On our first morning in LA we thought we’d explore the ‘gaybourhood’ (our hotel was in West Hollywood). So we walked up Santa Monica Boulevard, and walked down Santa Monica Boulevard, and realised that we were the only ones walking. The only other people on the pavement were either homeless or jogging. That was the last time we walked.

We stopped for lunch at Niko Niko sushi, overtipped nervously our waitress due to our lack of experience and left to her giggling and saying something in Japanese to her coworkers. We now know how to say ‘jackpot!’ in Japanese. Probably.

I told Stuart I had booked a restaurant for dinner and we needed to be ready by 7.30. Instead, I had another surprise in store for him: our friend Stephen has lived in LA for years now, and Stuart had not made the connection, until he showed up at our hotel:

We then went for dinner at La Buca and drinks at Mickey’s, and I promised Stuart there would be no more surprises during this trip. At his age, all this sustained excitement might prove to be dangerous to his health.