You can’t help but wonder how Marilyn Monroe must feel about Hugh Hefner, possibly the world’s greatest womaniser, purchasing the spot right next to hers in a private little cemetery in Los Angeles.
And I do mean a private little cemetery. We visited it on a recent tour of Beverly Hills and found it sheltered within a city block not too far from Rodeo Drive.
The entire cemetery is about the size of a largish garden, and you enter it by walking up a ramp. You’d never guess there was a cemetery there, let alone one housing (or should that be resting) the likes of Monroe.
Rodney Dangerfield is also there, next to one Farrah Fawcett, who can’t be too happy, especially as, in typical Dangerfield form, his tombstone says: “There goes the neighbourhood”. And I’m sure I heard Dangerfield chuckle as we were unceremoniously booted off the premises in our unmarked tour bus.
Cruising around Los Angeles can only be described as a surreal experience, like walking on the set of your favourite movies – our hotel was on Beverly Boulevard; our route started on Sunset Boulevard, proceeded along the wicked Malibu Beach coastline, then snaked into the twisty Malibu mountain ranges. We even drove along the infamous Mulholland Drive.
But Beverly Hills is all about the stars, and I think we soaked up our fair share of how they live.
Standing at the gate to Paramount Pictures I could almost hear the gossiping going on in Wisteria Lane, with that famous water tower in the background.
And then there was the Hollywood sign.
Our guide, who clearly was from a higher grade tour company, took us into the Hollywood hills, parked on a suburban street at the top and marched us between two houses onto what looked like a jogging path in the bush.
Not the usual tourist spot, but we stood at the foot of the hill on which that white wooden sign is erected.
To be honest, it doesn’t look as big in real life, but it is majestic – and again, you can’t believe you’re standing there after the countless times you’ve seen it on the silver screen.
The Hollywood Walk of Fame, with those golden stars lining the sidewalks, is as you’ve imagined it.
But we learnt that you’ve only really arrived when you’ve had your hands and feet cast in cement outside Grauman’s Chinese Theatre. That’s reserved for the real showbiz elite. The theatre itself – you know the one, it’s where they have many world movie premieres – feels like you’re entering the Forbidden City, such is the detail of Chinese architecture, fittings and finish.
We attended a 7pm screening of Anthony Hopkins’s latest thriller, The Rite, and, as can be expected, the screen and sound quality was world class, not to mention the refillable popcorn of which the first serving was enough for three.
The Kodak Theatre next door, which is the home of the Oscars, is also a little different from what you see on the telly. For one, it’s in a mall, and those stairs are not as long or as wide as they look.
It’s quite cool that the best movies of every year are listed on the walls, with the idea being that you see what won the Best Movie Oscar in the year you were born. My year was One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest… funny that.
I went on to stroke Marilyn inappropriately and punched Shrek at Madame Tussauds further down the road, shook Bumblebee and a scary Michael Jackson impersonator’s hands, walked through Hard Rock Hollywood, and had a drink at the Roosevelt Hotel across the road – another spot quite famous in movies.
Talking about Michael, there was also quite a macabre moment which found us standing in the driveway in front of the house he was renting for his final tour, and where he took his last breath. Fans have spraypainted little icons along the sidewalk to mark the spot. We could actually see, from the street, the window of the room he slept in. Eish.
But things took on a lighter note when we drove past the little brown Beverly Hills sign, and the bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel where Monroe and JFK got to know each other a little better; we searched for the Fresh Prince on the lawns of that house in Bel-Air, gawked at the prices (and Bijan’s black and yellow Bugatti Veyron) on Rodeo Drive (which is actually just a block or two long), and saw the penthouse at the top of the Beverly Hills Hilton which Paris calls home.
The tour guide wouldn’t let me jump over the back gate to the Playboy mansion, which at the lowest point is probably under two metres high. And I’m convinced Nancy Reagan’s officially senile: we saw the huge bunker she’s building with mine-dump sized excavation in progress.
And just in case you think we didn’t do the stars justice, we checked out the living arrangements of Charlie Chaplin, Jack Nicholson, Jackie Chan, Christina Aguilera, David Beckham, Dr Phil, Elizabeth Taylor, Janet Jackson, Johnny Depp, Nicholas Cage, Justin Timberlake, Ronald Reagan and Rod Stewart. To name a few.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, Aaron Spelling’s 132-room mansion is up for sale. At around a billion rand it’s apparently the highest price yet asked, and rumour has it that Oprah’s interested. Like I said, our $150-an-hour guide was of the super sleuth variety.
And here’s a bit of trivia for you: every residential street in Beverly Hills has just one type of tree lining it. The famous street you’re imagining, with the tall palm trees, is called Beverly Drive, and it’s the only one with those trees.
Then there’s the nightlife, the cars, and the famous clubs.
We walked passed the Viper Room (where River Phoenix died on the sidewalk), stared into places like the Comedy Club and Whiskey a Go Go where many a career was born and which, to this day, the cream of Hollywood frequents, and soaked in the vibe that is Hollywood and LA.
The surprising thing is how controlled and law-abiding everybody is – even at 2am nobody on Hollywood Boulevard would think about jaywalking, let alone skipping a red light.
And, to be honest, we only touched the surface.
There’s tours of all the major studios, theme parks, a Disney World, museums – Tinseltown’s a huge place. But it does seem to have it all – great beaches, great mountains, great roads and, of course, Hollywood.
More info: Google Los Angeles or Hollywood Tourism. Useful sites are www.Latourist.com and www.visithollywood.com - Saturday Star