Day 285 - That's Almost It.

Wow, this morning was horrible. I downed a Gatorade, almost all of which was immediately absorbed by my parched tongue, and we did our final packing (everything in one bag, well done me!), not getting out of the room until about 1. A post office was visited, a Japanese picnic was purchased, and the lotion section of Bath & Body Works was raided (Pat likes to have nice skin, OK?) and we got a cab to Central Park for one last sunbathe. We found a nice spot near the zoo, sat up on a bank and ate our lunches while some Jazz buskers (who knew they existed? They had a drum kit and a double bass!) performed down below. All in all, with the sun, sushi and jazz, it was a pretty perfect day - pity we only had an hour to enjoy it before we had to go back and get our car to the airport. we spent a good 10 minutes finding a cab, but we got back just in time to hop into our rather fancy Lincoln town car. The journey would have been fine if the driver hadn't been an idiot. He took us all round Manhattan, seemingly avoiding the freeways, and we eventually crossed the Williamsburg bridge after half an hour. We then proceeded to drive right through Brooklyn and Queens, not a freeway in sight, going all round the residential zones, so that the journey took us an hour and a half. When I took Clare yesterday, it took half an hour. I think the guy was trying to avoid the tolls to keep the $5 for himself. I said farewell to Pat, promising to see him in London before he goes to Berlin, paid the driver (and added a rubbish tip - he can keep his toll money). Due to my lateness, all the exit seats were gone, so I ended up right at the back in the centre aisle seat, which is crap. I was next to a cute french girl though, which made up for it - until her Dad came up and asked to swap seats as she got nervous flying. consequently, I am now in the exact middle of the plane - no aisle, no window, no nothing. Bollocks. Also, Iberia is the worst airline I have flown with on this trip. I mean, AA were rubbish, but I only used them for little internal flights. This is a trans-atlantic flight, and the only entertainment system is the one screen every four rows type, showing two movies for the whole trip. The staff have not come round once since the appalling meal, and consequently I am incredibly thirsty. They turned all the lights off incredibly early (I suppose Spain is 6 hours ahead, so it makes sense) and I am not in the least bit tired after a 20 minute nap, so I am going to arrive in Barcelona having had no sleep whatsoever. Also I have to change planes in Madrid, and have no phone with which to call Dad to find out what's going on and where he wants me to get the train to. That last bit isn't Iberia's fault, but I feel like blaming them right now anyway.

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I was just overcome with a huge swell of emotion, partly due to the film I just watched - Penelope starring Christina Ricci (and Richard E. Grant, James McAvoy, Simon Wells, Lenny Henry, Reese Witherspoon, Russell Brand and Nick Frost among others), a very sweet tale of a girl cursed with a pig's face. I thought she looked cute with it, but then again I think it's very hard to make her look bad.

So yes, back to the emotion - Pat has been saying over the last few days that he is intrigued to find out what I will end up doing and who I will become etc. I am intrigued too, but in a kind of 'I would like to stand back and watch it unfold' kind of way, rather than facing looming unemployment, skintnesss (the US has ruined me), and general uncertainty. I have been giving it all a lot of thought these last 285 days, but no plans or great desires have presented themselves to my questing mind. This is, understandably, a cause for concern - I have only thought as far ahead as going home for a week or so, then heading up to Field Day with Joynes & co. on the 9th, after which I will be in London on a semi-permanent basis. Quite where I have yet to figure out. Hmm, interesting times...

Day 283-284 - A Couple Of Fun Last Nights

Day 283 (Wednesday 23rd) - MoMa And Clare's Last Day

Due to the lateness of the cinema we didn't manage to get anywhere useful until after noon. We headed straight to the Museum Of Modern Art, which was really interesting but far too much to deal with in one day. Clare finished first, at which point I had only just made it onto the third floor (modern design), having started at the fifth. Pat was way behind me. He caught me up and we breezed through the rest of the exhibits, but I got to the the design stuff which is what I wanted. We went for a cocktail at a place called Katwalk, apparently mentioned in the Sex And The city movie (Pat and I tried to care - we failed) then we came back and Clare packed for her early morning departure. We had intended to spend some time meandering around SoHo, but in the end we didn't get out for dinner until 9ish. We ended up just going to Joe's Pizza as recommended by my friend Hans in New Zealand, which turned out to be just another takeaway pizza place. Well, I say that, it was actually delicious and possibly the best pizza I had had in quite a while. We decided this was our appetizer, so we rushed over the road to Trattoria Spaghetto for some reasonable pasta and wine. The meal was actually very exciting, mainly because there was an enormous thunderstorm in progress, with the loudest thunder I have ever heard. In spite of the downpour, due to the heat all the doors and windows were thrown open, making for quite a unique dining experience. After this, and after the rain had died down enough for us to find a cab, we went home and discovered it was somehow half past midnight, and Clare and I had to be up in  4 1/2 hours.

Day 284 (Thursday 24th) - Hasta La Vista Clarey

Clare and I were up at 5 am (5!) to head out to the airport. We got a cab, and it took a very short amount of time - so short in fact that we needn't have got up until half 6, which is somewhat annoying. Clare should be waiting at the gate as we speak, I would say I am sad to see her leave but I'll be seeing her in about 48 hours, so I'm not too cut up about it all. I got the subway back, and thanks to the entire musical output of M.I.A. I survived without falling asleep anywhere along the way. It is now 0804 and I'm going back to bed for a bit.

Pat and I made it to the American Museum Of Natural History around half two - god knows what we did for the rest of the day. We stayed in there until closing time, and had a great day. Our favourites were the Dinosaur and Pacific Peoples exhibits - there were some incredible fossils and skeletons on show, and we both learnt a lot about Micro & Polynesian places too. We had a bit of a nostalgic look at the Asian Culture section too, with plenty of "Hey, I've been there!" from both of us. ALso we went into the planetarium. I have never been to one before, and this one was quite an introduction. It looked like Cerebro from X-Men, and the show started with an incredible line - I quote "Hi, I'm Robert Redford. Welcome to..." A very troy McClure moment, awesome. when we were kicked out we headed to American Apparel where we stocked up on various things for 60% of the British prices, then headed home and started packing.

We had dinner en route to Devin, who had put together an itinerary of bars, all of which had some unique feature about them. We started in one called the Three Cups, which had an awesome girl behind the bar, all tattoos and pushed-up things jiggling at us. After a couple of cheap pints we headed over to a little bar called KGB, which is apparently very popular with writers and others in the film profession. The main reason we went there is because 2 x 4, our original destination, was dead when we went in, so we decided to give it some time. On our return, we found the place to be much busier, so we remained. The unique feature about  2 x 4 was that it is an extremely American bar. It has road signs all over the (plank covered) walls, a bar with two poles attached, a pool table and a soundtrack that mainly seemed to consist of Lynyrd Skynyrd and Bon Jovi. Awesome. Another great feature is that, at seemingly random intervals, the ladies behind the bar (neither of whom were stunners, but one of whom was surgically inflated to the point where noone cared anymore) would jump up and do some frankly impressive poledance routines. We watched this, played some pool, and generally had some raucous fun for a while before moving on to our next destination, The Box. This is a burlesque place that Megan recommended to us as being somewhere a bit sexy and a bit classy. Whatever it was, it was also a bit exclusive. There were no signs outside, we only knew when we got there because of the address, and the fact that there was a small queue outside as well. This queue was mostly girls, who weren't being let in, so there was no hope for us. After a few failed attempts at gaining entry, we carried on wandering and ended up at Famous Ray's Pizza, where I had had the rather unpleasant stromboli last Wednesday. Our pizza was far more agreeable, and afterwards we managed to persuade Devin (who had to be up at half four to fly to a wedding) to come for one more. This we did at Devin's favourite bar in New York - called Welcome To The Johnsons, it is a little place decorated to look like a 1970s American basement, down to the large brown fridge, plastic covered couches and family portraits. I was a big fan of the place, but unfortunately we could only stay for one, as we had a final destination - Max Fish (also somewhere we had been to on Wednesday). As we were leaving Devin engaged in some banter with some girls outside, and finished with "well you all found it funny - except this dude" with a casual wave at a serious looking short guy nearby. For some reason he took great offence to this (he also happened to be with one of the girls Devin had been talking to), and walked up swinging his bike lock in what he thought was a menacing fashion. Devin however was having none of it, and once he had established that the guy wasn't going to anything with the lock, he ripped into the guy mercilessly, making him look like an idiot in front of his friends. fair enough for a guy who, finding himself the foil for an innocent flippant comment from a stranger, decides the best way to regain dignity is to threaten said stranger with a massive lump of metal.

Anyway, en route to Max Fish we met a girl and some guys who were also going there, but who warned us that it would be "cock soup" according to the girl. I assured her that it was fine, and that we had "previously frequented the establishment". This was met with a snort of derision, as she tore into me for being overly English. I spluttered protests, but Devin chimed in and told me that she was right, which is fair enough - I have been playing it up a little. Anyway, Devin left, and Pat and I went into Max Fish and were quickly seperated. I sat down next to a girl on a sofa, and asked her what was troubling her - she looked perturbed. She told me (with surprising frankness) about her dilemma - there were two blokes here that she was seeing, neither of whom knew about the other, and between whom she could not choose. Together we deconstructed them both, listing pros and cons, until she came to a startling realisation - "This is going pretty well, right? Maybe I should just leave with you?" I told her this was a great idea. She looked around, saw that dude no. 1 was at the bar facing the other way, and then turned round and kissed me I was surprised, but did not object. This continued for a time, foolish as it was. Whenever both the blokes were looking away, we'd make out for a few furtive seconds. At one point dude no. 2 came over, sat and chatted to us for a bit, then wandered off again. I should mention here that both of them were enormous black guys, and that Daniela (for that was her name) had many and varied tattoos, including a large red 'D' on her neck, that I thought was beautiful. Anyway, to cut a long and rambling story short, eventually she decided it was time to leave. I walked her to a cab, got a kiss goodnight, and strolled back into the bar, where I was met by dude no. 1."Hey, I just saw you leave with Daniela" he said. "Where did she go?" Buoyed by unwarranted confidence, I replied "Dunno mate, she just went to get a cab and asked me to help find one for her" with not a hint of panic or worry. He thanked me and left, at which time I spied Pat and decided it was probably time to leave. I don't know what time it was when we departed, but I do know that we saw the dawn break as we arrived back at the hotel. All in all, a very fun last night.

Day 282 - Midtown

Today we started off with breakfast at the Gramercy Café - we had an enormous plate of pancakes and bacon, accompanied by a mound of packs of maple syrup and butter. I managed about 2/3 of it, while Clare demolished hers with gusto, while calling me a wimp, I believe. Times Square was our first stop, on a quest for a Mets shirt for Clare, then we headed to 5th avenue to check out a couple of shops. I had booked tickets to see The Dark Knight at an IMAX, so we went into the Apple Store so I could check where exactly the cinema was. I soon discovered that I had booked tickets 30 miles away in Nyack, New York state, not just the other side of the park as I had thought. This was slightly annoying, and the only solution I could find was to discard those tickets as a lost cause, and book tickets for a cinema on Broadway for 10 this evening. This left us with some extra time, which we filled by first going into Trump Tower for a drink in the frankly rubbish Trump Bar. We had some good cocktails, but the ridiculously 80s pink marble and polished copper decor got tiresome on the eyes very quickly. Our next port of call was the Grand Central Station Oyster Bar, which would have been awesome if any of us had been having oysters. As it was, Clare got a rubbish looking salad, I had the blandest tuna steak I've ever eaten, and I forget what Pat had but it wasn't too good. Just to complete this rubbish day, we then went and queued around the Empire State Building for ages, which is an inexplicable tourist attraction. Well, one can see why it's popular, they just need to work on the efficiency of their system. We jumped the first queue as we already had tickets, then had to queue for the first lift, the picture we didn't want (but ended up getting because Clare loved how grumpy we all looked),  then for the second lift, then to get outside, then joined another queue to walk round the viewing platform, then to get back down to street level. All in all, quite cattle-like and depressing. The Dark Knight, however, was awesome. It was also extremely long, meaning that by the time it had finished and we had returned home, it was well past 1 and time for a sleep. With the exception of the last three hours or so, what a crap day that was.

Day 281 - Shops, Steak & Irish Bars

Today was designated as a shopping day. Our first stop was Dunkin' Donuts, for a delicious and greasy all American breakfast, then onto Bloomingdale's. Bloomingdales is an odd place - it occupies an entire city block, but yet somehow, as far as men's clothing is concerned at least, seems to be entirely full of Ralph Lauren clothing and clones thereof. Pat loved the place, but I got bored of looking at stuff I'd never wear and buggered off over the road to Urban Outfitters, where I ended up getting trousers, shorts, t-shirts, pants and a few other things. On my way out I encountered Clare coming up the stairs - she also was not a fan of the stuff in Bloomingdales, so she had come over too. We searched for jeans in the Levi store, then wandered down to a couple of other places we wanted to check out - namely the New York Public Library (grand and serene, but not really a place to wander around if you don't have some research or reading to do) and St Patrick's cathedral, where Pat wants to get married, apparently. He lit a candle and did various things that I feel were far more reverential of Christianity than his normal Atheist stance (mere days earlier we had been discussing how much we were looking forward to raising children in an Atheist environment), while Clare and I wandered about and had a sit down. An interesting fact about Pat - you know how Catholics, when confirmed, take their confirmation saint's name as a middle name? Pat chose - you guessed it - St. Patrick as his saint, which moved his priest to describe him as "the most egotistical boy" he had ever met. So if you observe that tradition, Pat's full name is Patrick Patrick Simon Bennett. Our dinner choice for the evening was one Pat had been looking forward to immensely - a steak restaurant by the name of The Striphouse. It is "decorated with black & white seductive images of women photographed by Studio Manasse in the early 1900's in Vienna", has red walls and furnishings, and served awesome food. Having been greeted by a maitre d' who resembled a walrus, we sat down with our incredibly strong cocktails for one of the best meals I've had, ever. Pat and I started with foie gras, while Clare had a Gorgonzola fondue, both awesome - I'm drooling as I remember it. We followed this up with fillet for Clare and Pat, with a ribeye for me, accompanied by a selection of sauces (BBQ, sweet chili, house steak sauce, blue cheese, and some others) and washed down with a $100 bottle of wine which Pat insisted we get. There may well have been desserts, but I have forgotten them due to the deliciousness of the steak and wine. After this place, inelegantly stuffed, we moved on to an Irish bar called Bull O'Cabe's, where we met some students, including a girl called Emily in an incredible dress, and a scary girl against whom we played pool for a while. She won a few, then left immediately after I beat her. Bad loser. Clare returned to the hotel, and Pat and I headed to the bar owned by the family of the bartender at Waxy O'Connor's, Miami. The place is called Nevada Smith's, and we were assured that if we mentioned his name we could get a drink on the house - all this was due to him being very bored and having a rubbish night, and to us being the only customers who weren't drunk/annoying/American. And Pat went out to get him fags. Anyway, Nevada Smith's made good on this promise - I got a free pint and Pat got an incredibly strong whisky and ginger, by which I mean at least 70% the former, 30% the latter. We chatted to the bloke behind the bar for a while about the difficulties of the New York dating scene, and a load of other nonsense to boot and, suitably sloshed, we wandered home past a surprising amount of people with instruments, having a 3 am jam on a traffic island. Odd.

Day 280 - Guggenheim, Russell Brand and Souk

Our first stop today was the Guggenheim museum for the Louise Bourgeoise exhibition, which was interesting and cool, although Clare had already seen it and as a consequence she was done a good hour before we were. We got Snocones (flavourless and horrible, by the way) and walked through Central Park for a while. Clare was boiling and a little but against the idea (remember "no relief" from yesterday's weather forecast), until we found a bit of the park where Pat and I could lie in the sun and watch some people playing baseball, and Clare could lie under a tree and have a read. We also found a castle, and the Turtle Pond, which is full of turtles swimming about under a layer of pondweed. These cheered Clare up a bit, and as we walked through we suddenly happened upon a massive concert about which we had heard nothing. Central Park is just too massive. I forget what our original plans were for the afternoon, but I do remember that we failed to achieve them. On our way home we happened to spot that Russell Brand was doing stand-up in the Blender theatre near our hotel. I ran (no idea why, it was still at least 30°) up from the restaurant we were in and there was a queue round the block, so we gave up and settled down to an awesome sushi dinner. After this we wandered by the theatre, and found that there were still two tickets left after the queue had dissipated, so Clare and Pat got those and I nipped round the corner and got one off a tout for $60, which wasn't too much of a markup. The chap on the door was very kind and let me in, even though it clearly said Eleanor Davies on the ticket and it told him he had already scanned it, which was awesome of him. The show was incredibly funny, and as a result of his ubiquitous media presence - especially from his weekly podcast, almost all of which I have listened to - I felt quite a lot like I knew him, and I had heard radio friendly versions of a few of his tales, which made the fully explicit versions even funnier. Russ's sex tips was an entertaining segment of the show. In summary, this involved spitting, gagging, raspberries, embarrassment,  and other things I shall remember until the day I die. Clare was genuinely shocked for a lot of it, saying afterwards that she had never heard anyone say some of the stuff he had said out loud before. After the show we walked along 3rd avenue for a bit, and consequently decided that the girl we had met in Still a few nights earlier was lying about this being a big college area. Some girls we saw told us to check out Souk, which turned out to just be a fairly average arabian bar with the same dull music as in Rehab, however it did have apple Hookah available and some girls going round selling shots in giant syringes, which they insisted on administering to us. Once again, this place was full of gorgeous girls, many of whom were attached to older middle eastern guys, in a series of improbable matchups. On our way home from this place we stopped by the amazing Gramercy Café, at the end of our road and open 24 hours, with an incredibly extensive menu. Here we indulged in some Sloppy Joes before collapsing into a greasy slumber.

Day 277-279 - Clare Has Arrived!

Day 277 (Thursday 17th) - Clare's Arrival

I woke up in all my clothes, still drunk and panicking. hurriedly I managed to load Pat into a cab with all of our luggage, to only mild protests, and went to get the subway out to the airport. Due to one of those inexplicable quirks of subway systems worldwide, the train changed destinations at random, and I went four stops in the wrong direction before I noticed, changed trains twice, and went the right way. consequently I arrived at the airport at half 11, whereas Clare should have got in at 1120. Luckily (for me) immigration were very finicky about everything and took ages, so I was there in time to pick her up. The shuttle bus back into the city took ages, far longer than the subway would have taken. There was loads of traffic, we were the last drop off, and finally there was some big accident and the road was shut off. Eventually we made it to the Liberty View building, 99 Battery Place, which is a huge apartment building down by the waterside, just seconds from battery park, from where we can see the statue of liberty. Within this building is the flat that Julie had lent us for the night. We were all in need of a bit of a wash and brush up, so it took far longer than expected for us to make it down to the park for a Burrito and an explore - we wandered around the area for a while, and came back for a nap, which ended up  lasting far too long - it was dark when we awoke, and the bedroom was flooded - something had gone awry in the bathroom, and there had been water leaking into the room and all over the carpet for ages. We called maintenance, who said they'd sand someone in the morning, and as there was nothing we could do we went out to a bar called Edward's for a drink or two, and explored the financial district at night - there's not much going on.

Day 278 (Friday 18th) - Exporing Downtown & Brooklyn

From Julie's balcony you can see the former WTC site, or 'Ground Zero'. For some reason we (well, I) decided to walk by it on our way out. It was, well, it was bug and empty, and didn't inspire anything at all in me really. Then again I didn't really expect it to. We walked across the city to the Brooklyn Bridge, getting hotter all the time. Clare didn't cope too well, as it was at least 35 degrees. She was not too keen on the idea of walking halfway across the bridge, but we did it anyway. Along the way we saw loads of enterprising people flogging drinks from coolers, and an old woman wandered by in just a skirt and a bra, much to Clare's disgust - she yelled frantically to attract Pat's attention to the spectacle. We found our way down to Pier 17, where we had some cocktails and then caught a speedboat around the south end of the Island, out to Liberty Island and back. All this done, we returned to Julie's, where we found that the maintenance guy had come and removed the soaked floorboards - oops - and we moved to Hotel 17, where we were to spend all the rest of our time in New York. Pat and I went to a bar called Still while we waited for Clare, and met a girl called Ann who said she could hook us up with entry to Pink Elephant, apparently one of the best clubs in NY. When Clare arrived we headed to what we thought was the meatpacking district where we found a cool Italian restaurant called Vento, which was pretty awesome. Devin rang while we were there, and invited us to come over to Brooklyn to visit a few bars. The first one had awesome decking filling the outside, with coved edges that one could slump in for hours. Angelo joined us before too long, and we moved on to the next bar - this one was also pretty cool, full of arcade machines all round three of the walls, around which about 80% of the blokes in the bar were crowded. The next place I shall refer to as the Skeeball bar. It was just a pretty standard bar, but it had a game called (as you may have guessed) Skeeball in it. This involves rolling a ball up a wee slope into one of a series of holes. I sucked, Clare was OK at it, and Pat ruled. Twice he topped the 300 mark with 9 balls, which earnt him a free beer each time from the somewhat surly lady at the bar. Next stop was a swanky little cocktail bar where we were joined by Julie (incredibly, as it was about midnight and she had only just flown in from L.A.), and then after an overpriced drink we arrived at our last bar of the evening, which was a quiet little gay bar. Devin and I picked up on this immediately, but noone else seemed to notice - not that it's important, merely an observation. here they did $5 PBR and a shot - this is a can of Pabst Blue Ribbon beer and a well shot (house spirits in English). PBR is a very cheap, very American beer that I remember people drinking back in Hong Kong, as it may well have been cheaper than coke. We were all falling about by this point, to the point where when we eventually got on the subway (which runs 24 hours a day, incredible!) Clare fell asleep with her head against my outstretched fist. We walked home via a convenience store from which we got some rather rubbish paninis, and  so to bed. We had been discussing plans for our Saturday all night, which ended up being as follows: go to Coney Island for the day, be out of the house and on our way to a rendezvous point (to be decided) by noon.

Day 279 (Saturday 19th) - A Cultural Day

Well, our plans evidently failed. We awoke at noon, and I texted Devin and Angelo to gauge enthusiasm for our day out at Coney Island. The response from Angelo was "Moving slow..." and I received similar sentiments from Devin. Instead we decided to meet them in Little Italy for lunch. We ended up being rather late (something only I was bothered about, apparently). We had a pretty good lunch, accompanied by much needed Bloody Marys all round. We wandered Little Italy and Chinatown, looked at plenty of odd stuff, Pat and I ate a load of Longans and Clare purchased a much needed fan. The others left to go about their days, and Clare, Pat and I walked through Sara D Roosevelt park towards the New Museum. There were loads of sporty things going on in the park, despite the incredible heat. The New Museum was pretty cool - it is a fairly incongruous building on The Bowery, looking as if it's been made by stacking a few massive irregular cubes atop one another. We had a beer in the 7th floor viewing room, which has wicked views all over the city, then proceeded through the galleries. I am writing this 23 days after the visit, so please forgive the fact that I can remember none of the artists. There was something in there I have never seen before - a living sculpture. There was a chick on the floor in one of the rooms, writhing (if you can call it that) very slowly in a supposedly preplanned fashion, as per some instructions laid out by the artist (Tino Sehgal, I have just found out - the exhibition was called After Nature). Also there was a room given over to the works of an Israeli artist the name of whom I have completely forgotten. She had some sculptures made by repeatedly dipping barbed wire in the dead sea, and some video art in there too. After the museum we walked through SoHo for a bit, via some really cool little clothes shops (Pat wasn't into them, decrying them as 'individual', which is Pat-speak for 'nothing I'd ever wear in a million years'). We had another date with Devin and Angelo, to see Barry McGovern in I'll go on by Samuel Beckett. It was great, really intense, funny and fast-paced all at once. Our day took a slightly downhill path after this, as we headed to a place called bar Rehab where a friend of Devin's was supposedly DJing. It was fun to begin with, but after a while this waned. I found myself struck with self-consciousness in an enormous way, as I fancied a bit of a dance but found I couldn't with Clare there. She is not a fan of the dancing, you see, and I don't think I've seen her do any in the last five years or so. Megan from the other night was there, looking stunning and intimidating, along with a Dutch friend named Anaïs. She was also gorgeous, and a good laugh - she danced like, well, like one of those irregular pendulums with hinged arms you get in science museums, which kind of flail about everywhere. She looked good doing it as well. Devin stunned us all by pulling out his dance training - Swing, Salsa, and soon to be augmented by Lindyhop, apparently - and became the sexiest man in the world for a while. There were gorgeous girls everywhere, although the place did have one detractor - the music. There was some D & B downstairs for a while, but by the time I had persuaded people to come and check it out it had been replaced by a distinctly average live band. Upstairs was just playing crappy pop and r 'n' b, neither of which were very inspiring. We eventually left Devin and the girls to it, and rolled home via some pizza, arriving in the room at 0340, ready for another sweltering day - according to the TV in the cab, it was 95° today and will be at least 90° tomorrow - the forecast actually said "no relief" which you can imagine cheered Clare up no end.

Day 276 - Exploring, Devin, Angelo And The Amazing Julie

Wow, I feel far better today. Yesterday I felt terrible, probably as a result of not enough sleep, no food, residual last night effects and the worries about Clare. Truly refreshed, we rolled out to check out some places, stopping at Broadway Bagel for breakfast. We headed straight to Hotel 17 and the Hotel Chelsea. The latter was full for a few days, but the former had loads of room (and was recommended by Clare through the wonder of asking strangers on Livejournal) so we made a booking for Thursday to Sunday. Joyous that everything was now ostensibly sorted out, Pat and I wandered all the way from 23rd up to the Bethesda Fountain in Central Park, along 5th Avenue - this is a distance of some 49 city blocks - 58 if you count the fact that we started off at Union Square. We bought a few bits and pieces (including some ridiculous red Ralph Lauren shorts), had a look at the fancy Apple store and I had a poo in the Empire State Building. In the park we caught some free opera at the amphitheatre, caught some buskers playing oboe and clarinet, and generally had a lovely afternoon. From here we went to meet Devin somewhere around Washington Square Park, in an awesome bar called the Old Rabbit, which was just a bar, some stools, and a fantastic selection of beers. Devin, Pat and I discussed our time at Uni (I had entirely forgotten that Devin had come to stay with us in Camden for a week in the second year) and we met his friend Megan (gorgeous, some kind of editor for Vogue), Angelo (who I had met before in London, and who was Devin's accomplice in the great keg theft of '04) and the incredibly generous Julie (Angelo's wonderful girlfriend). As to why she was so generous - when we told them of our annoying accommodation situation Devin offered to put two of us up in his place, and Julie offered us her whole apartment. Well, it belongs to her company, and she's staying while she's here on business, but as she's off back to California for a night we could have it until she got back, thereby saving us $200 or so. All this having just met us this evening. We adjourned to Famous Ray's Pizza where I had a stromboli (odd yet tasty - regretted it the next day though) before going round the corner to a bar called Max Fish. After a decent amount of time (well, indecent for people who had to go to work in the morning) they all left, leaving Pat and I to our own devices. We stayed for a while, and as I remembered I had to pick Clare up from the airport in the morning we decided to leave. As we were walking out, around half four, two (really gorgeous) girls who we had been, well, looking at and chatting about inside came over to tell us that they thought we were "so adorable". I stopped, thought, made a small noise of anguish, and had to tell them we were leaving as I had to pick up my sister from the airport. I am making no exaggeration when I say that it physically hurt to leave. I hope Clare appreciates the sacrifices I have made to make sure she has a nice time. Bugger.

Day 275 - Miami To New York

We went out for a couple of drinks after we got in, it is now 0545 and I am still up. A couple of drinks was just that (3 in fact), mostly in pursuit of a couple of Irish girls from the hostel. They said they were going to an Irish bar, so off we went to Playwrights for one, Pat got confused about their identities and we decided they weren't there, and retired to Waxy O'Connor's across the road. In Waxy's we nursed a pint for ages, and the stressed out Irish barman sent Pat off to buy him some fags, which may explain some of the rest of the evening events. We sat and watched some baseball, decided to get a second pint, and just after we did this a girl came over to invite Pat over to join her and her friends. After some indecision I went over too, talked to one of them who was quite interesting, then somehow ended up talking to the third one, Sarah, about lots of subjects I really didn't want to discuss. These included, amongst others, guns and mace and other apparently ubiquitous weaponry. I think I made my pacifist case quite well, but you never can tell. She said she was "leaving after this drink" about three times, and had a problem with some girl from the bathroom, who I ended up talking to instead - she was an astonishingly hot girl (lady, rather - all of these people were at least 30, I think. Although that's a Miami 30, which is a confusing age) who was all in white, works in a gallery and as it turns out is the exclusive representative of Peter Lik. She was cool and gorgeous and funny, said the c-word a couple of times and entirely relished it, but when they kicked us out she immediately rushed off and got a cab, and God knows what her name is. Bugger. We returned to the hostel and I had a mild encounter with a hot Irish chick who liked my hair, inexplicably, but that's it. Goodnight.

So to continue the mammoth day I was up at 9ish feeling exhausted, and we headed off to the airport. Annoyingly, our flight was delayed by an hour and a half due to the crazy rainstorm that occurred. We checked in with no fuss, and I hung out and listened to That's What She Said - Emerald and Angela's radio show from Isla Vista - for a bit. Pat was asleep before we took off, and the very friendly air steward moved us from front seats to exit seats, which had loads more legroom. he could see we were in trouble and needed to stretch out and sleep. What a hero. For the entire flight we alternated dozing and listening to Air, which we swapped for Prince as we landed. For some reason this made us incredibly happy. I tried to persuade Pat to get the subway to the hostel, but he made some good points about luggage and laziness, so I conceded. We had some nice views of the city as we came in to Manhattan, but our mood was rather soured when we arrived at Jazz On The Park. The place was rubbish. The rooms were cramped and run down, the beds were tiny and squeaky, and it just seemed like somewhere Clare definitely would not enjoy. We tried to sleep for an hour but failed, so instead we went to try and switch rooms which took well over an hour. The staff were friendly and helpful enough, although the girl at reception didn't have a clue what she was doing, whereas the dude (Victor) knew what was going on and sorted us out. All this time we were also doing some research about other places to stay, most of which was fruitless. We were moved to an empty 4 bed with no air conditioning (it is stupidly hot here), then eventually to what they claimed was a twin room, but was in fact a bunk. By this point I was so knackered that we gave up and took it for two nights, pledging to look for somewhere else tomorrow. As things stand, we have this room for two nights, then a booking (not yet paid for) for three more afterwards, for the three of us in a dorm. All this nonsense set aside, we walked to Broadway for dinner, and stopped at the Lime Leaf Thai restaurant. Pat and I had an awesome pad see yew & monkfish stuffed with prawns respectively, all of which was delicious. We walked 10 blocks or so along Broadway then back along Amsterdam, and along the way we checked out a family room at Jazz On The City which was perfect for us. It was clean and freshly renovated, had a double and a bunk bed, towels and soap supplied, and was also booked solid for the next few weeks. The only night it was empty was tonight, unfortunately. We will resume our searching tomorrow, as it is now nearly 1 am, clearly time for a long sleep. I am really worried Clare will hate it here - this is the first time in ages that someone else's happiness has been directly in my hands, and it's rather overwhelming. Fingers crossed, eh?

Day 272-274 - Miami And A Disappointing Trip To The Bahamas

Day 272 (Saturday 12th) - Moving Again, And A Night In

We had to move again, due to availability - this city is entirely full, it seems. This was fine, as waking up in our chintz-ridden room was horrible today, so we packed up and moved to Jazz Hostel South Beach, and then fled quickly down to a place on Ocean Drive called Johnny Rockets, an agreeable 50s style diner. I had a chili dog, possibly unadvisedly, and we strolled down to the beach for a refreshing dip. It worked, and we instantly felt far better - only for a short time however, as it started to rain very soon after we arrived. This didn't seem to bother most of the people on the beach, most of whom simply covered up their sound systems and waited for the return of the sun. Pat and I decided to go to the cinema, and walked down to Lincoln road, a leafy shopping area up. We had a nice stroll, and spent ages in the Peter Lik gallery (Australian photographer - look him up, he's awesome) before dropping into Banana Republic to get some very un-me clothes for our surprise trip tomorrow. We went to see Hancock, which was really good in spite of itself, if you know what I mean., and finished off the day with a load of Jack Daniels marinaded treats, a bottle of wine, a cocktail and an absurdly big steak sandwich in T.G.I. Friday's. Almost immediately I started feeling really ill, so we headed back to the hostel, which was buzzing with activity. We finished off the whiskey we bought the other night while everyone else drank swiftly as they were all going to a club called Space, on a bus organised by the hostel. We declined that particular option, as we have to be up at 5 tomorrow for our mystery journey.

Day 273 (Sunday 13th) - Miami - Port Lucaya, Grand Bahama

Wow. We were up at 5 am to be picked up by a shuttle bus, on our way to Fort Lauderdale. The guy had managed to overbook and crammed one too many people in for what was a very uncomfortable and bouncy journey. At Fort Lauderdale port we had a very long and very dull hour or two of queuing, going through immigration, getting our tickets, and loads of other unnecessary and inefficient faffing. Our boat departed at 8 - when we booked this trip at the hostel a few days ago, we forgot to ask any important questions, such as the following:

✮Where does it leave from?

✮Where are we going?

✮What kind of boat is it?

✮How long will it take?

✮What season is it in the Bahamas?

Had we known the answers to any of these questions, we might not have been so excited, or indeed booked the trip at all. The answers to the above queries are as follows:

✮Bloody miles away

✮Port Lucaya, a little tourist spot on Grand Bahama island

✮Like a sodding P&O ferry, huge and slow and grim and boring - had the cheek to call itself a cruise

✮5 hours each way, somewhat astonishing as it is only 52 miles off the Florida coast

✮Hurricane season. You would think someone might have mentioned that, maybe?

Our included breakfast buffet was, in a word, awful. We were herded like cattle through the depressing dining room, where we observed loads of fat Americans and Bahamians (as well as some thin ones, but mostly fat) wolfing down plates of things with names like 'grits'. We sat out by the (empty) pool on some sun loungers and tried to have a sleep, but it decided to rain every time we went outside, so this plan was shortlived. We went to the roof later, and the same thing happened, so we hung out in the casino and lost $20 each - annoyingly, this would have been the price of getting a cabin to sleep in for the journey. Our lunch buffet was pretty grim too, further compounding the depression and regret we were experiencing about this whole misadventure. Things only got worse, as it was bucketing down when we arrive din the Bahamas. Our hotel is overpriced and none too good, although I'm sure it would have nice views if it weren't for the rain and clouds. We went down to the beach and ended up having a drink in the Prop Club, attached to the Sheraton-Westin-Casino complex. We then explored Port Lucaya marketplace, and ended up sitting in Rum Runners bar watching the rain coming down for a while. I should mention here that we looked quite a pair, decked out as we were in striped linen shirts and khaki trousers, equipped with a fine Cuban cigar and shades for good measure. We had a few good drinks in Rum Runners, accompanied by Conch fritters (a local speciality). We moved around the marketplace to a few bars while it intermittently pissed down, as we consistently got pissed up. All in all it was really rather quiet, as a consequence of us just missing Bahamian Independence Day, the weather, and it being Sunday night.

Day 274 (Monday 14th) - Port Lucaya, Grand Bahama - Miami

I was up far earlier than I would have liked, and felt rubbish for a while until wonderful Pat went to the shops and got Coke, some kind of Bahamian punch, water, crisps and beef patties for us. We napped for a while and, seeing the weather improve, we went for a wander before noon. The second we closed the door, it started to rain again. We decided not to be perturbed, and went and checked out the casino, where (under my tutelage) Pat managed to win $25 on the slots and $50 on roulette (thanks also to the advice of a short fat woman on the boat). With our winnings we got some hand rolled cigars, intending to just cruise around the beach looking cool, but yet again it decided to pour as soon as we walked outside, so we ended up smoking them under the awning of a closed Chinese restaurant. Classy. It was 1 pm by the time the rain stopped, so we rushed off and paid $70 for half an hour on some jetskis. It was really fun, and we got some impressive air from some of the waves, but it started raining yet again. Not a problem at sea, one might think, but heading into the wind was incredibly painful as the raindrops slammed into your face. Going in the other direction was fine though, and after some racing we followed a glass-bottomed boat and jumped the wake for a bit. With somewhat jarred spines we had to head in - the chaps had decided to give us an hour as they didn't have much business, but this was a problem as we had to get a bus at 2. We ran back through the rain, got the bus, and went through immigration far quicker than on the way our. The rest of the winnings were used to get us a cabin for the journey, in which we dozed and read for a while. We had a gross dinner buffet, which we ate too much of and which I wish I had thrown it up, as we both felt awful afterwards. I object to absorbing this awful stuff, and we decided it could only give us second rate energy. We slept some more and arrived in late but refreshed, and we're now back in the hostel, off to New York tomorrow!

Day 271 - Everglades And Exploring

Fortunately, I did get better. We had to leave at 9 am from the other hostel, annoyingly. The journey was pretty short, before we knew it we were stopped off at the Gator Centre (or something similar) and were soon herded onto airboats for a trip around the marshes. There were alligators in the water, as I had hoped. we saw one a few minutes away from the dock, which terrified Pat a lot more than I expected, and amused me as a result. The airboat went at nerve-wracking speed over the grasses and water, pausing occasionally for us to take in the view, and bask in the incredible heat - the hottest I have been in a very long time. We then saw an alligator wrestling show (more like handling than wrestling, but still pretty cool) and after a brief look around the shop, where Pat bought a 'gator skin wallet, we headed back to Miami. Our plan for the afternoon was to grab a bite to eat and explore downtown, however on our way to Key Biscayne Pat saw the Mandarin Oriental Hotel, where we ended up going for lunch. I was keen for a Wendy's, but when Pat informed em that it was to be his treat, I grudgingly relented (this was to be a theme of the next week or so, I was soon to find out. A suggestion was made, I squirmed about expense and the like, Pat offered to pay, I squirmed about accepting such an offer, then we ended up doing whatever it was anyway). I had some awesome sushi, then Kobe beef something-or-other and a Mojito, all of which were exquisite. A foolish word, but the only one which seems appropriate here. We explored Key Biscayne (just flashy condos) and Miami Avenue (crappy tourist shops) and got the Metromover (free bus thing on an elevated track) to Bayside, where we wandered through malls and failed to buy a hat, before hopping on it again to go to 8th street, home of a bar called Tobacco Road. On the Metromover we encountered a guy called Chuckie, who gave us various tips about the city, laughed about differences between our accents, and claimed to work in a flash bar to which we should come later, despite his ragged attire (he didn't mention the last bit, that was the reason Pat and I doubted him afterwards). Tobacco Road was awesome. As we walked in there was an old blues guy calledbig Poppa E playing a few classics, followed by loads of other bands - apparently we had stumbled into Tobacco Road's annual Summerjam festival, quite by accident. The next band were called the Five Nines, and were all about 15 or 16 years old. They played an awesome selection of rock classics, and Pat and I spent quite a while theorising about the dynamics of the band, especially concerned with the keyboardist, Scott. A tall skinny guy, he was wearing all black apart from piano key braces, and sunglasses even after nightfall. What a hero. He and the lead guitarist, Harvey, we re in the following band as well, although they were nowhere near as good. We left around 10 to go to another area of the city, Coconut Grove, where supposedly all the students hang out. It was really empty for a while, but eventually we got talking to a few people outside Sandbar. One was a big guy who was at culinary school in New York, and another was a really pretty girl called, umm, I can't remember but Pat and I referred to her as Chica afterwards, somewhat patronisingly. They were really cool and chatty, giving us many tips for NY. They left to go to dinner at a friend's bequest, and I feel we should have gone too, but we didn't realise this until afterwards. On our way home we went via a place called Fat Tuesdays, which had an odd, slightly unpleasant atmosphere and sold particularly average frozen cocktails, which we entirely failed to finish before going back to South Beach.

Day 270 - Matt Feels Crap, And The Beginning Of Our Accommodation Troubles

Unfortunately we had to move today, as the hostel had no beds for us. We got a cab for a few blocks and we are now in the Clay Hotel, a chintzy little establishment on española way, which is a little street full of cool spanish style buildings, bars and restaurants. We had burritos from the place on the corner and headed straight to the beach, where we looked at girls and waited for our headaches to subside. The girls on the beach lived up to out expectations, especially the multicultural and bethonged (not a word eh Firefox? It is now.) trio in front of us, who spent most of the day cavorting in the surf and splashing each other while taking pictures. Awesome. Anyway, the hangover subsoded and was replaced by a general ill feeling, on my part at least. This got worse and worse, culminating in me nearly throwing up in the Outback Steakhouse (the awful food may have been what triggered that, to be fair). We had to drop by the hostel to inform the Irish girls that we would not be attending their surprise birthday party for their friend, and they were very lovely about it - we were given a Miami guidebook to study, and one of them (a teacher) asked me very quietly if I needed to use their toilet. Things weren't quite that bad, but it was nice to know that I could. I was in bed by 10, and slept fitfully while half watching Swingtown on the TV, for some reason. Oh, we're going to the Everglades tomorrow - I hope I have recovered by then.

Day 268-269 - Arrival in Miami

Day 268 (Tuesday 8th) - Miami

I had to be up at half five to get my cab to the airport, and as always happens when I have an early deadline to meet, I slept fitfully and dreamed wierdly. The flight was fairly dull, and just involved a mixture of dozing and looking out over the desert, while failing to capture any of it on film. I arrived in Miami without incident, and proceeded to the prebooked hostel, which I found to be a bit scuzzy. There were people asleep in my room the whole time I was there, day and night, which hardly makes for a welcoming atmosphere. It'll be fine though, as I don't think we're staying here for too long. Starving, I wandered to the beach and had lunch on Ocean Drive, where all meals were half price (in the Primetime restaurant at least). I had cheesy gnocchi, forgetting how crap American cheese is, which allayed my hunger but also made me feel rather queasy, so I walked to South Beach to sleep it off. I lay in the astonishingly hot sun for a while, was disappointed by the lack of girls at which to gaze, and so instead I wandered the streets relatively aimlessly, eventually getting my hair cut by a small Cuban man. He took loads off, as Hailie's haircut was a little "Cleopatra"ish. This wasn't Hailie's fault however, rather it was mine for not properly explaining what I wanted. It is now really short, shorted than it's been in years, and I'm not too sure about this either. Back at the hostel I did my laundry and a few other boring things, and hung around in the common area. A game of beer pong was organised by an American couple down there, and as it progressed I managed to accidentally get quite drunk, or at least enough to collapse into bed for a very very sound sleep. In spite of all this, I am getting very bored, and can't wait for Pat to get here.

Day 269 (Wednesday 9th) - Pat's Arrival

I spent the morning lying on the beach, as that seems to be all there is to do in Miami, then headed to the airport to surprise Pat. This  turned out to be a bad idea, as I had no idea about the specifics of Pat's flight. Somewhat inevitably, I completely missed him (not helped by the fact that the flight came in early as well), and I received a call from him asking where I was. "At the airport" I replied, "you?" "At the hostel. Bugger." Around 4 o'clock we finally rendezvoused at the hostel. Flash Pat had already organised a private room for the two of us, so we headed out to Ocean Drive for lunch. What was intended as a snack rapidly evolved into a minor binge, starting with shrimp and avocado salad, going via two enormous drinks (mango daiquiri and a caipirinha, over a pint of each in a cocktail glass a foot high) and ending with a fine Cuban cigar each from the girl selling them on the street. Consequently, Pat and I were both accidentally drunk (again) and had to go for a nap. We weren't aided by the fact that it's incredibly hot and humid here, so all the moisture is being constantly sucked from our bodies. We didn't rise from our stupor until around 10, so we decided to sample Miami's legendary nightlife. We grabbed a bottle of JD to have at the hostel, then headed out to Mansion, in the recommendation of some Irish girls Pat had met earlier that day. To be honest it was a bit odd, all we really did was steam about getting turned away from various VIP sections. Upon our return to the hostel we met the Irish girls again - Pat was chatty and friendly (read loud and slightly abusive, as we found out the following day - one of them couldn't believe he was the same guy) whereas I was knackered and went to bed. To be fair, it was roughly dawn, I think.

Day 267 - Farewell To Isla Vista

As I write this I am sitting in a scuzzy hostel in Miami, and am almost moved to tears by my loneliness. I really miss everyone in IV, and my stomach is hurting in a kind of bad butterflies way as a result. The morning was spent just sort of hanging around, snacking and chatting, as the final few people came to say goodbye to me - Angela & Emerald popped by, and Mike, Sam, Rod and B-Roth took me to the In 'n' out burger for my goodbye lunch, which was delicious, fatty and massive, as I have come to expect from IV food. They very kindly gave me a lift to Goleta station, offered to wait for the train with me (I declined, I had said enough long goodbyes in the last 24 hours) and I got on the train back to LA at 1345. The journey was uneventful, I spent most of the time typing up the last few days and gazing out of the window. Back in LA, I didn't really know where to go, so I headed to the Venice Beach Cotel, stored my luggage, went for a dip in the ocean and tried to contact Nate. I managed to get my phone fixed, which allowed me to call him and arrange for him to come and get me, so I could stay with him one last time. We went out for dinner to a really good Thai place called Toi, we discussed the goings on of the last 10 days, and then went to the otherroom bar for a drink. After one, I offered to get another and Nate proposed a far better idea - going back to his, and playing Rock Band on his XBox. It has a guitar/bass, a drum kit and a microphone, all of which can be used simultaneously. We took turns on guitar (which I sucked at) and drums (which I sucked even more at). After loads of embarrassing failures, I managed to complete a level on the drums on medium difficulty, and we decided to go out on a high. We watched some TV then Nate called it a night, as he had work in the morning. I watched the second half of Jackass 2, finished writing up the last few days and posted them, then settled down on the couch for an extremely sweaty night's sleep.

Day 264-266 - Independence Day, Isla Vista Style

Day 264 (Friday 4th) - Fourth Of July Fireworks

So, Independence Day - as with most days here, I think it started with a game or two of Beer Pong - my record is as yet unsullied, with a 100% record of getting the last cup every time, and also winning every game. We (myself, Ivan, Sam, Alyssa and Katie, I think) then proceeded to Albertson's to stock up on supplies, armed with $150. This procured us a big trolley of beer and some burgers etc. as well, although actually it got us more than that, as Ivan had a sudden brainwave. He walked straight past the checkouts and out of the door, with all the stuff - as it was very crowded in there noone noticed at all, and he simply loaded the stuff into the car and we drove off. Apparently, I learnt afterwards, Albertson's theft is a common occurrence - during a union strike a few years back, striking employees would go into work and help people load up trolleys with groceries, then carry them straight out of the front door without paying. So back to the story, due to this epic act of theft we had a further $150 to spend in Keg & Bottle, mainly on expensive spirits such as Belvedere vodka and Stoli Vanilla. We returned to the house triumphant, to an adoring crowd. Sam and I wasted no time in chucking 100 or so beers into the paddling pool, along with ourselves. Oh, we both shaved some good ol' southern highway moustaches for today, in honour of his country's independence from mine. Anyway, we were swiftly joined by a load more people, about 12 in all, and drinking games ensued as more people gradually arrived. Due to our excess of beer (if such a thing can exist) many rules involved pouring beer onto/into/at other participants more or less at random. The games swiftly descended into anarchy (there shall be a few pictures to follow before too long), but wonderful anarchy. The BBQ was fired up, beer bongs were done off the balcony of the girls' house, a variation of beer pong - 21 cup, which involves more people and is much faster - was introduced and dominated, and general mayhem continued for a while. We went down to the beach, which was amazing - loads of people partying all over, including us. Sam and I had a good frolic in the sea, a bit of a body surf and so on. After a while we headed back up to the house for a nap, to prepare for the night ahead. My map lasted far too long - Alana and Gilli came in a few times while I was asleep. I awoke after far too long, to find everyone had sort of wandered off. Not to worry though - I wandered the streets for a few minutes and bumped into Gilli (not too surprising, as I was walking to her house), then Ottie and finally Ivan, who was walking down the street, shirtless, with sunglasses on and his arms around two girls, all of whom were laughing hysterically. As the party restarted, a new game was introduced to the world - Silliness. This involves the following:

• Open a beer
  
• Drink as much as you can, and then 5 seconds more
  
• High five everyone you can see
  
• You have 5 seconds to acquire headwear
  
• Spin around 5 times, counting to 5 in any language you choose
  
• Put your fist in the air and shout loudly
  
• Repeat until no longer feasible
  

This was a genius invention of Ivan's, and got everything running again. However, this was not to last - two guys named Dylan and Derrick let of a firework, which failed to shoot off and exploded in the tube, showering us with sparks. Somewhat inexplicably, he then set up another one, which he had been boasting about - a three-inch wide one for which you need a pyrotechnics licence. They hopped over the fence, as everyone else backed off with a sort of "this doesn't really seem like a good idea" look on our faces. As it turned out, we were quickly proven right. There were a few attempts at lighting it, the last of which resulted in disaster. With a deafening boom and a blinding flash, the firework went off in Derrick's face. There were screams from everyone and quick thinking from some - namely B-Roth and Sam who leapt over the fence, catching him as he started to roll off the cliff. He was passed over to myself and a few others, who carried him out to the car - Gilli was quickly enlisted to drive them all to hospital. He was in pretty bad shape, his arm was charred and bloody, and he had blood seeping out of his mouth. A few girls were crying, many left, and in general the party atmosphere was ruined (we later found that he was going to be fine - he had second degree burns on his arm and hands, but his sight and hearing are fine, all of which means it's now fine to make fun of the situation).

One of the most annoying consequences of this disaster is that we lost Gilli and Sam, two of my favourite residents of Isla Vista - I'm not entirely sure at this point if they will be returning before I leave, which sucks. Anyway, so the party died and those who remained needed to have a good sit down to get over the shock of the last few minutes. However you can't keep a good party down in Isla Vista, and before too long Ivan had his firestick out and was doing some spinning, then we were taking shots back in the girls' kitchen - we ran out of mixers so we were chasing brandy with crackers. Classy. My main compatriot for the shots was Emerald, with whom I also had a very long talk about all sorts of nonsense. At some point, before 11pm according to the clock on my camera, I went next door to check out their party. It was odd, it looked crazy and pumping from the outside, but inside there was hardly anyone there - everyone was dancing on the balcony, with hardly anyone inside. I lost everyone a bit, and found myself repeating the same conversation a few times with lots of girls who found me interesting for 10 minutes, then left when my accent lost its novelty. Eventually I put myself to bed, as I had no idea where anyone I knew was, and had very little energy left for partying anyway. In spite of the disaster, I would say that my first Independence Day was a good one.

Day 265 (Saturday 5th) - The Day After

I awoke somewhat bleary, noticed that Ivan was nowhere to be seen, and was persuaded to play a quick game of beer pong, against my better judgement. A crew of 12 of us went to Cajun Kitchen for breakfast where I had my first Jambalaya, which was incredibly hot and spicy, but delicious nonetheless. I was pretty much deaf for the whole meal, due to a combination of loud music and general congestion, which must have made me an interesting conversationalist. I crafted a paper rose for Emerald, and a dollar shirt for the staff, which impressed everyone far more than it should have. Upon my return I realised that my mind was fried, and the best thing to do about it was relax. Ivan eventually returned, grinning about the events of his 4th of July - he claimed to have had a 20 hour drinking spree, stopping at 6am. He felt in need of the same treatment as me, so we lazed around for a while, and had a big discussion about Dylan. Apparently he is not too good at making first impressions - something I definitely noticed - in fact, I had been saying to Emerald last night that he was the only IV resident to whom I had not taken an immediate liking. Everyone agreed that when he arrived, he should be on trial so we could get new impressions of him. He came over shortly after, and gave everyone a rundown of the events that followed last night's explosion (already mentioned above). After much procrastinating about going to the beach, we went to Dogshit Park (I love the nicknames for stuff in IV) with Angela, B-Roth, Dylan, Mike & Liz. Sorry for all this listing of names by the way, it is helping me to picture the situations and remember more about them. Dinner plans were made, apparently for my benefit we were going to Cuca's for a special treat - Ivan even rang up to check they would have it. This treat turned out to be the Cuca's El Pastor, a giant Burrito with chips in it! Also a couple of types of meat and a few other wonderful things, but I was mainly impressed by the chips. I finished it, but not without a struggle, and lethargically went home. We intended to take it easy, but instead we ended up playing a couple of games of beer pong, during Which Ivan beat my winning streak. B-Roth and I were against Ivan and Liz, who were both outstanding. My record of 10/10 with 8 final cups unfortunately went down to 10/11. We did demand a rematch, during which I made the best shot ever - right handed, behind the back, bounce of the empty cups and into the final cup. My record is now 11/12 9, which is still good, but no longer unbeaten. Anyone reading this and thinking "What the hell? Why do you care so much about beer pong?" should immediately play it. I can't really explain how good it is without a table, 22 red cups, two ping pong balls and a crate of beer. Anyway, I'm glad it was Ivan who broke my streak rather than anyone else.

There was rumour of a dance party somewhere, so We went off on a fact finding mission, which ultimately failed. We found the house, but people inside were just sitting around with the TV on, all of which looked decidedly un-partyish so we dropped by Coop's place instead, which was fun. I said my final goodbye to Coop and Alyssa, which made me pretty sad, but on the upside Coop's boyfriend Ben gave me his shirt. I said I liked it, and that it was apt (it says living legend on it), and he just said "Do you want it?", took it off and gave it to me. Apparently an English friend of his had done broadly the same thing, so he was keen to keep it going. We came back and Ivan decided that, as this was to be his last night in IV for a while, we should set about all remaining booze left from yesterday. This culminated in his hanging upside down from the rafters, swigging straight from a bottle of Tequila. A game of indoor frisbee somehow erupted (I managed to both catch and throw with my feet) and a few more people turned up. Today seemed like it was incredibly long - when I went to sleep it was 0322, and I left Berkeley, Dylan and a few others talking about baseball, football and various other things I don't understand for ages. I also had wierd unsettling dreams, mainly about finding myself in San Francisco and being in a terrible rush about something, which really freaked me out when I got up - I had to check that I still had my stuff, and that I was still in IV.

Day 266 (Sunday 6th) - Adios Ivan Vujkovic-Cvijn (sic)

Today was an odd one. Ivan repeatedly failed to meet his own deadlines for leaving, we went to Bagel Cafe for a farewell breakfast, and talked to the chap in the tattoo shop for a while about potential additions to both of ours - no appointments until Wednesday, unfortunately. Ivan had a conversation with about 10 people just on the way to the cafe and back - he is an impressively social fellow. He had about 100 goodbyes to go and make, and we eventually said our goodbyes at half two or so, which was really sad. I have decided to stay one more night, then have a night in LA before heading off to Miami. After Ivan left I felt a bit lost for a while, so I went and arranged to have a haircut with Hailie, then hung out at the house and started preparing food for this evening - B-Roth, Angela and I are cooking tonight. I invited the girls over in exchange for the haircut - this is the standard deal, apparently, although when I was told this I got a little confused. I said I was getting a haircut from dinner, to which Berkeley replied "Oh, going to cook her dinner are you?" In a sort of 'you sly dog' tone. The haircut is pretty good - a little shorter than I would have liked, but this is always the case, and I'm sure I won't even notice once I get some salt and sand in it. Dinner turned out to be awesome - grilled squash, onions and zucchini, a vegetable korma, awesome salad with reduced balsamic vinegar dressing and grilled corn, and some awesome cous-cous. The healthiest thing by far that I've eaten since I got to the US. Sam arrived just after we finished eating, closely followed by Gilli, just in time for dessert - Cazookies, which are fresh baked cookies with cookie dough ice cream, and are delicious. Also Emerald from next door brought over a huge bag of Starbuck's pastries for us to feast on, thereby undoing the heathiness of the first course. We all hung out for the rest of the evening, having a pretty cool and sedate time. Gilli gave us another rundown on the "Boy Go Boom" story, as she put it, and we spent some time coming up with various other nicknames for Derrick - my favourites were Major Tom and Sly (as in Stallone, in Cliffhanger). As the evening passed, I found myself having to say final goodbyes to people, which was pretty sad. I am on the verge of tearing up right now on the train back from Goleta to LA, in fact. Ivan has a really great group of friends - really cool, easy-going dudes, and a load of awesome girls. He said, in fact, that they try not to hang out with dumb girls. He pointed some out at Bagel Cafe after chatting to them for a while - really hot and somewhat vapid girls who are fun to hang around with for a day or two, but tend not to stick around long-term (I'm paraphrasing a little). Alyssa, Coop, Hailie, Gilli, Liz, Emerald, Angela and Alana are all anything but what I just described. All of them are very smart, cool, funny and gorgeous, so maybe it's best I leave IV now before I fall irretrievably in love with one of them - a very real possibility, I fear.

Day 259-263 - Five Wonderful Days In IV

Day 259 (Sunday 29th) - Hanging Out

After the previous post, we somehow minced for ages and went to Silvergreens for dinner, and had an enormous crispy Thai chicken salad, by the end of which it was somehow half 10. We headed round to Ivan's friend Gilli's place for a few hours, and hung out with Chris Otte, Hayley, Gilli, Sam & Ivan for a while, listening to James Brown and generally mumbling at each other due to exhaustion.

Day 260 (Monday 30th) - A Day At Sand's

We went to Bagel Cafe, apparently an Isla Vista instution, and I had a Super Deluxe - a cheese and herb bagel with cream cheese, tomato, onion, and swiss cheese melted over the top of it all. It was enormous feed, yet again. We spent most of the day just sort of hanging around, bumped into Otte on the street, and then we three and Sam went down to the beach, lay around in the baking sun (with plenty of suncream this time), watched the surfers trying to catch the barely existent waves, then went dune jumping. Gilli and Alyssa joined us for a while each. We wandered round town some more, popped by Rod's place, then Gilli's again, then went to Naan Stop Indian for an awesome, and massive, dinner. On the way home we bumped into a fellow named Dan Justice (yes that's his real name, he lives in Hollywood and got a Limo to and from EDC, what a hero), then decided to go and get a keg of beer for the evening's festivities. It was quite impressive, just by mentioning to a couple of people that there was a keg, we somehow amassed a reasonable sized party. I was introduced to the amazing game of Beer Pong, in which one throws ping pong balls into cups of beer, 10 of which are arranged in a triangle at either end of the table, in those red cups that all American college students use, for some reason. There are a few rules, but basically the aim is to get rid of all their cups - when you get a ball in one, they have to drink it. Ivan and I won two games masterfully, and I got the last ball in the final remaining cup in each, which made me feel pretty cool. During the course of the evening quite a few people came and went, including some really incredible girls. Dan Justice and I walked into the house to have a dance and chat to them, whereupon they all immediately walked outside - a coincidence, Ivan claimed. Coincidence or not, the tables were turned later on when I put some Vitalic on, and a wierd situation occurred. Dan, Ivan, myself and possibly Sam walked inside and shut the sliding doors, effectively excluding the girls from the party, and shutting them outside. They sort of wandered off, while we had an awesome time indoors. Sam, Ivan and I spent far too long chatting nonsense, some of which was concerned with me introducing Ben Bruce to the guys. All in all, a very fun evening.

Day 261 (Tuesday 1st) - Red Rock & Beer Pong Again

I was awoken by Ivan telling me we were going to "bounce in 10", implying our imminent departure. He also informed me of an Isla Vista tradition - that of the morning kegstand. Ivan managed 20 seconds, myself a meagre 11. Alyssa and Coop (two of the girls who went to EDC) came and picked Ivan, Sam, Ottie and me up and we went to Albertson's supermarket to collect provisions. These provisions were a load of Sam Adams summer ale, and a chicken express meal each - tons of chicken, tons of salad, delicious. We then proceeded to get rather lost, as we had taken the freeway in the wrong direction, and had to keep going until it linked up with the road we should have been on. It was an entertaining drive though, and it involved a detour though Solvang, a sweet and somewhat inexplicable Danish town. We eventually arrived at Red Rock, via four or five fords across the river, which we went thought at maximum speed, achieving maximum wetness - we were screaming like we were on a log flume, it was awesome. Red Rock itself is, well, a big red rock surrounded by a really still & clear pool. We all jumped off the little rock in the middle of the pool, which was still at least 5 metres up, then sat in the sun enjoying the incredible scenery of arid southern California. We had to leave to get Coop back in time for work, and the journey took about an hour less than the way out. While we were walking back from El's house we spotted a dumpster gem - a house a few doors down was throwing out a really sturdy beer pong table, with a nice paint job too. The chap who was getting rid of it encouraged us to take it, as he was just waiting for a truck to come and pick it up. It weighed a ton, but was worth the effort of getting it back. We spent ages scraping the tacky veneer off the bevelled edges - this table was quite an achievement - then  noticed that we were all far more tired than should have been the case, so we spent a while just hanging out at the house, then went for dinner at the Delimart, while picking up our cans of Extenze for our Extenze party. There were two skunks wandering around in the park in a somewhat threatening manner while we were eating, which made the meal more dangerous than usual. We headed back and hung out until a party just sort of erupted, as more and more people turned up.

We were told by bald Mike (one of Ivan's housemates, who shaved his head totally bald after a clipper mishap) that we couldn't party in the house, as he was feeling ill and wanted to get some rest. This was agreed on, so instead we played a few games of pong outside, trying out the new table (which is awesome, by the way). I gained a new partner, a slightly creepy looking fellow named Mike, again. Confusingly, there were four Mikes around, but luckily they were all sufficiently different that it wasn't an issue (bald, long haired, tall and the one who was attached to the Hookah all night). I continued my winning streak - I have now played 6 games of beer pong, two with Ivan as my partner, three with tall Mike and one with Rod, and I have won every one. Also, I have got the final cup on every one, which is, in my humble opinion, incredible. I have been told I am a natural, which is quite an accolade from these veterans. Anyway, after all these shenanigans we moved inside, and I realised that there were 10 people in the living room, all laughing and shouting - while there was no music, in accordance with bald Mike's wishes, I'm pretty sure the noise level was barely reduced.We moved on to our original destination soon after the last game, which was Alba's leaving party, complete with hot tub. When we arrived, Alba ran over, chatted excitedly about getting a ticket for excessive noise, and about how she wasn't going to pay and was leaving the country tomorrow anyway, and possibly wouldn't be allowed back. She then immediately requested a kegstand, which she did for 20 seconds. What an incredible girl. Unfortunately the hot tub was closed by this point, but there was a cooler full of Sangria which made up for it. The other guys left a little before me, as I was chatting to some strangers in the house. I managed to find my way back solo, and en route I encountered a solid looking table in a bush, and after a somewhat epic struggle I succeeded in fishing it out and bringing it home. This morning this was the cause of some consternation, as Ivan and Sam couldn't figure out where it had come from - they had also spotted it, and tried to get it out, resulting in the crushing of Ivan's finger and a considerable amount of pain. Sam just walked in and told me he heard me coming in, and banging around a lot - I had thought I was being particularly stealthy, but clearly this was not the case.

Day 262 (Wednesday 2nd) - A Perfect Day

Today we went to an incredible place - Montecito, a rich suburb of Santa Barbara. Elena is housesitting for a rich family out there, so after a breakfast burrito (a genius concept) we got picked up in the family's $90,000 Mercedes-Benz, along with Hayley, Gilli, Ivan, Ottie. It was an amazing house, with a warm saltwater pool and a spa with a waterfall. They had a dog called Radar, who was a lurcher-cross-splodgey dog. We spent ages in the pool, had some chicken fights, recreated the Pink Floyd poster with the four girls (Morgan, another friend of theirs, turned up), picked and ate fresh oranges and tangerines from their orchard, along with fresh licorice. The enormous forest fire that has been rolling across the mountains has spread further (2,400 acres as I write this), blanketing the sky with smoke, covering things in ash, causing Big Sur to be evacuated, and causing blackouts. We were quite pleased that we actually didn't notice the power cut for ages. We left in the ridiculous car (DVD screens in the headrests!) and headed to Gilli's for the evening - it was dark by the time we got there, and really eerie. There were bonfires in front yards, candles everywhere, and guitar floating around. We sat around in the living room and listened to Ivan, Ottie and Dashyl (real name, from upstairs) playing some awesome songs. Gilli cooked me some Broccoli and garlic, which was delicious. At one point we heard a cheer, went out to investigate and saw that the power was back on. Moments later, to a far larger cheer, it went out again, and everyone returned to their caveman debauchery. At one point a car came by when we were all outside watching the stars, and we jumped and screamed in a simian fashion until they were out of sight. When the power came on on a more permanent basis, we tried to find some ultra American TV for my benefit. We ended up with the Dana Carvey show, then the Daily Show, and finally the Colbert Report, all of which were awesome. I should mention something else, by the way. This evening I received my Ben Bruce T-shirt (from here), which I shall wear proudly on the 4th of July. Also Sam & Tommy, two of Ivan's housemates, have been producing some awesome shirts, one of which I am sporting as we speak, all themed on Isla Vista. You can get those, and should do so now, here.

Day 263 (Thursday 3rd) - California Is On Fire

Today began with another breakfast burrito, this time from La Cantina. Ivan had to run some errands, so I stayed in and wrote up the last few days. Later on we remembered that we had actually had a plan for the day - to attend a lecture on Genetics and Religion on campus, which was at 1530. Ivan remembered this, we ran out and jumped in the car, asked him what time it was, to which he replied "about 4:15". B-Roth and I burst out laughing, contemplated the futility of our mission, and decided to go on a campus tour, and have our own discussion on the lecture topic. We bumped into Alana on the way, and persuaded her to come with us. Their campus is pretty awesome, it reminded me of University of Sussex for some reason. It's huge, but all pretty low lying, and comes right up to the ocean - the idea of a beachside Uni is pretty innovative, I'm very impressed. We sat up on the Brenn Hall balcony and watched the clouds of doom rolling in for a while - the ash from the fires up in the hills was moving in at a worrying rate, a huge black shadow moving across the sky, darkening it and causing a rain of ash to start. We also had that talk about religion and genetics, for which I got to trot out some of the Dawkins book I just finished. When we got back we were informed of more power outs from 7-10, so we swiftly ran to get beer and wood for the bonfire. sat round the fire, met loads of new people round the fire, then had a singing session, played a few games, and consequently did not make it to downtown Santa Barbara, which was our original plan. Later on a few of us rolled up the road to Gilli's place. I must say I'm not exactly sure of the order of events, but a pretty awesome time was had - at one point we were running shirtless through the sprinklers in the park, at another we were singing the chorus to Hey Jude repeatedly and raucously, and I'm sure a lot of other shenanigans took place as well. I was the last one there, and found myself walking down the street without either my shoes or my shirt, soaking wet, literally singing with joy. A foolish image, but I was extremely happy, so I make no apologies. Incidentally, I had entirely forgotten all of Thursday when I started writing this, but thanks to the collaborative efforts of B-Roth, Mike, Ivan, Emerald and Max, we got it done. Good work team.