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

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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!!!