People

People, people who need people

People

My overnight flight to Rio was delayed by a couple of hours and by the time I had arrived, cleared Brazilian immigration (they didn’t ask for details of when I planned to leave the country), collected my suitcase and cleared customs it was early afternoon. I got a taxi to the hotel and checked in. The hotel was nothing special but it was clean, had a comfortable double bed and a decent sized bathroom. I knew that the lack of sleep would soon catch up with me so I headed out for a walk to get some air to keep me awake until a reasonable bedtime. I was conscious of the advice I had read about Rio so I took all the cards and most of the cash out of my wallet, locking it in the safe along with my passport and camera. I put some emergency cash under the insole of one of my trainers. One of my friends had told me to wear trainers rather than flip flops as it would be easier to run away should the need arise.

I walked across the street to Copacabana Beach to have a look at the sea, walking a couple of blocks along the seafront before heading in to find a supermarket where I could pick up a few things for dinner. I duly found one and bought myself some bread and cheese, an apple, a bottle of water and a few beers. It would be a humble first dinner in Rio in my room. After my dinner of a cheese sandwich and a beer as I watched a bit of TV, I was ready for an early night. The next morning I was up, showered and having breakfast before 8am. I decided I would go do some sightseeing. Armed with the map that the hotel had given me I made my way to the taxi rank right outside the hotel. There was a taxi waiting in the rank, the driver leant against the door smoking a cigarette.

I asked the driver, in Portuguese, if he spoke English. He didn’t. I had written down “I would like to go to…” in Portuguese on a piece of notepaper. I attempted to say it while making sure the paper was visible so he could read it too. I added “Cristo Redentor” to the end. He looked up at the sky and shook his head. I wasn’t quite sure what he meant by the gesture. He explained in Portuguese but I didn’t understand. Through a series of mimes I finally worked out that he was telling me that the clouds were coming in and that there would be no view from the top. A hasty plan B was put into action and he took me to the Botanical Gardens instead.

The gardens were stunning despite it being off-season for them. I could only imagine the colours that would be on display when everything was in bloom. It was virtually deserted too. I wandered around the whole place, getting a glimpse of Christ the Redeemer as the mist momentarily rolled away. I had taken my journal with me and I found a quiet spot to sit and bring that up to date. I hadn’t really looked back over the journal since I started my travels so I took the opportunity to read back through it. Reading through the journal it was difficult to comprehend just how much I had crammed into the first 3 months of my trip. It felt like it had flown by but gone so slowly at the same time. As well as the 20 gays I had stayed with so far I was struck by the number of other people who had helped me out on my trip. I grabbed the notepad I had jotted my Portuguese down on & started making a list of people who I would need to thank should 80 Gays ever get turned into a book. The list was quite long and I realised that the acknowledgements section of any book will be huge. Whilst sitting in that spot I jotted down a long list of names, tucking the pieces of notepaper into the journal for future reference. This is the list I came up with.

There were my 20 gay hosts (Greg, Ray, Simon, Sean & Keith, Bob, David, Renaud, Drew & Gray, Stephen, Eric & Jim, Rhett, David, Casey & Preston, George, Robby and Tim) without whom my trip would never have happened. There were also the people who had helped me find some of the 20 gays I had stayed with (Ruth & Matthew for Simon, David for Sean & Keith, Michael for Renaud, Andrew, Renee & Shawn for Drew & Gray, Simon for Jim & Eric, Greg and Rosie for Rhett, Tom and Chris for David, Bill, Sal and Miriam for Casey & Preston and Bob and Laura for Tim).  There were a couple of nearly hosts too. Shawn in Ottawa until he moved out of the city and Paul & Matt in Provincetown who would have put me up in their house had it not fallen down during the building work being done on it.

Craig in New York who made me get the journal in the first place, gave me tips on things to do in several US cities and kept checking up on me. Cary & Shawn in DC who gave me a great place to watch the DC Pride Parade from, smuggled me in to the bar when my UK driving licence wasn’t accepted and for providing a roof terrace with an amazing view of the city at night. Chris in Philadelphia who brought wine on my first night when the liquor stores in Pennsylvania were closed and who took me out for proper beer and fish and chips to remind me of home.

Robert in Chicago who spent his day off being a tour guide and who walked everywhere rather than making me get the subway. Daniel in Ottawa, my Inuit tour guide who made stuff up as he pointed out various landmarks and who made me the best tasting (and strongest) chocolate martini I have ever had. Andie in Long Island who got me told off by a little old lady for talking in the museum, who took me for tableside guacamole and who didn’t say the v word too much. Simon who came all the way over from London, who gave me an update on the gossip from back home, who belted out show tunes with me and brought the latest copies of Heat magazine with him.

Carlos who sent me to, and Angharad for chaperoned me in, one of the strangest gay bars I have ever been to in NYC. Mama T in Nashville who made it possible for me to arrange to see my sister and Mother while I am away travelling, who called me adopted son number 2, who jumped in the pool fully clothed and who got me hooked on Spot It! Chris in Memphis who organised my host, who organised my social calendar and who organised Alex to be my tour guide for the day. Mr & Mrs M and Tyler in Shepherdstown who extended an invitation for British to join the West Virginia gang for the weekend.

And of course, my sister and Mother for being so supportive, for loving me regardless, for telling me off for not being on Skype as often as I should and for pointing out the typos in my blog.

“People, people who need people” 
Lyrics from People from the musical Funny Girl

Learning to be silent

Noticing my hands start to shake, contemplating taking up smoking, learning to be silent

Noticing my hands start to shake

My final day in Miami and the final day of the first leg of my travels. Tim had the day off so he offered to act as tour guide again for the day. After breakfast and some strong coffee we got into the car and headed downtown. I asked Tim if we had enough gas to get wherever he was planning on taking me. He said that we would be fine. We spent most of the day down on the beach at Key Biscyane, a gorgeous little spot off the Miami coast. Having parked the car and stopped for a freshly squeezed orange juice we walked along the pale sandy beach. The beach was fairly quiet and even Tim took in the view in relative silence for a while. The water was nice and cool as we walked along the edge of the surf to find a spot down near the lighthouse at the end of the beach where we could sit for a while.

As we sat on the beach Tim asked me if I was excited about Rio. I said I was but that I was also getting a little nervous. It would be the first time that I was in a place where I would be totally alone, not knowing anyone in Rio. I also wouldn’t understand the language (my Portuguese was limited to “obrigado” and “você fala Inglês”) and the research I had done made it sound like it was a very dangerous and scary place to be. I had always known that the South American part of my trip would be a lot different to the rest of the trip. I didn’t have the contacts like I did in the US and Canada that had made finding local hosts an easy task so far. The sheer size of the countries also made it more challenging logistically. However, South America was somewhere I had always wanted to visit so I was determined to include it in the itinerary.

As evening approached we headed back to Tim’s so I could shower and change. We loaded my case into the car once again and went for a spot of dinner before I was due at the airport. Tim had some vouchers for Truluck’s, the other restaurant he worked at, so we went there. The food was amazing. I opted for sea bass with crab-fried rice (with a gin and tonic on the side). Tim went for a steak with mushrooms and a martini. He wouldn’t let me give him any money for the dinner. I thanked him for dinner, for putting me up and showing me around Miami. It was time for me to get to the airport.

Contemplating taking up smoking

Having said goodbye in the car, Tim telling me he was going to miss having someone to talk to, I walked into the terminal building. I had tried to check in online that morning but it hadn’t let me. I went up to the self-service machine but wasn’t able to check in using that either. I wondered if it was because I had booked a long time ago using my miles. I had booked the ticket back in February using some of the miles racked up from an awful project in Rome I had been stuck on at the end of 2010. The thousands of miles from the flights and hotel booking had been the only good thing about the project. The 8-hour flight to Rio had cost me the grand total of £1.80 in taxes. I made my way to the American Airlines desk to check in, explaining to the woman that I had not been able to check myself in.

She took my passport, tapped a few things into her computer and then told me that the reason I hadn’t been able to check in was because I had only booked a one-way ticket. I explained that I wasn’t going to be returning to Miami from Rio as I would be travelling around South America for a little while.

AA:      I need to be able to put in the details of your flight out of Rio into the system to check you in

Me:      I haven’t booked it yet. I am still organising my plans

AA:      Then I won’t be able to check you in

Me:      The entry requirements for Rio are that I can stay for up to 90 days without a visa provided I can show I have sufficient funds to look after myself. It didn’t say anything about having to provide details of your outbound flight

AA:      I can’t check you in unless you provide proof of your intention to leave Brazil within 90 days

Me:      I have a flight from Mexico City to Dallas booked for mid-October. Will that do?

AA:      No

Me:      I have my website that shows my plans to travel around South America. Will that do?

AA:      No

Me:      I even have business cards for my travel plans

AA:      [blank look]

Me:      How will the Brazilians know if I have a flight to leave Brazil?

AA:      They won’t sir but I can’t check you in unless I can put in details of your departure from Rio

Me:      So you could just make up my departure details and put those in?

AA:      No because if you get deported I will get fired

Learning to be silent

Seeing that the conversation was going nowhere and that she wasn’t going to take my word that I would be leaving Brazil well within my 90 days I was left with no choice but to find myself a wifi hotspot and book a flight. I looked at the prices for flights to a couple of places and booked a flight to Buenos Aires for the following week. I made my way back to the check in desks. The woman who I had had the conversation with previously was busy checking in another passenger so I went to a different woman. She asked me for my visa for Brazil. I explained I didn’t need one. She then asked to see the print-out for my onward travel from Brazil. I told her that I had only just booked it and could show her the email. She explained that she would check me in but that the Brazilians might not accept the email and that I could be deported from Brazil upon arrival. I said that I would take the risk, just wanting to get checked in for my flight.

Having finally checked in I cleared security and made my way to the gate to wait for the flight. I called Bob and chatted to him for a while. He was contemplating a trip to South America so I told him I would keep him posted on my travel plans in case there was a chance that they would coincide. He told me to be safe in Rio. I tried calling Robby too but got his answerphone so I left a message. I was aware I was rambling on like an idiot so I said goodbye and told him I hoped to see him when I got back to the States in October to do the west coast. I turned my phone off as I boarded the plane, taking a couple of deep breaths and telling myself that I would be fine.

“Noticing my hands start to shake, contemplating taking up smoking, learning to be silent” 
Lyrics from Learning to be Silent from the musical Footloose the Musical

Keep talkin'

Happy talk, keep talkin' happy talk

Happy talk

My next gay, Tim, sent me a text to say that he was on his way over to Fort Lauderdale a little earlier than planned. I was still in bed. I jumped up and headed for the shower. Tim had been a last minute Miami gay, courtesy of Bob texting a mutual friend of ours while we were at dinner in Atlanta, and her getting in touch with Tim. I didn’t know much about him other than the information he had shared in the emails we had subsequently exchanged. He worked at two restaurants, had two dogs and had arranged to be off work the day he picked me up so that he could show me round.

Tim arrived and we introduced ourselves. I checked out of the hotel, loaded my case into the car and we set off for Miami. It was already hot and humid despite only being 9am. Tim cranked up the air con, explaining that the car we were in belonged to his roommate (who was away) as his car didn’t have air con. I thanked him for making the switch, glad of the stream of cold air blowing at me. He said we would need to stop for gas at some point. As we drove towards Miami Tim asked me what I wanted to do and see once we got there. I said I was fairly relaxed about the itinerary but it would be nice to see the art deco buildings and the beach at some point. I also said that I would need coffee fairly soon so stopping somewhere for breakfast would be good. Tim talked the whole way to Miami. He seemed very hyper which at that time in the morning was a lot for me to handle, especially as I had yet to have my caffeine fix. We eventually called in to a lovely little Cuban place near Tim’s for a breakfast sandwich and coffee.

After settling in at Tim’s, meeting his two dogs, taking them for a walk and having a small nap we headed downtown. Tim said that we would have to call for gas very soon, just as the car started to shudder and grind to a halt. We pulled over to the side of the road. Tim tried a couple of times to get the car going again but it wouldn’t start. Tim apologised profusely. Luckily we had run out of gas by a nice looking bar that looked out onto the water so we headed in there to have a drink. As I finished my drink Tim headed off to the nearest gas station to get gas to get us going again. He returned a while later carrying a little plastic container of gas. In the meantime I had enjoyed a second drink and chatted to the woman who ran the bar. We were on our way again. Tim kept apologising, he was mortified. I told him not to worry, I could see the funny side of it.

Keep talkin'

We did a tour of the downtown area, Tim pointing out various landmarks and giving me a running commentary as we went. He was still hyper and I wondered where he got his energy from. After the tour we headed home for a bit of a rest before dinner. As I filled out my journal of what I had been up Tim was doing a few chores round the flat. He was talking to himself as he did it. I suspected he had ADHD which would make for an interesting weekend. After I showered and changed we headed down to the South Beach. We walked along the beach for a while taking in the lovely scenery. As we wandered along the sand Tim explained that for years he had worked in sales in the financial sector but a few years ago had decided the stress was not worth it. He had quit and taken a job working in a restaurant instead. He said he was much happier and could relate to me quitting my job to do something different for a while.

Tim showed me some of the nice buildings and hotels along the beach, giving me constant commentary, before we headed along to the Holocaust Memorial which scared me a little as it was rather gruesome. We also took in the most stunning sunset from the terrace of the Mondrian Hotel. We stood in silence (finally) for a while just watching the sun slowly set behind the buildings of downtown Miami just across the water. The sky turned from blue to orange and purple. It was very serene. After walking around a bit more we headed for dinner and then took a walk through the art deco buildings, all lit up with neon lights. Our walk took us past Palace Bar, the only gay bar on Ocean Drive. Tim asked if I wanted a drink but, surprisingly for me, I wasn’t really in the mood so we carried on walking for a while before heading home.

Happy talk

The next day Tim headed off to work. He was working all afternoon and evening. I got myself up and ready and spent the day having a wander round the local area. I wandered for a while and then found a nice spot on the beach to sit and watch the world go by. I also managed a bit of a snooze. The weather wasn’t great for sunbathing as a lot of cloud was building up as a result of Hurricane Irene making its way towards the Florida area. I wondered if it would affect my upcoming flight plans to Rio de Janeiro. The combination of doing very littleand the humidity of the day seemed to sap all my energy. I made my way slowly back to Tim’s in the evening via the local store, picking up some things for dinner and a bottle of wine. I cooked dinner for myself, enjoyed most of the bottle of wine and watched some TV, flicking between unfunny American comedy shows and the weather report to see the latest on Irene.

 

Tim was working Sunday too but he told me that I should head down to the Design District as it was a really nice place to have a walk around and it would also mean that I could go for brunch at Sra. Martinez, the place where he would be working. I took his advice, walking from his place. It was about 40 blocks which in the heat was a fair old walk. I was in need of rehydrating when I arrived at the restaurant so I ordered a mimosa with brunch. The food was amazing, my brunch consisting of poached eggs, local braised vegetables and toasted brioche. I also got some croquettes too. The brunch kept me going for the day. After brunch I took myself off for a walk around the design district

I had another fairly lazy evening during which I finished off the bottle of wine from the night before and packed my suitcase ready for leaving the following day. Hurricane Irene was getting closer to the Florida coast but the weather people kept revising where it would hit. I hoped that my big gay adventure wouldn't be ruined by this rather angry looking woman headed for Florida. 

“Happy talk, keep talkin' happy talk” 
Lyrics from Happy Talk from the musical South Pacific

Laughing at clouds

What a glorious feelin', I'm happy again, I'm laughing at clouds

What a glorious feelin'

The trip back from West Virginia via DC took pretty much the whole day, which meant I arrived back at the place I was staying in Fort Lauderdale around 11pm. I let myself in with the keys that had been left for me and crashed straight into bed. The following morning I woke up, finding myself spread diagonally across the large double bed, taking up all the space. I headed over to the main office, checked in properly and helped myself to some breakfast. I sat at one of the tables outside. It was still early and there was only one other couple up having breakfast. It was already warm and sunny.

My room had a little kitchenette so I decided I would go get some proper, healthy food and spend a few days trying to behave and give my body a chance to recover from the food and drink of the West Virginia weekend. I checked the location of the nearest supermarket. There was a Publix about a mile and a half away. That wouldn’t be too much of a walk in the heat. I set off, taking my backpack with me to make carrying my purchases back a little easier. Having filled my basket with fruit and salad, as well as one or two less healthy items, I made my way back to the hotel. It was starting to get very warm and by the time I got back my t-shirt under the backpack was soaked. There was only one thing to do – get straight into the swimming pool. The hotel had two pools. The one closest to my room was empty so I headed to the other one to see if there was anyone there. The pool was empty but there were three guys sunbathing. They all appeared to be on their own. I found a spare sun lounger, spread my towel out on it and got into the pool. In between dips in the pool I did some writing and internet surfing while lazing on the lounger. What did we do before wi-fi?? I had a fairly quiet evening, having dinner in my room and catching up with Robby. I settled down to watch a bit of tv and ended up viewing several episodes of The Nanny. It suddenly dawned on me why one of the guys from NOLA had kept calling me Mr Sheffield (I had told him my birthplace) in a high-pitched nasal voice.

The next morning I once again had breakfast outside. One of the guys who had been at the pool the day before came and sat at the table next to mine. He was with another guy who I hadn’t seen the previous day. As I ate my bagel I pondered who he could be, deciding he was either last night’s trade who had stayed over or the boyfriend who had spent the previous day out of sight for some reason. As I got up to go refill my coffee the mystery guy said “Hey”. I responded with a “Good morning”. We introduced ourselves and got chatting. It turned out that they were friends, Shane & Louis. Louis had missed his flight the day before and had not been able to get on another one for several hours meaning he arrived late last night.

I'm happy again

The day was another one of sunbathing, writing, swimming and chatting to my latest new friends. There were not many people around the pool so Shane set up his laptop and speakers so he could play some music while we swam. It was a good mix of tunes and once more I was asked if I knew Adele when she began rolling in the deep. As the afternoon wore on they asked if I had plans for the evening. I said that I didn’t. We made a plan to go for dinner and drinks in the gay bit of town. I went off to get showered and changed. We had dinner at a great Thai/sushi place called Galanga. As well as the great food I had a sake martini. After dinner we headed just across the road to Matty’s on the Drive where it was Wild Wednesday. On Wild Wednesday’s all the drinks are 75 cents. I had a gin and tonic. It was no Hendrick’s but I’ve drunk worse. And given the drink cost less than the $1 tip for the barman I wasn’t going to complain too much.

The place was fairly full, there were two rooms both with a bar. We did a bit of a fruit loop before settling in to some seats in the bigger and busier of the two rooms. A friend of Shane’s was there so he went to chat to him, Louis and I chatted about my travels and where I had been. We chatted a lot about Philadelphia, which was where he lived. I reeled off the places I had been to in Philly. He gave me some tips on things to see and places to go should I ever return. The music in the bar was good and everyone seemed to be having fun. Given the price of the drinks I was surprised I didn’t see more people in complete drunken states. There were a couple of obviously drunk guys but no more than you would normally see in any bar at that time of night. The drinkers spilled out onto the front parking lot too, mainly smokers. We stood out there for a while as Shane smoked. It gave me a good chance to check out the crowd. There was a mix of young & old, guys and girls. I guess the options for gay nightlife on a Wednesday were limited meaning everyone went to the same place. The evening was rounded off with a late night swim to cool down.

I'm laughing at clouds
The next day was more of the same – swimming, writing and sunbathing. S&L were off to the beach and asked me if I wanted to join them. It was already getting too hot for me and it was only mid morning so I declined the offer. The afternoon brought a brief but welcome thunderstorm that cooled the temperature a few degrees. After the rain had stopped I decided to go for an early evening swim. S&L were back from the beach and were having a drink beside the pool. They made me a drink too. There were a couple of other guys around the pool. Louis got stuck chatting to one young guy who was apparently in town from one of the flyover states to audition as a go-go boy for one of the bars. I’m not sure how well his audition went but having seen him in the pool in just trunks I wasn’t sure he would get very far.

S&L were discussing their evening plans, deciding whether they wanted to go out drinking and if so, which of the local gay bars they wanted to frequent. Again they asked me about my plans. I told them that I would be having a quiet night as I needed to pack as I was off to Miami early in the morning. They said in that case they would stay in and we could have a few drinks and Shane would grill. Having got a plan for the evening we headed to the Publix for some supplies. S&L spent most of the shopping trip arguing over what went into the trolley. It was the kind of bickering that you can only do with a good friend you have known for years. We eventually made it back with food and wine for the evening. Shane cooked, we chatted, drank wine and listened to some of my music for a while. I got to play the British playlist I had made in West Virginia for more than four songs.

The combination of food, wine and heat of the day made me very sleepy. I headed to bed without packing, setting an early alarm for myself so I could do it in the morning before Tim, my next gay, came to collect me.

“What a glorious feelin', I'm happy again, I'm laughing at clouds” 
Lyrics from Singin’ in the Rain from the musical Singin’ in the Rain

Fond farewell

It’s done little dream it’s done, so bid me a fond farewell, we both had our fun

It’s done little dream it’s done

The combination of hot showers, dry clothes and hard liquor perked everyone up from their post tubing lull. Tyler had arranged for a Mexican feast to be delivered for dinner which was good as everyone was hungry after the afternoon of exercise. Jess was busy in the kitchen making a peach cobbler for us all too. While we waited for the food to arrive Betty and I had a game of cornholes. At one point I was in the lead by a couple of points. I prayed for rain to stop play but the evening was lovely and sunny. I think he let me have the lead for a while because he suddenly seemed to be scoring loads of points each go and quickly wiped the floor with me.

Dining table a la Betty

There was time before the food arrived for Tyler to give a few of us a quick ride in the Gator to go see the grounds and go down to the river. John was about to jump into the front seat when MacReadie said he should get to ride up front, something about "those who act most like ladies" first. He got in to the passenger seat and John and I settled into the back. The tour of the grounds was great. We got to see a whole family of deer out grazing. They bounded off as we approached and made our way down to the banks of the river. The little zig zag track down was quite steep and muddy which was fine on the way down but a little scary on the way back up. On the return journey John and I braced ourselves, the steepness of the hill making us slide to the back of the Gator. I said I hoped that the back gate of the Gator was strong enough to hold our combined weight (me adding more than John to the combination). If it came open we would find ourselves sliding off the back of the Gator and all the way down the muddy track to the river. I asked Tyler to make sure MacReadie the Lady didn’t go pressing any of the buttons in case he accidentally found the gate release button.  Our Gator tour ended with Tyler parking up on the lawn & tipping the back up until John and I slid out onto the grass.

The West Virginia gays posing around the flip cup table

The food arrived and we settled round the outdoor dining table that had been spectacularly decorated by Betty with candles and two centrepieces made from flowers and foliage from around the house. The food was amazing and we demolished the majority of it fairly quickly. After dinner we drank, chatted and listened to music (my British playlist lasted about four songs before Robert changed it). After a while I noticed that I not seen (or to be more accurate, heard) Betty for a while and I wondered where he had got to. I asked Robby if Betty was ok. He said Betty was fine and that I should make sure I had my camera to hand as there was about to be a special treat for me.

So bid me a fond farewell

Miss My-end Ruined in the Gator

There was a noticeable break in the music. After a few seconds Rihanna started belting out S&M. Robby leant over to me and whispered “Get ready” into my ear. A tingle went down the back of my neck. At that moment a vision in black sequined material, platform heels, tights and a ginger wig came strutting in, dancing and singing along to the music. It was a vision to behold and the whole gang were laughing, clapping and cheering. I had no idea that Betty had an alter ego. I later found out that the ginger haired beauty was Miss My-end Ruined. She got her name from when Betty was in Cancun for gay week at Club Med and entered a costume contest with only 5 yards of sheer black fabric, a white beehive wig and yellow glow stick stuffed up inside the wig to work with. She referenced the Mayan Ruins nearby, hence her name. 

With the performance over, Miss My-End took a bow and removed her platform heels. As is inevitable with any group of gay men and a pair of UK size 10 heels, everyone had a go wearing them. It was my first time in big heels but I was determined not to be the only person to fall over wearing them. I did a couple of circuits, using the deck beside the pool as my runway. It felt strange finally being taller than Robby. I was completely dwarfed when he stood next to me wearing them. A couple of the gang kept them on a lot longer than was strictly necessary for just trying what they felt like. It looked like one person, who shall remain nameless was going to keep them on for the whole evening.

Betty takes the plunge

The cameras stayed out for the evening and there were some great photos capturing the best parts of an amazing evening. Betty/Miss My-end posing for photos in the back of the Gator, Betty jumping into the pool, Dimitri, MacReadie, Robert and Tyler spending an hour trying to get the perfect mid-air jumping photo and the whole gang posing around the flip cup table. There was more flip cup that evening, my skills improving vastly. I managed to flip my cup first time three games in a row. I was also taught how to shotgun a beer. For once I was pleased that American beer is a lot less alcoholic than the beer I am used to back home. It ended up being a very late night/early morning but it was such fun. At one point Tyler, damp from spilling his beer while shotgunning it, gave me a big hug, turned to Robby and said "Well done Robby, British is nice". Yes he was drunk but in vino veritas. I think I had been accepted into the gang.

By comparison, Sunday was a quiet day. Bill once again cooked breakfast although not everyone made it out of bed in time to eat it. We spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon lazing in the sun, swimming in the pool, playing cornholes and grazing on Mexican leftovers. Early afternoon Tyler’s parents, Mr & Mrs M came back home. They clearly knew most of the gang. Mr M even called Betty, Betty. I introduced myself and thanked them for letting me stay in their lovely home for the weekend.

Early afternoon saw Robert, Dimitri, MacReadie, Jess and Shelton load up the car and head back to the city. We waved them off and headed back to the house. For dinner we were grilling out. I had picked up enough of the local language in my travels to know that this meant a BBQ. Despite a massive thunderstorm passing through we were able to cook and sit outside for dinner. I sat next to Mr M and we chatted about my travels. He asked whether he could have his photo on the front cover when 80 Gays was made into a book. I said that I couldn’t promise him the front cover but he would certainly get a mention and photo somewhere in the book.

We both had our fun

Spot the gay with the mother who taught cheerleading squad

We all had a fairly early night as we would all be up early in the morning. I was going to be getting the train back to DC with Bill. Tyler, John, Betty and Robby were all driving back together as they were flying back to Atlanta but from Dulles airport. They had said that I could ride with them although I would then have to make it all the way into DC from the airport, which would be a nightmare. Mr M very kindly said he would give Bill and me a lift to the station in the morning for the train. We would be leaving the house at 6am. I said goodnight to the gang and thanked them for making me feel so welcome and part of the group. It had been a really great weekend and I was pleased I had taken up the last minute offer as it meant that I got to spend time with Robby, meet his friends and be British for the weekend. Spending the weekend with the gang also made me realise I was missing my own gang of friends from back home.

I was up at 5:30am the following morning, showered and dressed. I said goodbye to Robby. He was getting an extra half hour in bed before he had to be up for his ride back home. Bill and Mr M were in the kitchen when I got downstairs. There was a pot of coffee on and a to-go cup waiting for me. We loaded up the car and set off for Duffields. Despite the early hour there were plenty of people waiting for the train. We thanked Mr M for the lift and made our way to the platform. I snoozed for part of the journey, waking when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a lovely message from Robby that made me smile. I read the message a few times that day as I waited for my flight back down to Florida.

“It’s done little dream it’s done, so bid me a fond farewell, we both had our fun” 
Lyrics from Goodbye Little Dream, Goodbye from the musical Anything Goes