peerless piers

If you tell most people, even lifelong Angelenos, that you have spent a day in Malibu, Santa Monica and Venice, a readymade set of images will spring to mind: long, golden, sundrenched beaches, the laidback glitzy set in Malibu, shopping on the 3rd Street Mall and drinking at the British pub in Santa Monica, people rollerskating along the boardwalk past all the trinket and t-shirt shops on Venice Beach.
I have had exactly those experiences in those places on other days, but this day was nothing like any of that. I was with two of my friends, Maggie and Mike who, as a result of living near Deal pier on the Kent coast in south-east England, have become pier connoisseurs. And, on a misty November Monday, we were going to see the Malibu, Santa Monica and Venice piers.
We started by dropping down from the 101 freeway through the Malibu canyons to the coast which, without any fires to worry about, was pretty spectacular. Then we encountered the all-pervasive Malibu private security armies.
A gateway announced the entrance to the Malibu Lagoon State Beach, complete with opening hours (which we were well within). But we found ourselves in a private driveway policed by a couple of ersatz cop lookalikes who politely told us this was private land, not open to the public. So naturally we u-turned and continued on our way, but it sounds like a tax dodge to me.
Happily, the pier was only a few hundred yards down the road. It was like a quiet version of a British pier, with a few mainly Latino fishermen either at the sea end or dropping lines over the side surprisingly near to the beach. We had to assume they knew what they were doing. One caught a smallish fish, detached it from the hook and left it to die, wriggling, on the ground, almost delighting in ignoring it despite the loud noise its desperate flapping made in its death throes. Another pair were picking over the catch in a net, which didn't seem too promising.
Originally, like Malibu itself, the pier was privately owned but is now one of the National Parks properties. The pier had been built for the yacht owned by Frederick and Rhoda Rindge, who had owned Malibu since 1891 and after her husband died Rhoda fought a fierce battle to prevent public roads being run through the property - a battle that ended in defeat in the courts in 1929, when the State of California won the right to build the Pacific Coast Highway there.
The pier has recently been refurbished, with newly painted buildings that look ready to be turned into restaurants and shops. I hope that doesn't change the character of what, on the day we were there, was a delightfully tranquil spot on a misty, tranquil sea.
The Santa Monica pier is easily the biggest and best-known in the area, complete with a fun fair attached. On weekends it can get very crowded, and the main part of the pier is thronged with souvenir sellers. But, on this Monday, it was much more subdued - most vendors probably take the day off, deciding there isn't enough passing trade to make it worthwhile turning up. That's to the visitor's advantage, even though it does mean missing the weekly Sunday creation of the Arlington West tribute to GIs killed in Iraq.
By now it was lunchtime, and Santa Monica is probably the best of the three stops for a bite. We went to the Greek restaurant on 3rd Street - but beware, if you like wine or beer with your meal, you have to go round the corner to Wild Oats to get it: the restaurant is unlicensed.
Then it was back to the car for the short trip down to Venice pier. This is the most spartan of the three, and maybe the best one to visit when the sun is beginning to go down. It has no structures on it, other than the lookout. It is a straight concrete runway with wooden railings and no hawkers - just walkers, seagulls and a few hardy fishermen. It seems a world away from the bustle of nearby Culver City with its Sony film studios - the former MGM lot that made Wizard of Oz, Gone with the Wind and many other movie classics.