Day Thirty-One : New York City, NY - Providence, Rhode Island

PLEASE SEE WWW.ASIAANDBACK.COM FOR CURRENT ADVENTURES

The Final Ride.....very sad times

This was naturally a difficult day, I still felt like crap first of all, and I was about to complete the final leg of my whole trip. I left NYC pretty late and planned to arrive in Providence at a reasonable time in the evening. Actually I had planned to catch an outdoor film with Jackie, instead I rested and welled in my own misery and tried to regain some amount of health before hitting the road. I didn't feel as sad as I thought I would on the road, knowing it was my last ride. I felt disappointed it was ending and feeling a little rebellious, I considered scrapping the €300 flights and just keep riding, head north and see Maine, go to Canada and see more beautiful countryside. I guess maybe I was a little sad on this last leg. I was also elated as I had completed my trip as planned, all in one piece. I guess I was a blender of mixed emotions at this stage. 



I arrive in Providence and ride down a street that looks familiar from my last visit here (only two years previous). Jackie has advised I go somewhere central and I'm pretty much on target; when I call Jackie to confirm her location she is less than 100 yards down the road. 10 seconds later and I've sped down to be greeted with one of the most rewarding hugs I've had in weeks from this lovely girl. It is exhilarating to have completed this journey, there was so much emotion seeing Jackie at the same time. I saw she was with half a dozen of her friends, luckily I knew all of them from the last time I was here so there is hugs and congratulations all round. I wasn't a complete stranger coming into town. Jackie has a really great group of friends.

The map complete

Jackie and I spend these few days really winding down. She, who studies neuroscience in Brown has been working as hard as ever in her work and is in much need of the break which she strategically arrangers to coincide with my visit. I continue to feel poorly unfortunately, I'm trying to figure out what is wrong with me but my symptoms are changing so drastically every day, I have always accepted that either I am generally unhealthy OR I suffer from some form of hypochondriasis. The back of my throat is white and I knew I had an associated ear infection, it was just constant pain only relieved by pain killers. I felt bad that I was not in top form hanging around Jackie, perhaps a little mopey. I felt constantly nauseated and had sharp, painful migraines during these days which only subsided more than a week after I got home.

Jackie, our friend Ali who I know through her and and myself spent the guts of the next day on a 22 mile cycle out along the East Bay bike path. It was beautiful and helped me in the short term clearing out my head and getting clean air. There was plenty of chatting and laughs and it was a pleasant pace for all involved (Ali is more into the cycling than Jackie or I but he takes it handy with us). I went for a swim on a beach which is exclusively for Brown/RISD students. We had planned to cycle to a place called Bristol but just fell short.

That evening, Jackie and I went to FireWater; a burning of open fires in elevated pits along the river that runs through the city of Providence. These wood fire pits are topped up with wood from volunteers in gondalas all wearing black, there were couples in privately hired gondalas, romantic music plays through a multitude of speakers along the street and boardwalk which overlook the river. I remembered having seen the the pits a few times during the day two years previous and Jackie had described the night-time atmosphere perfectly.

It should be said that Jackie has great drive and ambition, probably more than anyone I know. She is quite intelligent which I'm a sucker but more so, she is a kind and considerate soul. 

We were both starving so we dashed to a nearby pub which I remembered from the last time. I had the locally famous Trinity wings and Jackie endured the vegetarian options of your average pub menu. Trinity is also a microbrewery and makes some great brews but I could just about tolerate my wings and most of my beer after which I insist we go home to get rest, I practically dragged Jackie out of the bar. I feel weak and really unwell in the taxi on the way home. I have my belt on but as far as I remember I am slumped on top of Jackie.

We have truly merited a lazy day now having had our cycle the day previous. It was a big difference in saddles between my motorbike and the bicycle, probably like the difference between wearing granny pants or a thong, if that makes any sense. 

Jackie and I stayed in Providence and enjoyed lovely sambos at a sandwhich bar, again, which I remmeber from the last time I was over. By the end of the few days, we had been to most of the same restaurants we had been two years previous, but they were all the old reliables and we had specifically said we would go to these places because of their reliable quality. I try my luck at a veggie reuben as I try to replenish as much nutrition into my body as possible. This sandwich is a basic layout. ALL of the walls are painted with chalkboard paint and each wall is pretty much covered in sandwiches. The menu is on the walls, like in many establishments but this is like a Willy Wonka sandwich bar and the options are endless. There is a barrel in the middle of the room and there are complimentary gherkins/pickles you can throw into your sandwhich, quality meal!!

The next day I get up and fight through with the assistance of pain relief and lozenges. This day Jackie and I have another pretty relaxing day still try to be productive about it. We watch the world cup final where Germany beat Argentina, I guess I was up for Germany because I've recently developed a love for all German people and the whole European thing. I definitely had another yummy sandwich here and it may well have been a Reuben, but I am getting my days mixed up. We attend Hemmingways for another evening meal. Hemmingways is famous for it's seafood and it didn't let us down. Again, we shared a meal their together two years previously so we knew exactly what we were in for - CHOWDER.

I managed to find a tattoo artist who would be free to do a tattoo I had in mind. I almost thought of this idea before I left Ireland. I looked at his portfolio briefly on his phone. His style was nothing like what I was getting done so it wasn't easy to assess. His lines and shading were hard to judge because the samples he was showing me was as ofter more colourful style. I went against my better instincts and decided to just go with him and get the job done. I wanted the tire track of my bike around my ankle so I went up to my bike now sitting at Ali's house, did a graphite rubbing of the tire thread onto some yellow paper, I also took some photos and popped back down to the studio. I paid $200 prior to getting started so I was tied down and committed. After sitting for two hours I didn't look at the tattoo in great detail in the shop but most likely looked at it quickly, said, 'Cool' and thanked the artist. But I knew it wasn't a 100% quality job, he wrapped it up and I waited a few hours before removing it for Jackie to assess. Bless her honesty, Jackie laughed and told me it was completely crooked which wasn't even the part I was initially concerned about. She laughed straight out when she say it but it made me giggle too. I think in a way it was a matter of time before I got a shit tattoo. We laughed about it for a while, I stell felt physically unwell and no amount of organic / raw / vegetable / vegan food was mending me, specially after challenging my immune system with this ridiculous tattoo.

On my last day heading to Boston airport I pack up my gear and walk down to Ali's house where my bike is. I take her for one last ride and really open her up. No helmet, no jacket, probably wearing shorts, ultimate freedom, I had previously taken Ali on a ride and he insisted on going topless. I took some last photos of the bike in motion and some extras just as she was when I left her at Ali's house. The camera was on a funny setting and taking the photos in motion resulted in some great 'last' photographs. This was a sad sad moment. Putting my motorbike up for sale online was also heartbreaking. 

Being my last day, I locked up the bike and probably gave her a kiss. I picked up my bags back at Jackie's house and waited about an hour at a bus stop to go in and meet Jackie (she had been squeezing in the odd hour at work while a rested). At the bus stop I struck up conversation with a Brown student, a lady addicted to crack and a psychologist. The four of us had the most riveting conversation primarily about the criminalization of drug addicts and the harmlessness of marijuana. In fairness I believe the woman was on crack (I'm not good at judging what drugs people are on) but this lovely woman made a coherant and valid argument for herself. Yes the drugs had been a problem in her life but her criminal record had been a much greater burden in her life. They asked why I was going home and what I was doing in America, the pleasure of telling people about my now successful trip did not get old, in fact it got more pleasurable as people's disbelieve became more exacerbated the further away I got from California, 'You came all the way from CALIFORNIA!!'. We chatted about all odd things as we waited for the bus, the addict had some great questions, she was a very pleasent charicature and both the student and psychologist had great empathy for her, and interest in her. We got on the bus and as we separated into our own lives, they dispersed down to the back of the bus as they wished me well. Two young ladies eyed me up on the bus and started asking me where I was going with my bags etc, same story, their questions weren't as thought-out as I had previously had with my bus shelter friends. It wasn't until I alighted the bus when 6 of the 9 people on the bus wished me well, followed by the drug addict shouting, 'It's not too late to take me with you son' after which I heard the bus driver and all the other passengers fall into laughter. I've never had the majority of a bus wish me well as I get off it. Jackie was tickled by the story. From here Jackie walked me to the station where I handed over my bike keys for the last time. The keys are naturally a sentimental token. Representative of something much bigger. Jackie nicely photographs my sadness. It's not about the bike. It's about the journey. It's about the new friends and the old friends I'm leaving behind. It's about all the good times and how America had showed me it's reasons to be proud of itself. I had seen Americas diversity and I had met the good Americans that keep it running. There was a frequent topic which came up when I was speaking with Americans and they are very concerned about the worlds perception of them, as paranoid as it seems but they are right.

Politics, war, tv, internet and social media have destroyed the reputation of America. Of the thousands of people I meet over a 5 week period, I did not meet one person who gave me any hassle whatsoever. Everybody was helpful and friendly (with literally one exception). The landscape, the countryside, the desert, the snow-capped mountains, the rolling hills, the fields of corn, the skyscrapers, railway tracks running along-side river, the sun, the sea, the smells, the food, oh the food! America it has been one hell of a ride!

The very last ride

Lesson;

Eduvacation

Education and vacation. It has been said countless time that what you learn when you travel is invaluable. I certainly find this to be true. It can't be thought in school and can't really be thought by someone. The world is out there to be discovered. People always say you should travel when you are young but I'm not sure it's strictly true. What you learn and how you see things when you travel will vary hugely depending on what part of your life you are at. That's why I think I will always be a traveler. If they ever exist, I want my offspring to travel, even if it means me taking them.

I OWN VACATION

Bye bye keys

Day Thirty : East Hampton, NY - New York City, NY

PLEASE SEE WWW.ASIAANDBACK.COM FOR CURRENT ADVENTURES

I rest until at least 6pm as I delay the inevitable and short ride to NYC. I start the day restitching my saddlebags which I had taken off the bike. They had endured an extra few miles since Kentucky and the stitches are just starting to give way again. My bike is still out near Montauk at Surfside Restaurant where I started my drinking the night previously. Bernie's car is at Stephen Talkhouse and her friend is gone to New York for the day. There are apparently no taxis in the area, after calling several companies. We decide to hitchike to to Alagansett. It takes 20minutes to hitch a ride with a lady who only speaks Spanish. 

We get to Stephen Talkhouse and Bernie's car awaits us. We make the extra distance to pick up my bike. We pick up her daughter Catriona but fail to locate Claire. We pick up some sambos and vitamin drinks and hit the beach. I enjoy another Reuben sambo. We return to Bernie's caravan where she has to get ready for work, I'm back in my boxers and having a nap. It's difficult to leave the Hamptons during rush hour so I wait til 6pm to leave for NYC which was neiher a good or bad idea, I could have drank less and left much much earlier in the day. 


I only now contact my beautiful friend, Michelle. I met her in Zambia earlier this year and we hit it off dancing to Van Morrison in a big empty bar in Livingstone near Victoria Falls. The same night, Michelle also happened to meet Peter who I stayed with in Boulder, CO. so the world continues to get smaller. Michelle is a local New Yorker, born and bread and she seems to know the area like a New Yorker would. She is located in China Town/Little Italy and so is my bed. She works in design and fashion, she's quirky, insane, hilarious. Her apartment interior is white and shiny, like a new Macbook, there's a cool fancy walk in digital shower and otherwise it's pretty simplistic design. It's a tidy apartment but so is she.

Before getting to New York, I ride into a sunset acting as a backdrop to Manhatten's skyline. I knew I was New York because I could clearly see the Empire State Building in all it's sunsetty glory. It was really pretty and even more so because I'm aware of this being my penultimate ride. Very frequently I would gasp or 'awww' audibly, more so than I would if I were in a car with company. I look for parking to view the Highline (elevated gardens) but it's tricky getting around, I accidentally leave Manhatten and end up on one of the many bridges leaving the city. I see a petrol station on the otherside and complete an illegal U-turn in front of some cops in order to get more gas, and back into Manhatten. The cops do not see the U-turn.  I find Michelles place closer to 10pm at she greats me at the door with a huge embrace. Her street is lined with Italian restaurants mostly.

I inform her that my number one priority is food and that we have to go straight back out so she kindly brings me somewhere, quick, easy, healthy and tasty. It's a cool but busy restaurant/bar called Barrio Chino in the Lower East Side. We both get some form of healthy salad and I guess it is Asian style cuisine although Michelle questioned it's authenticity, I guess it has a modern twist. We go to a second bar and enjoy a local beers, we retire early as I'm still feeling rough and after many late one's I get an early night sleep. In my diminishing health I will manage to sleep most of the next day. 

I do lie in, almost paralyzed. I feel generally weak and given the two beers I had, a healthy light evening meal, there was no real reason for me to feel shit. When I drag myself up, we take the subway to the famous Papaya King Hot Dog. It's apparently the best in New York and I'd well believe it. I actually had less than 24 hours in New York but I guess eating a hotdog is a must while you are there, and yes, it was much much nicer than a 7/11 dog.

I actually need to get back to bed. I had planned on leaving that day but I'm still trying to figure out my malaise. Michelle does work from home and while I sleep, she so kindly tops up the meter on my bike parking every two hours. She comes upon the ticket warden who was present the minute my ticket expired. He had started to issue the ticket so had to proceed with it. Michelle worked her magic (possible flirting involved) and says she is going to sort it all out for me, she claims it is easy to have quashed.

Lessons;
It's not THAT hard to drive in Manhatten.

Day Twenty - Nine : Philadelphia, PA - East Hampton, NY

PLEASE SEE WWW.ASIAANDBACK.COM FOR CURRENT ADVENTURES

Today I'm excited to see another old friend of mine, Bernie O'Brien who spent two years living above up until last Christmas. Actually it's not fair to say she is an old friend, I'll just say she's young at heart.

I leave Philly early and survive the day with just another 7/11 hotdog which I cherish so much at this stage; dill pickle, mustard and ketchup. I love a 7/11 hotdog, YUM!! I forgot to mention that these tasty snacks cost $1, I hit a red traffic light every 100 yards as I will find out later I have taken the worst of three possible roads out to the Hamptons which is at the far end of Long Island. It takes hours to get out there and I catch Bernie just before she goes to work. We decide I will unload the bike and follow her out to her place of work. I've already informed her I can only spend one night so I need to make the most of our time.


When we reach Surfside Restaurant where Bernie works, we have a quick catch up on life and reminisce on the nonsense as she boasts about our friendship to her colleagues. She has often told people publicly that I'm her toy boy. In kind, I have embarrassed her publicly by telling people she's my granny. In Aldi some years ago, I was shopping with Bernie when I picked up a packet of naan bread and shouted across the shop, 'Here Nan, they've named this bread after you!'.

As it is early hours and much too early for me to eat, she goes about her work and I take the bike through the village of Montauk and out to the very tip of Long Island which is marked by Montauk Lighthouse. I sit and rest and soak up the Atlantic, not literally. After 5 weeks on the road I am finally at the other coast. I'm proud of my California licence plates and my Irish flag hanging on the back. I lie on a rock and try to calm my mind as Russel Simmons had advised the morning I left Los Angeles. The sea smells great, there is the sound of gulls swarming a section of the sea
30 yards from the beach, dipping down to the surface of the water trying to get their fish on. I lie on the rock and the fresh air is subtly accompanied by the feint smell of cigar in the distance. I sit up and see a fisherman wading into the ocean, he is a distance of about 70 yards away, knee deep in Atlantic. The wind is strong but the smell of his cigar in it's faintness, is very much welcomed.

I return to Montauk and watch the second half of the now famous Germany vs Brazil match of the World Cup in which Germany knocks Brazil out with with a final score of  7-1. I will watch the final of the world cup in Rhode Island This is possibly the second game I've seen of the whole world cup. I take my time having had a beer (and driving) and head back to Bernie's place of work.

It is a really nice restaurant on the Old Montauk highway overlooking the sea. The theme of the establishment is all blue and white and a typical seaside restaurant in a pleasant and classy way. Bernie introduces me to her work mates, most importantly the bar man. I park myself at the bar and it's like we all know each other, the couple beside me and the barman. We instantly start telling each other jokes and the couple in particular take huge interest in my ride across America. The general area of New York state is well-to-do and the couple kindly buy me a beer as a kind of congratulations, I am most definitely celebrating. Even in Ireland Bernie and I had never drank properly together. At this stage, the bike is staying parked for the night as the owners have kindly let me park up beside a dumpster out back. I treat myself to a huge plate of ribs which feeds me for dinner and breakfast, fantastic.

Bernie and I finish up with a round of drinks at the bar in Surfside as the staff tallies up. I am kindly charged for ONE of my MANY beers I drank during my few hours there taunting Bernie as she went about her work. Bernie is still under the limit so she drives us to Amagansett to Stephen Talkhouse, she claims it is famous. As we near the door I hear some whopper reggae beats. We are stamped in and I start to marvel at the photographs plastered around the walls of artists who had played there. The likes of Paul McCartney, Billy Joel, Jimmy Buffett, Paul Simon, Sting to mention but a few have all played in this tiny bar. The crowd is young. Bernie is easily the oldest person in the room, and I might be the second oldest but the music is amazing and the talent (judgmental physical attractiveness of a crowd) as we call it in Ireland, is mighty! The toilets are plastered with beautiful nudes printed in black and white.

Stephen Talkhouse the man, was a Montaukett Native American whom the bar is named after (obviously!).

We get a taxi back to Bernie's humble abode which is a caravan out the back of her friends house. It is connected to the mains and there's a shower in the house so I am really well looked after and everything you need is there, including a nice clean pool which I don't use. As drunk as skunks we fall around laughing and taking the piss out of each other. Bernie and I have always had good laughs together no matter how tough times have been. Bernie and I have a fantastic and unique friendship. She is like a mum and a friend to me. It has been just lovely catching up with her. Tomorrow, the Big Apple!!!

Day Twenty-Seven and Twenty-Eight : Washington, D.C. - Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

PLEASE SEE WWW.ASIAANDBACK.COM FOR CURRENT ADVENTURES

Here I come......It's Always Sunny.....Streets of.......

The next day I head to Philadelphia, in doing so I decide to skip Baltimore. I've lost track of the states I'm passing through and no longer taking pictures of the 'Welcome' signs. I pretty much stopped after Oklahoma. I remember the Kentucky sign was on huge interstate and there was no way to photograph it so after missing one state I figured there was no point. The ride was actually another nice one. Americans seem to hate the corn fields because they are so frequent and you can drive through a whole state and see nothing but corn. As Irish Europeans, we are not used to them as much in that bulk. I love riding passed endless fields of corn, harvested or still standing proud and yellow. Just as I near the city I experience another near accident on the interstate. I'm trying to navigate the roadworks being carried out in the suburbs of Philly and I'm not racing to get there as I have made good time today but nevertheless out of nowhere I get a sharp stinging pain on my left arm, very localized pain, like a needle, like the sting of a bee. I felt a second sting an inch away two seconds later while I was reacting to the first. I can only imagine what it looked like for the car behind me as I started flapping my left arm erratically while maintaining completely normal behavior with my throttle arm. I managed to unzip and open my jacket followed by more flapping as a struggled to break loose from the stinging sleeve. I then take the next slip road wearing just on arm of my jacket the rest flapping behind me. I pull into the shoulder and as the car passes it gives me a friendly honk acknowledging my comical performance.

I check into Apple Hostel which is really nice and there's motorbike parking right around the corner; it's also movie and free beer night. I wanted to go to the bar where 'It's Always Sunny' is filmed so I head down to Paddy's Pub in old town where I meet a sound biker couple. I chatted to a local about the best Philly steak sandwich and then some random dude at the end of the bar buys a whole round for everyone in the bar, which was about 7 people at this time of the evening. It started out as a pleasant evening. The biker dude brings me outside to smoke a one-hitter which was delicious, his girlfriend had grown the grass. His Harley 1700 was sitting outside the bar. I tried to lift it, with great effort, it was a good few hundred kilos and the clutch was like a grip-excerciser in itself. I went to another bar called Mac's Tavern which served amazing craft beer with really intelligent barmen, they knew every detail of every beer and were excellent guides on beer selection. Mac's Tavern is owned by  Rob McElhenney & Kaitlin Olsen of 'It's Always Sunny'.

The beautiful couple, Shannon and Mitchell

In this bar I meet a young couple called Shannon and Mitchell. I ask if I can put my beer down on their table outside so I can light my cigarette. I had full intentions of talking to these guys little to their knowledge. 10 minutes previously I had watched them come into the bar and ask the barman detailed questions about their collection of beers. I practically followed them out to the front of the bar (smoking area). They are both ace travelers and abundant of life and interest and we were all just pretty similar in a way, they are two of my favourite people I will meet during my trip and they have since reminded me on a few occasions that I was one of their favourite people to meet. Young beer connoisseurs. We hang out for the evening and drink heavily together, but we drink quality beers, they both have huge knowledge of beer and food (particularly Mitchell). We eat vegan pulled-pork burgers together which were absolutely amazing (I believe it was well after midnight and this tiny little bar did amazing beer and food). We continue just drinking quality craft beers in a few off the map bars. I believe the bar we ended in had a menu of over 400 beers and was just across from our hostel? Mitchell could correct me on that. 

From the fire escape

We ended the evening on the fire escape smoking a vaporizer packed with cannabis wax, delicious. I've never really smoked oils and such and nothing through a vaporizer like this. It was mild but flavorsome. Weeks later Shannon and Mitchell will recall this to me as one of their favourite nights. I don't remember exactly what we talked about but it was mutual. Actually, Mitchell starts telling me about his granny who is an artist. Her name is JoAnn Harper and her art is highly textured with great depth. Her paintings are fun, colourful. It seems she has no real interest in monetizing her art but with a quick google search you can find some of her pieces. Mitchell and Shannon already know but I insist that the world should be allowed to see this woman's art. 

I wonder downstairs to get some fluids when I bump into the two of them again. They had intended on leaving early to go to the Secret Garden and we had arranged to meet after. As it turned out they hadn't left yet so I tagged along. We all go for replenishing fruit juices with bee resin when we discover the Secret Garden doesn't open for another 20 minutes. Being in that smoothie shop we behaved like Harold and Kumar discovering White Castle. 

I assume the smoothie helped but we all remained a little hungover nonetheless. We visited the Secret Garden created by Isaiah Zagar. It is a wonderland of upcycled beauty. Bottles, bicycles, tiles, statues, carvings, a toilet and all things of curious interest. We then eat a delicious vegan pizza together and then visit the Liberty Bell, not sure about it's history but I know it's important. I've already decided I am not moving ship just yet, I had mentioned this to the hostel staff on the way out. Shannon and Mitchell have to grab a bus to NYC so we say our goodbyes reluctantly and wish each other well. It was a sad moment leaving these guys but as it turns out I plan to be in NYC in two days and we had agreed to meet up but things just didn't pan out like that. Once we split, I head over to East State Penitentiary, former 'residence' of Al Pacino. I don't know why, but taking the bike through the city is still novelty. Getting from town to town, or city to city is great, the whole journey is great, but when you have based yourself somewhere for a few days, you still have the flexibility and mobility to do what you like. I have limited time and so much to see, a motorbike is a great way to see a country or a city. 

Prior to saying our goodbyes Mitchell asks me if he can give me a Pokemon card.... I remember the days of "have, have, have, need, need, have, have, need, need, have, have, have, have' as kids in the playground traded their Pokemon cards or Pogs or whatever it was at the time. I never really collected Pokemon myself. It was all besides the point. Mitchell explained that he had been giving these Pokemon cards to people that had made an impact on his travels. I couldn't imagine how much thought could go into such a simple gift. I was a little taken aback by this warm and humble gesture. This is one of many reasons why I loved these guys. This was their nature in a way. Mitchell carefully selected three cards of which I had a choice. He thought I had strengths that were well reflected in the cards he had chosen. I chose Dark Charmeleon which Mitchell explains will go through some great change (I think it evolves into another stronger Pokemon). I'm lost on the story of Pokemon but it meant a huge deal to me. The Dark Charmeleon card stays with me now tucked in behind my phone. 

The prison is eerie but fascinating. I really enjoyed my three hours in here, not enough time I could have spent 6 hours here. The prison contained all sorts of interesting history but having closed in the 70s and with very little repair since, the place is just a bit creepy. I spend this second night watching Wolf of Wall Street in the hostel, there is a second free beer night but I'm not drinking because apparently the beer is like a poor quality PBR (PBR is not a nice beer to star with as any Americans reading this now will understand), I want to leave early the next day and I've had my share of beer, I'm almost sick of it. It has been a very boozy vacation.

East State Penn. Operating Theatre

My friend Bernie is due in at work at 4pm and she lives in East Hampton (200 miles away) so a morning start is essential in order for me to see her before work.

Lessons:

It really and truly is, the thought that counts. Mitchell could have given me literally anything, a bottle-cap, a box of matches or an antique Faberge egg; if it meant something to him, it meant something to me.

Day Twenty-Five and Twenty-Six : Lexington, VA - Washington, District of Columbia

Make love not war......

Another one of my goals (which only came about as a matter of coincidence) was to reach Washington, D.C. for July 4th (things roughly seemed like I was going end up in DC for July 4th so I decided to time it so). The Nations Capital! I gladly leave Lexingon, VA and it's mostly interstate to DC. I'm really excited about the day. I guess it is contagious excitement. There are American flags everywhere. In every little village you drive through, nearly every building has a flag. In hindsight, I think I build myself up a little but to much for the day that was in it but it was relatively enjoyable all the same.

On the way to DC, I stop in a 7/11 for a lunchtime hotdog, because it's American. I take Interstate 66 into the city (this is not to be mistaken for Route 66 but it is still cool). I leave the bike somewhere under the noses of the many police and I walk the whole 'mall' as I learn it is called. The mall is a huge area and is the site of Capitol Building, Martin Luther King Memorial, Washington monument, Lincoln memorial and memorials the Korean war and Vietnamese vets.


More photos of Brodericks mango and papaya bar were a must beside the Washington monument, by the White House and Lincolm Memorial Reflecting Pool. The main reason I spent two days here in DC was purely because the volume of people made it difficult to do anything worthwhile in the city. Everywhere was choc-a-bloc. The crowds were a bit of a nightmare but the atmosphere was really great. I wore a stupid cowboy hat, my American dickie-bow and my favourite 'Miquel Jacksano' t-shirt. I would have sacrificed a night here for an extra night in New York as you will see I only get to spend one night there.

There's a free bbq on the roof of the hostel I'm staying at so I tag along, actually I end up buying ingredients for the hosts (staff) despite them being really rude to me. Fun but not amazing. I meet an Irish lady called Mary, she's in her 60's and has spent the last 6+ months travelling around the world, I feel her pain as I near the end of my trip, she too only has a number of days left before she has to go home to live off her pension. She had no plan whatsoever for when she got home. I am sad I never got her details now I only left her my details and details for Nyaminyami Art, a project I have with two friends with whom we import stone sculptures from Zimbabwe for exhibition and sale in Ireland. She was quite interested in the company but I'm yet to hear from her. The actual night of July 4th I saw the fireworks rise up behind the Washington Monument, it was really momentous but quite difficult to photograph. I was hanging out with a crazy Australian, two Germans and a French dude, I didn't know any of their names and although many photos were taken I still don't know who they were. We all end up going out to Adams Morgan which is an area for clubs and pubs (picture Camden Street area).

Lunch with the Obamas

We take the underground metro there, where I convince a huge number of locals in my subway car that I had lunch with the Obama family earlier that day. I did not think this would go down as smoothly as planned but within a minute or two, most people at my end of the car were listening to my bullshit. I am a little drunk, wearing a silly t-shirt, a flashing American dickybow, a straw cowboy hat and still sporting all my keys and bandannas hanging from my caribiners. I have a poor quality image of myself photo-shopped into an image behind the Obama family. I had previously asked Kate who is a photography genius (I mean a professional photographer) to prepare a good image for me with the President. She said it wasn't easy so she made this ridiculous looking one. It is with this I convince the locals of Washington that I truly have met the president on this great day July 4th. 

I nonchalantly tell them that the two 'kids' were cool; 'Yea the daughters were there, nice kids, Sasha and Dasha, ate all their vegetables'I said,  as one subway rider angrily tells me that Sasha and Dasha are not the names of the Obama daughters; "They sound more like raindeer" another responds. I was told by the well informed locals that Barack's (or Barry as I was calling him) daughter's were called Malia and Sasha. I referenced the President in a speech he made on Dame Street in Ireland last year and I insisted to these commuters that President Obama's heritage is mostly Irish and that his family name originally would have been O'Bama. As they had questioned how I had pulled this off I explained it was through a 'friend-of-a-friend' who managed to get me in for lunch with the President in the White House. They are amazed by the awful photo. Naturally I didn't hand my phone over to anyone and just let them see the image briefly. They are amazed as I am as care-free as possible being completely blase about the whole ordeal. One guy asked, 'Do you KNOW how much of a PRIVILEGE it is to have lunch with the President of America on JULY 4TH!!??' to which I responded, 'Yea, cool guy, sound'. The other subway riders seemed 40% angry, 60% jealous. Hilarious.

We hit some stylish bars in Adam's Morgan area and I'm chatting up some beautiful women, I'm just on the ball (in good form), possibly have that perfect balance of intoxication. We get an Uber taxi back to the hostel, an Escalade! The next day I moved to a different hostel in the city (HI Hostel, Washington) where people (staff) were much much nicer. I won't go into the details of Capito View Hostel and the staff there but I just wouldn't recommend it. I thought about writing a bad review for the hostel, I was at a moral crossroads. I don't want to harm a business, especially a hostel, but I also don't want people feeling like shit when they arrive there, so I brought my issues up with a member of staff.

I ride to Arlington Cemetery while I wait for my room to be made available in the HI Hostel. Arlington Cemetery will be the last place I am truly stricken with tear-jerking emotion whilst on this trip. I saw J.F.K's grave site which is surrounded by thousands more graves from all the wars in which America had partook. I was surrounded by the resting place of 400,000 people, most of whom had died by war, by the hand of man. It was tragic. The words, 'This is war' repeated themselves in my head over and over and over again. Everywhere I looked I saw little white gravestone with numbers and crucifixes etched into them. The place is very well maintained, grass is immaculate, the gardens are clean, paths clear and a convenient but overpriced carpark. I attended changing of the guards at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, an honorable sentiment. I didn't really have much reason to cry. I have as much reason to turn on the news everyday and cry, current warfare is difficult to avoid if you own a tv or have access to the internet but this doesn't upset me so much on a daily occurrence. I don't know why Arlington and historic wars had me so upset. Was it that we don't learn from our mistakes? Was it the vast amount of remains that lay near and around me? Was it just my own thoughts on death? If warfare was a book, then Arlington cemetery would be the final chapter. I rode passed hundreds of veteran cemeteries between California and DC, as in, every little town pretty much had a vet cemetery. This is always the end result. I could go on, but this is war. I think of that common oxymoron most are familiar with, 'fighting for peace'. 

On returning to the city, I got my photo taken at a fake presidential podium and a makeshift Oval office. I went to another microbrewery on my own that evening, followed by the Hamilton hotel in the city center. Before going, I sat discussing the city with a guy at the bar beside me. I'm googling the area and I just want a bit of music. They had music in 'The Loft' of the Hamilton where I treated myself to some nice Trappist beer in that traditional stemmed beer glass. I sat at a table on my own just off-'stage'. This kick-ass band featured a female lead vocalist and the rest of the band were all killing it. The bassist was captivating. I sat for a few hours jamming away to myself in my own world enjoying my beer followed by a huge balloni sandwich. Again, I had my bike jeans on with caribiners, with keys attached to one, and 2 bandannas attached to the other, I was wearing a risque t-shirt and I was also sporting my new mohawk, courtesy of Killian and Kate. I was possibly under-dressed for the other clientele but I was just chilling nicely by myself as I saw the eyes of misjudgment. Not to blow my own trumpet but the band summoned me over as was leaving and the bassist said he 'liked my style'. All I did was drink beer and eat a sandwich and enjoyed the music with some mild head swaying and toe tapping.

Lessons:
War is completely fucked up, the only result of war is pain, suffering and death. 
There are people in America wearing 'ALL TIME WORLD WAR CHAMPIONS' merchandise! I'm sorry, but fuck these people too.

Like a boss.....

Day Twenty-Four : Lexington, Kentucky - Lexington, Virginia

I thought it would be funny to ride from Lexington, Kentucky to Lexington, Virginia, it wasn't (358miles). It was another challenge as days go.

It was nice to get back on the road I will gladly admot. As much as I love those guys in Lexington, I had a great week but really had to make up some ground. Not just that, but I missed being on the bike. Some days it would be tough going and I couldn't wait to get my arse of the bike but the next morning I'd always want to get back on. I had originaally allocated 4-5 days to stay in Lexington, KY but considering I had allowed myself so much buffer time I had time to fart around for the full week. In hindsight, I would have gone to DC a day early and squeezed an extra day into New York but anyway........

This was the only other day of my holiday when I had real rain. It was heavy enough and constant but pretty tolerable and only came about towards the end of the day. I just kept my head down and pushing through. It would have been easier on the interstates but I'm back on country highways and it's really quite pretty again. It did get a little tougher as the sun dropped and my headlights took over in guiding me to my next shelter for the night. Drizzle, dark and millions of little midges for miles and miles and miles. Riding through a cloud of midges is like......hmmm  analogy.........it's like someone sharting on the visor of your helmet  A spray of dark mushy organic particles hitting your (protected) face at 70 mph.  I made it up to Lexington, VA late and spent $88 staying in a Holiday Inn despite arguing with the manager for 20 minutes whilst calling every other hotel in town. This will certainly be the most I will pay for a bed my whole trip.

I ust add that riding through West Virginia was quite pleasant. I ride what's called the Midland Trail and it runs parralel with 'New River'. Midland Trail is a scenic byway (manu of the highways I've referred to have been byways (I still don't know the difference)). Accordingly, it passes through some of the roughest terrains of the Mountain State and it is believe the trail was carved out of the mountain side by the Native Americans and buffalo.

Killian and Kate had kindly shaved a mohawk into my hair the day before I leave. The next morning when sober, I still like it actually, as does Killian and Kate, so they tidy it up and I keep my mohawk for the rest of the trip. Between Lexington, KY and Lexing\ton, VA (358 miles) I got contact details for two waitresses (different diners) and a girl at a petrol station. Only one of these numbers I actually ask for so I'm feeling pretty good now. It is pretty pointless because I am driving straight through their towns. I mean when's the next time I'm going to be in Charleston, Virginia? I'm pretty sure it was all in the mohawk. I AM SAMSON!

Lexington was interesting, a university town but I had landed smack in the middle of summer. For the size of the town, it was scarily empty. It would be like going to Kilkenny city but only seeing 50 people while you are there. The town is dead. I went for a late night cruise and found one regular bar, one wine bar, and one restaurant was open. I opted for the regular bar. 

I overtook a car that had stopped on the side of the road in this town/village. The roads are completely empty so there is plenty of space to go around them and all is cool. Then I noticed their Irish flag bumper sticker. This momentarily lifted the spirits after such a non-day. Noticing their windows were rolled down, I slowed up beside them and complimented their flag shouting 'Nice flag guys!' as I passed them. I was hoping they would see my flag flapping on the on my bike like a little patriotic cape, but instead, having assumed I had shouted something offensive, they followed me in their car to the pub where I was going.  6 of them came into the bar and asked what I had said in a very confrontational manner, some of these guys were huge, they were accompanied y 3 or 4 girls. In a probably exaggerated Irish accent I explain I was simply complimenting their bumper sticker of the tri-colour. After a barrel of laughs from the simple misunderstanding, we end up enjoying some beers together which they pay for. As it turned out one of the guys had been in Ireland only two weeks previously and he had pretty much gone everywhere and seen everything he could have whilst in the country. I has really happy to hear his love for Ireland and he was really excited about his recent vacation. He really enjoyed his time which is always refreshing to hear. I have already at this stage promised I would see more of my own country when I return.

Lessons;

A shouted compliment just sounds like irratic shouting when one is on a motorcycle riding passed

Word of the day ; Shun-piking The avoidance of major highways and interstates particlarily those with turn-pikes / toll booths.