My good buddy Chris gave me a lift to the airport early on the morning of the 26th. I remember telling him that the flight was a long one and, as you know, I'm a bad flyer. I got on the plane and waited patiently for the weirdo that was about to sit next to me. If I ever travel by public transport, some bloody nutter always comes and sits next to me.

Imagine my surprise then when this drop dead gorgeous girl parks herself in the chair next to mine!. At first I thought I must be sitting in the wrong seat, but sure enough, we were both were we were supposed to be. Holly and I struck a conversation almost immediately and I found that she was an art student from Oxford and a lodda fun. We laughed and giggled for most of the seven-hour plane flight. Except that is when she tried to get some sleep (for about ten minutes).

I was sad to see her leave at the airport. We both had pretty heavy schedules for the next week or so and we didn't meet up which was a great shame, because she is lovely and the pictures really don't do her justice.

I met up with Jamie at the airport and we went straight to a bar (Jamie is such a cool geezer!). Then we got to his place and I unpacked and relaxed for a while. Next day we went to the beech. Jamie lives on Long Island and the beaches there are terrific! Miles of white sand and surf and lots of interesting people. It was HOT! Around 90 degrees (the Americans don't generally use Centigrade). Later that night I met up with Jamie's girlfriend, Freda. She is just as much fun as Jamie and the three of us stayed back that night and drank beers on the veranda.

I was feeling pretty relaxed and Jamie suggested a trip to see the New York Yankees. We travelled off to the Bronx and parked ourselves in a great sports bar called 'Stans'. It is situated opposite the stadium and is air conditioned and full of baseball paraphernalia. The beer was cool and the company was lively and the game was going very badly!  Jamie was keen not to pay 40 dollars to see the Yankees loose.  In the end, his judgement was sound. A geezer came in and said, 'the sun's beating me up, the Yankees are loosing, and the beer is a dollar more expensive! - I'll go to Stans!"

Later we went to the Greek quarter (Freda was born in Greece and knows the lingo). We had a great meal at a superb restaurant and I was starting to get a bit tipsy after all the beer at Stans. We went to a couple more bars which were great, but I can't remember the names, then went home and watched an episode of Southpark in which one of the characters was a prostitute with herpes called Freda.

The next few days were spent either at the beach or travelling around Manhattan. I bought some hoopy stuff for some friends, a great poster of my favourite movie (Clockwork Orange) and had an awful Chinese meal. We also drove though Harlem. I always imagined it to be a run down and depressing part of town. It wasn't at all, it was quite pleasant, but there were no white people anywhere to be seen.

One of the bars we stopped at was called Cannons Pub. It was one of the locations used when shooting the film Trading Places. The barman, Michael, was Irish and cracked a few jokes as only the Irish can.

Towards the end of the trip we managed to see a Yankees Game. It was great! I don't know much about baseball (or I didn't then - but I do have the of Field of Dreams video). We sat down in the colossal Yankee stadium and I mischievously kept asking questions such as, "why does the bowler stand on a big pile of mud?" and, "why are all those men running round in circles?" Jamie just ignored me, he did however point out that the game was exciting in that the pitcher (bowler) nearly had a 'perfect game' (which is when he bowls every one out for a duck or erm... stops the batters from getting to first base... or something like that). It's only ever happened a few times this century.

Next day I made my final trip to the beach. To be honest, I was getting a little sick of the beech. Everywhere I looked there were shapely looking females in a state of near undress, prostrating themselves all around. I mean, you just couldn't have a decent conversation without some girl nearby taking her clothes off or rubbing suntan oil onto her scantily clad, tanned body.. erm....

I needed to go for a swim. Trouble was, the waves were vicious - I mean REALLY vicious! I thought I'd try a little bit of body surfing, but we just don't get waves like that in England. You could be ankle deep in water when suddenly you'd be staring up at an 8-foot wave.

The girl in the picture had the right idea, I just looked up and went "ewer!" I then made the mistake of putting my arms up and trying to jump over it.

The geezer in the foreground was saying to his kids, "Look at that stupid Englishman!"   The wave knocked me back about twenty feet and managed, magically, to fill my swimming trunks with sand.

I decided to get out and waddled back to the beech looking like a half naked war veteran wearing a collostomy bag!

My last night was spent with some of Jamie's very pleasant friends and family. We had a barberque in the back garden. Holly telephoned me, which was nice.  Later I stayed up all night watching the latest news about the plane that took off from New York and crashed in Canada killing all the passengers. My flight would be a few hours later; I didn't get much sleep!

I was flying back to London to spend a couple of days with my cousin Richard. I was sad to say goodbye to Jamie at the airport. The holiday had been exactly what I'd needed. I would miss the warmth of the weather and the friendliness of the people.