"Beverly Hills, That's Where I Want to Be " a Los Angeles Travel Page by SabrinaSummerville

There's a song by Weezer at the moment and some of the lyrics go:-

"Beverly Hills
That's where I want to be
Livin' in Beverly Hills
Beverly Hills
Rolling like a celebrity
Livin' in Beverly Hills

Look at all those movie stars
They're all so beautiful and clean
When the housemaids scrub the floors
They get the spaces in between

I wanna live a life like that
I wanna be just like a king
Take my picture by the pool
'cause I'm the next big thing"

I couldn't get the song out of my head during the five nights I spent in LA.

Of course, as you'll guess from the title I used to be a major fan of the TV series Beverly Hills 90210, and when the travel agent couldn't get me a reservation at the Pretty Woman Hotel (Regent Beverly Wilshire)(booked out by Bill Clinton who was staying there at the time) I jumped at the chance of staying at the Beverly Hilton because of the address - yes, you've guessed it, Beverly Hills 90210.

Well I didn't see any sign of Tori Spelling, Jason priestly, or Shannon Doherty, but I did have a fantastic time living the lifestyle. I also had a few interesting experiences and inspiring realisations - one of the main ones being that life in this glamorous part of the world is pretty like life for anyone who's doing half well in ireland these days. The "poor Irish" survivors of the famine just don't exist any more. Lots of the catch phrases used in Beverly Hills are comfortably thrown around in Ireland, too - one that I kept hearing is that there are more Mercedes in Beverly Hills than there are in Munich. They say the same about Dublin - and they'd probably be right!

I had three Pretty Woman experiences, and I'm going to share them all with you:-) I classified them as The Good, The Bad, and The Downright Ugly. Let's see what you think!

The Good

Even though I couldn't get a reservation at the Regent Beverly Wilshire, I was delighted to secure a reservation in their delightful Boulevard Restaurant. The food was divine and the star spotting was endless, but more of that in my restaurant reviews.

I got nicely and glamorously dressed up for the occasion (hoping, in true pretty Woman fashion, for a Richard Gere experience). After dinner I asked the Hostess to call a taxi to take Mum and I back to our Hotel. She pleasantly directed me to the Valet and explained that he'd get me a taxi.

The Valet was a lovely Red Headed guy. He looked us up and down in a pleasant way and then said "You Ladies look far too glamorous to travel in just a taxi. I'll see if I can do anything better." Seconds later, along drives the hotel's Cadillac Escalade, shiningly black and heavily scented of leather. Registration was "Regent 2". I could hardly believe it - this was our ride. Julia baby, eat your heart out!

The Bad

Everyone who knows me knows I can't resist a great designer bag, so while I was on Rodeo I thought I'd try Louis Vuitton for their Limited Edition Summer bag - a divine creation that I had seen in Vogue or Tatler, all fringes and charms.

Wandering into Louis Vuitton I was besieged by helpful staff. Turning to an Oriental girl I expressed my wish - she gasped, turned to her workmates, and said "Aaahhh, The Bucket. She want The Bucket." At that they all looked at me, looked at each other, gasped, and babbled in Chinese. I wondered what the fuss was, then "my" shopgirl turned and said "It limited edition, we don't keep in stock. Give me your name and I see what we can do."

I explained that I was in town for just four days, and at that there was another kerfuffle in Chinese. Shopgirl excused herself and crossed the room to speak to an elegantly dressed male shopkeeper - he very obtrusively (or whatever the oppposite to unobtrusively is) looked me up and down and gave a miniscule nod of his head. At that shopgirl disappeared into a back room for about 20 minutes, emerging with her fingers to her lips and beckoning me to a quiet corner of the shop.

She then produced a box and said "This bag limited edition. We can't sell to just anybody, but I ask the manager and he say it ook to sell to you." She opened the box and extracted the bag and although it was indeed gorgeous in every way, I decided not to purchase.

The shopgirls were gobsmacked. I had been judged by the shopgirls of Rodeo Drive - judged worthy of owning the precious bucket, and had decided not to purchase. I guess that never happens to them - I turned the Pretty Woman tables.

Hmm, better be careful that I'm not blacklisted by Louis Vuitton - honestly Louis, I LOVE your stuff and I have bought LOTS of it; just not THIS time:-)

The Downright Ugly

Having walked from the Beverly Hilton to the bottom of Rodeo Drive, my poor little Mummy wanted to use a restroom. We took a left at the bottom of Rodeo and found ourselves across the street from a smart looking cafe/restaurant called Massimo. It was 11.20 and we figured we'd have a coffee. Opening the door, there were four women sitting inside drinking coffee. They looked us up and down and told us the place was closed until 11.30. Mum really needed to use the facilities and asked politely. The ladies of beverly Hills looked at each other and, as a unit, turned to her and said no.

May they rot into their superior cappuccinos!

I guess for all of us, any holiday is what we make it and any place either fulfills our dreams or it doesn't.

For me LA meant Beverly Hills and Hollywood, it meant shopping and star spotting, it meant glittering parties and incredible cars. The reality fulfilled all of my dreams. I was delighted that I had waited to come here until I was in a position to play the part of the princess in the movies, stay in a great hotel, actually buy stuff on Rodeo, ride in a Cadillac - be a Pretty Woman.

I also realise that for many of the Movie Princess the reality is not at all the fun it seems to be in the movies. It was fun for me as the visiting Irish Pretty Woman, but I saw the other side of it too - I saw Tom Curuises house besieged by paparazzi just waiting for him to emerge with or without baby Suri, I saw the trees grown so high and so thick around that house that even the most intrepid reporter/photographer couldn't see in - and when I DID spot some "real" movie stars, I ignored my Mum's pleas to ask for autographs. Everyone deserves some sort of "real" life - it ain't easy being a real life Beverly Hills Princess.