalker Ranch with all its mysteries. And standing there, surrounded by original concept art, production designs, and actual props used when making the movies, was a boyhood dream come true.

And with that, our vacation was almost over. A relaxing last day to do some souvenir shopping and packing our suitcases (now filled with a dozen new plushies, including four capybaras) was all that was left before we started our final twenty hour journey back home. It was exhausting, and I am still struggling with jetlag, but the trip was so worth it.

Looking back at our short time in the US, I have re-affirmed something particular about that country. While I do not like American politicians or billionaires, or their gun laws, their use of the death penalty, and their horrible excuse of a healthcare system, I must say that Americans as individuals are just lovely. Approachable, polite, warm, and remarkably friendly. Coming from Norway, where we tend to be reserved, cold, and protective of our personal space, the contrast is night and day.

I loved being there. I could easily see myself living in the US for a few years. Though if we ever go back, I think we'll pick somewhere a bit cooler, Los Angeles was just a little too warm.

-- Amir