2:You Don’t Take an RV into L.A.
California, Los Angeles.
06th September 2019.
Day Two.
You Don’t Take an RV into L.A.
Steering a 25ft RV through the middle of Los Angeles is difficult at the best of times. It becomes significantly harder when you’re holding onto Martha’s ankles as she hangs out of the passenger window, screaming “SORRY!” at the top of her voice.
At that moment, all I wanted was to be back in England — thousands of miles away from any vehicle. Central L.A. was about as far from that reality as possible.
The day started at 6:40 AM. We tried to stay in bed for as long as possible and managed an extra 30 minutes, but the time difference had other ideas.
Breakfast was the same cereal as the night before, eaten outside in the heat.
It was already hot. Possibly too hot. I swapped my normal shorts and t-shirt for rugby shorts and a vest — tactical decision.
After unpacking and doing the usual morning bits, we set off for Hollywood.
I was buzzing. Properly buzzing.
I felt like a pro driver. I could take on the world.
Martha the navigator. Me — elite RV operator.
I was slightly worried about parking, so it was a relief to find a decent-sized spot on the road leading up to Griffith Observatory.
Traffic getting there wasn’t great, but that seemed to be standard for L.A.
We set off on a hike to see the Hollywood sign. Empty stomachs and the heat stopped us from finishing it, but realistically, we were only trying to get closer to it.
It’s not like it was going to change.
It literally says “Hollywood”.
Big letters. On a hill.
Done.
Looking back at the photos, I should have asked Martha to use her phone. I’m out of focus in every single one taken on my camera.
All of her photos? Perfect.
So that’s nice.
The observatory itself was cool, but we didn’t stay long. Even without finishing the hike, we’d still done more than enough walking in that heat — and there are only so many hours in a day.
“Well, the sign looks good”
-Martha, 2019.
Next stop: the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
We got back in the RV and set off… briefly.
A fresh breeze and a repetitive slamming noise made us realise the side door was open. Slight issue.
We pulled over, sorted it, and set off again. Lesson learned. Could’ve been worse.
It wasn’t long before I found myself driving what felt like the biggest vehicle in all of L.A.
A 25ft RV is not designed for this part of town.
So naturally…
I clipped my right wing mirror off.
We were genuinely two minutes away from the Walk of Fame — according to Google Maps — and instead, we were stood in the middle of a busy L.A. street, picking up pieces of wing mirror.
I borrowed a pen and paper from some very entertained bystanders and left a note on the truck I’d hit.
After a slight nervous breakdown, we called Cruise America for advice.
Crashing is bad enough. Doing it in a foreign country, on a busy street, with what feels like the entire population of America watching you… is worse.
Amazingly, the nearest Cruise America base was only about 30 miles away.
In L.A. traffic, that translated to roughly an hour and a half.
In my current mental state, that translated to a lifetime.
Even more amazingly, they were already aware that some absolute melon was driving one of their RVs around downtown Los Angeles.
Possibly due to another incident…
I forgot to mention that earlier.
Now, driving an RV without a wing mirror is… not ideal. I couldn’t see anything on my right-hand side. Nothing.
So, we improvised.
With one hand on the wheel and the other gripping Martha’s ankles, we navigated L.A. in true explorer fashion.
The cab of the RV is much smaller than the back, so Martha had to lean her entire upper body out of the window just to see around it — like she was steering a sailboat.
This system was… not perfect.
Instructions were shouted back through the window, slightly delayed, and not always helpful.
The occasional beep from a terrified local was usually followed by Martha screaming:
“NO, NO! GO BACK! Sorry! I’m so sorry!”
At this point, I remembered something Martha’s dad had said before we left: “Look after each other.”
As I sat there, one hand on the wheel and the other holding onto Martha’s feet while she dangled out of a moving vehicle…
I couldn’t help but wonder if we’d misunderstood the brief.
“Look after eachother”
After a very, very stressful drive, we made it back to Cruise America.
My man Brian was there again — still an absolute legend — and somehow managed to make me feel better about my outstanding driving performance.
The RV was fixed in about 15 minutes.
And just like that, we were back on the road.
It had been a ridiculous couple of days. Between everything we’d lost on day one and my driving today… “eventful” felt like an understatement.
Back at the campsite, safely off the roads, we finally figured out how to use the propane stove and cooked some pasta.
In bed by 9 PM.
Ready for a relaxing day tomorrow.
