On the Greyhound bus between Chicago and LA we had read the book “The Culture of Desire, paradox and perversity in gay lives today” a book we bought used for 4$ in Boston. One of the chapters tells the story about thirty-six fags, dykes, and drag queens taking of from San Francisco in a funky hippie bus driving to “the heart of blinding cultural darkness, southern California.” Among their stops is what in the book is described as the slightly tacky gay hostelry Coral Sands. The description of the motel, the pool and the darkened rooms made us curios if it still existed, and if so, could it live up to the decadence and darkness experienced by these thirty something queers? We arrived to the motel late afternoon, rather tired from having taken the bus from Las Vegas early in the morning. First one enters the reception; a dark room with the classical built in desk secured behind glass. After the check-in and giving away our passports you are lead through a brown laminated door into the core of the motel. Our room is placed on the first floor entering it from a balcony that overlooks the courtyard and the pool. The door opens inward not to block the balcony but even a door that opens inwards invites passers by to peak into the room and if having the courage entering the rooms of other guests, something we first realised much later in the evening.
The motel seemed empty and having our first night in LA we decided to visit a bar for a drink. The closest one was an old hangout called Spotlight that turned out to be the place for cheep drinks and 80’s look a likes. Entering through a black tarp draping the door leads into a long, dark and unadorned wood and mirrored space, which resembles a suburban rec room more than an infamous Hollywood haunt. Mature regulars hold court on the long bar to the right, while a motley amalgam of often good-looking neighborhood toughs and transgender occupy the left side and the pool table in the back. Frequent groups of hipsters dot the scene, some just to gawk, and some to blend in. �
We came back to the motel around three in the morning and found the space to be in full action. Once we had been buzzed in through the front reception area, we could witness the circular movement of betoweled men wandering clockwise from room to room looking for cheap sex in the two-tiered interior while the smell of crack wafts from under closed doors. Naked men of questionable origin loll and gag in the courtyard sauna and pool.
The space is entirely based on views; no bushy trees in the courtyard blocking the view, mirrors are placed in the rooms so that all angles are visible both from the interior as well as from the exterior. The overhang above the balcony just barely hangs down to a height so that you can lean under and flirt with the guy standing on the opposite side of the courtyard. Many of the visitors seemed to be regulars or staying for a longer time, some having decorated their room with scented candles or brought their own dildo collection placed in the window as a replacement of pot plants, using the window to signal their individual interests.
The Coral Sands, may be considered one step above (or perhaps below) a gay sauna, a queer space inhabited into a rather regular layout of the American Motel.
The motel room consist of a double bed, a TV that only show porn, a small fringe for cooling down drinks, a bath, a table and two chairs placed by the window, all windows facing toward the balcony and the courtyard. On the back wall there is placed a mirror reecting the bed as well as the window. Instant coffee is served all hours on a table outside the gym next to the pool.
A PUBLICATION MADE BY JOHAN CARLSSON AND MORTEN SØRENSEN. IF YOU WISH YOU COULD CONTACT US AT JOHAN@RACA.DK OR MORTEN.BOYNR8@GMAIL.COM