Every inch of landscape in a three mile radius around Hollywood screams of glamour, showbiz and drama. Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck beam at us from large posters that hang alongside the winding road . Upscale apartment complexes and palatial estates seem to look down their noses at us as we make our way to Universal Studios. The weather Gods have been kind so far. The sky shines in all its aquamarine glory while the yellowish green trees sway merrily in a light summer breeze.
As we pull into the tiered parking lot at Universal, I am amused to note that each parking level has a fun name like Frankenstein, King Kong and Jurassic. There isn’t a shred of doubt remaining that the theme of our day is going to be movies, movies and more movies. The cardinal opening score of Universal Pictures plays repeatedly at the ticketing counter making my spine tingle. Today we are going to treat ourselves like movie stars!
Yet, I feel more like a scared little girl than a movie star as I walk into the eerie confines of the House of Horrors. It is like my worst nightmare coming true. Trust me when I say, you need to possess the heart of a lion to not shriek when an ogre with gruesome pockmarks pounces at you from a dark crevice in the wall. As for me, I whine and howl my way through an awful maze of screeching bats, spooky corners, odious body bags from the movie Coma and repulsive fiends from Frankenstein, The Mummy and the likes. I promise silently that I will never put myself through this again.
The dinosaurs at the Jurassic Park section seem friendlier at first even when they are trying to be mean and obnoxious. The little ones squirt water at us as we cruise along in a boat through a make believe rain forest. Soon enough chaos hits. A livid T-Rex makes a sudden appearance from up above, forcing people in our boat to let out blood curdling screams. With the sound effects, life-like dinosaurs and a final plummet down an 85 feet man made waterfall (which brings my heart to my mouth), it is almost as if we are living the movie.
From the heart of a thick Amazon jungle we are transported to the arid underbelly of an Egyptian desert. The mummies from yore are waiting for us in their rachitic tombs. With great trepidation we descend into one of the dungeons from the movie The Mummy in what looks like a mine cart. It is all pleasant as long as we are gliding past well lit halls bursting with treasure chests, but the going gets tough as soon as our cart starts rallying at break neck speed through darker passages teeming with three dimensional images of half rotten mummies screaming obscenities at us. We ricochet between several narrow passageways and are thrown around like rag dolls before narrowly escaping a blood thirsty mummy.
We aren’t done as yet. Metallic monsters from the future beckon us. The Transformers is a ride inspired by the hugely popular sci-fi movie (which goes by the same name) about a battle between robots from outer space. Strapped in a capsule called Evac, we have been informed by a very convincing machine-like voice that our sole purpose on Earth is to save a device called ‘AllSpark’ from the clutches of evil forces – The Decepticons. Hurtling through simulated streets of New York, I can almost feel the vile Megatron (one of the Decepticons) at my heels. We dodge oncoming vehicles and sidle between other giant robots to keep AllSpark safe. Just when I think we have pulled it off, I feel a nudge and we nose-dive from top of a multistoreyed building. There is a sickening thud and then just as suddenly it is over. The lights turn on and I realize that all this was a 4 dimensional hallucination of sorts. Megatron’s breath on my shoulder was a puff of air ejected from a nozzle on my seat and the spray of street water on my face was regular water from a spout.
The last ride has left us a little disoriented. For a few minutes we stumble around taking in the un-simulated real world. However, it is difficult to come back to reality with Sponge Bob skittering around and the Donkey from Shrek calling out to us from his bakery. Music and food are flowing unbridled. There is a general ambiance of merry making and fun. A caricature artist sketches us with large heads and puny stick like bodies and we laugh at the absurdity of it all.
The exhaustion of the day is now telling on my feet and I cannot wait to get back home. But wait, how can I conclude a trip to Los Angeles without paying homage to Hollywood Boulevard? So, off we go looking for the famous Walk of Fame which is literally a sidewalk studded with stars. Charlie Chaplin, Mickey Mouse, Bob Hope, Drew Barrymore and over 2400 prominent figures have their names carved on five pointed stars strewn all over a 15 block stretch. And because the real flesh and blood stars are so elusive, Madame Tussaud offers ardent fans her collection of wax substitutes to make do with. Across the street a running tap suspended in thin air, devoid of a pipe connection, floats inexplicably in the ‘Ripley’s Believe it or Not’ museum window but by now I am too weary to even bother cracking the mystery and move on.
There is more to Hollywood Boulevard than just the Walk of Fame. Every now and then we walk into street artists dressed as characters from popular movies like the pixies from the Disney movies, Batman and Robin from the Batman saga, Transformers and so on. A colossal Chinese Theater looms large in one corner reminding me of the Bruce Lee and Jackie Chang movies my husband loves so much. There is a swarm of energetic people dancing on the sidewalk to Gangnam Style. Restaurants and watering holes with brightly coloured neon boards try to lure us in but it has just been a very long day of strange sights, sounds and experiences and my 28- year- old bones have given up. All I want to do now is crawl into my cozy bed and let waves of sweet sleep sweep me away to a land where I can dream away about my time in the city of angels..