Breakfast in America

That's it. I have driven a car to the Hamptons, and back over the Triboro Bridge, through Central Park and into Manhattan. And found somewhere to park that was not next to a fire hydrant. And this is what I had for breakfast this morning.

I have gone native.

Next I'll be beeping my horn at everyone wherever I drive (and I'll buy a Hummer), I will also get a small dog that I will carry around in a small rucksack and will use the phrase 'quite good' to mean excellent (the phrase has a different meanings on either side of the Atlantic).

The Hamptons were fabulous. Stayed in Montuak, which is the most Easterly point and spent time exploring South/East/Bridge-Hampton. Ate breakfast on the balcony overlooking the coast, walked along fabulous sandy beaches (lost my iPod and had to retrace my steps), gawped through threadbare privet hedges at the mansions, went up the lighthouse and ate loads of seafood. All while gossping with the girls that I go on holiday with each year (all went to college together, which is an amazing number of years ago).