I was not impressed. I actually started chuckling (yes, chuckling, not to be confused with laughing) to myself in my car as I parked on the one-way street that marks the top of The Stairs. Not only is it difficult to find parking (that's where my parallel parking skills came in handy), but I wanted to post a sign, scream...perhaps even picket; I wanted to tell everyone on those stairs, "Hey, buddy, did you know that there are other stairs in Los Angeles?" I am not sure what Stair Committee chose this certain flight as THE stairs for LA, but now it's become so much hype, such a meat market, that I'm sure it'll be that way for many years to come.
What The Stairs did offer was a great view overlooking the hills of Santa Monica and the ocean (click for a larger view):
After my less than enthusiastic intro to The Stairs, I went to the Santa Monica beach. I walked along Ocean Blvd and I found Another Set of Stairs that leads down to the sand, at the intersection of Montana and Ocean. Another Set of Stairs offered a crystal clear view of the water, and it seems like no one really knows about Another Set of Stairs, because they weren't crowded at all, were just as long and worthy as The Stairs, and probably wider. I wonder if Another Set ever feels lonely sometimes, perhaps second best?
I walked along the water for more than two hours, just thinking and feeling the sun on my face. I expected the sand to be filled with dots of sunbathers, but there were just a few, though the day offered pristine beach weather. Families on bicycles rode past me, with neon hats and tourist grins. Two teenagers dug in the sand, seeking treasure. On the Santa Monica Pier I heard the giddy screams of those riding the roller coaster, the scent of pretzels and funnel cakes hovered in the air. A team of street hockey players rested on benches, water in hand. Couples walked the beach lazy-like; toddlers let the waves kiss their toes and splash at their bottoms.
By the time I felt the sun start to sting my cheeks, my legs were tired. I climbed Another Set of Stairs, bid farewell and roamed my way back to Brentwood.
It was a perfect afternoon.
I walked along the water for more than two hours, just thinking and feeling the sun on my face. I expected the sand to be filled with dots of sunbathers, but there were just a few, though the day offered pristine beach weather. Families on bicycles rode past me, with neon hats and tourist grins. Two teenagers dug in the sand, seeking treasure. On the Santa Monica Pier I heard the giddy screams of those riding the roller coaster, the scent of pretzels and funnel cakes hovered in the air. A team of street hockey players rested on benches, water in hand. Couples walked the beach lazy-like; toddlers let the waves kiss their toes and splash at their bottoms.
By the time I felt the sun start to sting my cheeks, my legs were tired. I climbed Another Set of Stairs, bid farewell and roamed my way back to Brentwood.
It was a perfect afternoon.
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