It was dismaying to wake up on the seventh and final day in Los Angeles to be greeted by ‘London Rain’, as the Europeans like to call it. This indicated a day on the road and we drove up to San Fernando valley, picked up 2000 Carlsbad World Champion Mitcho399, and headed around the mountains, that only a matter of months before had been scored by the vast LA fires and the charcoaled trees were still there to see. Scary.
A refreshing tour through the never-ending orange groves (even the air smelled citrus) and a short visit to the hamlet of Santa Paula – imagine a wild west town in the 21st century – and it was onto the largest and most impressive outlet shopping complex I’d see in the USA. Naturally there were a few bargains in store and the car was soon burdened with Timberland, Converse and Calvin Klein bags.
Within fifteen minutes of leaving, the Pacific was soon keeping us company on the coastal road and it was captivating to see what looked like flocks of pelicans swooping to within inches of the sea. Sadly no dolphins and as we approached Malibu our attention was distracted by the huge hilltop mansions opposite the beach. Neighbourhoods housing the very rich and famous. Through Santa Monica, a rapid stop at the Adidas store and a fill-up at the La Cabina Mexican and onto LAX.
The nine hour flight was occupied with work and attempts at sleep and as we were soon descending over London it was quite a shock to take-in the landscape of a home town and realise the immense topographical and cultural difference between two places within a single plane trip. A short but entirely pleasant meal with the folks in Terminal 5 was followed by a welcome stint in the BA lounge and five hours after the wheels had touched down from America it was time to board for the eleven hour marathon to Sao Paolo. The flight felt a lot longer but I was able to work on OTOR 5 (great MotoGP pics) and also watch ‘The Aviator’ thankful that I had my Macbook on-hand as the pull-up monitor on my seat refused to get past the first menu screen.
Sao Paolo and the one hour run to Campinas (a short hop away from Indaiatuba and the host circuit of round four of the FIM Motocross World Championship) was a bit of a rat-run with priorities spread between missing pot-holes and dodging dodgy traffic. My scratched up Volkswagen from Hertz had already cost the earth and with several mildly alarming warnings about leaving the car in public places (‘I would advise the basic insurance package sir as one client needed one year for repayment due to bureaucracy’ said the either very helpful or very skilled Hertz representative) we set off with Juan Pablo (Solomoto) and Jamie (Monster Energy) piled in between the bags. Sao Paolo – or what I saw of the seventh largest populated city in the world (Shanghai is first apparently) – reminds me slightly of LA in its bottomless dedication to concrete but is messier and more edgy. Campinas looks like a medium sized town on the map but it is a sizeable city on its own and our hotel upon arrival was typically Brazilian; good impression on the outside, out-dated and basic on the inside. Don’t get me started on the extortionate road tolls…
As Thursday comes to a sunny halt we have yet to visit the track that has hosted several 125cc GPs last century and the 1999 Motocross of Nations but the red terrain can wait until Friday afternoon as a Mormaii media event takes place with the riders tomorrow and involves a football pitch…sounds promising.
