Shaken, not stirred...

Nothing like a 3 hour flight west (to Sydney), just to fly for 13 hours north-east (to LA). Especially when over an hour of turbulence had to be put up with. The Qantas pilot was pretty good, taking us from 30,000 ft up to almost 38,000 in order to get above the band of turbulence in the Tasman. A bloke a couple of rows behind us brought up the previous meal in spectacular surround-sound fashion. Carmen's seat was broken so wouldn't recline. Although we are both warrior sized, reclining seats are still helpful.
So, after a marathon effort, we arrived at LAX on the same day we left. Everything went relatively smoothly after that; picked up rental car, drove up the coast to Ventura beach and checked into our hotel. A bit tired (the building and us), but Spanish-inspired architecture, as you would expect in the former Mexico....

By this time I hadn't slept in 26 hours, so I managed to get in 4 hours before we had to go meet Carmen's sister for dinner. An early night after some chili-cheese fries and something else I cant remember. At least we were feet dry in the land of bacon and hash-tags.

Chili-cheese fries.....heart tick? Don't think so.

A healthier option we shared. The portions are so big two can easily share a meal.

Not so healthy, but this monstrosity was shared by all four of us, so the guilt was spread 4-ways!

That night there was a wedding reception at the hotel. I love my ear-plugs and I was so tired I slept through it all. Couldn't think why Carmen was a bit ratty the next morning, though...:-)