"The doctor is in"

We chose to land in Los Angeles for little other reason than for its proximity to Mexico. But part of us was a little curious to see what it was like, beyond the trips to Disneyland and Hollywood we'd each taken as kids.

We settled on Venice Beach, for sheer novelty value, figuring it would rate the highest in the people watching stakes. And we could neither fit in at nor afford Beverley Hills!

Strolling along the palm-fringed beachfront promenade, it quickly became clear that Venice was no ordinary beachside borough. Washed up wannabe rappers handed out CDs, and if you accepted quickly whipped a set of headphones over their ears to showcase their tunes. Spaced out dudes cooed "the doctor is in..." while attempting to usher us into medicinal marijuana clinics.

The concrete-encircled beach seemed to have been frozen in time. It must be one of the only places in the world where rollerbladers still frequent.

But the tourist troupe riding on Segways - those stand-up electric scooters - eclipsed the rollerbladers with the most hilarious form of transport.

There was hardly a surfer in sight among an eccentric crowd buzzing around the flea-market, where vendors pushed tacky souvenirs and clip on sunglasses. Venice is not your typical well-off beachside suburb a la Sydney. Street performers like the one playing piano below exemplify its washed-up quality. Parking spots on the promenade were dotted with vans that looked like they were bunkering down for longer than a day.