…is how my friend Adam would describe the raucous party that went on until the early hours in the motel room a tissue thin wall from mine. Not to mention the in car, in car park, entertainment demonstration and screaming outdoor rows, there I did, sorry.
Day 3 had started quietly enough with a Travelodge “Breakfast of Losers” and brightened up when housekeeping gave me a bottle of beer and some extra ‘coffee’ filter bags. I collected myself, wrote a post and secured Abe in an Uber to deliver myself to Annie Baileys, at Caleb’s suggestion. A large and largely civilised Irish bar and restaurant offering a “Full Irish Breakfast” which I took to include at least two pints of cool and delicious Guinness. It didn’t disappoint and the sunny courtyard bar allowed me the opportunity to digest.
I wandered through town and back up Columbia Av, not an easy feat as feet are not an expected mode of transport, to the accommodating Frogg bar where I sat at the bar for a couple of Founders IPAs before the noise of conversation drove me back to a secluded bench. I ceded my seat to a gent who had been standing, Mike was his name as when I returned for a refill (sadly not free like the diner coffee) he bought me a pint.
After a little work on the back story posts, I considered the logistics of getting to the cycle shop at 8am when it opened and headed back to the motel for an early night and, not knowingly, the hookers and blow.
In other news, Peter of https://motoborgotaro.com/ has recommended what looks to be and excellent Guzzi garage in Philadelphia a couple of hours away which opens on Tuesday. I’ll see how it goes at Paparo Cycle shop.
Le Mans man 