March 31, 2009 § 2 Comments
My dear couchsurfers,
It has been exactly 185 days since I left the sunny shores of Sydney to see your side of the world. When I left I had nothing but my backpack and a thirst for the unknown.
I have been to 3 continents, 18 countries, and crossed over many seas and oceans. My feet have walked thousands of miles. They are weary but I have seen and done more than I ever thought myself to be capable of doing. Most importantly they have led me to you all. I will always remember that you have shared with me your homes, your lives, and most of all, yourselves, with me.
So thank you all from the bottom of my heart. My journey has been possible because of you. I leave to Southeast Asia today, and will be back in Australia in a few months. Farewell, and see you on the other side. My couch will always be open to you.
March 30, 2009 § 5 Comments
It was a stormy night. Just my luck to get this weather. In the desert, folks!
I’m back in the Emirates for a few days, in Abu Dhabi. On the agenda, visit an old friend, eat lots of spicy food, drink fake beer, check out grand hotels, and spend more money in 3 days than I ever spent 2 weeks in Europe. Also! Watch Coldplay play their final tour show.
H and I went to the Emirates Palace to hang out while waiting for the concert. The place is amazingly amazing. Everything is big and gold. The sofas are plush and shiny and opulent. There are large cars everywhere. People are rich. There is a little man at the reception standing to serve you tea. H and I went to the hotel cafe and had expensive tea and pretended to be posh for a little while.
The concert, complimented by heavy rain and lightning flashes in the background while Chris Martin was screaming ‘we’re singing in the rain!’, was super awesome. Despite being soaked to the bone and being cold and wet, it was an unforgettable experience. Come on, watching Coldplay, live, in the rain, in the middle of the fucking desert! Could not get better than that.
March 26, 2009 § 2 Comments
Here’s a little questionnaire to keep everyone pondering for a short period of time.
1. What do you call a guy who completely ignores his female guest for one week after she refuses to sleep with him, but ‘accidentally’ lets her walk in on him completely nude with his lady friend?
2. What do you say when people ask you ‘where are you from’ and when you reply ‘everywhere’ they start getting agro and curse at you in a foreign language?
3. How do you discreetly excuse yourself when invited for drinks by a guy who at first seemed decent enough but after 20 minutes gets drunk on ouzo and begins to knock things over?
4. How does one avoid 1, 2, and 3?<
1. Weirdo, creepo, jerk-off, douchebag, et cetera.
2. Nothing. A finger speaks louder than words.
3. I have to go home to sleep.
4. JUST GET THE HELL OUT, MAN.
Needless to say, although I've enjoyed Athens tremendously, Answers 1 and 4 finds me at the airport 8 hours early for my flight. Blogging live from Athens Airport, eating french fries and chewing gum. Thanks for participating.
March 25, 2009 § 2 Comments
Guess where I’m spending the night tomorrow? Milan Airport. But why, you ask? I was only there last week to leave to Athens. On a one way ticket.
Because. Flight Centre had given me information that I could fly to my next destination from Athens. But no. This is not true. There is no truth in this information. No, no, no. However it appears they fly from Milan. Great! I just have to GO BACK THERE! How do I do that? I have to BUY ANOTHER TICKET! Yay!
I have just spent a considerable amount of money to fly back to an airport I have already been to, just to burn 12 hours while waiting for my next flight the following morning. At night. In Milan Airport. All alone. How shall I entertain myself?
Should I blame Flight Centre for this? Yes or no? Food for thought while I venture out one final time to the Ancient Agora. I hope I don’t meet any clowns today, or it shall be quite unpleasant for everyone involved.
March 23, 2009 § 7 Comments
After a day of strolling around the Acropolis, the Temple of Zeus and various other antiquities, I would like to get a T-shirt with the following words:
If you are a clown, please stay the fuck away from me.
If you try to hook your arms onto mine, I shall have to remove them.
If you say ‘ni hau ma’ or ‘konichiwa’ to me, I shall have to kill you. Painfully.
If you are one person guilty of all of the above, I admit, you caught me in a state of shock so my reactions were slightly slow. But please pray we will never meet again or second and third point shall come true. See first point for your own safety.
It would be an awesome T-shirt.
March 20, 2009 § 4 Comments
I’m couchsurfing with GI Joe at the moment here in Athens. Only he is Greek. And his name is not Joe. G works in the airforce. He is beefy. And likes to paint. His flat is full of paint. The taps are painted yellow. Even the bathtub and the sink are shades of blue. Complements the red and orange walls well.
This morning I woke up to this sea of colours and stumbled my way into the yellow kitchen and opened the yellow fridge. It took me 45 minutes to boil some eggs. This was after I realized I had turned on the wrong hot plate and burned a large hole in the packet of muesli sitting on it. G has tons of stuff sitting on each hot plate. This I do not understand. Just like the painted white goods.
I’m still sleepy as hell, but at least after one hour, I got to eat some breakfast. I’m sorry about the lack of photos, but I need to find a computer which will let me transfer images from my phone. Oh dear, it is almost time for lunch.
March 19, 2009 § 5 Comments
Being of Asian appearance can be both an asset and a liability in this part of the world, depending on how one views these things. Neither belonging to a bus load of Japanese/Chinese tourists, for the most part I’ve discovered that it is actually more a liability due to the fact that by myself, I stand out like a fucking sore thumb.
This has annoying consequences, especially when it comes to the attention of men. Though I have enjoyed the company of beautiful ones over the past few months, every now and then I encounter the, shall we say,’ substandard’ kind, who seem to think that we will gush with wide-eyed wonder and bat our lashes at being addressed by any old European bloke. I blame the Japanese for this! Damn you and your stereotypical behaviour! Damn you and your geishas! Damn you and your hats and cameras! But I digress.
Back in Paris, a French bus driver tried to invite me back to his flat to ‘practice his English’. In Seville some Spanish dude basically came up to me in a club and practically stuck his tongue in my ear. On occasions like these I politely decline and lie. And slide away. Slide, very quickly.
I was walking around in Milan minding my own business like I usually do, when a middle-aged Italian man suddenly whisked up next to me. He had silver greasy looking long hair, parted in the middle, with round glasses. He was short, and said he was an architect. He probably used this line to impress the ladies but I said, ‘me too’. He looked slightly disappointed but said he would show me some parts where Leonardo da Vinci painted some work. Again, I tried to be polite and went with him for a while.
Such a bad decision. After a whole of 5 minutes, without any warning whatsoever, he decided it was acceptable to hook his arm onto mine, and probably expected me to ‘tra-la-la’ with him skipping happily along. I was so completely stunned by this I froze for a whole two seconds before being consumed by such utter repulsion that I shoved his arm away and almost leapfrogged about a meter away. Yes, I can leapfrog over things. I do not exaggerate.
There is just no polite way to disguise complete disgust on one’s face. He got the message pretty quickly and left as fast as he appeared. Firstly, who the hell hooks arms anymore? Secondly, I’m not a fucking escort!
Argh, SO MUCH WRONG.