This year America celebrated its 250th birthday on 4th July. That also coincided with my last full day in California. I expected to see flags everywhere in the run up to the 4th but no… like everything else California seems to take a more chilled approach to the semi-quin-centennial celebrations than I was accustomed to seeing on the east coast.
As it was my last full day on the west coast, I was determined to make the most of it.
By 10am I was on the beach for my last chance to sunbathe and play in the Pacific Ocean. For the past couple of years, I have spent the 4th of July on the beach at Rehoboth Beach De where space was at a premium from sunrise. A total contrast to Venice Beach. I wandered leisurely across the sand and got a front row spot without any issues. Even by the time I was packing up to leave several hours later there was still ocean front space left for anyone who wanted it. Bizarre!
The boardwalk was already busy as I crossed it on the way back to my hotel to get freshened up.
My master plan was to shower, relax in the shade for an hour then walk to Santa Monica Pier for a late lunch/early dinner.
It was a beautiful walk north to Santa Monica. The Strand was busy with couples and families out walking and the cycle path was crowded with folk cycling, folk on electric bikes and scooters, folk on roller blades and skateboards. If it had wheels, there was someone on it!
What struck me though was the lack of patriotic dress. Where were all the stars and stripes shirts and shorts? Don’t get me wrong, there were a few but nowhere near as many as I had anticipated.
The parks along the way were busy with people out enjoying a picnic; the parking lots were busy with people sitting beside and on their cars and trucks watching the world go by.
As expected Santa Monica Pier was crowded. Was this really my final trip out there? I was more than a little sad about that.
Food was my first priority. On previous visits, I hadn’t gone to Pier Burger. I’ve no idea why I hadn’t to be fair. I just hadn’t. Much to my surprise there was only a short queue outside it and within a few quick minutes I was enjoying (really enjoying!) a Pier Burger and a Sprite back out in the sunshine.
Appetite quashed I headed through the crowds to the end of the pier. It wasn’t as busy out there as I’d suspected it might be. I resisted the lure of the souvenir shop that boasted that it was the last shop for 2448 miles. I can’t say the same for a couple of the others, including the Bubba Gump Shrimp Co on the way back…. oops!
I couldn’t help but wonder as I crossed the well-worn boards for the final time “Would I be back one day?”
On the walk back to Venice Beach there were noticeably more 4th July shirts on display than earlier in the day but still a distinct lack of flags flying.
I passed what looked like the same two guys as on a previous afternoon sitting on the wall playing chess.
Watching some of the homeless population raiding the trash cans for recyclables to sell or for food to eat tugged at my heart and not for the first time…
It was now after 5pm and there was every fashion style imaginable on display – folk out for the evening in their designer clothes, teenagers in swimsuits, joggers sweating it out as they pounded through their run but with most dressed like me in t-shirt and shorts.
There was already a party vibe about Venice Beach as I arrived back at the boardwalk with huge queues lined up outside the first two bar/restaurants.
I returned to my hotel room for a couple of hours to finish packing before venturing back out at sunset in time for the 4th of July fireworks display.
The sun had already begun to set when I set off again for my final trip to the Venice Beach skatepark. I’d walked along there at sunset every night of my stay trying to capture that elusive skateboard jump shot at sunset.
Halfway to the skatepark, there’s a glass fronted building where the units on the ground floor display unusual art exhibits. Above this is a first-floor terrace and presumably apartments. (One room has a life-sized giraffe in it) As I approached I could hear that their party had already started. There was a DJ playing, the terrace was crowded and there was also a circle of dancers on the boardwalk. This was definitely where the 4th of July party was at! With no other option, I danced my way through the crowd.
Some clouds had rolled in so it was a rather muted but still stunning sunset. I stood watching the skateboards for longer than usual, knowing that this was my last opportunity to watch them. I’d come to recognise a few faces and enjoyed watching them hurtling round at breakneck speeds. The tall, elegant girl with the roller boots was there too. Someone had moved and oil drum/trash can to the edge of one of the sections and several folk were attempting to jump over it, some with more success than others.
It was getting chilly standing there so I decided to go for a last wander through the shops to get in out of the breeze for a bit. I was tempted to buy a second Venice Beach hoodie to keep warm but decided against it. (My suitcase was a tad full and a tad heavy.)
As darkness fell, sporadic fireworks started to go off up and down the coastline and closer to the boardwalk. The official fireworks display was being set off from a barge down at Marina del Ray, south of Venice Beach but I didn’t feel inclined to walk so far knowing that I would need to walk back in the dark. (When the sun goes down, more of the local homeless population appear on the boardwalk to sleep under the trees or in the public restrooms.) I decided to err on the side of caution and view the fireworks from the grassy knoll south of the skatepark. There were already a few of the homeless camped there for the night but I could see that there were folk gathering on the beach in front so I headed there instead.
A few moments before the official display began, someone let off a huge firework to my left. It whizzed over my head before lighting up the sky in a shower of green. I got the fright of my life! That had been a bit close for comfort! Others were being set off around me and I’ll be honest; I was a bit spooked.
I watched the first ten minutes of the official display then decided “if you’ve seen one firework, you’ve seen them all” and set off for home.
The boardwalk after dark certainly attracted an entirely different crowd! The DJ dance party was still in full swing as I danced back through it. All around me, fireworks were lighting up the night sky.
As 4th July celebrations go, this had been one to remember… especially as the fireworks continued to go off until the wee small hours of 5th July. Well, I guess the country is only 250 once.
Coral McCallum 