The Hollywood hills are majestic as you relax poolside at the Andaz Hyatt. (Photo Courtesy Paul Rubio).
By PAUL RUBIO
Since the 1920s, the L.A. enigma of wealth, fame, and pretention has lured celebrity hopefuls and aspiring anybodies to enter a vortex of the fake and fabulous, in a desperate attempt to become “somebody.” Likewise, this conundrum has placed L.A. at the top of the global “must see” bucket list, especially for the GLBT traveler.
Neighboring Beverly Hills, West Hollywood is arguably the epicenter of America’s gay universe. On a day-to-day basis, the streets of WEHO teem with America’s most stunning gay men, making the true attraction of visiting this gayborhood recreation time on an eye-candy playground. In fact, tourists simply looking for the “gay L.A.” experience need go no further than the main drags of Melrose, Sunset, and Santa Monica.
After battling some annoying traffic coming from LAX and catching a glimpse of the Hollywood sign, it’s time to put on your sunglasses and look the part, exiting the cab in front of either the flawless London West Hollywood (thelondonwesthollywood.com) or the awesome Andaz West Hollywood (westhollywood. andaz.hyatt.com). The Andaz West Hollywood is Hyatt’s much awaited youthful re-invention of the former Sunset Strip “Riot Hyatt,” a hotbed of 70s and 80s rock n roll angst and the long-haired rocker appetite for hotel destruction. The new Andaz is fresh, funky, fun, and full of freebees, offering a better-planned and more strategically conceptualized product than its most analogous competitor, the “W.” The contemporary design of common spaces is highly detailed while rooms are simple and understated. Guest rooms boast spacious sunrooms with floor to ceiling windows, peering over the Sunset Strip and vaster Hollywood panoramas (from floors 6 and up). Free Illy espresso, wine, and rotating snacks lure guests at all hours to the lobby, while the complimentary (nonalcoholic) mini bar gives new meaning to raiding the fridge. Sunning in your Speedo at the rooftop pool is arguably one of the best uses of LA daylight, while healthy French cuisine at the hotel’s restaurant, the Riot House, offers an authentic gastronomic link to the French countryside.
The rooftop pool at WEHO’s other most stylish crash pad, the London West Hollywood, also merits major bragging rights. The London’s signature bathrooms are larger than most NYC studio apartments, and likely the subject of countless Facebook photos and ridiculously long baths (with multiple guests). Like the Andaz, the London offers a sizeable gym, but a more inspirational physical experience beckons at the nearby Crunch (crunch.com) on Sunset Blvd or the Sports Club LA (thesportsclubla.com) on Sepulveda – both wet dreams of muscle boys pumping iron with frequent sightings of the legend Carol Channing in a leotard at the latter.
By early evening, WEHO transforms into a concentrated commune of fabulous eats, celebrity sightings, and unadulterated fun. The sexy Cecconi’s (www.cecconiswesthollywood.com) serves Italian fusion to a svelte, calorie conscious clientele, more concerned with being seen than inhaling their tuna tartare. The irresistible diet anti-Christ, BLT Steak (www.bltsteak.com), caters to the foodie crowd, content scraping their plates for that one final bite of the decadent Lobster Cobb Salad, the over-stuffed Mushrooms, or the signature buttery Sole. Come 11pm, the world famous Abbey (www.abbeyfoodandbar.com) shows no signs of ending its long standing reign as America’s best gay bar. The oversized homo sanctuary has hosted LA’s who’s-who for nearly a decade, still championing the scene on Fridays and Sunday afternoons. Next door, Here Lounge (www.herelounge.com) is also mega popular these two evenings.
Naturally, an L.A. experience is never complete without a few notable celebrity sightings. Within West Hollywood, it’s likely you will see both the fabulous A-list and the ghetto- fabulous D-list at a Santa Monica Blvd. Starbucks or the 2:15am sloppy pizza stop after all clubs have closed, for that Us Weekly “they’re just like us” moment. My last trip to L.A., I perhaps took the “greatest piss of all,” smack-dab next to Orlando Bloom, sharing a bit of urinal rhapsody for a good 60 seconds (plenty of time to sneak a peek or two!). I downed a tequila shot at the Abbey with “New York” from the VH1 reality show “Flava of Love” (after I realized she was more than just another drag queen). Paris Hilton brushed by me at Millions of Milkshakes (millionsofmilkshakes.com), blowing drunk “air kisses” to her waning fan base.
