ALTHOUGH I MOVED to Los Angeles in 1990, I still get lost downtown. What the municipal government somewhat wishfully calls the Central City area is actually an amorphous zone, more or less bounded on the south by the Santa Monica Freeway, on the west by the Harbor Freeway, on the north by the Hollywood Freeway, and on the east by Alameda Street. And it contains multitudes: government buildings and courthouses clustered around city hall; the financial district; Grand Avenue, which is home to many of the city’s museums as well as the Music Center, including Walt Disney Concert Hall; the Broadway jewelry district, full of classic movie palaces; the tent cities and single-room-occupancy hotels on Skid Row; high-rise office towers and hotels along Flower and Figueroa Streets; and the Staples Center and LA Live entertainment complex, all surrounded by seemingly endless blocks of warehouses
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