It seems to me that sometimes in life the most important decisions I make are done hastily without too much thought of what I'm getting myself into. I certainly feel like this was the case when I signed up to do an exchange in Mexico for half-a-year. I had made up my mind that I wouldn't go, that it was too dangerous for me, a blonde foreigner who doesn't know a word of Spanish. I mean, I had thought about it, but when I weighed up the pro's and con's it seemed the sensible thing to do. Stay at home, finish my degree save my money, or well, better to say start saving money (trips to Bali and South-Africa had already depleted my savings). So it almost came as a surprise to me when one morning, for some reason actually unknown to me, I decided, determinedly that I would go to Mexico. I called the University organised an appointment and before I knew it I was sitting on a plane flying over the city of Los-Angeles. At this time I still don't think I realised what I was getting myself into. But for now a few weeks of sun, surf and adventure with my best friend in California, absolutely perfect.
Los-Angeles is enormous, the buildings like a grey blanket covers the desert below. As sensationalist as it is, I couldn't help but get excited at seeing the famous Hollywood sign, watching over it's city, big and white and well one could say just like in the movies.The ocean was my favourite sight, her blue beauty radiated in the midday sun. I was in LAX, home of movie stars and dreamers, and well surprisingly it felt great. Getting out of the airport I could immediately tell I was in America. It's like all those things I saw on the silver screen, bright yellow Taxi's, movie-like police cars, palm tree lined streets, old, big pastel yellow school buses, came to life before my eyes. It was a weird feeling, I have always thought of America as a sort of dreamland, a place that couldn't really exist because it was recreated in almost every movie I ever saw. Maybe that explains my fantastical association with the country, and that I had never had a real desire to see it. But there I was, window down head poking out, marvelling at the cars driving on the other side of the road. Funnily enough movies give a pretty good representation of the Californian lifestyle, while I think some of the Americans were maybe a bit behind with the times, and really did believe all Aussies are Crocodile Dundees, or Steve Irwins.
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