Approaching the Pacific Coast Highway portion of HWY1 the ocean started looking more inviting and the beaches became more populated. The further South we drove the more wet-suit clad surfers started appearing. We were heading into the part of California we were most familiar with from TV, movies and magazines.

The Lonely Planet told us that Zuma Beach was “Stunningly gorgeous Malibu’s even more stunningly gorgeous beach”. With a sales pitch like that we were surprised by the dirty water and abundance of plant debris on the beach. There had clearly been a lot of heavy rain recently. We found a clear-enough spot and enjoyed the sunshine and entertainment provided by a stereotypical LA bimbo chasing her ridiculous little dog.

Driving on the other side of the road reaches another level of stress when you hit LA’s massive traffic-laden highways. But we made our way into Santa Monica easily enough. Checking into Hostelling International Youth Hostel for the night reminded me of my European backpacking trip in 2005, except that now, in 2011, a disturbing number of backpackers were carrying iPads and laptops – hardly roughing it.

I challenge anyone to pass Santa Monica Boulevard without singing Sheryl Crow. We took a stroll down to Santa Monica Pier in search of a little fun before the sun went down over Santa Monica Boulevard – apparently we were doing it wrong.

Santa Monica beach is huge, so despite the beautiful sunny Sunday afternoon the beach wasn’t overcrowded. It was very busy but there was enough space for everyone, unlike most European beaches I’ve been to. The Baywatch style lifeguard towers were quite surreal and the funfair on the pier provided a unique beach view.

Santa Monica’s 3rd Avenue is bustling with tourists and locals preparing for a night out. Street performers line the avenue alongside dinosaur shaped hedges and open-till late designer stores. We went in search of a bar with live music and stumbled upon a cosy Jazz & Blues club. The band on stage was incredible. The Arthur Adams Band had recently been nominated for a Blues Foundation Award. He was an exceptionally good singer and an insanely talented guitarist. It was a mightily impressive performance and a great end to our first night in LA.

After a basic youth hostel breakfast we drove out to Griffith Park to check out the Observatory and Hollywood Sign. The top of the hill gave us an all-encompassing view of the huge city. Looking at the Hollywood Sign in real life was another surreal experience.

The Hollywood experience got even weirder as we made our way to Grauman’s Chinese Theatre and the Walk of Fame. History tells us that the studios caused the decline of Hollywood, but we didn’t expect it to be that run down. It’s hard to tell if anyone actually lives in Hollywood. The only people there were tourists or out-of-work actors trying to earn tips with poor impersonations of their better-known contemporaries. The walk of fame risked becoming an addictive stroll as we scoured the path for b-list celebrities and Hollywood legends in amongst ‘stars’ we’d never heard of.

After turning down numerous celebrity homes tours we drove ourselves to Beverly Hills to see what the fuss was about – I still don’t really get it.

I was really keen to visit the Annenberg Space for Photography. After circling the area struggling to find it we were sad to discover the museum was closed for renovations.

Considering the fact that we’d be flying home the next evening we decided to cram in as much beach time as possible.

I read that LA’s Southern beaches were amazing so we braved the highway to reach Hermosa Beach. We mostly had the beach to ourselves as we waited for the sunset. A cycle/skate highway provided some fascinating people watching opportunities, the best being a woman on roller skates ‘walking’ two large dogs that simply pulled her down the strip.

A homeless man started a conversation with us and perhaps I’ve been living in London for two long, but I was waiting for the kicker when he’d ask for some money. Instead he just proved to be an unlikely tour guide, pointing out landmarks and telling us where we could catch the best sunsets – only in America.

We spent the evening people watching and having dinner in Hermosa Beach. It became very surreal when we noticed all the TVs in bars and shop windows were fixed to CNN’s coverage of Bin Laden’s murder. It was very weird being in America for the event and absorbing the reaction to the news. We were slightly concerned about how it would effect our flight home the next day, primarily because security would be increased, slowing everything down, but it wasn’t an issue for us at all.

Our final day in LA and the USA was a fully chilled-out holiday experience. We decided to check out Venice Beach and got there early. So early that the market stalls were still setting up and the crackheads were still lurking about. Ana-Paula really didn’t like it and wanted to go somewhere she felt safer. We spent a few minutes watching skaters take on the beach-front pools and got back in the car. Venice Beach and Venice Marina sit in quite stark contrast to each other. The marina is based on Italy’s Venice and is home to over-priced flats and luxury yachts.

Considering how much we enjoyed Hermosa Beach, we decided to head South again – which also gave us easy access to the airport when we’d have to leave later that day. Manhattan Beach is the kind of place the Housewives of Orange County would spend their time. It’s a beautiful beach and was a great place for our last swim and holiday sunshine. We had a great lunch and were entertained by a very dolled-up women on a loud and heated phone call; “the problem is that you’re always with your wife!”

We made our way to an amazing ice cream shop and spent our last few dollars on milkshakes.

Rinsing the sand and salt water off, we made our way to LAX and the long flight back to London. The trip didn’t answer any questions about whether we’d like to live in the USA, but the country certainly made an amazing holiday destination.