Sydney, Australia

Dear blog. Please forgive me for neglecting you. We did so well at first. We had such fun. I even uploaded photos on occasions. And now look at us. Barely talking. Can’t even look each other in the eye. It’s like we don’t have time for each other anymore. I’m out partying with my new friends and your always floating around the internet like some digital cyber-slut. Let’s make a new start. Let’s give it another go. I can change. I promise.

Enough of the nonsense, lets crack on. I left you all in Perth (far too long ago I know), a place that was filled with glorious sunshine, impossibly perfect beaches and wonderful people (and weirdos). So it was with a slight reluctance that I decided to move on with my travels to Sydney (and when I say travels I think it should now be referred to as my 'bumbling meanderings from one place to another').

Arrived in Sydney with two guys (well a guy and a girl) I met in Perth who were also going. It was 7am. It was raining. Smiling I was not. I would like to mention as a side that Australians have a charming habit of shortening words to make them easier to say e.g. Freemantle becomes 'Freeo', Brisbane becomes 'Brizzy', Tasmania becomes 'Tazzy'. So it came as a surprise that when I spoke to locals (or anyone come to think of it) mentioning I was off to 'Sidders' they all looked at me as if I had dicks for hands. How I’d know what someone’s face would be like when they met someone with dick-hands is a separate session for me and my therapist.

So driving through the rain, waiting for a sun that wouldn’t rise, in a city that on first impressions looked remarkably like London, put us all in a mild depressive slump. We arrived at the modern 'Wake Up' hostel in the center of the city and found we couldn’t check in for another 3 hours. After staring at the walls like 'special' zombies, and an overpriced, under-flavoured breakfast later, we got in to our rooms and slept.

We're in the capital city of Australia. There's some impressive buildings to see, captivating shows, picturesque harbours, museums, galleries, oh what to do......shall we go full razz and check out what the bars are like? Ok!

It’s as though World War 2 never happened the amount of Nazis you get on the door to bars and clubs.



'I think he likes me'

You need photo ID for any decent bar in the city and they wont let you in if you look mildly drunk or you're wearing a dress (errr, more on that later). Anyway managed to find a suitable establishment for the night and got suitably drunk. Nothing new there. Ended the night with a kebab and was disappointed to find that they actually come as a wrap in pitta bread rather than the open box kind I’m used to. Not the best I’ve had, but still a kebab.

In the morning, Charlie left for LA so Andy (Paranoid Android, Spewing or Angie depending on what you want to call him) and I left the hostel to have a wander around the city. First thing we noticed for our first day in Sydney was that there was a hell of a lot of Oriental people here. It took us a week to figure out that we were actually staying in the China Town area of the city. Duh. It was still pretty overcast and grey and with a nasty hangover added on top of that we were both feeling pretty low. If you look at my last entry, the sunsets and beaches of Perth seemed like a distant memory and our tans were fading rapidly. I wasn’t quite prepared to jump headlong into the hustle and bustle of a major city. We made an effort though and booked ourselves on an emergency services fancy dress booze cruise that was being promoted at the hostel. Free food, booze and entry to a club for 30 quid. Can’t be too bad.


On the night, in normal attire, we hung about by Darling Harbour in the p*ssing rain waiting for the brain dead reps to distinguish their posteriors from their elbows and also find our vessel. Not many others had bothered with fancy dress apart from a few lame efforts by some skanks. Once onboard we toyed with the idea of queuing up for food but quickly abandoned it and headed to the bar. ‘Free booze’ actually equated to goon (nasty boxed wine), a lame beer we’d never heard of and bucks fizz (goon with orange juice). Hmmm, think we’ve been conned here. Still, free booze is free booze and we tucked in. The bucks fizz was like drinking cow sweat and the beer wasn’t much better, but we persevered. It soon dawned on us that we were a fair bit older than everyone else on board as we witnessed lots of 18 year olds rolling around and shouting. Made us feel quite old. I was expecting the first time I laid my eyes on Sydney Opera House to be a significant moment. So when we sailed passed it in a sozzled state it kinda passed us by. “Oh look Sydney Opera House…..shall we go to the bar?”. I decided to leave it to another day to appreciate it fully. When we finally docked after a quite tedious journey, everyone rolled out into the buses to take us to the club. The bus got rammed up and everyone started singing and shouting. Me and the Android were far from in the mood and sat there like sulking kids while all carnage was going on around us. Upon arrival, and faced with a night filled with drunken 18 year olds, cheesey music and a lame club, we finally made the right decision and bailed for a proper club. Even though it was an additional 15 quid to get in and about 20 quid for a round, the Defected house party at Tank (apparently one of the worlds finer nightclubs) was just what we needed and was the highlight of a fairly grim night. And we had McDonalds for supper at 5am too. Result.

We were quickly finding the city a bit too much to handle. Luckily Sydney has lots of beaches only 30 mins away so we checked out the city hostel and headed for Coogee to check into a more costal hostel for the weekend. Met up with Laurence (loud saffa guy I used to work with – good lad) for a drink. I was attempting to quit smoking at this point. 2 days later the Malboroughs were safely back in my hands. I’ll try again later. The beach here was a lot smaller, more crowded and filled with Irish people (I swear Australia is like Little Ireland or something - its Paddymania over here). But, it was a beach and it was a suitable fix for our Perth withdrawal. We both managed to get sun burnt in about an hour lying on the beach even though we both had deep tans, the sun was not as strong and Id spent every day for a month in the sun with no sun block on back in Perth. They say there’s a big hole in the ozone layer this side of Oz. No sh*t Sherlock. It became clear quite quickly that Perth had spoilt us. It was gonna be tough to match the gorgeous weather, endless beaches, beautiful women and great company that we had gorged on. The hostel in Coogee was filled with mostly loud-mouthed, thick, fat ugly Brits. Even the Swedish girls here weren’t up to scratch. Andy and I kinda kept ourselves to ourselves. Would there be an end to this depressive funk? How the hell can we lift this mood? What were we gonna do to move on? Something needed to be done. We needed a plan. A dream. And we were gonna get it!

It was simple 4 stage plan. Get a nice apartment, get a job, get an Xbox 360 and get all the Perth crew over.

Finding an apartment was the first real reminder of life back home. Forgot how tedious flat hunting really is. At first we wanted to live by the beach, but a lot of landlords in that area seemed to have a funny interpretation of the word ‘modern’. Not sure how 70’s furniture worse than my student days, with cracked windows and iron burn marks on the carpet constitutes ‘modern’. So we decided to go live right in the heart of the city and give it another go. After a long search, many viewings, and a heart-stoppingly large deposit later we finally found the one:


'Won't stay like that'



'The Android in all his glory'

Complete with gym, sauna, pool, parking space and balcony. Slap bang in the city by Darling Harbour, this is our view when we leave the apartment.



'A bridge too far?'



'Come in number 6 your time is up'

There is also a 24 hour pub below (dangerous as you always pop in for ‘one’ on the way home from a night out), 24 hour 7/11 (dangerous as everything inside is basically pure crap – great for munchies though), off license (dangerous as its always tempting to buy a cheeky red on the way home) and humongous 24 hour casino (you can guess why that’s dangerous). Oh, and a kebab shop just for good measure. Got used to the wraps now and they’re delicious. Many a time we’ve had them for breakfast or lunch. Or dinner, come to think of it.

Now you may be thinking at this point that I’m supposed to be traveling on a budget and staying in scummy little hostels. Well yes, maybe. I’ve stayed in some sh*tholes in my life. I know how to rough it. But given the choice, I know what I’d rather. So here we are. Step one of the dream achieved. Now, you’d think the next logical step would be to get a job sharpish to cover the rather scary weekly rent. You’d think wouldn’t you. Nah, lets spend even more money on a brand new Xbox 360 with games and a surround sound speaker system!! Step two achieved! (For all you video game freaks out there, PGR3 is fantastic and Fight Night 3 is on the horizon…). Surely NOW, we need a job. Well…yeah…we started looking around and visiting agencies and getting interviews. But it wasn’t soon enough. The first batch of the Perth crew were coming into Sydney…

Now, our lease explicitly states that our lovely apartment should at no point house more than 2 people. So for the past month we’ve had at least 5 people in the flat, reaching 8 people staying at one point!! It was cosy, horociasly messy but great, great fun. Here’s the highlights of the past month with all our guests.

Strange coincidence time again. Whilst wandering the streets of Sydney, Andy bumped into 2 people randomly on separate occasions that he’d met in Perth. Fairly strange. One night we went out with the one girl he’d met for a few drinks. We went to the bar at the hostel she was staying at with our first guest, Ollie. As the night progressed, Andy and Ollie were getting stuck into this girl and her friend leaving me as billy no mates. So as I get up to find someone else to chat to I hear a voice calling my name. My immediate thought was panic. I’m in Sydney. No one knows I’m here and I don’t know anyone here. I must be in trouble. Luckily, and bizarrely it was a girl I had met in Japan the night I went to see Oasis (remember that blog fans?). Very strange. We chatted for a while and reminisced and swapped numbers. After that we moved onto another bar in the city and who should I bump into?? That’s right, my maniac buddy I went round Thailand with, Holmsey! Too strange. This was all too much for me and I tried to read some meaning into these two random meetings in the same night but didn’t come to any conclusions other than I was pretty drunk by now. He’s staying in Sydney for a while so a hectic night out with him soon is inevitable…

Andy’s a seasoned surfer and so is Ollie so its time for me to learn. What day do I pick to do it? That’s right, the day that Sydney has the biggest swell in 30 years thanks to cyclone Larry wrecking it up on the east coast a week previous! Arrived at Manly beach (‘The world famous’ Bondi beach was the other option but the waves were just too crazy) and witnessed a guy walking off the beach with a snapped surf board. Looking out the waves were up to 10 feet tall. My Christ, I’m going to die. Sod it though, he who dares Rodders… Rented a board and just got stuck in, no lessons. It’s surprisingly difficult and requires a lot of fitness just to get out there. This was gonna be a problem. And added to that the waves were so rough it was hard work just to get out into the big surf. As you paddle out the waves just destroy you and it’s a skill just to be able to duck the waves on a board. Plus I was on a learner board that are even harder to duck waves with. I made a valiant attempt though and did catch one or two waves even if I looked like an epileptic on speed when I stood up. Most of the time though I was getting destroyed by the waves. I have a new found respect for the sea now. It’s pretty scary getting held under a wave while you don’t know which way is up or down and you’re running out of breath. I survived, even though they had search helicopters out for someone who went missing that day.

Back to the apartment and more people arriving, including the lovely team Sweden. Many a subsequent night was spent up in smoke and drinking heavily. It was at this point we developed a nasty habit of ‘humping’ inanimate objects and people. That’s right. Rock up to something or someone and simulate sex with it. Simple, puerile fun. On one particular night it was decided we would all wear red and a bit of eye make up. Hence:


'A nice touch, I trust you'll agree'

And commit various acts of humping:


'Here we see a lovely mount. A real effort being put in'



'This is spectacular. Note the grip on the back of the head and the snarl. Great form'



'Again, the sneer is present from this seasoned humper. Look at the determination'



'A futile attempt to block a hump from a spectator. Thats nice to see'



'This is just nice and simple. He's seen what he wants and has just gone for it. Smashing'



'Oh ho ho, a group hump. This is a trademark from the Anglo-Scandanavian team here and the crowd love it'



'Hmmm, a somewhat demonic hump here. Not sure of the crowd know what to make of it'

The humping went one step too far at the end of the night when we humped a car that had stopped at traffic lights. The guy got out and threw me to the ground. Quite right too!

A birthday for one of the Swedish girls had me singing the Swedish version of Happy Birthday (They don’t sing happy birthday but ‘May she live for 100 years’) and we baked a cake and ate it by the Opera House. Well, ate most of it:



'You've, err, got a bit of cake on your face..'


'Finally made it to the Opera House!'

And sparklers were used liberally:



'A gin sparkler'



'A sparkler in a Big Mac. Have you seen a sadder sight?'

Another night involved a budget of $10 (five pounds) to buy the worst clothes you can find for someone else to wear. Hence:



'The new winter collection from Versace'

Apparently I had my hair like a character called Alf Alpha from some film. I don’t know who Alf Alpha is but what I did know is I looked quite the prat. Either way, Karaoke was attended, Morrisey was sung and Gin was drunk. And yes, I ended up wearing that awful purple dress home and was denied entry from the local. Bloody bouncers eh? Step 3 complete.

To top it all off I have now done the most foolish, stupid and irresponsible thing since I left the UK. That’s right. I’ve done got myself a job. Most of the Perth crew are gone or are leaving soon and myself and Angie are up at 7 every morning to our wonderful office jobs. An incredible crash back to reality. One I’m still coming to terms with. Step 4, sadly complete. However I do work for a biscuit company so I can get all the biscuits and crisps I want (more junk food), and for once I’m earning money not spending it.
Another attempt at giving up smoking has been attempted and failed (2 days again), but a new diet and gym plan is on the cards when everyone has left and we can get back to normality.

Sadly blog fans, this will probably be the last blog entry for a little while as I’m sticking in Sydney for 3 months. Don’t worry though as all this sensibleness will soon be over and nonsense and foolishness will be resumed shortly when I continue my travels up the east coast.

As I’ve been writing all this, a German and Swedish girl have been wrestling on the floor in front of me. Plus, Lost is on in a minute. And there’s ice cream in the freezer with magic chocolate sauce. Rest assured, life is pretty sweet at the moment.

Live the dream blog fans.

Perth, Australia

You may recall all that time ago in my last entry that upon arrival in Perth I was planning to detox, get healthy, do some exercise, maybe even go to the gym. I dont think Ive ever been so fantastically naive in all my life.

Yes, Perth has been a manic but wonderful month of drinking and lying on beaches. I made the wise decision to stay at a hostel by the beach instead of staying in the chaotic Northbridge in the main city. It is quite simply beautiful here. The hostel in a chilled little town that apparently has more millionaires per square mile than anywhere else in the world. So lots of flash cars and beautiful people swanning around the place with a load of scummy backpackers in a hostel slap bang in the middle of it. Right on the beach so when you get up you walk straight onto it. And its probably the best beach Ive been to in my life. Check it:


'Yes'


'Yes'


'Yes'


'YES!'


'RRRAAAAAGGGGHHHHH!!!'

Had the initial fear again of arriving on my own and worrying about not meeting anyone. Once again my fears were completley unecessary. Im not sure how I actually met everyone but managed to form a big group of great friends and hung out with them for the entire time. The hostel was basic but had a little courtyard where people would congregate every night to drink. It was hard to do anything else to be honest:


'Err, anyone fancy a soft drink?'

For the first week I didnt leave the village. To be honest I barely left the hostel! I would go to the beach and melt in the 37C sun then go to the hostel and drink the crazy goon (boxes of wine - 4 litres for 5 quid). Not sure if its actually wine, I think its some sort of checmical substitute but seems to do the job. In addition to your usual hangover though it gives you a crazy sore throat and agonising stomach craps. Good stuff then. The drinking would sometimes just be endless. Like one morning I stumbled groggily down to the courtyard at midday only to be handed a beer where an impromptue all day drinking session started and resulted in us all shaving our stuble to leave just a moustache.


'Borrat, Me and Jack. Yex-a-mesh!'

However, the craziness did slow down at some points which allowed me to venture out and try other things. Like surfing. Ive only been used piddly little waves on all the beaches Ive ever been to. It was quite a shock to go swimming in sea with proper 'surf'. You go out and get battered, smashed and half drowned by waves sometimes twice the size of you. And they're the small ones. But I persevered and managed to get the hang of body surfing where you kind of make a superman pose and ride on top the wave. Great fun but if you time it wrong you can get plouged head first into the sand. Also tried a body board which is the little short boards that you lie on but they can give you horribly sore nipples unless you wear a rashie (got my surfing lingo down a treat too). I will be attempting proper surfing in the near future where I will probably kill myself.

One thing I have noticed about Australia is the amount of weirdos and mentalists there are floating around. 2 people got thrown out of the hostel; one for feeling up the girls in the dorm while they were sleeping, the other was just a psycho. He would drink all day everyday in the pub on his own then would come into the hostel and start threating everyone. Even raising his fists to some of the girls. When challenged by some of the other guys he stated 'Ill rip your fucking hands off'. Nice. Out! Another one occured just sitting outside a chip shop in the middle of the day. Some guy came out of the shop and sat at the table across from us and just glared at the guy I was with and growled "What you fucking looking at. You fucking want some?! Yeah thought so!!". Totally unprovoked. Man, I cant be dealing with all the weirdness. The last weirdo was thankfully a very pleasant person. But no less weird. Elaine, the woman who is in the Guiness book of records for having the most piercings on the human body. 4220. Thats right. 4220. With no less than 500 in her vagina!! She was staying at the hostel and I bumped into her on the way back from a night out. She said shes looking for a nice blonde man. Good luck love. I asked her how she got through airport security and she said she simply strips naked. Of course?!? She then proceeded to get her tits out and make me feel all the piercings under skin of her breast. Why the hell not. Although she was quite an attention seeker (well, obviously) she was very pleasant. Apparently shes going off to Hawaii or somewhere to do some filming for the next Scoobee Doo film. Probably as some sort of ghost.


'You've, er, got something on your face love'

Weirdos aside, Perth is probably my favourtie place so far. Met so many wicked people who Im keeping in touch with for a reunion next year. Obviously a lot has happened in the last month so heres a few highlights.

Diving. I have changed my opinion of it. Went snorkling off the beautiful Rottnest island and it was amazing. It was about 10 meters deep and perfectly clear and I spent my time chasing a huge sting ray all over the shop. Felt like superman flying over an underwater city. I think I wanna live under the sea. Also did some exercise (!) and cycled around the island.


'What is this strange sensation..'

Windsurfing. One of the guys in the hostel was a windsurf instructor and took us out for discount lessons. Good fun but ridiculously difficult. It ended up with us all drifting all the way past the barriers each time as we had no way to control the bloody thing.

A conversation on the beach one day about the mighty Steam Rock in Bristol and playing centurians (drinking 100 shots of beer in 100 minutes) led to me organising a random toga party for everyone and, of course, playing centurians.


'Toga! Toga! Toga!'

I would like to say for the record that it was only me and the lovely Charlie that managed to do all 100 without throwing up or going to the toilet. I did however wake up in my toga and head reef.

Got a little drunk one night and watched TV and saw an advert for a waterpark. My eyes lit up I hired some cars and got everyone down there. I can honestly not think of a better day than splashin about in a waterpark with 6 beutiful girls in bikinis. Im a f**king genious.


'Im getting wet'

Random art gallery on the beach:


'Dead, polystyrene, cows. What else'

Did a little mini road trip down to Margret River to check out the crazy surf and do a little wine tasting on a tour of all the vinyards. I dont think Ill ever be a wine conosur as after a while it all started to taste the same. Possibly because ive battering my taste buds with all the booze and fags. One of the guys in the winery only talked to the girls and would make make lots of letcherous comments and constantly looking at there tits. He then bragged about his son being in one of the photos for the winery and then in a different context mentioned 'charging by the hour or the day' to which I said 'What? Your son?' which I dont think he liked to mych but made me feel good for getting one up on the letch. Anyway, heres an action shot:


'Plenty of nose'

Found a cool feature on my camera that allows you to take multiple, paparrazzi style photos at once. Great for action shots, like jumping into a pool:


'The Genie'

Did a little sight seeing around the beautiful city of Perth:


'Not a cloud in the sky every day I was in Perth'

There are probably lots of other things that Ive over looked but to be honest I think Ive rotted my brain a little from all the over indulgence which is not a good thing as Im now in Sydney, its raining and I have a job interview tomorrow. Wish me luck!

Have you ever wondered what happens when you cover yourself in suncream and then bury your face in the sand? This:


'Alright?'

Keep the sand out of your crack blog fans.

Singapore

Oh the humidty!!

So, Singapore, a brief history. Discovered by Africa, in 1976, they named it 'Singapure' due to the abudance of Karaoke machines left over from the war. They promptly renamed it to 'Singapore' in 1981 when the great German tourist 'Hagan Daas Boot' pointed out that 'Singapure' in German means 'Nazi Agenda' and would be bad for tourism. The Africans soon discovered that the entire island was built on a vast labrinth of tunnels that was belived to be built by dragons as the then leader at the time, 6 year old 'Oogan Dan', proclaimed that 'No human could have ever build that', and it was widely believed by all. He later admitted on his death bed 3 years later that 'I have no idea what a dragon is. Nor a tunnel for that matter'. Two decades of prosperous serenity then passed with daily life consisting of bathing, due to the heat, and talking about the price of bacon. Sweating was absorbed into the culture and they had no less than 27 different words for the term 'clammy' as Britain does with the word 'raining'. Then, in November 2005, Britain invaded and decreed that the population should consist of a mix of all Asian cultures and kindly asked all Africans to leave which they happily obliged to as they had had enough of the bathing, the bacon and all the faulty post-war Karoke machines. The only condition laid down by the British was that the new population must speak English. They then turned all the dragon tunnels into shopping malls which the island still floats on to this day. The Britons then all evacuated but left a few behind for prosperity.

This is, of course, completely untrue.

Not being ignorant, I did a little investigation into the history and found it involved boats, pirates, stongmen competions, a japanese invasion and pottery (not necessarily in that order) so I decided to be a little economical with the facts.

The tasty morsels of truth you can pick out from the veritable banquet of lies I just served are these: It is, ridiculously humid here. 2 showers a day is normal for me as walking around the streets leaves a bad sensation of 'swamp ass'. There are shopping malls literally everywhere, but they do serve as a blessed relief to duck into now and again and soak up the magnificent air con. When you hit the humidity outside again, you get overwhelmed with clamminess. Singapore actually means 'Lion City' and it was named by a guy called Stamford Raffles who settled here. He named it that after he saw a lot of Lions on the island. Must of felt like a bit of prat afterwards as there are no Lions here and what he actually saw were Tigers. Lastly, and for me most bizzarly, everyone speaks English. This is due the British originally setting up Singapore as a major trading port and when all the immigrants from Malaysia, China and India came along I guess everyone spoke English as a central language. Its very stange having everyone speak English but with an Asian accent. Even the TV programs are in English with an Asian accent. They do of course speak their native tounge but English is the one that allows everyone to communicate I guess. Which makes my life a hell of a lot easier. I think it sets a great model for a multi-cultural city with no racism or segragation. Everyone just mixes in together. You have your little areas like China Town and Little India but generally everyone is happy all living together as a society and I saw no evidence of racism or unrest between the differet 'effnics'. Will never happen back home but then we have a very different history.

The other great thing (well, for a geek lke me) is that its great to see the arcade game scene still thriving. There was a huge one opposite my hostel. It was always packed full of people and had all sorts of games in there including, to my delight, every incarnation of Street Fighter. Popped in there every evening after a hard days getting lost and managed to get my arse kicked every time by the locals. Guess Im out of practice.

I wasnt planning on staying here too long but couldnt get my flight changed quicker so have spent a week here. Most of my time has been spent wandering round getting lost (as always) and doing a bit of shopping. Went to a museam on the history of Singapore that described its history and the various cultures of the people that reside within. All fairly standard until I came across the display depicting how the Muslims celebrate Ramadan. Now, I dont want to offend any Muslims here (as they are a bit touchy these days - ask the Danes) but this is a photo of the display for Ramadan, exactly as I saw it:


'Please sir, can I have some more'

Very suspect! Anyway, other shenanigans included going to the beach (you can go from the business center of the town to a beautiful, albeit man-made, beach in about 30 minitues), riding cable cars and ski lifts (which, like in Japan made me shit myself as they were so high - why do I keep doing it to myself!) and general wandering around. Pics:


'Nice'


'lovely'


'cool'


'Man-made'


'My God! This escalator stops at 9!! We gotta get back by then or we're doomed!'

Most people tend to ignore you as you are very much an ethnic minority but people are friendly when you get chatting to them. Had some intersting conversations including this one with some old guy on a push bike as I was walking back from the pub one night. He stops his bike:

OldMan: Where you from?
Me: Wales.
OM: WAILSH?
Me: Way-ls.
OM: WAILSH?
Me: Way-ls. In the UK.
OM: Ahhh. In England.
Me: No, sepearate country next to England.
OM: ....
Me: You know Scotland and Ireland?
OM: Yeah..
Me: Well Wales is below Ireland next to England..
OM: WAILSH?
Me: You know Tom Jones?
OM: Ohhh Yeah. (Starts singing) Its not unusual to .......
Me: Right, well hes from Wales.
OM: WAILSH?
Me: Oh for fucks sake.

and so it went on. Sometimes there really is no point in trying to give yourself some sort of identity by saying you're from Wales. Im as proud as the next Welshman but sometimes it can save you minutes of tedious conversation to say your from the UK instead and when they say England just grit your teeth and say 'yeah'.

Havent been out that much as beer is pretty expensive here, and also ive not really found it that backpacker orientated so its harder to meet people. I did, however, have a drink with an old uni pal (the lovely Aimee) as bizzarly she was working out here for the same week I was here. Went out for a meal at this lovely restaurant:


'The beginning of my quest for a picture in every branch of hooters...'

Got a push bike tuk tuk home that night and feeling energised I told the drive to sit in the back while I drove round the city. Was a great laugh pulling up to traffic lights and glaring over at the motorbikes challenging them to a burn off when the lights turned. Thats twice Ive been drunk in charge of a push bike now. I loves it.


'Busy tonight drive?'

Right ho, off to Perth next in Australia. Gonna spend the first two weeks just chilling out on the beach and detoxing. Maybe even go to the gym a bit. I know. Its the most stupid thing Ill do on this trip but you know what, all this travelling around is hard work, I need a break ;)

Laos

I am now a proper traveller. From Ko Lanta where I left off, to Laos maybe a long way, but its only a simple hop and a skip in a plane. However. Only the hardcore would take 3 days to do it by bus. It began with a 12 hour (actually its nearer 14. Time, punctuality and general efficiency is a only a vague consideration in these parts) overnight journey to Bangkok. I decided to drink a bottle of rum to help me sleep. This however did not work and instead kept me awake jabbering to the couple behind me doing frog impressions much to the annoyance of fellow dozing passengers (these things happen). It turned out that the girl of the couple is a dancer for music videos (check out the long haired blonde girl with sunnies in the Arron Smith dance video 'dancin' - lovely). So a bleary arrival at Bangkok at 7am with 10 hours to kill before the next journey consisted of booking a room (prison cell) for the day for a bit of shut eye which was near impossible due to the multitude of cockrals, dogs and shouting Isrealies outside. 6pm the next bus is due to leave but it actually turns out to be 8:30pm with lots of lugging your bags from various waiting points before you even get on the bus. Another overnighter, this time some sleeping tablets gave me a few hours kip. Arrived into Laos 14 hours later only to then jump on another 6 hour trip, this time on a packed out local bus and minus the comfort of the previous one. Finally get to Vang Vien (I think) for our first stop. Thankfully a very chilled out village where every eatery plays either Simpsons or Friends on loop. Heaven after the journey.

Next day we plan to do the main thing to do here, tubing. Consists of sitting on an inner tube while the gentle current of the Mekon river slowly carries you down. Along the way lots of bars stick out big sticks to drag you in for Beer Laos (The best beer in SE Asia, apparently), bananas and Lao Lao (clear whiskey that gives a mild sensation of death when consumed). That was the plan. When we woke, it was basically p*ssing it down with rain. The first day of rain in 3 months. And as we were on a tight schedule because I had booked flights to Singapore in 5 days and Di had to fly home. We had to do it that day or nothing. So sitting, shivering on a river waiting for the next bar so we can get out and try to warm up, was the main plan. Was so gutted as on a sunny day it would have been awesome. It was quite enjoyable but we had to cut it short due to impending hypothermia. Went out in the night to a cool little bar by the river with a big bonfire where everyone sits round and natters. Had an heated discussion with the bloke next to me about what it was that caused more people to arrive. His argument was that people just tend to follow his group around. I think mine was more conclusive in that the fellow DJ I was with asked the bar man to put on some smooth house tunes and that attracted people in. I think we know who was right.

Early start (Gruu) for, you guessed it, ANOTHER 6 hour bus ride through bumpy, although very impressive, mountainous roads to get to the capital Luang Prubang. This time I had had enough and I was in stinking, rotten mood. The only way to cope was to pour page after page of my bile into my notebook about how much I disliked SE Asia. I have had time to be a bit more reflective now but it will all come in my next entry on my summation of SE Asia. Luckily I was distracted by the pretty girl sleeping next to me which inspired me to pen, a quite frankly, filthy, poem. It wont appear on these pages though unfortunately as it will properly shock and sicken people too much. Personal requests only.

Arrived at the capital, Luang Probang, which is a very beautiful and relaxed city with a bo' ho', slightly continental vibe (thanks to the French occupation). I was sharing a room with 3 girls now thanks to the 2 Danish girls that accompanied us from the bus trip. All plutonic though ;) Caught a 'beautiful' sunset by climbing up to a temple that overlooked the city. It was crap really as it was just rammed with tourists with the same idea all snapping away, a thing I have now come to loathe. So, brainy idea, we decide to catch sunrise instead by getting up the following morning at 5am and climbing up the 150 steps to the same point.

This time it was minus all the tourists but due to a fantastic lack of foresight, we found out that the sun didn't actually come up until 7:30. So we're waiting there, in the cold, exhausted from a complete lack of decent sleep from the last 4 days. Then, a load of misty clouds came in so we didn't really see anything. The only highlight was me spotting a moped hitting a monk crossing the road, sending the driver arse over shit. No one was hurt, the monk stayed on his feet, but there was some mild commotion as people gathered round to help up the driver. We were waiting for the hope of the sun poking its head up over the mountains but we got bored and left. As we got to the bottom, the sun came out. So if we had stayed just 5 minutes more we would of seen it. A quite breathtaking waste of my time and my bed. The next attraction was to see the local monks collect there daily food from the cities donators. A big queue of the fellas all lined up waiting to receive their handouts. All surrounded by tourists snapping away sticking cameras in there faces. Totally sickening. I utterly loathe all this 'human zoo' shit they seem to deem 'tourist' attractions so I sulked outside a coffee shop instead. The girls then decided to rent push bikes to tour the city but my mind was deeply in the 'fuck that!' state so I went back to try and get some kip (Some sleep, not he local currency). Of course, that was cut short after about an hour and a half when outside our hostel, a guy with a 1980s Yamaha and various, outrageously bad, singers started blaring out what I can only guess was Laos pop music. Good god. Will no one let me rest!!

In the afternoon we went off to see a waterfall. Before we got there we got to see a little bear sanctuary (the bears were big, the sanctuary little). My wonderful bear jokes went down a treat ('This is un-bear-able','Bear in mind' and 'I think we should bear left'). Then we saw a tiger in a cage ('I'm a Tiger - You're Lion' arf!). So when the girls stopped talking to me after my fantastic display of wit, we headed for the waterfall. Very tall, you get in, swim, get out, dry. Whoop. There were a lot of girls in bikinis though so that helped. Made me think of an interesting question. You can get padded bras but can you get padded bikinis? The mind wanders. The final stop was a visit to a traditional (read poor) mountain village. Final straw. I didn't even get out of the tuk tuk. All these rich westeners parading round snapping away with their expensive cameras while the teams of half naked kids started talking to them only to then beg for money. I don't know why the tour operators deem this a 'tourist' attraction. I think its wrong. But that's just me.

It was Valentines day though so in the evening I headed out to a very snazzy bar for some much needed drinkies. And as irony would have it I ended up smooching with the girl on the bus that inspired my poem (didn't tell her about it though as she might of thought, err, less of me ;) ) The next day and the last thing to do in Laos. Oh god. A two day slow boat trip up the river Mekon to the Thai border. As we were booking it I was on the internet and this guy comes up to me without a courtious 'hello' or 'excuse me', just a straight 'I wanna see the monkeys! Where can I see the monkeys!'

A. 'Who the hell are you?'

B. 'Fuck off' and

C. 'Do I look like a fucking zoo keeper?!? Piss off you freak im on the internet!!'

The biggest hazard in travelling. The lone, middle-aged guy, (LMG) trying to make friends. A bit of a generalisation but a lot I've met are going through some mid-life crisis and will bore you to tears talking about themselves all the time. Luckily I was wise enough to ignore this guy.

The boat consisted of a long thin affair with wooden seats. Each day was 9 hours. Sitting. On a wooden seat. To be fair, apart from the numb arse, it was mildly enjoyable. Met some other people and played some games which helped pass the time. There was another LMG on the boat who although was trying to find inner peace by doing yoga and meditating on the boat, managed to p*ss off a good few people with his rude, abrupt and generally appalling attitude. Someone like that you'd imagine to be a chilled out, nice kinda guy. There were a few sighs of relief when he got off early! The first night stop over was a little village where the waiters in the restaurant (at last!) were more concerned with trying to sell you weed before even taking your drinks order. Now that's what I call service! Well, actually, it did take an hour and a half to get our food but you come to expect that after 2 months in Thailand.

Similar journey the next day only in a smaller, less comfortable, boat. Made it to the border and headed back for my second visit to Chaing Mai back in Thailand. It was at this point where my Karma got me. After bragging to others I had not had an upset stomach for the entire duration of my travels so far, my bowels finally lost their grip and I was treated to 4 episodes of Only Fools and Horses when I got back. No sickness though thank God.

Have now left Thailand and am now in Singapore. Oral sex became illegal here in 1997 until 2004. And you cant smoke anywhere.

I think Ill go to Australia soon.

Keep a grip blog fans.

(Blimey, that was a long one. Didnt think Id have that much to say!)

Ko Lanta, Thailand

The fun stops here folks. I’m now on a tightish schedule as we've planned to head to another country, Laos, in a few days so only 2 days so enjoy Ko Lanta. I’m gonna be on the move for quite a while now. I really, really, really cant wait :(

Ko Lanta then. Lot like Ko Tao (my favourite so far). Very chilled out atmosphere, long, long beaches, lovely sunsets, less tourists and a lot slower pace. Just how I like it. Only stayed for 2 nights though. Bunch of Arse.

'Platonic relationship.....does not compute.....must...destroy!'

Moped time again! This time, I was the expert and Diana was the novice. She broke the record for staying on by careering off the road right outside where we rented. Top job. No injuries though as it was a very slow dainty fall into some grass. Then she had a problem grasping the concept of letting go of the throttle whilst braking resulting in her 'humping' my moped from behind whilst squealing 'How do I stop it?!? It wont stop?!?'. Yerrrrsss. On the road things were cool and she got the hang of it fairly quickly (except for a moment whilst going round a bend she went on the other side of the road heading towards a massive truck - 'It wont turn', 'Try turning the handle bars'). Stopped off at some nice view points for an OJ and a fag.
'Bloody tree-huggers'

Discovered the joy of listing to an Ipod whilst riding. You shoulda see me shaking my ass while bombing along to Basement Jaxx's 'Jump and Shout', Owww! I was hot!! Took a sneaky look into a top 5 star resort and it was really superb. But strangely, completely empty. I would have happily made up the numbers!

'Lets have a look at where you could have stayed...'

Finished off with a ride into town where I finally succumbed to the evils of pirate DVDs. Always said I wouldn’t buy them for myself as I don’t dig the piracy thing, but when you’ve got the entire second series of 'Lost' for 6 quid, temptation can be a real MF. Not really sure when I’m gonna get the time to watch them so hopefully I will get ill in a hotel room with a DVD player and some point in my travels to give me an excuse to stay in and nail it.

Went out again on my own again, (Di had the shits ;) ) well, it was either stay in bed and listen to the blaring music from the nightclub across the road, or just go over there and listen to it. Took me a bit longer to find someone to chat to but didnt matter as they were playing just the right mix of Special Sparm House music so was happy to bob my head along like a div supping on a few Singhers. Got chatting to a bunch of Swedes (They're bloody everywhere over here) who were somehow doing they’re degree in Sweden over the Internet from Thailand! Makes sense I guess, -10 degrees or +30, not a hard choice. Went to a Reggae bar (They're bloody everywhere too!) and we all smacked about on the bongo drums they had out in various beats, rhythms, off beats and general random noise. An uneventful bed time as we are leaving the next day. A catastrophic 2 day bus journey from Ko Lanta (near the south) to another country, Laos, in the North awaits me. The whole length of Thailand and then some.

I’m guessing it’ll be another 'experience'. Now where DID I leave that valium....

Ko Phi Phi, Thailand

Here I am again on a beautiful Thai island. Gorgeous weather topping up my tan. Scenery straight out of a top holiday prize on Family Fortunes.



'And tonights star prize....'

Nothing to do but laze the day away on perfect white sands (well actually the sands a bit harsh on my sensitive feet). But, something isn’t quite right. I spend a day on the beach and I’m unsettled. I’m not fully relaxed. And I think this is why. When you go on holiday, you go for a break. You unwind. Forget work and the hassles of everyday life. At the end you know you're going home refreshed. However I’m not. I aint going home for some time yet so there’s always an itch in the back of my head. Where the hell do I go next? How do I get there? What will it be like? There’s also the fact that, as I said in my last entry, I’m basically staying in a hot shed not a nice hotel like you would on holiday. Yes I am moaning, but I will go into more detail in my final entry to summarise what I’ve seen in SE Asia. Basically though, after nearly 3 months away, a creeping sensation of home-sickness is sweeping upon me. How I deal with it will be my next challenge I feel.


'Well, its not really THAT bad'

"What's this James Bond island like then butt??" I here you cry (if you're Welsh I guess). Well its a case of the old 'Same Same But Different' (Do I buy the T-shirt, Do I not but the T-shirt...). Stunning scenery but its your basic beach with amenities and all the things that us tourists love. The main tourist stretch, which is a return taxi boat ride each time from where we stay that put up our living accommodation by 3 pound a night making it not quite the steal we originally thought it was, got pretty nailed by the old Tsunami so there’s lots of shells of buildings still there. But as this places relies on plonkers like me (tourists) to keep going they haven’t wasted anytime rebuilding the whole place. You still see interesting bits like a

hollowed out 7 eleven that some guy has a erected a make shift book shop inside but generally business is back to normal. Diving is the big business here and every other building is a dive shop filled with people wasting valuable holiday time sitting exams for their Padi. Lots are the bars are filled with people who have come back from their dive during the day and regaling riveting stories like "Dude, I was like 10 meters down and I like saw this fish and it like totally swam close to me and I was like No Way!" ho hum (you know my theory on diving right blog fans ;) ). However I did give snorkeling another try and I will admit it was mildly enjoyable if not generally uncomfortable.

The girls I’m with weren’t really feeling the vibe most nights when we went out, so they would head back after dinner leaving me to cruise the town by myself.


'Are you calling my drink a puff?'

Its proved my fears wrong every time though in that every night I go out on my own I always end up chatting to someone and having a good crack. Watched Wales vs. England at midnight and was unfortunate enough to be chatting with some cockney boys. They weren’t really into their rugby until they saw how upset I was getting so they gave me a good ribbing when England started dicking on Wales. Gits. Overall though met some good people, met another Thai person with a humorous name (Poo), and saw the best fireshow so far on my trip. Nice, er, wildlife too ;)

Speaking of wildlife I had an evening where I was both unlucky yet lucky. Walking along to the girls hut I managed to tread on a snake (yes, a frickin snake! Can you believe that!). Luckily it didn’t give a shit and carried on his slithery way. Then minutes later walking on the beach I trod bare foot onto a big 2 pronged bit of glass but was lucky again as it didn’t cut me at all. Luck ran out getting onto the boat though as I totally misjudged where the seat was and went arse over shit.


'A dark hour for Mr Sparm'

Right ho. Farewell to Raechel, she headed back to Manchester to start her new life (good luck with that sweetheart, you knows you can do it!) just left with me and Diana. Only just realised that she’s Diana and I’m Spencer. Diana Spencer, arf. Next up....you guessed it another island. Ko Lanta.

Phenom Penn , Cambodia

Firstly, its fairwell to Nick and Dave (Homlesey and Docker) as they have now left for Oz or New Zealand via Singapore. So if you're reading this guys; Nick, good luck getting the cosh through customs in Berlin and go easy on those poor Germans, its not their fault. Holmer, don't eat all the valium at once and get out of bed once in a while you lazy bastard. If I dont see you in Oz or NZ then I guess a chaotic night in Upton will be our next meeting.

Right, goodbyes over with, back to Cambodia. We (Me, Raechel and Diana, yes Ive got female company for a change) took another torturous bus ride for 6 hours to Phenn Phom (I have pronounced this is numerous ways and probably spelt it wrong too). Same, same, bumpy bumpy ride through the country but luckily I managed to get some shut eye this time (thank you valium!) which was a good job because we had the added bonus of a TV on the bus blaring out Cambodian video Karaoke, an unbelievably, intolarable viewing I can tell you.

Upon arriaval at the "bus station" its the similar situation of puttin one foot on terra firma and a dozen or so taxi drivers giving it the old "Where you go? You want tuk tuk? Where you stay? Hello mister" etc, etc, so we pick a place and pile in. Very basic but has a lovely resteraunt (one day Ill get it right :) ) with sunset views over the lake:

So, Phenom Penn is the capital of Cambodia and probably best known for its terrible and very recent history. I knew diddly squat about Cambodia let alone its history so this was a good chance to catch up. If you want to find out for yourselves check:

The Killing Fields

but in a nutshell, Communist leader Pol Pot, took over the city and the country and got stuck into a nice bit of genocide getting everyone to work pratically as slaves doing falming at the same time as starving them to death. Anyone with a remote bit of intelligence (doctors, teachers, students etc) or links to westeners were shipped off to S21, a school turned into a prison and tortured for information then murdered and buried in a mass grave. The mass graves became known as the Killing Fields. So, visiting the killing fields and S21 in the same day is a really lovely day out.

The Killing Fields has a load of dug out pieces of earth where they dicovered all the dead bodies of the common people. Nearly 9000 bodies were found at this one site and there are a load more mass graves yet to be exuhmed this day. There is also an erected building in the middle where a massive cabinet containing all the skulls of the dead are stored. Im guessing they dont want people to forget the atrosities and it bloody works. Then after that we go to S21, the school turned into a prison turned into a museam. An errily and equally as grim place. From outside it looks quite nice. A multi-tiered school with palm trees and lots of open spaces. However, peer into one of the many rooms and you'll find a sole steel bed, complete with shackles under a blunt photo of the tortured dead body found on it. Nice. Then a big room filled with all the mug shots of all the prisoners that were killed. Very unpleasant looking at a wall of faces looking back on you knowing they were all tortured and murdered. Lots of graphic photos of mutilated and starved corpses too and some crude oil paintings of an 'artists impression' of the torturing in progress. Then, a corridor with a wall of wooden prison cells to walk through. It made it all the more creepy looking at the graffiti on the walls where the kids in the school (when it was a school) had done drawings of cartoon cowboys from the 60's (All this terriblness happened between 1975 and 1979 folks) so it kinda hits home how recent this all happened. Towards the end there is a room with photos of all the Communist leaders at the time including the big boy Pol Pott. Some of the more ill-literate previos visitors to the museam had vented their anger and frustration by defacing the photo with such witisisms as "Cunt" and "Fat Fucker" along with lots of Cambodian scrall too. But the more perservierent vistitors can find a book to write down comments. There was also a wall which appeared to be a host for visitors graffiti. Most of it was filled with things like "How can this happen?!?" and "Never forget!". Then you see "This is Communism. Go U.S.A!!!" with a load of other bits hanging off it slagging off America and the occasional dicks that reside within. Amongst all the peace messages and USA flaming there was a little beauty that I spotted that shone through; "Cymru am byth" (Wales is great). Probably not the most appropriate, sensitive or even relavent thing to write on a wall in a museum dedicated to the torture and mass genocide of an Asian country by an evil Communist leader, but it did raise a smile on my face through all the grimness. Good to see Wales had its finest ammassadors out that day.

After a double 'Whammy!' of depressing viewing, we had cleverily organised one final trip of the day to visit an orphanage to instill some hope into our hearts. And Im so glad we did. It was great. We just turned up out of blue and started mucking about with kids. And its so amazing to see such grattitude. They absolutley love you and just run up to you and grab onto you. If kids were like that in schools in the UK id be a teacher. Being honest, Ive not had much experience with kids (appart from my wonderful nephew) so I was a little nervous going into a school full off 'em as I had no idea what to do. But it kinda came off naturally. I just turned into a kid myself and sat myself down and taught a kid how to draw Garfield. Within seconds I had about 6 kids all round me watching my every move and making their own interpretations of my Garfield. Outside there are smaller kids (3 - 5 years) bollocking about in various states of nakedness. Some of the older kids wanted me to play football with them. For all those whove seen me play football, this was a great way to show myself up being beaten by a load of 8 year olds so I managed to persuade them for a bit of one on one basketball. The little bastards still managed to beat me though going through my legs and dodging past me. Got one up on them though as I could slam dunk and they weren't tall enough (yeah, now whose laughing son, eh). Raechel, who does hip hop dancing lessons for street kids back in Manchester, managed to get pratically the whole school mimicking her dance routine. It was really up-lifting see all these kids having a whale of time from something so simple that we gave them. Many of these kids had been raped, abused or had HIV so it was so nice just give to these kids. After a very pro-longed goodbye to the kids we left with happy hearts. We'd been from death to life in the peroid of 6 hours.

To top off our goodwilling we went out that night to a resteraunt that was staffed by street kids (kinda like Jamie Olivers Kitchen back home). However, Raechel got the Bangkok belly halfway through and spent the next 24 hours throwing up. Food was good though.

So that was Cambodia. I remained sober for 3 nights which is a new record! Didnt last though. There is a term out here in travellers world known as 'Flash-packers'. These are people who are travelling the world but not really roughing it too much and generally go about their tours as an extended package holiday. I am definately a flashpacker. When faced with the option of getting a hellish bus trip for over 18 hours to get to Bangkok for a fiver or fly in 1 hour for 60 quid you know what option Im going for! I think doing travelling after working for nearly five years has put me in a different frame of mind. Im used to my comfort and its hard to let it go. I have stayed in some shitholes mind but I do tend to grumble a lot.

To finish off my Asia trip before I move on to Oz I needed another beach fix. So Im now back in Thailand on Phi Phi island where they filmed James Bond and the Beach.

Where we're staying (a shed, basically, grumble grumble), you need a taxi boat to get to anything like shops, ATMs or restraunts so its pretty remote. Got full blotto last night and managed to get a boat home somehow though.

For those who like reading meaning into their lives, which Ive found myself doing more and more on this trip, check this; using a urinal wondering why your feet are getting wet, you discover there is no plumbing pipes and you're basically pissing onto your feet then you read a bit of graffiti on the wall 'Enjoy yourself. You're having the time of your life'.

Work it out blog fans.