Head downtown with a handful of others in a stretch limousine organised by the hostel. (I can’t help thinking what a wonderful surf bus it would make. There is no need for a roof rack even with longboards; however the lanes of Cornwall, North Wales and Devon might pose an issue for its turning circle.) Seats are far too comfy for me and I am struggling to stay awake by the time we arrive at club called Kiss and Fly. Think we have been sold duff tickets because the club is empty when we get inside, but happy to enjoy the free bubbly supplied with our tickets. Before I realise it the place is packed with well-heeled clientele and the DJ is throwing out some banging tunes. There I realise how well-heeled it is when I have to buy a drink and see that the first item on offer from the menu is a bottle of Bubbly for $3,000! Decide to boogie the night away with Marta, Angelica and Guillermo who I met at the hostel. Having a great night and thinking it can’t get much better when the management roll out 20 models in skimpy lingerie who take station on the podiums and along the bar. All of a sudden the blokes in the club seem distracted. I wonder why?
I’m quite pissed by the time we leave and enjoy a slice of pizza on the way home. Get stalked by rats on the subway that want some of my pizza for themselves, which is a bit unnerving. Crash out at 2.30 only to be woken at 5.03 by Rip Van Winkle who has been woken up by my alarm going for so long without having any effect on my inebriated state. Grab my gear, get out quickly and hail a cab to station where I fall asleep as soon as I sit down on the train to Washington.
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