Life in Venice moves to an alternate cadence and no place more so than on the acclaimed Venice Boardwalk, authoritatively known as Ocean Front Walk. It’s a monstrosity show, a human zoo and a wacky festival bursting at the seams with Hula-Hoop entertainers, bygone jazz combos, solo mutilated carport rockers, and craftsmen (great and terrible) – to the extent LA encounters go, it’s an absolute necessity.

The Sunday-evening drum circle draws several revelers for ancestral sticking and unconstrained moving on the green hills (in some cases thumps move to the sand, also). In the event that the commotion doesn’t direct you there, simply follow your nose towards skunky cigarettes from cannabis shops. Try not to miss the labeled up towers and the unsupported solid divider, everlastingly open to airborne Picassos.

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