I left the Biltmore Hotel to go and get some breakfast. I was tired and felt a bit wobbly and very hungry. After the twenty five minute wait for a cup of coffee in the hotel, I thought it would be easier to go out for breakfast and get a feel for this part of LA.

I left the drive in ramp and turned into the street. There was a man watering the sidewalk and cooing and coaxing it to grow. Another man with a big grey beard and no legs was in a wheelchair wheeling backwards through the traffic, mumbling to himself.

On Broadway, fat Mexican beats were blaring out from the record shops. I had a quick look in one. I think it was called Disco Tony’s Mexican Mayhem, or something. I hit a cool looking Mexican café for breakfast, but everything was served with Chihuahua so I left to find something a bit more vegetarian friendly.
I took a safe option and found a sub sandwich bar. LA was about 32 degrees C and muggy too. I was tired and feeling a bit faint.

As I ate my sandwich, and read the ingredient list on my bag off lip burningly salty crisps. Potatoes were so far down the list in chapter 13 that I stopped eating them.