Ghetto Parking at LAX

 

"But LAX is the other way off the freeway."

"I know, but this is the direction for the long-term parking."

A half a mile later, deep in the heart of Inglewood.

"Are you sure?"

Irritated. "Yes."

"So how much was this parking?"

After circling it twice, we realize that the TradeWinds Hostel for Backpackers is the home for our long term parking.

Clever online marketing and low pricing drew us in. As we passed more buildings with bars over the windows on the way to the hostel, I began to wonder if this wasn't the most dangerous part of our journey. And to think, I didn't realize our adventures could begin before leaving US soil.

As we pull in and speak with the lovely woman behind the counter, there are young international twenty year olds playing pool in the background patio with the heavy scent of marijuana wafting through the air. I suddenly feel like I'm twenty years old again, carefree with nothing but $5 and a backpack. The sense that anything can happen.

That feeling is still with when when I turn as my kids ask me where the bathroom is. While I fill out forms releasing the hostel of responsibility of damages to our car, Rob asks where the car will be parked in our absence.

"Oh, we have some off-site garages around town." She says with a gold-grill grin, before continuing her conversation with the fellow attendant in spanish.

Rob looks at me and asks "Do you think we'll ever see our car again?"

It's debatable but the decision is made.

We then pile into a 1970's party bus with the happiest driver in the world blasting his favorite hits from the 80's and singing along wildly. We are the only passengers and we all join in, dancing and humming as we make the multiple mile drive to the airport.

It's going to be a goooood trip.

 

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