Jonola14

USA EAST COAST 2001

August 30th, 2001 Posted in Classics, Holidays, Uncategorized

History
It all began one drunken evening in the Tafarn pub at Cardiff University’s Student Union, during one of those familiar, and far too regular, unplanned drinking sessions.

Timothy D. Payne could often be located at this particular jaunt on a Friday night, propping up the bar and slurring love-based compliments at almost all the young ladies that passed. A tall, Devonshire fellow, Payno was a cider lover and appreciated fine tastes in liquor, sport and women. He was always partial to a skinful of cider, a couple of Captain Morgan’s, and a cheesy boogie to crap manufactured teenage bands in the adjoining nightclub.

It was early February and cold. Payno had been sat in the pub for hours due to an unforeseen dispute with an ex-girlfriend, and the cider had been sinking nicely. He contented himself with the thought that in an hour or two, he would be drunk, happy, and dancing ridiculously with his customary ear to ear grin glued to his face. He was relaxed now, excited about his future prospects and intent on forgetting his previous roller-coaster relationship.

It was a big decision, Hugo Boss, Armani or Cool Water? Jonathan A. Cook hated this sort of mental challenge and concluded that he would wear neither this evening as he was merely popping out to the pub for a swift pint to discuss football tactics with his team manager.

Cook was a pleasant chap, renound for his ability to poke fun at himself. Standing 5 feet 10 inches, Cook was of average height, which was lucky because he was of average build too. A clever man, Cook had many qualifications and his attendance at Cardiff University was to add a gleaming BSc degree in Business Administration with French to his ever-expanding collection.

Life was good, student living was proving to be most enjoyable, particularly since his two-year relationship with ‘the nemesis’ had ended four months earlier and girls were flocking in his direction. Some would get lucky, others would be turned away. In fact, the situation became so hectic that Cook had to introduce a take-a-ticket-and-wait-in-the-queue system (I wish!) in his residence, just to establish a sense of order in the building. He was devilishly handsome (please allow for this creative writing), of Caucasean descent, yet there was a certain Hispanic air about him (not true). His most distinguishing feature was the spikey style of his hair, combed flatly forward to the front where it was drowned in gel and directed vertically, earning him his nickname, ‘Quiff’.

He strolled into the pub, expecting the usual onslaught of women and a round of applause. Amazed and confused why this failed to occur, Quiff made his way to the bar and ordered a lager, uneasy at such a shock. He turned, looking to see if the manager had arrived yet, but to no avail. The pub was busy as usual and people were constantly jostling about, trying to establish a comfortable drinking position without the risk of having their drink spilt repeatedly. It was a common occurence. Fellow students would drink copious amounts in this pub before moving on to the recently renamed Solus nightclub. Consequently, this point in the evening was sheer mayhem.

Suddenly Quiff heard a loud, sharp shriek. He looked over, clearly he had been recognized and he awaited his overdue barrage of females. Not so. Across the other side of the bar he could see a tall man hunched over the bar corner, saliva dripping from the man’s mouth. There was a distinctly sly, yet pleased grin on the man’s face, and Quiff noted the six empty pint glasses in front of this drunkard. It was obvious to him that this man had attempted some sort of move on a passing female, who had reacted in a natural manner and rejected his advances. Quiff glanced at the man again, focusing further on his habits. “Ah, Payno!” Quiff exclaimed, and battled his way through the rabble to rescue his inebriated companion.

Several pints later, and many Payno attempts to pull, the subject of summer holidays cropped up. Payno mentioned that he had begun planning a trip to the USA, along with another friend of his, Gaz Jones. Payno, in a state of pure drunkenness, made a fatal error. He invited Quiff because “it would be a crack”.

Since that date, when both Payno and Quiff intoxicated themselves, slurred incomprehensibly, and danced wildly like mad buffoons, plans and extensive preparations were made. Payno and Quiff would fly out to New York on 30/07/01 to travel around until meeting up with Fuller, Ellis, and Gaz on 15/08/01. The mission was clear. The lager in South Wales was becoming repetitive, we needed something else to drink, something else to abuse our livers with, something else to make the uglies look beautiful. Another source had to be located. The selection was made. The United States…

Pre-Embark
LOCATION: Cranleigh, Surrey, UK.
DATE: 29/07/01.
TIME: 12.00
Quiff feels awful, his head is pounding and his glands are up, and it’s hot, so hot. At least he feels better than he did on Friday though, that twenty-four hour bug was a real downer. Not trip-threatening but a pain in the arse nonetheless. He has so much to do today, yet all he wants to do is lie down and sleep. And he can’t get everything in his bag either, he’s got the bare minimum and it’s still too much. Two pairs of shoes or three, sleeping bag or not, thick or thin jumper? So many decisions to make, not a lot of time in which to make them, and no space.

TIME: 18.15
Quiff’s just arrived at Guildford station and is looking for Payno. He hopes Payno’s going to choose the exit he’s waiting at. It’ll be a bad start if he doesn’t. Wait, there he is. Quiff can see he’s got a large rucksack, a lot bigger than his. It’s green too. We say our hellos and walk over to the car, Quiff opens the passenger door and slants the seat forward, taking Payno’s rucksack from him, but stops momentarily, shocked. “You fool, you IDIOT!” Quiff says. “Why? What’s up?” Payno replies. “You’ve bought a Gelert rucksack (pronounced Jelert), you’ve invested in the Langdon empire!” “Shit!” Payno responds, obviously troubled, “I’ve given more money to that bastard!”

It’s a bad start. Neither of us is confident that Payno’s rucksack will last the trip. Quiff explains to Payno that it is almost always worth paying the extra money and buying quality, not just any old cheap shite. Payno is clearly upset, verging on purchasing another rucksack, one that he could be confident in and rely on.

TIME: 19.00
Just as Quiff pulls up to his house, he explains to Payno that his mother will love him forever if he compliments her on the high quality of the garden. Quiff tells him to try and bring the subject up naturally in conversation, so it appears genuine and not at all like he’s been prompted to do so. Quiff opens the back door, his mother kisses Payno hello and says “Have you had a good trip? You must be hot carrying that bag around all day. It must have been a hell of a journey for you, Jonathan take his bag for him, come on” she exclaims, all in about a five second speech. “Yes it was a hell of a journey, but it was all worth it when I saw the splendour of your garden” Payno replies, with a sly, manipulative grin.

TIME: 19.30
The food is flowing and the cold Stella’s are slipping down remarkably well. Another couple of sausages are slapped on the simmering barbecue, and the conversation turns to focus on the cat, which has decided to join us in sitting around the garden table. Quiff’s mum begins the story of the cat’s accident, in which he was hit by a car when she was out, and when she returned she found him half-dead in the kitchen, skull fractured, jaw broken in three places, and barely able to walk. At this point, the cat realizes he is being talked about, and strives for more attention by strolling up to Payno. Being unfamiliar with the cat’s attention-seeking techniques, Payno leans down to stroke him, looking him right in the eye, and says “My dear cat, it appears you have used up one of your seven lives!”

It was only when Quiff pointed out that cats are supposed to have nine lives, that Payno realized why he was nearly crying with laughter.

Day 1 - Embark
LOCATION: London Heathrow (UK) & New York City (USA).
DATE: 30/07/01.

We are travellers, set on a mission to discover. We find it appropriate to act like the great explorers before us: Drake, Raleigh, Livingstone and Columbus. We shall no doubt encounter problems, but we shall have to pull through. We will follow in their footsteps, and battle on through the difficult times, as great heroes like Lawrence of Arabia, Wellington and Churchill did before us. We are on a mission for our country, the beer industry needs expanding and we shall seek out new American products and bring them back to Britain. Selected by her majesty and commanded by the national government, we must not fail.

TIME: 13.00
Payno and Quiff are sitting in the departure lounge amongst our fellow Air India passengers. Not as many turbans as we expected. We are scared, wary of the risky flight ahead. We have heard conflicting reports about Air India’s quality, and don’t know what to think. Payno notices that the windows of the plane, on the outside, each have silhouettes of Taj Mahal style buildings. The sense of anticipation is deepening.

We are on board the plane, and after some seating readjustments, have sat down and started to take stock of the situation. It is an old plane, it’s clear. There are indications of wear and tear all over the plane. There’s a funny smell too, of stale curry - the kind of odour you would encounter in a Cardiff curry house that’s just re-opened under a new name after closure by health & safety. The decoration is very odd. The whole plane is covered in what looks like wallpaper. It’s a creamy colour with brown and red flower patterns on. Very strange. Quiff mentions that it reminds him of a 1960’s high rise building’s standard apartment decoration, like you would see when visiting your elderly relations.

TIME: 13.15
Take-off time. Quiff is a little scared. Payno is reassuring as ever, in reminding Quiff that 90% of air crashes occur at take-off and landing. Great. The plane’s a bit rattley, but it seems to be working fine. Take-off works and we haven’t exploded. Yet.

TIME: 14.30
Meal time. Chicken curry. Surprisingly. Disgusting fishy poppadum too, and some unidentifiable dessert that neither of us dare touch. We are still in the air too.

TIME: 15.00
The in-flight entertainment. It appears that the yellow and brown wire things in the seat pouch are headphones, but they have massive cotton-bud style ear-pieces that need to be wrestled with to get them in your ears. At least our ears will be cleaned though. The only way to describe the music would have to be house. Curry house. Bollywood films on the big screen too. Awful.

TIME: 16.00 (NEW YORK TIME)
We have arrived. Payno has become aggrieved at the local telephones. Quiff had to calm him down and take over. We select our accommodation and make our way. The voyage into the unknown has begun. Our mission has been activated and we must commence our research. New York.

TIME: 17.00
We are instantly struck by the energy and activity going on in New York City, especially in Manhattan. We don’t know how our friend Honor (who has just started a job on Wall Street) can cope. Taxi drivers fighting to get our business, people everywhere….. Additionally, having previously assumed that it would be spread out, we are shocked to find that world famous sights such as the Empire State Building and Madison Square Gardens are only metres apart. After waiting 20 minutes while some Spaniard ‘fought’ with the hostel receptionist, we find cheap accommodation. The jet-lag hits us in a big way and sleep becomes an inevitability. New York City has overwhelmed us, but we are looking forward to finally conquering it when we return in 3 weeks.

Day 2 - Dancing Buffoons
LOCATION: Buffalo (New York, USA).
DATE: 31/07/01.

TIME: 06.30
Our new, very cheap alarm clock wakes us up in enough time to collect our key deposit by 7am. Quiff is becoming exceedingly annoyed with his hand-luggage bag, and having to repeatedly unlock it, dubbing it “the evil lock!” Given the success of our ‘Let’s go USA’ book, it has now been termed “the Bible!” We shall obey its orders at all cost.

TIME: 08.00
We struggle across New York to catch the Greyhound to Buffalo. Luck is with us, we claim the last two seats on the coach. The eight hour journey takes us through numerous remote places such as Syracuse, and we are also forced to undergo the experience of being driven by Hitler, an ageing veteran of the Vietnam conflict who appears to have confused a coach load of passengers with a newly formed battalion of 1970 US Marines. We decide that in order to pass away the hours spent on Greyhound, we will have a competition trying to identify the most isolated house in the USA.

TIME: 16.00
Buffalo is very quiet upon arrival. Payno thinks that it reminds him of Disneyland, an idea that is strengthened by the tram that runs through the central high street rather like Mickey Mouse’ railway. We make some new friends from Kuwait and South Africa, Quiff becomes obsessed with the idea that they are gay lovers. We have the pleasure to eat in the restaurant that is reputed to have ‘invented’ Buffalo chicken wings.

Buffalo somewhat livens up at night, and the vintage car fair that we stumble across is replaced by lively locals enjoying Bud/Coors/Labatts ‘Lite’ in the evening. Never the types to require persuading, we embark on the first piss-up of our voyage, further encouraged by a friendly barman who keeps giving us cut-priced rounds. However, any hopes of an early break-through on the female front are to be fruitless. The barman’s claim that the bar would be packed is totally incorrect, and our venture to other bars in search of local talent only results in the two of us forgetting that we are not in the UNION and subsequent humiliation as we attempt to introduce the concept of ‘take-the-piss’ dancing to the USA.

Payno is not happy about Captain Morgan ‘Spice’.

Day 3 - The Arduous Trek
LOCATION: Niagara Falls (Canada).
DATE: 01/08/01.

TIME: 13.00
After a brief visit to Buffalo County Library to do some e-mailing, we moved on. Quiff comes across his hostel room key which should have been handed in when we checked out earlier…

We catch the bus with the Kuwaiti gender benders in the direction of Niagara Falls, intent on swiftly finding accommodation and then venturing out to continue with our mission, our country is relying on us.

Crossing the Niagara River involves walking across a footbridge to Canada. Quiff is concerned about his safety, as his vertigo sets in. Yet he is brave enough to stand on the edge of the bridge and have his photo taken by one of the batty boys. The Falls could be seen in all their splendour behind him. Excellent photo.

After interrogation at Customs, we ditch the shirt-lifters and consult the Bible about our accommodation. The Bible dictates that we stay in a former brothel just outside the centre. What we don’t know, however, is how to get there.

It’s bloody hot here. You can feel the mist in the air, the spray from the Falls, but the digital thermometer says it’s 94 degrees. Our backpacks are heavy as we are yet to accustom ourselves to their weight and feel. Sweat is pouring off us, last night’s alcohol is seeping through our pores, giving off a horrendous odour. We find out where our destination is and start walking.

At the bottom of a large, steep hill, we stop and ask for further directions. The graft of the walk clearly visible through the sweat on our brows. It’s a used car centre or taxi rank or something along those lines. Payno stumbles up to a local and asks for direction from a burly grey-haired man standing alone in the heat, refusing to succumb to the humidity and move into the shade. “Where’s Bridge Street please buddy?” Payno demands. “Bridge Street is a bit of a trek” he replies in a remarkably clean and familiar accent, a fellow Brit we assume, “but no problem for a couple of young English guys like yourselves.” The inspiration was there, a compatriot believed in us, confident that we would not catch a taxi or ‘peoplemover’ to transport us to our destination. “Bridge Street is about a mile up the hill” the chap says. “SHIT!” is Payno’s reply, oblivious to any embarrassment he may cause us and ignorant of any potential consequence or offence.

Nevertheless, we continue. Our British friend believes in us, we walk up the hill, pausing on occasion to stand in the spray of a sprinkler. For King and country, we are ambassadors of the British Empire and we will stop at nothing. We draw motivation from our exploratory predecessors: Livingstone, Columbus, Drake, and Raleigh. They would not have given up at such a stage. So close yet so far, only one small step to go. Then we can rest.

We finally make it. We’re tired, we’re hungry and we stink. Fortunately the hostel has spaces, so we shower and prepare ourselves for the evening. Quiff also overhears a conversation about the hostel being haunted. He comforts himself in the thought that, given the hostel is a former brothel, the ghost may be a young, succulent female wearing nothing but a come-and-get-me smile. Splendid.

TIME: 17.00
Struck by the awesome power of the Falls during our Maid of the Mist voyage. Payno remarks that it reminds him of a mythological story where humans risk their lives in battling against natural forces and the gods. Quiff, meanwhile, questions the boat driver’s nautical techniques.

TIME: 19.00
We have a meal of French onion soup and ribs and make our way to the nightclub (yes, at 7pm) in preparation of a busy night.

TIME: 19.30
We are still the only people at the bar. The barman confidently, and reassuringly, tells us that the club will be packed with good looking women later. We persevere.

TIME: 20.00
We have an excellent viewing point overlooking the bustle of Niagara. Relatively few female specimens to examine, but the barman’s reassurance spurs us on. Labatt Blue sinking very nicely.

TIME: 23.30
Lying bastard! There are about fifteen people in the whole place, six of which are female and none of which are particularly attractive. No tip for you Mr Barman son.

TIME: 24.00
Quiff falls asleep walking home. Payno wakes the whole dormitory up by turning the light on.

Day 4 - Bogey Man and The Snorter
LOCATION: Columbus (Ohio).
DATE: 02/08/01.

TIME: 06.30
The alarm clock has now been termed ‘the evil clock’ due to its total lack of ability to tell us the right time. Setting the alarm is a risk, we never know when it will awaken and wake the whole dormitory. We are awake and the evil clock tells us it’s 07.30. We check out and make our way to the bus station, where the bus man tells us it’s an hour earlier than we thought. EVIL!

TIME: 08.15
The evil clock has to be commended. Without its incompetent time-keeping skills, we would have missed our bus. Quiff is deliberating whether or not evil is a fair description.

TIME: 09.00
Customs. Everyone gets off the coach, bags and everything, ready for interrogation and inspection. Quiff has his hand luggage bag searched after a struggle with the evil lock. Payno loughs aloud when the customs officer questions the need for 22 year old travelling man Quiff to possess a teddy bear. Everybody laughs.

TIME: 10.00
Back in Buffalo to catch Greyhound. Quiff sits next to a rather attractive female but has no energy to capitalize. Communication with the North Americans is proving troublesome. Buffalo and Niagara Falls have borne no fruit. We must continue. To Columbus.

TIME: 10.30
A fat man with a long beard is sitting on a bench waiting for the Greyhound. There is a long queue and crowd of people opposite him. It is at this point where he rams his little finger up his nose, rummages around and pulls out a bogie of extreme proportion. He examines it closely before rolling it gently on his fingers and disposing it on his trouser leg. He then rubs it off and wonders why he can’t get the bogie mark off his trousers. Quiff and Payno think this is most amusing.

TIME: 11.30
Payno is sat opposite a very odd looking family. Religious Waltons is the conclusion. Bus driver gets us lost.

TIME: 16.00
Arrival in Cleveland for Greyhound change. We are contacted by a young female regarding our final destination. A lovely girl, blonde-ish type. She has many hours to wait, so we go for a meal to while away an hour. Another cheeseburger. E-mail addresses exchanged. Things are looking up. The search continues.

TIME: 18.30
Quiff is sat next to a man that is asleep, but every so often he will snort and wake up. The man is sitting up straight, head back and mouth open. Quiff thinks it would be most amusing to drop something in. He is sleeping, and snorts once more. Not just loudly, but EXTREMELY loudly. Quiff cries with laughter once more. It reminds him of somebody having a cold and trying to cough up that troublesome greenie from deep down in the lungs. Quiff glances at Payno. There is no verbal communication, but both travellers know exactly what the other is thinking. It is a growing characteristic of the two men, a kind of telepathy..

TIME: 20.00
Arrival in Columbus. Installation into hostel. Note two lookers also staying.

TIME: 21.00
Local bar after encounter with money-requester who claims it’s his birthday and he’s run out of gas. Liar. Quiff produces three forms of I.D. at the bar and is permitted to consume alcohol. Payno has to trot back to the hostel for his passport, as he is clearly underage.

TIME: 22.00
Still at bar, lots of blokes here but a few nice looking birds too. Our research is going well, the lager is sinking with increasing ease, much to our delight.

Day 5 - Bernie’s
LOCATION: Columbus (Ohio).
DATE: 03/08/01.

TIME: 09.30
Breakfast in cafe. We stay all morning.

TIME: 13.00
We spend the afternoon visiting an ART display and e-mailing in the Ohio State University.

TIME: 19.00
The Brazilian receptionist in the hostel kindly allows us to get some beers in and we start our evening over a pizza. The same receptionist points us in the direction of the ‘Cornerstone’ bar. This proves to be successful and we continue to drink at the ridiculously cheap rate of $3.75 per 4 pints. By around 22.00 we are sufficiently intoxicated to confront properly, for the first time, American females… or so we thought. On the specific advice of a female student we had consulted in the afternoon, we stumble hopefully towards ‘Bernie’s’. Not put off by the $8 demanded on the door, we enter ‘the bear pit’ down a steep flight of stairs. There, instead of viewing a scene of pretty, young ladies, we slowly realize that we have paid for a front row ticket to a show of anarchy. The club is, in fact, a PUNK ROCK venue and the ensuing 10 minute ordeal will surely remain with us for the foreseeable future. The dancing involves 50 blokes beating each other up and is not the ideal place in which to introduce ‘piss-take’ dancing to this continent. We thus escape the seedy atmosphere and set off to the ’safe bar’ we had drunk in the night before.

We are now hammered and successfully befriend a group of US students. Much banter follows, the highlight being Payno betting against one of his new Yank friends that this American will not be able to pull (snog), within the next five minutes, the sexy ‘fly honey’ that has just wiggled her pert backside into the bar. Payno wins, but only by 30 seconds! No luck for the English tonight as an early wake-up dictates that we abandon our friends at about 12.30pm.

Day 6 - Lady Phlegm
LOCATION: Louisville (Kentucky).
DATE: 04/08/01.

TIME: 21.00
The less said about today. the better. Trip to St. Louis (Missouri) is abolished by a very stressful morning and lunchtime in Columbus Greyhound station. In desperation to escape Ohio, we finally get on a knackered bus to Louisville, Kentucky. A city of around 1 million people fails to produce a youth hostel, so in a fit of panic, against the background of a major international car rally and subsequent inflated prices, we decide to stay in a Motel for $77….. at least we can relax ahead of the trip to Memphis.

A memorable point to make is regarding a disgusting woman from Maine, who places her backside next to Payno on the bus. While she finds that coughing up phlegm loudly into her handherchief, muttering “good, I’ve got that one”, is not enough to satisfy her needs, she appears to enjoy singing old favourites like ‘Home on the Range’ for her fellow travellers. On top of this, she attempts to convince Payno that the end of the world is imminent….

TIME: 22.00
Lying in bed, pensive about today’s events. Quiff had the most disgusting cheeseburger of his entire alimentary career at lunch. It was so bad, in fact, that he tried to fob it off to a passing beggar, rather than give the man money. Too many beggars around, why don’t they just sod off and leave us alone?

Totally burgered-out now, too many quarter pounders in such a short time. Quiff remarks that his heart feels like it is being crushed by cholestorol. Payno announced that he will definitely have a healthy meal tonight. We ate barbecue chicken wings. Quiff craves an apple. We haven’t seen a vegetable for a week. Quiff believes he is developing scurvy, relentless spots appearing all over his body. Need a lime. Quiff was also shouted at today, for interfering with luggage on Greyhound. Met someone called ‘Chuckie’. Splendid name. Alcohol-free evening, thank God.

We hear on tv that Tropical Storm Barry is strengthening and heading towards New Orleans and Panama City in the next couple of days. Pictures show people preparing sand bags and natural defences in anticipation of hurricane winds and flooding. Bang goes our beach holiday.

Day 7 - Divine Intervention
LOCATION: Memphis (Tennessee).
DATE: 05/08/01.

TIME: 09.30
No wake-up call despite the $5 tip given to staff member to ensure our getting up. It’s fine though, we’re up and ready anyway. First in line at Greyhound station. We have developed an excellent Greyhound technique, learned from the well-travelled North American locals. The trick is to locate your departure gate, get there early, place your bags as close to the door as possible, and sit on them.

TIME: 10.15
We leave Louisville and head for Nashville, Tennessee. We ask the Lord if he can see his way to persuading Greyhound to put on a new bus so the rush for seats is non-existent. He answers our plea and we sit comfortably. Quiff, in an effort to improve himself behaviourally, has started reading a book entitled ‘7 habits of highly effective people’. However, every time he attempts to read it, he falls asleep. Conclusion: book should be renamed ‘one way to cure insomnia’. After yesterday’s rather amusing incident of Payno’s leg being sneezed on by a passing Afro-Carribbean toddler, we are comforted by our air-conditioned seats at the front of the bus.

TIME: 13.00
Arrival in Nashville. Change for Memphis. One hour wait, which is fine because we use our newly found Greyhound technique, then toddle off for a bite to eat. God smiles on us once more by providing an air-conditioned, spacious, on-time coach for our four hour journey to Memphis.

TIME: 18.00
Arrival in Memphis. Struggle to locate bus station to catch free shuttle to pre-booked campsite. We ask numerous locals, but none is sure, albeit helpful. We ask the Lord to smile on us once more and provide a cheap, available taxi. We turn back one block and notice a sparkling taxi just offloading it’s passengers. We capitalize. Thank you Lord.

TIME: 18.45
The campsite is absolutely ideal. There is a swimming pool, restaurants nearby, and an adjoining hotel with a bar. We are pleased, particularly when we see our cabin. Simple, but perfect. An air-conditioning fan, a double amd a bunk bed, and a verranda, with separate picnic table and barbecue, all overlooking the rest of the campsite. We decide it is going to be an excellent location for a couple of beers later on.

TIME: 19.30
We frequent the China Buffet and chance upon an all-you-can-eat for $8 offer. We accept, in the hope that we may finally consume some fruit and vegetables. Success. They are plentiful. Payno stuffs himself with three plates of seafood, followed by melon, whilst Quiff manages merely one plate of Chinese, followed by five helpings of fresh melon. Clearly the travellers had been suffering from a lack of traditional British fruit and veg, the kind you’d buy from Mark Fowler’s stall…

We decide to try the ‘Heartbreak Hotel’ bar, for a swift couple of bevvies before early closing (as it’s Sunday). Unfortunately, the bar is smaller than a gnat’s nipple and we turn to leave, slightly dispirited. However, our moods are enlightened when we walk past a just-opening lift (elevator), and out walk two scantily clad young maidens, obviously in distress and in need of two burly, muscular, young British travelling heroes to allieve their situation. As we didn’t fit this description, we left rather promptly, in much higher spirits as the Gods were clearly sending us novelties amd luxuries. It was most encouraging.

TIME: 22.00
We spend the remainder of the evening sipping lager on the verranda, pondering our mission. We have had no contact from London recently, and we are worried that our discoveries may be far more urgent than we expected. Our country is relying on us, millions of people need our discoveries to aid their alcohol-consuming careers. We shall not fail. We discuss many-a-subject: beer, women, jobs, locals, and music during a quiet, pleasant evening. Memphis, and Graceland in particular, is home to the legend that is Elvis. Payno announces that he is, in fact, a closet Elvis fan, and we sit in awe at his obvious popularity. We encounter problems, however, with local mosquitoes. We fight a long, hard battle and many lives are lost, the full scale of which we shall not know ’til the morning. Our predecessors would be proud.

TIME: 23.00
We have noticed an increasing use of Americanisms by ourselves. This is worrying. Our sovereignty should never be forgotten, or replaced by another culture. We are British and we shall fight on for King and country.

Quiff remarks that he didn’t think Elvis Costello was so popular.

Day 8 - Gracelands
LOCATION: Memphis (Tennessee).
DATE: 06/08/01.

TIME: 04.00
Shhccuurrrrrruuaccck. Payno turns over on his bed once more, the extremely adhesive mattress sticking to his sweaty skin.

TIME: 05.00
Shhccuurrrrrruuaccck.

TIME: 09.00
Payno emerges from his adhesive mattress for a very welcome swim. Both weary travellers are full of anticipation given that we would soon have the opportunity to view the home of the ‘King’, although this is rather tempered for Payno by the perceived risk of thunderstorms. Quiff, on the other hand, is buoyed by the fact he is relatively unscathed after the previous evening’s brush with ‘the flies’.

TIME: 10.00
Gracelands is absolutely superb. Whilst it sounds corny, by the end of the tour, it is quite difficult not to be moved, regardless of whether you are a closet fan or not. The audio tour proves a test of Payno’s technical abilities, but that apart, we find it thoroughly interesting, learning all sorts of trivial facts about his life and the impact he had upon the world.

TIME: 13.00
We quickly whip around the Elvis automobile and aeroplane collection, survive another cheeseburger and head for the lights and towers of downtown Memphis, Tennessee, in order to inspect the ‘Memphis Belle’ that lies on Mud Island in the middle of the Mississippi.

TIME: 14.00
Our hopes are ruined as the day turns sour. Payno, who arrived in the US with enough cash to last a week, and who is consequently dependant upon his Switch card, via Cirrus, realises that it fails to work here. Panic sets in, Quiff looks firstly confused, and then completely hacked off as he correctly concludes that the sight-seeing has reached an abrupt end. Several banks later and a desperate attempt to call the parents (which incidentally has probably got them seriously worried). We emerge still penniless, but set on the idea of a rejuvenating beverage.

However, once again, contrary to his very generous mood the previous day, the Lord decides to foil our cunning plan. “This I.D. is easy to fake…..I know, ‘cos I studied in the UK” was the outrageous claim made by the barman as yet again another bar renders the ISIC card as useless. So we were left to contemplate our serious problems over a Pepsi. Quiff’s hopes soar when he stumbles across the Fender guitar manufacturing outlet and nearly reaches climax contemplating the credit card purchase of a $4000 musical instrument.

TIME: 17.30
Payno’s immediate finances are solved by a very strenuous 40 minute hike to a late night bank, where the combination of a credit card and passport gets him out of jail. Now relaxed, another visit to the China Buffet ensues, followed by the customary intake of alcohol. Yet again flies and thunderstorms (fast replacing ex-girlfriends as the nemeses) threaten, but we remain upbeat about our prospects, regardless of the fact that we must wake up in the morning at 6am. Payno is content that, despite the cash problems, his lifelong obsession with Tennessee remains satisfied for the next few years.

Day 9 - Temptations
LOCATION: New Orleans (Louisiana).
DATE: 07/08/01.

TIME: 05.50
Quiff is woken by a dream about snakes and spiders entering the kabin and biting him. The alarm clock sounds, we rise, shower, and taxi to the station for another day-long session on the Greyhound.

TIME: 06.15
We are shocked to discover a long queue (line) already waiting for the 07.30 trip to New Orleans (pronounced Nawlins).

TIME: 07.30
It appears there are limited spaces on the bus and it is clear that we are too far back in the queue to deserve one. Once more we pray for divine intervention, another bus, extra seats, last minute cancellations, anything. After a brief encounter with a Greyhound representative, the Lord intervenes and sends us our help in the form of a Saint. Saint Joe. Payno decides that he is going to honour Saint Joe by erecting a commemmorative statue of the great man in Plymouth City Centre. Saint Joe got us on that bus.

TIME: 09.00
We start reading. Real fat bloke in front of us. He keeps on opening Coke’s. He is large, takes up two seats. We are positioned almost opposite the restroom, awful penetrating stench emitting from there. Fat bloke can just about squeeze himself through the door. Pesky kid up front that won’t stop crying. It’s raining too, drizzle.

TIME: 13.30
After a lunch stop, we reposition ourselves further toward the front of the bus. Unfortunately we are sat next to the screaming kid. We both decide that forcing our books down it’s throat will be the only way to get silence as its mother is clearly incompetent. It’s raining harder now, thunderstorms are likely. Payno gets edgy.

TIME: 17.00
As we enter Louisiana, we notice the increase in the number of swamps. Quiff claims he saw an alligator. Raining bloody hard now, pouring in fact. We are on a 24 mile causeway. It’s basically a whacking great long bridge from the mainland, over part of the Gulf of Mexico, to New Orleans. We can hardly see out the window. The pathetically sized barriers at the side of the road cause us increasing concern for our safety, should the driver lose control. We note that the Amtrak railway line is dangerously close to the water level. Flash flooding could occur.

We are scared, the thunder’s getting louder and the rain looks like it will never stop. Payno is clearly very nervous. Sweat is seeping from his usually cool brow, his fear of thunderstorms obviously affecting him. We are, however, amused by the sight of a Mercedes convertible with its roof down fighting a losing battle against the rain. Payno decides that it’s like a goldfish bowl on wheels. We are comforted temporarily. Then that kid starts to cry again.

TIME: 18.15
Arrival at New Orleans. Big thunderstorm right on top of us. Payno clearly troubled. We taxi to the hostel. Note numerous attractive females in the vicinity. Splendid. We sort ourselves out and prepare for our mission. Alcohol intake and ‘a good crack’. Our country is relying on us.

We taxi to Bourbon Street rather than take the much cheaper bus option due to Payno’s thunderstorm phobia. The driver gives us a couple of free passes to Temptations, a Gentleman’s club on Bourbon Street. We are dubious but bear it in mind.

TIME: 20.00
The first stop is food. Payno tries jambalaya, a local delicacy, Quiff attempts to pronounce something from the menu and in the end settles for lemon chicken.

TIME: 21.00
Our first New Orleans bar. We are persuaded by the 3 for 1 sign the doorman is proudly wearing, and decide to capitalize. We note the multitude of men in the bar at first, then the live band, which consists of one guy singing to a pre-recorded backing while the rest play warm up riffs. We then realize why there is such a male-orientated clientele. The waitresses try to get you horny by offering you drinks in a sexy, seductive manner. The content of the drink appears suspect. It seems to resemble a Malibu or Archer’s shot in a big, test-tube style glass. We are approached. Payno is selected first. He cannot resist. He is clearly unnerved by the unaccustomary interest of a female. He succumbs to the temptation. He drinks, and forgets to tip the waitress, much to her annoyance.

Quiff’s reaction is different. He is sitting on a bar stool, legs apart, and the dejected waitress forgets her experience with Payno and tries to charm her way into Quiff’s wallet by shaking her booty between his thighs and squeezing his upper leg, rather too near the tackle region for his liking. He resists. He will not, and cannot, be persuaded. He thinks of his ancestors and his up-bringing. He thinks of their opinion of him, should he take part in such a degrading act. “I don’t want it” he repeats time after time, but the waitress, to her credit, refuses to yield -confident she can persuade him. But she didn’t consider his inner strength, his self-belief and his outstanding morals. After a short, sharp, stern “No”, she buggers off, leaving both Quiff and Payno rather shaken, but not put-off. We drink up and leave.

TIME: 21.30
Cat’s Meow, karaoke jaunt. We are persuaded to enter by the sight of the bar and a few birds. Expensive drinks, and it’s Bud Light. Diet Budweiser? Bloody yanks, they don’t have restaurants that offer anything but greasy fried chicken or fat-ridden burgers, and then they take the taste out of a good beer. The karaoke guy, who performs numerous songs, obviously had something stuffed down his trousers ‘cos his penis would have been a monster if it were that big! The superficial birds obviously didn’t realize this and were captivated by this sight.

TIME: 22.00
Another bar, another live band. Good guitarist, but no character in the bar.

TIME: 22.30
We’re getting a bit pissed now. We frequent a couple more bars then realize we’re running slightly low on funds. Then we remember that we have free entry to Temptations, the Gentleman’s club.

TIME: 24.00
Being pissed and not really thinking about what sort of club this really is, we enter. As soon as the door closes, the red lights hit us and we turn the corner and discover the bar, and the viewing area. We are shown to a table next to a mini catwalk style walkway and a waitress fetches us a couple of beers. The sight was shocking, yet great. We, the travellers, the ‘Crazy Limeys’, have stumbled upon a strip club.

The show begins. A nice looking female struts her stuff along the catwalk, jiggling her breasts and folding into positions that we never thought possible. Out come the wallets. A wiggle here, a dollar there. A sexy move here, a dollar there. An uncomfortable-looking position here, a dollar there. A tit in the face here, a dollar there. We are enjoying ourselves, yet there was still an embarrassing tend to avert the eyes when approached, as if we knew we shouldn’t be there.

Two barely-dressed girls approach us and sit on our laps. Fortunately the alcohol has sunk in and we cannot stand to attention, if you get what I mean. They enquire the usual small talk, and try to get us to order beer or give them money. Quiff refuses and his tart goes away. However, once more Payno shows his weakness and orders another beer.

It never arrives. When asked by a plain waitress whether or not we want another drink, Payno explains that one is ordered. The waitress disappears, only to come back claiming that the girl has taken the money as a tip and has no intention of getting him his beer. Anger is clearly visible in Payno’s eyes, but is quickly replaced by a smug, almost arrogant look as he mentally develops his approach, in true British style. “I can get the manager if you like” the plain waitress explains. “No, there’s no need” Payno replies, for fear of a kicking from a burly, toned doorman out the back. “If that’s the way she wants to earn her money, fine. I hope she has a clear conscience though, in depriving a man of his beer. If she wants to earn her money in a dishonest way, that’s fine. I hope she can live with herself”.

The waitress disappears and then the girl in question turns up. “I thought it was a tip” she explains “you said nothing about a beer”. Payno, amusingly, takes another psychological track. “Are you happy in your job?” he asks, “are you really proud about what you’ve achieved, working in a strip club?” Totally thrown, she has no reply. Payno seizes the opportunity “do your parents know you work here? Are they proud of you? Is this your chosen career?” She is gobsmacked, truly stunned at being outwitted. She had no reply. There is nothing she could have said. We had won. We leave.

Day 10 - Ed & The Humble American
LOCATION: New Orleans (Louisiana).
DATE: 08/08/01.

TIME: 11.00
We are awake. Headaches. No idea how we got home.

TIME: 12.00
Drink in cafe at top of World Trade Centre (revolving). We reflect on the previous day.

TIME: 13.00
We try and find somehwere for food. Eventually we do, we have fajitas. Try to get in casino, but Payno has forgotten his I.D.

TIME: 14.00
We visit the D-Day museum. In expectation of a typically pro-American presentation, probably featuring the phrase (in a typically slurred out American accent) ‘The D-Day landings, sponsored by Bud, King of Beers’, we are pleasantly surprised by a fair, unbiased, in-depth account of Operations Overlord and co, leaving us in a patriotic mood, proud to be British, and glad our ancestors gave the Krauts a damn good kicking. It gives us more motivation for our own mission, to show the yanks how to drink. We are further motivated by the sight of a British Union Jack flying proudly in the New Orleans wind. It appears Tropical Storm Barry has passed.

TIME: 18.00
We’re in our dorm resting. A guy dressed in tight jeans, a studded cowboy belt and a tilted cowboy hat has just decided to start a band, consisting of him and his guitar, some guy with two bongo drums, and a mouth organist. They are practising right outside our room, and repeating their same three-song repertoire over and over and over again. Good guitarist though. Lots of yelling, whooping and cheering.

TIME: 19.00
We are anticipating our ‘power drinking’ session arranged for tonight. Splendid.

TIME: 22.00
The pizza we ordered half an hour ago still hasn’t arrived. After a quick phone call, we find out the order was somehow cancelled. We re-order.

TIME: 22.30
Still waiting for organizer of power drinking session to show up. The lack of promised lager is clearly troubling us. Eventually they get themselves together and we head off to Dixie’s, a local jaunt offering cheap beer and Bourbon whisky. The group begins to gel and we converse with a variety of people - a Canadian, a New Zealander, some Englsih bird, and the owner of the hostel. Quiff takes a shine to the bird in question, but is agitated by the presence of what he terms a ’spoiler’.

A spoiler is a bloke that will see a good-looking girl talking to a guy, and then come over and totally take over. Spoilers usually focus on the girl, and force the guy to take an outside position (often causing him to leave), but well-practised spoilers sometimes talk to the guy (causing the girl to feel awkward and leave_, and then search the girl out a few minutes later. It is a most frustrating and angering experience.

Quiff is seriously umimpressed when a tall, geeky, flat-headed yank that looks like a stereotypical apprentice traffic warden spoils a budding conversation between him and the female. Potential is wiped out, but much amusement is taken throughout the evening when the spoiler makes his moves. Repeatedly, his advances are thrown out by the bird. Justice seems to be taking place.

The owner of the hostel is a very interesting chap. The hostel, apparently voted the best hostel in the USA, has a small alligator pit out the back. Two small alligators live there and Ed (the owner) tells us about how he feeds them live rats, and the occasional pigeon. We fear for our safety. The last thing we want is to get pissed, trip, and fall into the pit.

The subject of safety in New Orleans also crops up. Ed reveals to us that he has only ever had two bad experiences whilst living there. One time he was in town, looking for a particular bar, when some guy tried to pinch his wallet. After a brief scuffle, and the police turning up, Ed gets away with kicking the robber in the face under the supervision of the arresting officer.

His second story consists of when he was walking down the road, some guy approached him, and we quote Ed “this guy just came up to me and stabbed me in the arm with an ice pick, just came up and fuckin’ stabbed me man, right in the arm. Yeah! With a fuckin’ ice pick, so I took it out my arm and stabbed him back!”

TIME: 01.00
We move bars with our new found friends, the yanks, spoiler, and Ed the psycho. The evening is highlighted by an incident involving Payno, a blonde South African bird, a local, and a simple mishearing.

Upon arrival, we note the jazz band playing live to a merry, packed, dancing audience, and by now the bourbons and coke from the previous bar are beginning to set in. We can feel the old shoulders beginning to dip in time with the music, and the tell-tale signs of feet-tapping, and the customary clicking of the fingers, accompanied by the obligatory cheesy grins. We resist the temptation of the main dance floor, choosing instead a position close to the busy bar.

In front of us, we notice a man dancing with a nice-looking blonde. They dance for a while, but eventually break off and stand apart. Payno decides to inform the man that he thinks the girl is good-looking. “Yeah, but it seems I’m just not good enough for her” the local man replies, “I can tell, ‘cos I’m just a humble American”. Payno appears confused, having suffered a fatal hearing error, and now thinks the man is gay and that he said he was a homo American. “Well why don’t you go over there and try to pull another homo American?” Payno says to the man, fully expecting a pat on the back for adopting such a liberal, gay-tolerant attitude. The man smiles. “Go on buddy, see if you can pull another homo American” Payno repeats, digging a hole for himself. The man appears undisturbed, however, fortunately not twigging the repeated insults from Payno. We leave soon after, Quiff noticing warden spoiler looking dejected at the bar.

Day 11 - Casino
LOCATION: New Orleans (Louisiana).
DATE: 09/08/01.

TIME: 14.00
Ow. Hungover again. No idea what time it is. Shocked when we find out.

TIME: 15.00
We finally get our arses in gear and head off to do a bit of sightseeing. We search out the French quarter and the famous market and cathedral there. We find them but are not particularly impressed, nor are we in the right mood to undertake such touristy exercises. We decide we are in need of something less strenuous, something that requires little brain power or skill. We make for the casino.

TIME: 15.30
The first thing that is particularly striking about the casino is the sheer number of lights and machines inside. Everywhere you look you see people (usually older) sticking quarters in neon-ridden machines in the hope that they might just get lucky.

We get ourselves $10 worth of quarters and choose a machine to waste it on. We sit ourselves down and study the chosen machine. It tells us there are many combinations to win, involving the movement of candy bars onto the win line. We don’t understand the game at all, but pump in 50 cents anyway. We press the ‘go’ button and win $10. Splendid! We resist the urge to cash in on our stroke of luck and continue to throw away all our money. It is a good experience though.

TIME: 20.00
Dinner at Thai restaurant. Excellent food. Cafe Siam.

TIME: 22.30
We install ourselves in a relaxing bar, no doof-doof music, just pleasant soft-rock. Clearly fatigued, we credit card rounds of Budweiser, accompanied by Captain Morgan Spiced Rum in the hope that we will feel in a more lively mood. No such luck, we hang around until late, but concede defeat and head back to the hostel, wary of our early morning start.

Day 12 - Brat
LOCATION: Panama City Beach (Florida).
DATE: 10/08/01.

TIME: 07.45
Somehow we wake up and get to the Greyhound station on time for the 09.45 to PCB.

The journey is fine. Whilst we are unusually lucky with a relatively smooth boarding, Payno is reminded of tbhe reasons that underpin his belief that children are of no interest to him until he is at least 27….. a screaming brute terrorizes the travellers until we reach Mobile, Alabama.

TIME: 17.45
We reach PCB and encounter for the first time the American concept of ‘flag stops’. The barely existent bus stop will prove troublesome for the travellers, one suspects, when we wish to depart.

TIME: 19.00
Dinner at a pizz buffet is good. We head out to a large night club. It proves to be a night of frustration given that our bodies are again becoming immune to alcohol. Plenty of females are around, mostly in couples. Payno thinks he has fallen in love with a black-haired bird with a pert bottom…..

Tired, we retire to our cabin after a poor ‘nite’s’ entertainment.

Day 13 - Pulling Technique
LOCATION: Panama City Beach (Florida).
DATE: 11/08/01.

TIME: 12.00
We emerge from a heavy sleep totally rejuvenated. A long-term ambition of Payno’s is fulfilled when breakfast is taken in a Waffle House.

TIME: 13.30
The holiday hits a new high….. finally we make it to a beach. The sea is warm, the sand is almost perfect white. It is not as nice as the Carribbean, but it certainly beats the Bristol Channel coast! The afternoon is for once spent relaxing. We like PCB because it is not a place that has too many wordly sights, so we do not feel guilty about doing nothing in particular.

TIME: 17.00
Payno slips off to do some much needed washing. His socks are becoming a very dubious colour, and his t-shirts have developed a dark yellow sweat patch. Quiff, meanwhile, uses the time to try and catch up on some sleep before the evening’s planned seafood meal and early drinking start in anticipation of an eventful night in La Vela, the largest nightclub in the USA (which isn’t actually true). Payno returns, constructs a makeshift clothes line and we head out to Hammerhead Fred’s.

TIME: 18.00
The restaurant is unlike most others that we have frequented. Not only is there a lack of hamburgers and fried chicken on the menu, but there is live sport on tv, waitresses that come back every two minutes to see if you are ok, and a disctinct non-existence of time between courses. We struggle through more Buffalo wings (pretty much the only standard American foodstuff on offer) and a plateful of shrimp each, before heading back to the KOA campsite to get drinking.

Quiff has his hand shat on by a bird.

TIME: 23.00
After a skinful of taste-free Budweiser and a couple of watermelon punch Jack Daniels concoctions, we stroll out across the road to the club, pay an extortionate $15 entry and study the place, reputed to have eight different nightclubs inside. It’s true, there are lots of different rooms, and many of them are packed, but we cannot for the life of us find all eight.

Despite this minor setback, we settle in two adjoining rooms - one with dance house music blaring out, the other with a live band called the Poptart Monkeys playing. We note the splendid number of pert arses in the vicinity, but feel that further intoxication is necessary. The Poptart Monkeys prove to be a most entertaining group to watch, the bass player with his crazy specs and the WWF guitarists providing the majority of our amusement. We venture into the house music club, intent on introducing our ‘piss-take’ dancing to the locals, and perhaps entering into communications with sexy American women. We cannot help but note the abundance of males in the club, as well as many couples. Not put off by this, we shove our way into the dancefloor and begin the usual cheese routine, including the first American appearance of the Shopping Trolley and the Cement Mixer.

It is after about half an hour of embarrassing dancing stupidity that we deduce the American style of pulling. We have much to learn, it seems. Instead of dancing like two drunken goons, and waiting for a girl to feel sorry for us, come over and put us out of our misery, we ascertain that to get a girl’s attention, we must first dance close behind her, get in the interlocking position, and then manoeuvre our genitalia so it rubs against her arse. After a while, she will either turn round and kiss you, or knee you in the bollocks for being a dirty pervert. As neither of us have practised this technique in the past five years, we decide that we have neither the experience, nor the guts to try, and we continue our dancing, opting for a more genuine, natural approach. As the ratio of male to female rises from stupid to downright ridiculous, we realize that PCB is also going to bear no fruit.

Quiff develops a bout of drunken chlostrophobia, which then worsens into a case of inebriated negativity, he is clearly suffering from female withdrawal. The perception he has of the USA being an oasis of slender, sexy girls is in fact proving to be flawed. Instead, it would appear that the USA can offer no more than a barren desert, with miles of sand in every direction. The oasis is out there, but we need a map of how to find it, a map, it seems, that only the locals hold.

TIME: 03.00
Fatigue sets in, and Payno develops inextinguishable hunger. We set off in search of the Waffle House we had eaten in only that morning, and the sexy middle-aged waitress that said we had a “cute little accent”, only for Payno to mishear once more, thinking she had remarked that he had a ‘cute little ass’. The Waffle House is closed, but the lights are still on in the Pizza Hut delivery shop. Payno approaches, questions if they are still open, then tries to persuade the attendant to bake him “just one” when she says that they are closed. She declines, but does offer a stone cold one for $5. Payno refuses the offer and departs, intent on locating another fast food establishment. It is clear that there is no alternative, so after a brief scout around, Payno runs back to the shop to buy the pizza, but only if he can haggle it down to $3.50. He emerges two minutes later, pizza in hand, and with a large grin on his face. “Got it for nothing” he says between mouthfuls, “they wanted me to stop hassling them, so they gave it to me for free!” The pizza proves too much for the travellers, so we take it back to the kabin, intent on it being our breakfast. Wary of the red ants that seem to have taken a shine to our accommodation, we decide to tie the box to a conveniently positioned loop on the kabin ceiling, leaving it dangling in mid-air, out of the ants way.

Day 14 - The Ant War
LOCATION: Panama City Beach (Florida).
DATE: 12/08/01.

TIME: 11.30
We are at war. At 11.25 this morning, the Travellers released the following statement:

We, Captain Timothy David Payne, and Captain Jonathan Anthony Cook, after an unprecedented, unprovoked attack, declare war with the Ants. We tolerated their existence in our land, even let them consume the remnants of a spilt beer, but they have overstepped the mark this time. Their unforeseen and inappropriate actions leave us with no alternative. We shall defend ourselves in true heroical, honourable British fashion, until we defeat and conquer them. Their movements and their brutal attack must be assuaged.

At 11.20 on Sunday 12th August 2001, the Ants did spitefully invade the fresh washing of Captain Payne. They proceeded to conceal themselves cunningly on the camouflaged background of the crispy clean clothing, before mounting a full-scale biting attack when the item, a blue t-shirt, was worn.

The motive for the attack, perhaps down to overhearing Captain Payne’s tales of holocaustic activity with the Ants in his younger days, is still yet to be deduced. It was a seething attack, the Ants waiting in anticipation before sinking their teeth into Captain Payne’s soft skin. Captain Payne was left reeling, particularly after previous skirmishes with the Ants’ allies, the Mosquitoes and the Flies, had left him with numerous visible blemishes. This activity has left Captain Payne in stinging pain, after up to 30 bites had been actioned.

TIME: 11.35
The Travellers are plotting counter-attacking tactics. It appears that Captain Cook will take his battalion to the left flank, armed with two Carvella (a sub-division of Howitzer) shoes, a flat Jack Daniels Watermelon Punch bomber, and a large amount of Off Bug Spray gas grenades. Captain Payne will take the right flank, penetrating the central right zone of the main conflict area. He will be armed with a Corelli novel bomber, an H-broom, and twelve Thrifty Dutchman flame-thrower matches. The two battalions shall attack the enemy’s strongest zones, known as the Nest and the Table, before striking their isolated infantry in No Man’s Land. The pincer movement MUST succeed in order to regain the T-shirt territory. We shall fight them in the Kabin, we shall fight them on the Porch, we shall fend off and we shall drive back the enemy, for they can take our spilt beer, they can take our Gatorade, but they will never take our t-shirts!

TIME: 11.40
The Carvella shoes prove ineffective against the quick movement of the Ants. Attention is shifted to the Jack Daniels bomber. A cunning weaopon, the cardboard is flown over the enemy infantry and dropped, covering them. As they flee, the cardboard is slid along the ground with heavy aerial force, causing the frail bodies of the enemy to be crushed and smeared over the battle ground. Captain Payne’s use of the H-broom has the enemy scattered and running for cover. The counter-attack has been launched. Progress is slow, the mission, to recapture the T-shirt territory. It’s underway.

TIME: 12.00
The Ants are on the retreat. The pincer movement is working nicely, but there are heavy casualties on both sides. Many Ants were caught in the Off Bug Spray and Thrifty Dutchman crossfire, whilst renegade commando Ants infiltrated the Travellers defence, initiating biting attacks on the unguarded ankles. The Battle of the Kabin is in the balance, T-shirt territory still heavily guarded by the incessant anthropods.

TIME: 12.10
The Travellers have called in reinforcements. The Americans are now involved. Just as Roosevelt refused, initially, to send troops to help the allies in World War Two, and provided ammunition and military craft instead, the Americans of this battle have provided no troops. We have, however, been given a secret weapon, a weapon developed over several years, a weapon that can surely seal our victory, a weapon to disperse and destroy the enemy, a weapon known as Ant Spray.

TIME: 12.15
Operation Kill The Bastards is quickly conceived and executed. Captain Cook’s Carvella battalion has been allocated the task of mass cull. The Battle of the Kabin is taking a turn. The Carvella battalion swiftly wipe out the very left flank, capturing the key zone of Roof Support 1 and are heading east toward T-shirt territory. It is clear that the American Ant Spray is the dominant force in this battle, killing numerous Ants in its wake. Simple, but effective, this weapon fires out poisonous gases, that only Ants detect, at high speed, usually sending victims many inches in a gasping, anticipatory tumble. The highly toxic gases infiltrate the tiny lungs, filling them with a burning liquid, poisoning the bloodstream and ultimating in a final pulmonary implosion. Even if not in the direct wake of a spray, an Ant can be affected by the poison if in contact with it at any point up to four weeks after. Captain Payne’s Thrifty Dutchman battalion has made excellent progress on the right flank, penetrating Table zone and awaiting the pincer movement at T-shirt territory upon the arrival of the Carvella battalion.

TIME: 12.20
Roof Support 1, and Decking Cracks 2,3,5,6 and 8 now belong to the Carvella battalion. The Union Jack is flying proudly in the centre of the zone known as the Nest. The Thrifty Dutchman battalion has seized territory to the east, including Decking Crack 7 and East Table Seat. Pincer movement now completed, the Travellers now regroup and combine forces at T-shirt territory. Operations Kill The Bastards is proving to be successful, so far.

TIME: 12.25
T-shirt territory, initially seized by the Ants in an early morning raid is the scene of pure carnage. The resilient Captain Payne, still affected by the previous brutality, suffers several further bites, Captain Cook too on the receiving end of commando Ant offensive tactics. The territory is part of the Table, the zone where the Ant defence is at its strongest. The Travellers tactic is simple. The Carvella battalion attack central Table, using the American Ant Spray to coat the zone in poison, a swamp of lung-burning acid offering the jaws of death to those that go near, whilst the Thrifty Dutchman battalion utilizes the H-broom to force Ants to fall from T-shirt territory down into the Table swamp of death.

TIME: 12.30
Operation Kill The Bastards is a success. The Travellers have the Ants on the retreat. The resulting scene is one of holocaustic dimension. Hundreds of Ant corpses lay motionless in the misty air of central Table, their bodies ravaged by the toxins of Ant Spray. Across the regions of Decking Cracks 2,3 and 5 to 8, East Table Seat and the Nest, incorporating Roof Support 1, the images are similar but on a lower scale. Deserter Ants are apparent, scurrying everywhere, fleeing for their lives. Roof Support 2 appears uninhabited, and the Carvella battalion quickly take what’s left of Table zone. The Battle of the Kabin is won.

TIME: 13.30
We pop out to Wendy’s for breakfast/lunch. The afternoon is hot, so we decide to play mini-golf as we both are knackered. Payno totally thrashes the pants off a pathetic, below-par (!) performance from Quiff, much to the latter’s disgust. We go for a swim, and Quiff involves himself in an openly racist conversation about the correlating trends between high crime rates and high Afro-Caribbean population levels. This is unnerving for him, and he swiftly changes the subject to avoid offending anyone. The racist offender resembles a cross between Dracula and a Hells Angel, and says the word ‘man’ at least fifteen times a minute.

TIME: 18.00
We return to the scene of the Battle of the Kabin. It appears that Ant survivors have regrouped and embarked on their own counter-attack, apparently originating from Roof Support 2 where the Travellers have yet to command. They are shifting from their base and trying to recapture the Table, now under the efficient control of Captain Cook’s Carvella battalion. Unfortunately the brave Ants, perhaps Kamikaze, are depleted in number and are no match for the military skills of this battalion, which quickly wipes out their advance via the use of Ant Spray. The battalion then seizes the opportunity to launch an offensive attack on Roof Support 2. Ant resistance is defeated.

TIME: 12.20
Operation Death Toll is underway, the mission, to clean up the miniscule anthropod carcasses littering the battlefields of the Table and the Decking Cracks. There is a sense of sorrow, a feeling of remorse that so many died for so little, but we were invaded, the Ants decided to take on the mighty Travellers, unaware of their military capacity. Our operations were successful, T-shirt territory regained and the enemy exterminated. Our only fear is further Ant alliances with the Mosquitoes and the Flies, and perhaps even the coalition of the Gnats, the Spiders, the Snakes or worse still - the Alligators.

TIME: 20.00
We frequent the Pizza Buffet once more, and proceed to stuff ourselves.

TIME: 20.45
London has been on the phone, the government want to promote us. We have been issued Commander status for our role in the Battle of the Kabin. The Victoria Cross could easily be within our reach. As the battle was tiring, we retire to bed early because another day on the Greyhound beckons.

Day 15 - Gay Waiter & Ghost Tour
LOCATION: Saint Augustine (Florida).
DATE: 13/08/01.

TIME: 06.30
Evil clock wakes us and we taxi to Panama City, use successful Greyhound tactics once more, and locate two seats with more legroom than we ever thought possible.

TIME: 11.00
After a nap, we decide Saint Augustine is our destination, not Jacksonville, as the Bible does not list any accommodation information for the latter. We decide that the reason for this is two-fold - its alligator farm and its ghost tours.

TIME: 18.00
We arrive after enduring a brisk trot in arduous, heavy climatic conditions. The hostel clerk convinces us to stay two nights rather than just one because there is so much to see in Saint Augustine, so we shower and settle, intending on catching the 20.00 ghost tour. Revenge attacks from the Insect Alliance prove minimal.

TIME: 20.00
A timely thunderstorm prevents us catching our ghost tour, due to Payno’s meteorological phobiae. We decide to tucker up instead and head off in search of a suitable dining facility. We stumble across a restaurant called Colombia, note it’s elevated prices, validate our dining there by the lack of expense during the day, and enter.

We are confronted by a young man with dark hair, around 19 years old who greets us in what can only be described as a homosexual manner, his eyes clearly lighting up when he focusses on Payno, and he shows us to our table, proceeding to enquire about our origins and our destinations.

When he hears that we are on our way to Charleston, South Carolina, he lets out an effeminate squeal, puts his hand on his hip, and flops his other hand over, in truly queer fashion. “I just moved from there” he exclaims, expecting us to express an interest or give a shite, he looks at Payno, longingly, but the interest is not reciprocated.

Eventually we get to order our food, and select soup as a starter. Payno opts for the traditional Gazpacho, cold Spanish soup, whilst Quiff chooses a Spanish bean dish, both with warm bread. Our waitress is a nice looking young lady, very smiley, and keen to be of service, and she clears up the dirty starter dishes and fetches a couple of beers.

At this point, the camp attendant approaches our table once more, with a sheet of paper in his hand, one side of which has the words ‘Rest Room Out Of Order’ printed in bold letters on it. Quiff is expecting this turd burglar to whisper into Payno’s ear, offering to put the note on the rest room door while they slip inside for an hour’s kissing, canoodling, and downright batty action. However, the garden path boy announces that he has taken the initiative to write down all his favourite places in Charleston.

We conclude that it is probably a list of art galleries, porn shops and gay bars. Payno suggests writing down his favourite places in Plymouth, and handing that to the bum bandit.

Anyway, our main course arrives and we polish that off, as well as some Sangria. The poo poker hasn’t finished yet though, he comes up to Payno once more, smiling lovingly, and swinging his hips. “How was your meeeeal?” he asks in a poor attempt to strike up conversation, “how was your breaaaad?” “Lovely thank you” Payno replies, trying not to sound interested, nor look the guy in the eyes. “And how was your waitress?” he enquires once more, desperation beginning to set in. “She was great” Payno declares, smiling affectionately at her as she clears away the plates.

The conversation is clearly going nowhere, but the camp waiter has one more roll of the dice. Putting his hand on the back of Payno’s chair, he asks the priceless question “and how was your water?” Quiff can restrain his relentless desire to burst out in hysterical laughter no more. “Just like any other water I suppose” Payno replies, “after all, it’s only water”. The dejected queer waiter then left, inconsolable, and so did we, rather quickly.

TIME: 21.30
We search for another bar to have a couple of beers in before tomorrow’s tourist impression. We stumble upon the ghost tour that we were going to go on earlier, but had to abandon because of Payno’s fears of thunderstorms. We pay and set off, slightly dubious about its authenticity. Our guide tells us many tales, claiming Saint Augustine is one of the most haunted towns in the US, and captivates our attention rather amazingly.

The tour is to terminate at the local cemetary, a site of many apparitions apparently. Having felt edgy at one of the ghost sites, Payno is excited at further spiritual interest. Quiff, on the other hand, is feeling particularly nervous, especially after the hairs on his legs and arms are consistently rising at every ghostly location.

We are stood at the gates of the cemetary, the guide with her back to them, and a street light on the adjoining road, throwing a projected light onto her, causing shadows behind her into the cemetary. She begins a tale about an Indian chief that has been seen many times, and a couple of young kids that had died and are repeatedly seen in the cemetary trees. She is using many hand movements to reinforce her stories, and other techniques such as raising and lowering the volume of her voice.

Suddenly Quiff jumps about three feet to his right straight into Payno, clearly troubled. The guide stops in mid sentence and the rest of the group stare. “I’m sure I just saw something coming towards me in there” Quiff claims, rather embarrassed at his actions. “You’re going mad, man” is Payno’s reassuring reply. “SHIT, I’m going home” Quiff declares, but is persuaded to stay and survives to the end of the tour, desperately in need of a beer.

DAMAGE REPORT - The Aftermath of the Battle of the Kabin
Ankle Squadron - took rather a beating in the pre-war skirmishes, particularly at Buffalo and Niagara.
Leg Division - a few injuries after minor post Battle of the Kabin fights with the Insect Alliance. Nothing serious.
Torso Unit - nothing to declare from Commander Cook’s Carvella Battalion, however the Thrifty Dutchman Battalion of Commander Payne reports a few losses on the hand and arm flanks.
Head Squad - No data available for the Thrifty Dutchman Battalion. Commander Cook’s Carvella Battalion reports no physical damage, but mental shambles after the Insects called in the Paranormals to scare the shit out of him.

Day 16 - Alligator Farm
LOCATION: Saint Augustine (Florida).
DATE: 14/08/01.

TIME: 09.30
We awake to discover that ‘unlimited’ pancakes await us. We scoff away….

TIME: 10.00
Relaxed once again, we decide that there is no point in catching the bus to the alligator farm, and therefore embark upon a 1.5 mile walk in scorching heat that takes us over the bridge and onto a small island.

TIME: 11.30
The alligator farm is very entertaining. We both enjoy the reptile and alligator shows, although the attempts of the show master to crack jokes becomes rather tiresome. The 13.00 feeding of the wild creatures is very good, although the size of the rodents that are todays lunch is a worrying thought if we ever were to get lost in the wilds of Louisiana’s swamp lands. Afterwards we once again decide to skip the bus and drag our deteriorating figures back to ‘downtown’ St. Augustine.

TIME: 14.30
Having peered around the oldest building in the city, we commit ourselves to enhancing our knowledge of the US civil war by paying a visit to the Museum of American Military Weapons. This proves interesting, if not spectacular.

TIME: 16.30
The heat finally emerges victorious over our weary bodies and an early siesta back at the hostel becomes inevitable.

TIME: 20.00
After extensive talks with some young-looking Dutch birds, we brave a fierce thunderstorm to dine in a fine restaurant. Having no idea what to drink, we decide upon an array of seven varying ales, in half-pint measures, so by the end we are not really bothered about the escalating ferocity of the thunderstorm, despite it knocking the lights out in the restaurant, much to the amusement of a loud-mouthed redneck at the next table.

Day 17 - Amtrak
LOCATION: Charleston (South Carolina).
DATE: 15/08/01.

TIME: 08.25
We are in luck, the 08.20 bus is slightly late.

TIME: 08.30
No we’re not, there are no buses to Charleston from Saint Augustine, no matter which route we take. We conclude that our only hope of arriving to meet the boys is to splash out and get on Amtrak (the railway).

TIME: 13.00
We arrive in Savannah where we intend to waste away a few hours before our scheduled Amtrak journey. Both knackered, we try to see some of the sights but end up in an English pub for lunch where we proceed to eat more than we ever thought possible. Payno decides to show off the amplitude of his belly to the entire restaurant.

TIME: 18.20
Amtrak delayed one hour. Bugger.

TIME: 19.30
Amtrak proves to be a luxurious experience when compared to the Nazi regime of the Greyhound. Fully reclinable seats, plenty of room, pillows and a man trying to persuade us to declare “Yes! I believe in God”.

TIME: 21.00
We finally meet up with Payno’s cousin and the boys in Charleston, South Carolina. All too tired to move, we have a few beers and get some kip, because we know that tomorrow is going to involve an incredible amount of alcohol…

Day 18 - “Did you spit on me?”
LOCATION: Charleston (South Carolina).
DATE: 16/08/01.

TIME: 13.00
We rise and head for a burger joint with Beth, Payno’s cousin. We proceed through the centre of town, scouting for alcohol establishments and note a fair few. We discover a fountain with its water off and spend ten minutes at the waterfront looking out over the river and the officially unsafe bridge with minimal barriers.

TIME: 16.10
We’ve bought some beer and are back at the flat with nothing else to do apart from drink it.

TIME: 20.00
We get down to business. Drink. Fuller, Gaz and Ellis are integrated into American society through the consumption of chemically engineered burgers and numerous bottles of Bud, Bud Light, Miller, Miller Lite and the new product, aptly named Bud Shite.

After a few beers, we venture out to Market Street and into Henry’s Bar. Not more than fifteen seconds after entering, Payno gets himself involved in a heated disagreement with a round local with no neck. The man in question turns to Payno with a disgusted look on his face and says, “did you spill beer on me?”. Payno mishears of course, thinking he’s said “did you spit on me?” but denies both counts anyway. The situation eventually calms down and some time later the man comes up to Payno, and we expect it to kick off once more, Gaz on bar brawl standby, but the man says “I’m sorry, I was an asshole, it was the air-conditioning dripping on me, I’m an asshole”. The astonishment on our faces is obvious, except for Gaz whose facial expression was more of disappointment at the situation not escalating into mayhem.

TIME: 01.00
We find ourselves in a Latino club and the alcohol has really set in now, we know this because we’re on the dance floor giving it some funky British dancing. “I’m not pissed” is a recurring phrase, whilst clicking fingers, dipping shoulders, and waist twisting. The highlight of the evening is Quiff’s comment to a passing blonde who seems as though she is leaving the club, and seeing as there were minimal supplies of blondes in the vicinity, he pleads “don’t leave!” in a pathetic, desperate voice, but quietly realizes his embarrassment and when she turns and asks him to repeat what he said, Quiff replies “he doesn’t want you to leave” and points accusingly at Gaz.

TIME: 02.00
Somehow we encounter a couple of American lads that have developed an annoyingly bad imitation of the English accent, and they suggest we try and find Port Side. “Port Side?” Ellis repeats, “isn’t that in Egypt?”, confusing himself with Port Said. Couple this with our counter-attacks on accent imitation, and the piss-take of every famous movie phrase ever, including “did you spit on me?” and the resulting conversation descends into sheer verbal carnage.

Day 19 - O’Reilly’s
LOCATION: Charleston (South Carolina).
DATE: 17/08/01.

TIME: 13.00
We head into town for breakfast/lunch and after trekking up and down the main street several times, entering one over-filled place and standing around aimlessly waiting for a seat, then deciding it’s going to be too long before we get seated, despite the abundance of good-looking women, we stumble into O’Reilly’s, an Irish bar/restaurant, and order on of those hungover meals, reminiscing about the previous night’s antics.

The portions are, after questioning by Gaz, far larger than expected and many of us struggle to eat even half our food. The nice-looking waitress comes over to see if we need anything, and proceeds to tell Payno that she will be impressed if he finishes his half eaten shepherds pie come vomit casserole. “Anything to impress you, love” Payno replies, obligingly, and continues to cram the remainder down his throat then dash off to the restroom to loosen the tension in his guts.

TIME: 14.00
After lunch, we wander the streets in search of some of the attractions. We decide that we’ll do them tomorrow because none of us have a camera with us, and proceed to sit on the steps of Charleston Customs House drinking Gatorade until it’s time to start drinking again.

TIME: 22.00
We drink our Bud Shite and make our way into town, heading once more for O’Reilly’s after the waitress persuaded us to come back in the evening. The bar quickly fills up and we find ourselves in a bustling place full of good-looking girls and stereotypical yanks - bulked up round the shoulders, wearing plain t-shirts, ridiculous goatee beards and cap on back to front. Payno gets talking to some bird with a Union Jack top on and eventually comes back to us claiming he’s in love….. Fuller, meanwhile, tries to use his gift of the gab, but to no avail and Quiff falls asleep at the table.

It’s been a hard day’s drinking and we stumble home through the rough, dangerous area of town shouting our piss-takes in amazingly bad American accents and clearly risking our lives.

Day 20 - USS York Town
LOCATION: Charleston (South Carolina).
DATE: 18/08/01.

TIME: 13.00
It has been decided that today is to be a day of proaction and we are going to go and see some sights, rather than just waste time until we go out and get drunk again. Our destination is Patriot’s Point, a naval museum harbouring (!) numerous attractions, including an aircraft carrier, several aeroplanes, and a submarine. We taxi there and arrive in sunny conditions, after a brief detour through the ghetto.

The impressions of standard American phrases and quotes become far more frequent, particularly when we come across the Top Gun aircraft and an escalator in the aircraft carrier. We spend hours trapesing around the boats doing impressions of US Marines, US Air Force, and ‘Nam Veterans but come away with a sense of fulfilment, a feeling that we had cultured ourselves, a grateful emotion for those that gave their lives for our lives today, a sense of historical importance, a sense that we had ripped the piss out of every single aspect of American history and culture and enjoyed every damned minute of it.

TIME: 18.00
We have phoned for a taxi, but it’s Saturday night and all the companies are very busy, resulting in long waits for their customers. A massive, dark grey blanket of ominous, almost evil-looking cloud rolls in, contrasting magnificently with the brilliant blue of the sky alongside it.

We can see lightning striking in the distance and the spots of rain fall more frequently, so we shift ourselves from our position straddling a display cannon to a sheltered section outside the naval shop, yelling “let’s haul ass!” and “jeez!” at excessively loud volume. We wait there for our taxi as the thunderstorm strengthens, depositing an amzing amount of water in a very short time.

Payno is once more getting a bit edgy and decides to comfort himself with a packet of crisps (potato chips) from the vending machine (candy machine). However, after pressing the button for the desired snack, Payno watches as the machine refuses to dispense him his food, instead whirring and dangling the crisps teasingly from the top shelf.

This is most amusing to Quiff who has wandered over to stifle his increasing boredom. He laughs loudly at Payno much to the latter’s annoyance, clearly highly amused by this unfortunate incident. Payno puts more money in and retrieves another product. Quiff, still chuckling, puts some money in and presses a few buttons, only for the same thing to happen to him! Payno grins and mutters something along the lines of “serves you right you tosser”. Still we wait.

TIME: 19.00
Rounds of “Damn!” exude from our table, each of us trying to emphasize the ‘d’ more than everyone else. The taxi still hasn’t arrived and soon calls of “what the blue hell’s goin’ on with the taxi, man!” can be heard from our direction.

TIME: 20.30
Eventually we get picked up and taken back to the flat. We settle nicely and drink what’s left of our beers, disappointed by the taxi setback, tired from the past two night’s drinking, but determined to take advantage of a Saturday night. Time passes and nobody takes the decision to get a move on.

TIME: 12.30
We meet Ashley, Beth’s housemate, and she volunteers to drive us into town, as catching a cab is unlikely and Payno refuses to risk the ongoing thunderstorm. Unfortunately, when we get there, every pub, bar and club is closing and we find ourselves with only enough time to revisit Henry’s, despite the threat of a crazy, neck-less local threatening to kill us ‘cos the air-conditioning dripped on him.

Ashley suggests going to a club across the dangerous bridge, apparently open until 5am, and we oblige as we can’t get home otherwise. The trip across the bridge is a bit scary, an eerie silence descending on the car as we get on, and a relieved tone of excitement as we get off, but we make it only to discover the club’s closed and we have to endure it all again.

TIME: 02.30
Everywhere is closed, except for a ‘gas station’ offering us beer. Despite it being 2.30 in the morning, we buy enough beer to get us pissed and head back to the flat. We start off in the lounge, but the combination of cigarette smoke and Fuller’s voice wakes Beth up and we move into Ashley’s room where the barrage of abuse towards American culture continues long into the morning.

After hours of piss-taking, a conversation about Princess Diana, and numerous sexual misdemeanours with a giant toy panda, Ashley finally flips and leaves her own room. We decide enough is enough and it’s time for bed, except for Quiff who stays and offers a consoling, apologetic arm..

Day 21 - Late Restaurant
LOCATION: Wilmington (North Carolina).
DATE: 19/08/01.

TIME: 14.30
Greyhound to Wilmington, North Carolina. A fairly uneventful trip, indispersed with a few Mexican wave style rounds of “damn!” and “jeez!”, to the annoyance of the other passengers.

TIME: 19.00
Our first impressions of Wilmington are that it is a desolate town, there is nobody on the streets and cars are a rare sight. Eventually we find a motel and check in. After a quick swim, we make our way to a restaurant and waltz in ten minutes after closing time, pleading for food. The restaurant quickly clears and we find ourselves the only people left, so we pay a hefty tip for allowing us in, and leave. It’s a long day’s travel tomorrow, so we retire early.

Day 22 - The English Bar
LOCATION: Richmond (Virginia).
DATE: 20/08/01.

TIME: 11.00
We check out and have a meal in an Irish place. Payno and Gaz annoy the waitress intensely by changing their drinks orders and confusing her.

TIME: 13.30
We locate the Greyhound station once more and wait. The knackered old early 1980’s Hard Drivin’ Atari arcade game becomes appealing and we all compete, Gaz emerging as the victor. Bus is delayed.

TIME: 15.30
We squeeze onto the bus, awaiting another arduous journey. Payno’s patience is tested by the loud, piercing voice of some woman a row or two behind. He is also subjected to the sight of a fat black woman’s sweaty arse as she bends over to get her bag from under her seat, accompanied by a lingering smell of urine coming from her direction, backed up by the sight of wet patches around the groin area and leaving us to conclude that at some point during the day she pissed herself.

Quiff overhears a conversation between two men about how one of them was arrested and charged with many offences, and another man that should have got off the bus earlier but forgot, leading us to the conclusion that the Greyhound coach system in North America is for convicts, strange families, dense people, and those with no bladder control.

TIME: 21.00
After an amusing taxi ride with a Jordanian racist spy that knew all about England and bore a remarkable resemblance to Borat from the Ali G show, we check in to a posh hotel and the first thing we do is snap the cistern chain in the room’s toilet.

We pop next door to the 24 hour cafe and tucker up before heading off to an English bar just around the corner. We are delighted to see that the bar has Sky television and we can consequently find out football results from the past couple of days action. Quiff is furious about the ridiculous refereeing display between Everton and Tottenham and becomes so upset that he cannot concentrate on the round the table Trivial Pursuit game that has kicked off. Ellis shows that he clearly knows everything and the game rapidly, and inexplicably, descends into a heated argument about smoking in bars, resulting in Gaz leaving the table for a sulk, and a cigarette.

TIME: 02.00
The gothic waitress snatches what remains of our customary Bud bottles and kicks us out. Not being rat-arsed yet, we proceed to ask passers-by where to go. However, it appears Richmond, Virginia, can offer no night club or late bars so it looks like we’ll have to head home and be forced to remember exactly what we did that night when we get up the next day.

There is still time, though, for Fuller to strike up conversation with a 6 foot black-eyed German leper, and for the rest of us to grab a black man and force him to sing New York, New York with us in the middle of the road.

We proceed back to the 24 hour cafe for some unwanted and totally unnecessary grub, validating our visit by convincing ourselves that it is just an early breakfast, and Payno risks incarceration by stuffing a blueberry muffin down his pants. Gaz then challenges Payno to a late night wrestle on the hotel room floor.

Day 23 - Prostitutes
LOCATION: Washington D.C. (District of Columbia).
DATE: 21/08/01.

TIME: 11.00
Panic! We have to be out by 11.00. We lie to the hotel receptionist about our reason for being late, and head off for a long walk to the Greyhound station just to save us $3 each in a taxi.

TIME: 14.15
We manage to all get on a packed Greyhound bus and while away the two hour trip by discussing football and women. Our only worry is that we are not allowed to reserve places in the Washington youth hostel, and it is apparently filling up.

TIME: 17.00
We are in luck, our prayers to the Lord were answered, we have secured places in the hostel. We venture out to explore America’s capital and head for a bar offering a choice of 850 bottled beers, so we duly oblige and consume a variety of lager, including Bolivian, Chinese, El Salvadorean, Lebanese, Peruvian and a local brew called Foggy Bottom, served by an excellent waiter that resembled Willy Wonka.

TIME: 22.00
We search up and down the district of Adam’s Morgan for a decent, lively-looking bar with a few birds in, and decide to try one called Madam’s Organ, which we all agree is an excellent play on words. There is a talented musician playing music live, country style tunes with a guitar and a mouth organ, but it becomes more and more repetitive and irritating during the evening. Unfortunately there is no female talent, so we drink three Buds and leave. Payno is harassed by a waitress for not tipping her.

TIME: 24.00
We are recommended a bar called the Common Share, which seems to be a run-down, seedy dump with heavy thrash music and a heavily male dominated clientele, it should suit us nicely. Fuller, whilst waiting for the disgusting, lock-less toilet, manages to begin conversation with two American girls that were really rather ugly. “You’re English?” they ask in a keen, somewhat superficial manner. “That’s right” is his reply, “oh” they say, “we do discounts for English people”. “So you work around here do you?” Fuller enquires. “No, we’re from out of town, but we do discounts for English people” they reply, with a wink of the eye and a reassuring nod, telling him indirectly that they are, in fact, prostitutes.

The barman puts on a Rage Against The Machine cd to the delight of Quiff and Ellis, and proceeds to head-bang and throw himself around behind the bar. Fuller manages to wangle five VIP passes to a club up the road, but when we eventually check it out, it proves to be unsuitable for our kind.

The atmosphere in the Common Share is excellent and everyone’s friendly enough, the beer is cheap, and the service is entertaining. The prostitutes slyly and cunningly reposition themselves right next to us, but we leave before we give them the chance to make money out of us. The route home offers us a rest stop at a pizza parlour and we consume more pizza than is imaginable.

Day 24 - Sightseeing
LOCATION: Washington D.C. (District of Columbia).
DATE: 22/08/01.

TIME: 11.00
Once again panic sets in as we have to recheck-in to our room. We are too late, and so have to check in to other rooms instead, but this is not a problem. Payno and Gaz decide that their guts are troubling them and that they need to lighten their loads, unfortunately neither of them appears physically able to do so until Quiff suggests a technique learned from university that involves the shouting of the words “I am the gate-keeper” which tenses up the abdomen and enables the free flow of digested bi-products. Payno toddles off to the thin-walled toilet in a packed reception hall and proceeds to test out this technique to the amusement of his audience.

TIME: 12.00
We walk to the White House and concoct theories of how we would take it over just in order to raise the Union Jack Flag in place of the far too common Stars and Stripes. There is no sign of an opportunity to yell abuse at President Bush, so we head off across the park towards the obelisk that is George Washington’s memorial.

On the way, we watch a game of soccer between two makeshift teams and find ourselves criticising every last detail of their play, including their clear lack of structure. Ellis is forced to subdue his desire to yell military comments about ‘Nam for fear of repercussions from a true veteran.

TIME: 13.00
The rather phallic Washington memorial obelisk proves to be a favourite location for local joggers and fitness freaks so we quickly decide it’s time to move on to the Lincoln memorial over by Reflective Lake, the scene of Forrest Gump’s award ceremony. This is an excellent memorial, but we don’t stay long due to the welcome sight of a refreshments centre.

TIME: 14.00
We trot off across Memorial Bridge towards JFK’s memorial, avoiding the ever-present joggers and power walkers and criticising their running techniques because we are obviously professionals. Quiff is attacked by a Kamikaze dragonfly that believes his bright yellow Brazil shirt is an overly-sized daffodil, and we enter Arlington cemetary.

It is a very historical location with thousands and thousands of graves, all linked to conflicts and it is hard not to think that war is a pitiful waste of human life. We visit the grave of JFK and the eternal flame and head off to the tomb of the unknown soldier where we proceed to witness the changing of the guard. This is a robotic display of military behaviour, with guards walking completely in unison before doing the 21 pace walk by the memorial, waiting 21 seconds, twiddling with their guns and starting all over again.

As we walk away from this, we pass a father with his two sons, about 12 and 15 years in age, and amuse ourselves by listening to an argument concerning the elder son and how he doesn’t want to watch the changing of the guard. About two minutes later, the elder son runs past us crying and sits down at the side of the road, much to our amusement.

TIME: 16.30
We experience the D.C. Metro system which proves to be quick, simple and cheap, and we head off to Capital Hill for some more sightseeing. After this we stop at an Irish pub for a cheeky beer and are astonished at the extortionate cost of $5 a drink. We decide that tonight should not be a heavy drinking session, and that getting rat-arsed is not a good idea if we are to get up early and head for New York. We plan to leave before 09.00 after a good night’s kip leaving us clear-headed.

TIME: 20.30
We’ve tuckered up and have located a sports bar in Georgetown where we are confronted, upon entering the establishment, by a very good-looking young lady. Quiff falls in love with her. We proceed to the bar where we see an even better looking girl, one of those birds you can’t keep your eyes off and would pay a lot of money for, and we all fall in love with her, although Quiff claims that she is his because he saw her first.

The bottles of Budweiser that we force down our necks every single night leave us with an immunity to its taste, there is simply no flavour to it, but we guzzle it down anyway, pausing for a moment to vow never to drink it again. The lack of women in the bar, except for the gorgeous bartender that Quiff keeps giving money to, forces us to re-evaluate our drinking location, we decide to find another bar down the street.

TIME: 22.00
An ugly ginger bird informs us of the best places to go on a Wednesday night and we head off to Rhino’s where we pay $7 for all you can drink Miller Lite, grateful for the fact we don’t have to drink Bud. We go upstairs in the hope that some birds might be up there, there aren’t any, but we confront ourselves with winner-stays-on pool for an hour before gulping down as many vodka drinks as possible in the five minutes before our offer runs out.

The proposed ‘quiet-one’ evening has clearly been abandoned and we are now intent on getting totally leathered. We move downstairs and note that a few birds have showed up, giving us the excuse to get to the bar and drink until we feel drunk enough to demonstrate piss-take dancing in front of the whole bar.

Now, if you are a nice young girl enjoying a pleasant night out with a couple of friends, just intent on having a drink or two and a bit of a dance, and you are confronted by a group of five pastey white, glazey eyed British piss-heads, you are bound to be a little hesitant in talking to them.

Spare a thought then, for the three Californian girls that were the victims of our drunken advances. Gaz and Payno identifying their prey and going in for the kill, leaving Quiff to pick off the one remaining wilderbeast, a technique learned through a combination of studying the lions of the Serengeti Plain, and four years at university.

The next part of the evening is a bit of a blur, the vodka was obviously beginning to have an effect, and the birds were looking lovely. Fuller and Ellis decide enough is enough and head home in a taxi, only to ask the driver to stop in the red light district so they can relieve the aching pain in their groins….. Gaz disappears off with one of the birds on his arm, Quiff sings New York, New York to another in a deserted D.C. street at 05.00 after she said he was boring her, and Payno decides he has to stay in a hotel as it’s obviously too far to walk back to the hostel…..

Day 25 - Confused Racist
LOCATION: New York City (New York).
DATE: 23/08/01.

TIME: 08.00
Quiff is woken up by one of the dormitory members because the evil clock has rung and woken everybody up, except for the one person it was intended to wake - Quiff.

TIME: 11.00
Still no sign of Payno, we check out of the hostel for him, only to meet him as we queue up. We taxi to the Greyhound station for one final push, one last trip with the gutter snipe of North America, one more journey with the lowest of the low, one more chance to have a laugh at the fat people trying to squeeze into the restroom, one last opportunity to see if we can recite the standardised speech each and every driver makes at the start of the journey, and one final chance to angle our seats back and eradicate the leg room of the burly convict behind.

TIME: 14.00
Our journey to New York is to be on a Peter Pan coach rather than an official Greyhound one, but we are not disappointed by an apparent hike up in class and quality. Even before we’ve left, an argument between a ticket-checker and a passenger erupts with the passenger claiming the ticket collector is picking on him and victimising him about the validity of his ticket, purely on racist grounds. This is most confusing to us as both people involved are black.

TIME: 17.00
We eventually book into a hostel despite the desperate attempts by the receptionist to get absolutely everything wrong and nip out for a meal. We decide on a restaurant just across the road which we thought was a pizzeria. It turns out however, that it is a Mexican place and nobody speaks English.

TIME: 20.00
There is talk of frequenting an Irish pub just down the road, but after last night’s ‘quiet-one’ we decide against it, focussing instead on getting a good kip before tomorrow’s Friday night antics.

Day 26 - Liberty & Coke-head
LOCATION: New York City (New York).
DATE: 24/08/01.

TIME: 11.00
Eventually we get up, shower and get the hell out of the hostel, spurred on by the prospect of seeing the Statue of Liberty, and the freaky French bird that does nothing but stare at us. We take on the New York Metro system and come out unscathed, and head to the place where you board the boats to Liberty Island.

This particular place proves to be an oasis of watch-sellers, fake Oakley sunglasses sellers, crap musicians and novelty acts such as the golden spray-painted tramp and the incredibly flexible black man, able to manoeuvre himself into all sorts of unthinkable positions. Quiff gets himself into an argument with a crusty middle-aged yankee woman about queue jumping and then takes delight in boarding the boat way before her.

TIME: 12.00
We navigate ourselves onto Liberty Island, ignore the statue temporarily, and make for the refreshments parlour where Payno proceeds to once again encounter the processed rubber cheese that plagued him at the Traveler’s Grill in Columbus, Ohio, when ordering a portion of nachos. Quiff and Gaz embark on an ice war, involving the flicking of hollowed-out ice at each other via the use of a straw, until Quiff overshoots and almost takes out a large black woman carrying a tray of food.

TIME: 12.30
We make for the statue and note its extreme green-ness, caused by something called ‘patination’ where the copper and stuff oxidizes in the air and slowly turns green. Fascinating. We pretend to take photos of the statue, but cunningly photograph all the nice looking women that we see, with the statue in the background. Splendid!

One passing group of birds wave at us, thinking Quiff’s Foster’s t-shirt means we are Australian. We wave back, fully intent on pretending that we are. We plan to get on the pedestal of the statue as the crown is closed, but are discouraged by the length of the queue, deciding instead to have a look at Ellis Island, the former immigration location, then head into town to buy some clean clothes for the evening.

TIME: 13.45
We get back on the boat and arrive at Ellis Island, much to Ellis’ delight, and we photograph him next to the large Ellis Island sign, much to the confusion and amusement of the long, neighbouring ferry queue. After a somewhat brief scout around, and the further photography of sexy women with pert arses, we leave and head for Macy’s.

On the ferry back though, Ellis decides to photograph a lovely pair of legs by employing a very subtle point-without-looking-through-the-lens strategy, but is highly embarrassed when the camera flashes and everybody stares.

TIME: 16.00
We walk down 5th Avenue looking for the big and famous department stores, and manage to walk straight past the Empire State Building without even noticing it. We find Macy’s, reputed to be the biggest department store in the world, we enter and all come out much poorer. Quiff spends $120 on jeans and a polo shirt, Ellis splashes out $104 on two Phat Farm t-shirts and Payno inexplicably forks out $52 on a new copping shirt that we decide looks rather like a combination of snake skin and crap golden wrapping paper.

TIME: 21.00
We’re back at the hostel and about to start drinking the mandatory bottles of Bud. Quiff befriends a travelling Kiwi, an act that is later to haunt the whole group. The New Zealander decides he wants to come out with us, but not before he’s cut up a line of cocaine and snorted it up, which is a bit of a shock. He proceeds to say things such as “what do I have to do to get a laugh out of you Poms?”, indispersed with more lines of coke, and we decide we have to get rid of him as soon as possible.

TIME: 23.00
We Metro to Bleeker Street amd enter the Peculiar Pub, which appears to be a male dominated area with a few nice birds scattered about the place. We manage to set ourselves nicely at the bar, Fuller is on top form and the birds come flocking.

Quiff attempts to speak Spanish to a 25 year old Brazilian girl that is disgusted at seeing him with two bottles, eventually fobbing him off with the “I’m too old for you” routine. Gaz strikes up conversation with a posh investment banker from Oxford University before passing her over to Payno who thinks about testing out his new copping top….. Fuller disappears and Ellis drinks at the bar.

The Kiwi, now labelled Coke-head is seen wandering up to people and mocking them, saying “I’m only taking the piss out of your accent mate”, leading us to the conclusion that he is one tomato short of a salad, and as Payno put it, “a fuckin’ liability”.

TIME: 03.00
We leave this bar and move on to an Irish bar where Payno falls in love with the Irish bar girl and Quiff practices his drunken sleep-dancing. The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur, but highlighted by the taxi ride home when Gaz hops in a cab and shouts “follow that cab!” at the driver, who then remarks upon Payno and Quiff asleep in the back of the cab he’s chasing.

Day 27 - Empire State Building
LOCATION: New York City (New York).
DATE: 25/08/01.

TIME: 13.00
We get ourselves ready and head into town to have a look at Times Square, Broadway and the Empire State Building. We are amazed by the sheer number of neon lights flashing all sorts of stuff at us and amused by the incessant preacher of the gospels shouting religious things at his pathetically sized audience. We have a look at the ESPN building in the hope of finding out the football results, but in vain.

New York seems to have every kind of shop that you can think of, and each one has a large neon display trying to flog you something. There are an awful lot of people in this area too, and far too many good-looking women to stare at and drool over, it really puts England to shame.

TIME: 17.00
We get to the Empire State Building and all start staring at the good looking blonde in the ticket queue, much to her boyfriend’s annoyance. Quiff is surprisingly calm, despite the prospect of being at the top of a 1200 foot building, his fear of heights obviously not yet affecting him. The elevator climbs 80 floors at 1,200 feet per minute, and we arrive at the observatory where Quiff tries to brave the sights of people and cars being barely visible. Gaz nearly drops his camera in trying to take a vertical shot, Fuller makes for the refreshments and Quiff shouts at a pigeon perched on the railings for being “fuckin’ crazy”.

The sight from the building is rather magnificent, you can see the majority of New York City, from the pathetic looking Statue of Liberty to the awesome, imposing magnificence of the twin towers of the World Trade Center. After about half an hour, to Quiff’s relief, we descend and head for Little Italy to soak up some more culture before going out on the razz again.

TIME: 18.30
We struggle to locate the main area of Little Italy, but settle for the outskirts and Soho too. We go to Milady’s restaurant where Quiff falls in love with the lovely waitress, and Payno makes him jealous by grasping her round the hips when squeezing past to go to the restroom. We concoct an excuse as to why coke-head liability can’t come out with us tonight and head back to the hostel for a few beers.

TIME: 22.30
We make it into town and ask people for directions to a bar called the Naked Lunch, only to discover that we are, in fact, standing just outside it. This expensive bar offers a classy clientele and a shove for the restrooms. Payno asks some girls how to dance and Fuller wanders off to chat to as many people as possible.

The bar proves to be too hard-hitting on our wallets, so we leave and end up in a British bar called the Red Lion where there is live music and a bustling atmosphere. Fuller and Quiff watch in awe at the superb guitarist, Gaz sits and watches football on the tv and Ellis drinks at the bar. We strike up conversation with a few Irish birds before heading home via the Metro, where Quiff starts a fight with the automated ticket dispenser machine for being crap and not taking his money in time.

Day 28 - The Baseball Game
LOCATION: New York City (New York).
DATE: 26/08/01.

TIME: 14.30
We leave the hostel and head through Central Park into Downtown Manhattan for some food and a trip to the Virgin Megastore. We are amazed when what we thought was a one-floor store turns out to have three floors and more music-related merchandise than we ever imagined. Quiff, Gaz and Ellis sit in the Virgin Megastore coffee shop and amuse themselves by the thought of Payno and Fuller chasing round neighbouring stores in search for a much-needed restroom as the Virgin ones are closed. We also go to see John Lennon’s Memorial and the place where he was shot.

TIME: 19.00
We take the Metro to Shea Stadium where we credit card tickets to see the New York Mets play the San Francisco Giants in a major league baseball game. Quiff confuses himself with terminology from all other American sports, using terms such as 3rd down and face-off when asking about the rules.

TIME: 20.10
The match started five minutes ago and we’ve already missed the first home run of the game, scored by the Giants, but we settle in our Upper Tier seats and work out the rules between us. Initially it appears difficult to grasp the concept of the game, but we content ourselves by copying the actions of the man a few rows in front of us who is very animated.

There is a home run hit by Alfonso of the Mets and everybody goes wild, so we join in and enact the American Pie style slap of the arse routine to mock the opposition. However, nobody seems to be joining in our raucous football chants, adapted to suit the teams we are watching, such as “you come down to New York town, get really plastered, go back home, beat your wife, dirty west coast bastards!” and “Giants fans are homosexual”, so we just join in their tame “Let’s go Mets” chant and the booing of the Giants’ Billy Bonds, but we have no idea why he is disliked so much. We continue to shout “you rule man” and “that kicks ass dude” whenever something interesting happens, combined with the silly jigging and waving of arms in all sorts of motions.

A very strange and unusual event happens after the 4th innings, called t-shirt launch, which involves the propulsion of wrapped-up Mets t-shirts through the use of mortar-style weapons into the crowd and a mad frenzy to catch them. We are not in luck, but we did get the chance to yell a load of abuse at the shooter for firing one out of the stadium.

TIME: 23.30
After a dramatic finish involving a last minute fightback from the Giants, a load of booing and shouting “Bonds you suck” for no apparent reason, and a great deal of ridiculous celebratory dancing, we leave the stadium, delighted at our team’s 6-5 win, and keen on supporting the Mets for the rest of our lives. We head home and grab some tuck from the shop next door to the hostel after witnessing an argument, that nobody could validate, on the subway between fans.

Day 29 - The Return
LOCATION: New York City and London.
DATE: 27/08/01.

TIME: 12.00
We get up, Quiff and Payno check out and we head for an English bar in the centre of Manhattan. After a last supper of Buffalo wings and Guinness, with a spot of last-minute shopping afterwards, the Travellers split up as Quiff and Payno have to get to the airport.

It is a sad occasion as the last two weeks have provided us with a laugh a minute, and we have had more fun than we ever thought possible. The memories of the five British travellers in the mighty USA will last forever. After all, who could possibly forget the ‘Nam impressions, the baseball game, the woman with no bladder control, Cokehead-liability, “did you spit on me?”, “don’t leave!”, the endless abuse of local women, the incessant bottles of Bud and THAT night in D.C.

TIME: 16.30
Quiff and Payno check in to Air India and head off to get some tucker and a few bits to read on the trip. Quiff psyches himself up for another flight on Air India, and Payno is as reassuring as ever in informing him of which airlines were involved in certain disasters.

TIME: 20.15
Take-off is slightly delayed and we are astonished to see that the aeroplanes have to drive over motorway bridges before finally getting on the runway. Everything runs smoothly until when the meal arrives and the Indian lady next to Quiff asks the flight attendant if she can move seats. The flight is not sold out so this is possible, but Quiff takes offence, claiming it is an act of racism.

TIME: 12.15
We encounter turbulence, Quiff looks uneasy. The Indian lady keeps looking over at us nearly every two seconds, glaring right through us, Quiff suspects it is because Payno has the window shutter up and the early morning sunlight is illuminating everybody in the plane, but we don’t shut it as an act of defiance against the racist.

TIME: 07.30 (LONDON TIME)
We have landed, and remarkably smoothly too. We bundle out of the plane and head to baggage reclaim, then onwards to the arrivals hall where we expect to find Quiff’s dad, but he appears to have been delayed.

Payno decides to shoot off and catch his train, but not before pausing halfway down the stairs, turning back towards Quiff and giving the good old British military salute, a last moment of unity before the Travellers break up their partnership, a signal of the fun and amusement enjoyed during the last month, a symbol that the memories of the piss-take dancing, the gay waiter, the Niagara trek, the incalculable hours on Greyhound, Bernie’s punk club, the Ant War, Ed the Psycho, Air India, the humble American, ghost tours, numerous unnecessary expensive meals, Temptations Club, and the awesome two weeks with the boys, will never be forgotten, nor replaced by inequivalent comparisons.

The trip has been a success, and the images imprinted into our minds will last forever. Our mission was to sample the local delicacies, a mission that we completed well and may never again be able to duplicate, a mission that leaves us feeling sad that it had to end

Quiff gives a cool, sharp thumbs up and the Travellers go their separate ways, looking forward to the next time they will be able to re-unite and perhaps repeat the unforgettable antics of the past four superb weeks.