On a train from L.A to Santa Barbara: 15th August 9.24am Sometimes a great ocean can make the world of difference. I have to get away for a couple of days on my own. I need to see waves and smell salt. The desire to have a solo adventure has been rising in me since Sunday. So I'm on a train as I write this heading for Santa Barbara. I love the romance of trains and this one is just right. It's a Double-Decker, full of old aged pensioners who appear to be on a kind of beano. They are laughing, chattering and sucking on boiled sweets. Outside there is a mist that phases the mountains that surround the city of Los Angeles. Occasionally, the train exerts its whistle and it makes my heart soar. Maybe everything will turn sepia in a minute and Marilyn Monroe may walk through the carriage, brandishing a guitar like the scene from 'Some Like It Hot'. Knowing my luck it will be Tony Curtis trying to sell me some of his terrible art.
