I was good at falling in love with straight boys.
I was 18 when I first went to America (we called it America in 1982 unlike ‘the States’ now). I had been due to go to Morocco for a month with Kevin Dunn but he crashed his Vespa the day before we were due to fly. Dumb ass. I had one month booked off from work and nowhere to go. The kind lady in the travel agents talked me into a 21 day camping trip from New York to Miami and back again (the tour company still do this trip 25 years later). This turned out to be a life changing decision and was the kick-start to the life I'm living now. The next day I was on my way to New York City. My Mum cried at the airport because she thought she wouldn’t see me alive again. Kojak was still on TV and Starsky and Hutch were still fresh in our minds.
New York was UNBELIEVABLE and will be another blog entry one day. There were 10 of us travelling in a comfy van with tents and stuff on the roof. Every day we camped somewhere different and in major locations we stayed for several days. I learned to ride a horse in the Blue Mountains of Kentucky, I learned to ride a jet ski in Tampa Bay, I saw my first pussy up-close in a stripper bar in Buffalo, I learned to walk a high-wire, I went to Disney World and began a love affair with Mickey and his evil corporation, I ate food I hadn’t seen before ("what’s a red pepper?") and I met people who inspired me.
We slept in two-man tents and I teamed up with a guy from New Zealand who was travelling around the world before his father handed the family farm over to him. Colin was big, handsome, hairy and brusque. We got along like a house on fire and within a few days he had me drinking beer at breakfast and skinny-dipping in freezing lakes in Carolina. We stayed in a hotel for two nights when we got to New Orleans and our driver got us a great deal on a place with a swimming pool in the French Quarter. We drank hurricanes by the pool and had a group meal at a haunted restaurant then drank more hurricanes at Pat O’Brien’s bar. Needless to say Colin and I ended up back at the hotel skinny-dipping in the dark and deserted swimming pool. Our play-wrestling turned a little violent and while we were throwing each other around in the water it became obvious to both of us that we were, er, aroused. We kissed like greedy amatuers in the deep end, which was uncomfortable as I’m only five foot six so we stumbled to bed in suspense at what might happen. Nothing happened. We climbed into bed and fell asleep. Not in each other’s arms, not spooning but not exactly at the far ends of the mattress either. We didn’t mention it the next day and we carried on as if nothing had happened (and technically it hadn’t). I was totally in love with him by the time we got back to New York and we had three days alone to explore the city. Colin obviously enjoyed my company as he changed his travel plans and flew back to the UK with me and spent some time in Northumberland before going off to travel around Europe. Apart from maybe a few ‘crushes’ at school this was my first ‘full on’ straight-boy love affair. I was a mess when he left to go travelling. I sort of knew at the time that this wouldn’t be the last occasion when a man would make my heart hurt but I still hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the next one came along (it wasn't and they came thick and fast after that).

4 years later in New Zealand I got to introduce Colin to my boyfriend Tom and he introduced me to his wife, Karen. We didn’t get drunk and we didn't mention that night.