Even in its heyday, Playa del Rey was always a little sister to its more populous and successful neighbors Venice Beach and Marina del Rey.  I didn't even realize I was in Playa del Rey the first time I crossed over the bridge that separates it from Marina del Rey, I was just looking for a public restroom at six o'clock on a Saturday morning.  It wasn't until a few weeks later when I entered the village on the main drag through town - as I was brought up saying in the South - that I realized it was actually an entity unto itself.  Despite the fact that the main drag is just about the only drag, a few hours in Playa del Rey beats a full day in many places and I have it in my mind to go back and spent an evening at the Inn at Playa del Rey, an interesting looking B&B just as you enter town.

To follow my footsteps - and doesn't everyone want to - take the CA 90 W and turn left onto Culver Boulevard, the aformentioned Inn at Playa del Rey will be on your right.  Head down the street toward the ocean.  On the day I was there I was able to drive right by paid parking and easily find parking - shaded at that - on the street from there it's just a short walk down 

                        
                                  

                                                                           to the beach - 
                                       Marina del Rey breakwater and tiny, tiny sails in the distance.

Even mid-moring the beach was fairly uncluttered, peopled mostly by middle-aged walkers like me and a few people - young, old, individuals and families - on skates and bikes.  A fair paced walk down the beach led to a short stop at the well kept
                                        

                                        
                          

                                           - remember I'm middle-aged - rest area which from 
                                       above looks like an oasis out of some 1930s desert saga.

Then it was up, up, up for an invigorating and hot - take some water - walk through the residential hills that overlook the ocean; some great views in between the customary California houses clinging precariously to the hillside.  

                                 

The Ballona wetlands and the Marina del Rey harbor - trust me on this and sqint a little - break through whenever you find an infrequent break between houses.  Once back on level ground, the town holds two unexpected find..


                                    

                                                                     the Prince O' Whales

                                           called by some the oldest sports bar in Los Angeles 

and the six year old 

                                

                                                                       bistro du soleil

Who would have thought that on a triangle of street corner in Playa del Rey you could find authentic French food along with a quiet - the menu requests diners not talk on cell phones - environment.  The steak et frites comes highly recommended and the crepe martinique (a crepe filled with chocolate mousse, rum and raspberry sauce) made me wish I had at room at the Inn so I could have curled up pussycat style and gone to sleep but, alas, I had to drive back home before plunking down to purr.