If Key West, Florida, is the southernmost point in the US, then surely its West Coast sibling, Playa del Rey, one of the beach villages of Los Angeles, has a legitimate claim as the last toehold on the Pacific side of the continent. This is, of course, a totally inaccurate statement geographically (as there are indeed land points west of Playa), but spiritually it is not. Playa del Rey in LA is an outpost with the ease and simplicity that Key West wished it still retained.
I write this post with fond 
memories of Key West in the '70s and good vibrations about Playa as a more recent adopted hometown. Located within 10 minutes of Los Angeles International Airport (LAX), the village of Playa is only a few blocks long and fronts on a vast and often nearly empty beach, known best locally for its bike path and volleyball. There's a startling lack of pretense here, given narcissistic Venice Beach and Santa Monica up the beach to the north and dripping-rich Manhattan Beach five miles to the south down the Vista del Mar. While living in the nearby condo community of Playa Vista across the 
marshlands to the east, I escaped to Playa by the sea for weekend coffee, weeknight dinners, early morning bike rides and late afternoon beach walks. This living/working,village with a neighborhood spirit is a carefree and unadorned home at the end of the world for some lucky (and smart) Angelenos.
Don't get me wrong -- hip LA exists here, too, but not in heavy in-your-face doses. The mega-rich perch their five-story homes on steep bluffs and oceanfront hillsides. Just to the north is the Marina del Rey channel where celeb yachts, university crew teams and sailing school students compete for watery turf, and beyond that, the carnival of Venice Beach. In Playa on a rare clear day you get the filtered postcard view of the LA basin from the ocean east to the San Gabriel Mountains and their snowy peaks in winter. On maps, Playa is a mere pass-through from the Marina south to Manhattan Beach, and the locals love it that way.
Vestiges of the Italian fishermen in early LA remain in several authentic Italian restaurants. The best is Caffe Pinguini, casual and California fresh as if Mama were in the kitchen preparing fresh pasta, grilled fish and unadorned steamed vegetables for a weeknight dinner. A block away the French in-post, Bistro du Soleil, is a companionable homestyle country bistro. Cafe Milan holds forth as the breakfast hangout -- huge portions of food and typical LA seating on the sidewalks of a small strip mall. The Shack, a beer and hamburger joint, is the popular beach-bar hangout. I often opted for Tanner's Coffee (200 Culver Blvd.) across the street, a laid-back parlor with free wireless Internet.
Lucky for visitors, the Inn at Playa del Rey, one of the finest bed and breakfasts in California, sits at the entrance to town overlooking the wetlands. Gracious hospitality, uniquely appointed rooms and generous buffet breakfasts make this a popular destination for tourists and business travelers alike. Bike paths through the area go miles and miles north and south along the ocean. During long spring and summer mornings and evenings, birders and other Friends of the Ballona Wetlands group along the edges of the adjacent marshes studying the egrets and great herons. Wildlife have returned to land restored through tenacious environmentalism that has transformed oil and gas fields and the onetime Howard Hughes' famous airfield to a more natural state. Like any LA story, Playa has a history of survival against the odds.
