Who can believe it. The crocodile hunter is gone. It's a tradgedy! Man, that guy was a bloddy fruit-loop, but a pretty clever one, whatever will happen to the crocodiles now? I bet they're crying real crocodile tears.
And Brocky too. I am still placing bets on who will make up the trifecta. My money is on the next great aussie icon to go being ray or bert with rove as the black horse.
So two more sleep before Rikki and I are off to germany. Fantastic. I've bought myself a new camera so I am all happy now. did i mention how my camera died in the arse halfway through my last hols? so no spain photos and not a lot of france ones either. but i have put up a few on the photo site and some photos of my b'day. so check them out http://www.flickr.com/photos/kellys_phab_fotos/
Thursday, September 21, 2006
Thursday, September 14, 2006
happy birthday to meeeeee
this week was back to work. but, not for too long as Rikki and I will be off to oktoberfest in 3 weeks. this week we went and had a drink and got our oktoberfest t-shirts off tim the tourman. we had one stein each and we were half hammered. i said 'rikki, we're gonna have to practise before we get to germany or we're gonna die!'.
so friday, as it was my b'day as, was some fairly decent practice. friday night, i organised drinks at the quays, which is the pub that sponsors my footy team. so a few people turned up and i had a large mixutre or shooters and strawpedos and decided to show everyone my head-banging and air guitar moves. damn, i had a sore neck in the morning, but miraculously, no hangover! successful birthday i think.
but it sounds like the girls in geelong had just as big a night to celebrate my b'day and caseys.
Happy Birthday Casey!!!!!!!!
They even invited me a long! Take a look.
Don't i look hot. With the stripy red stockings and being 3 ft tall, I kinda look like a tart astro-boy!
Last night I went to my first music. And I've only been in London a year! Anyway, after and hour and a half buggering about on stinky hot tubes and walking halfway across the city centre because some selfish cow threw herself on the train tracks and stopped the tubes running, i went with rikki and some of her friends to see The Producers. I'd never seen the movie so it was cool, didn't know what was going to happen. It was so funny and the singing and stuff was great. We were up in the balcony, but that was cool, i had the little binoculars so i could perve on the people in the stalls, and we could see everything because we were in the centre and not too far back. It was good fun, I am keen to go again, I want to see The Lion King and Monty Python's Spamalot. I'm sure it will be a classic.
Oh. Nearly forgot. I told work this week that I want to finish up and go travelling. So I am going to finish up at the end of october and then take off travelling for 4 months. I am so excited!
Anyway, hopefully will have some holiday and b'day snaps up soon.
See ya
so friday, as it was my b'day as, was some fairly decent practice. friday night, i organised drinks at the quays, which is the pub that sponsors my footy team. so a few people turned up and i had a large mixutre or shooters and strawpedos and decided to show everyone my head-banging and air guitar moves. damn, i had a sore neck in the morning, but miraculously, no hangover! successful birthday i think.
but it sounds like the girls in geelong had just as big a night to celebrate my b'day and caseys.
Happy Birthday Casey!!!!!!!!
They even invited me a long! Take a look.
Don't i look hot. With the stripy red stockings and being 3 ft tall, I kinda look like a tart astro-boy!
Last night I went to my first music. And I've only been in London a year! Anyway, after and hour and a half buggering about on stinky hot tubes and walking halfway across the city centre because some selfish cow threw herself on the train tracks and stopped the tubes running, i went with rikki and some of her friends to see The Producers. I'd never seen the movie so it was cool, didn't know what was going to happen. It was so funny and the singing and stuff was great. We were up in the balcony, but that was cool, i had the little binoculars so i could perve on the people in the stalls, and we could see everything because we were in the centre and not too far back. It was good fun, I am keen to go again, I want to see The Lion King and Monty Python's Spamalot. I'm sure it will be a classic.
Oh. Nearly forgot. I told work this week that I want to finish up and go travelling. So I am going to finish up at the end of october and then take off travelling for 4 months. I am so excited!
Anyway, hopefully will have some holiday and b'day snaps up soon.
See ya
Friday, September 08, 2006
La Tomatina
Now for part two - Valencia and Barcelona.
Valencia was great fun. The tour I went on was a fucking shambles, but everyone on the tour still managed to have an awesome time. The hostel was nice but the men who ran it were total tossers, they didn't even ask me my name when I checked in. Then when we got home at 3am after a night out in some little town watching some lady getting an award for what I was sure was mullet of the year, they stopped everyone and wouldn't let anyone in until they had matched them to their passport. So me and the guy in my room crawled past the window and snuck into our room. Then at 6am a heap of guys came into our room yelling and carrying on all pissed off because they too had booked and paid for their tour, but when they got back to the hostel there were no beds in the whole hostel. So they kicked up a fuss and the old dudes running the place took them into every room turning on lights and waking up everyone to show them there were no rooms. But by the time they got to our room it was time to get up and go to La Tomatina so it didn't matter that they didn't have beds!
So 6.30 everyone on the tour gets to the station. ... everyone except the tour guide, who slept in til 8.00 (I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact I hd her drinking tequila ay 2am). Everyone was so pissed when she got there. Then because we had to catch the later train there was no room to sit, not even on the floor, it was so crowded. I actually fell asleep standing up! And then I was like 'crap, I hope no-one saw', but a few people did and were laying shit on me later.
Anyway, la tomatina was so cool. You just can't describe what a surreal event it is. I definately recommend it to everybody. It starts you walk down to the tomato throwing street which is in the centre of bunol which is in a valley, so you walk down these little cobblestoned alleys where there are bars on the street selling sangria and beer ( fantastic hangover cure!) and there is music and all the local have tables set up outside where they are sitting having brunch and watching everyone go past.
When you get to the little street all the walls are covered in plastic and there are about 30,000 crowded in just waiting. It all starts with a gunshot. Everyone starts cheering and singing songs. But no tomatoes. You can't throw tomatoes until someone has scaled the greasy pole and got the ham off the nail.
Watching the pole is like watching a footy match, everyone is cheering and booing. Guys are going up the pole and stepping on eachothers heads and stuff to get higher. However, the locals don't want any tourist or girls getting the ham, so if they go too high, they grab them by the feet and rip them down. It ends up taking about half an hour to get the ham, but after that, that is when the tomato throwing starts.
But it's not just tomatoes. La Tomatina is officially a 'no shirts' event so all the guys start ripping off each others shirts and sometimes getting into the girls as well. But it was pretty easy to stay out of the rough patches so I managed to keep my shirt on. As well as the shirts being thrown around there is a truck with half a dozen high pressure hoses spraying everyone and then a truck drives through the middle of street dumping tomatoes in piles. It is so fun, everyone crowding back to get out of the way of the truck and then going mental throwing whatever they can pick up at whoever gets in the way. But to soon it is all over, and despite being drenched from head to foot and covered in tomatoes, I hadn't had enough.
So I wandered back up to the station with a few aussie chicks from the tour. On the way back all the locals stand outside with garden hoses cleaning people off. So we sat in the sunshine drying off, having a beer and watching all the tomato drenched people go by.
After that we headed back to the hostel for a shower and a nap before dinner. Dinner was great, eveyone from the tour was so hyped and the food was awesome and the sangria even better. After the food we left the restaurant and went to a salsa bar where all the retirees go to salsa. So I was having a dance when some one comes in and says 'emma (the tour guide) is outside with the owner of the restaurant and the police'. The tour people hadn't paid for our meal and we owe the €700. We go outside and emma is in tears and being told they are about to arrest her if she doesn't pay up! I couldn't believe it! Never, ever do anything with Wanderer's World they are just fuckwits! Anyway, emma gave them €200 and rang her boss who said he's sort it in the morning. So she didn't get arrested and we didn't have to fork out for it, so we were all happy and went off to the pub for more sangrias. I don't know what time I got home, but I woke in the morning with vague recollections of sitting outside the pub drinking sangrias with an aussie and american guy from the tour and this welsh guy on his stag night dressed in a little flowery bikini and pink pompoms on his head. Also memories of it raining and stomping around in puddles and swimming in a fountain. It was all good fun.
So after a bit of a sleep in, ie sleeping until the old guy came in and yelled at us that it was time to leave, I went to the beach with a few guys from the tour. I love the beach. I have missed the beach. Valencia beaches aren't quite perth beaches, but they are sandy and swimable so it was good.
So onward from Valencia. A couple of the guys from the tour were heading to Barcelona for the weekend, so I decided to tag along with them. We ended up getting to Barcelona about 10.30 and had planned nothing. The hostels were full so we managed to check into a hotel. Then we went out for a quiet drink. In Spain you cannot have a quiet drink, but it's not your fault. They don't pour properly. They just fill up your glass to half way with the spirit and top up with mixer. Two drinks and your gone. So we ended up dancing till closing time. By this time Jonno had picked up as many chicks as possible and was with this nutty little spanish chick who was leading the way when we left the club. We followed her down a few little alleys where a door opened and a big burly bouncers herded us in and down the stairs. We were in an underground club! It was so funny, the music was down really low and the security were running around going 'shhh' to people. It was fun though I got chatting to a guy with a huge mullet - boy they love their mullets in spain - and a gay dancer who was telling me all the best places to go in 'barthelona'. Anyway, Jonno comes up swearing because the little spanish chick had bit his toungue. We turn around and sean is making out with her. Then the club shut and we left. This chick was crazy, after making out with jonno and sean and trying with aiden she then started chasing me! She was saying 'kylie, treize' and pointing at me and her an jonno. and i was 'oh god run away'. then she disappears with sean again and he appear yelling, 'i hate that dirty slapper she bit me!' and he had a big bite mark in his tongue. then he disappears with her again and comes back and is swearing again because she threw dirt in his mouth. so funny.
geez, i'm getting lazy again. the last couple of days in barca were much the say, drinking, seeing the sites and some beach. we saw some of the gaudi buildings, such random stuff. the front doens't seem to match the back and it has all this cazy shit going on. probably my favourite would be the big blue one, but i can't remember what it was called.
well, now it is back to work this week. but no rest for the wicked and as it is my b'day this weekend it is sure to be a big one. so will let you all know how it goes. i'm going to get a new camera this week, so hopefully i will have some photos. did i tell you that my camera died when i was in paris. i was so pissed, but it had been going for a while. so now i am going to get a good one. yay.
Valencia was great fun. The tour I went on was a fucking shambles, but everyone on the tour still managed to have an awesome time. The hostel was nice but the men who ran it were total tossers, they didn't even ask me my name when I checked in. Then when we got home at 3am after a night out in some little town watching some lady getting an award for what I was sure was mullet of the year, they stopped everyone and wouldn't let anyone in until they had matched them to their passport. So me and the guy in my room crawled past the window and snuck into our room. Then at 6am a heap of guys came into our room yelling and carrying on all pissed off because they too had booked and paid for their tour, but when they got back to the hostel there were no beds in the whole hostel. So they kicked up a fuss and the old dudes running the place took them into every room turning on lights and waking up everyone to show them there were no rooms. But by the time they got to our room it was time to get up and go to La Tomatina so it didn't matter that they didn't have beds!
So 6.30 everyone on the tour gets to the station. ... everyone except the tour guide, who slept in til 8.00 (I'm sure it had nothing to do with the fact I hd her drinking tequila ay 2am). Everyone was so pissed when she got there. Then because we had to catch the later train there was no room to sit, not even on the floor, it was so crowded. I actually fell asleep standing up! And then I was like 'crap, I hope no-one saw', but a few people did and were laying shit on me later.
Anyway, la tomatina was so cool. You just can't describe what a surreal event it is. I definately recommend it to everybody. It starts you walk down to the tomato throwing street which is in the centre of bunol which is in a valley, so you walk down these little cobblestoned alleys where there are bars on the street selling sangria and beer ( fantastic hangover cure!) and there is music and all the local have tables set up outside where they are sitting having brunch and watching everyone go past.
When you get to the little street all the walls are covered in plastic and there are about 30,000 crowded in just waiting. It all starts with a gunshot. Everyone starts cheering and singing songs. But no tomatoes. You can't throw tomatoes until someone has scaled the greasy pole and got the ham off the nail.
Watching the pole is like watching a footy match, everyone is cheering and booing. Guys are going up the pole and stepping on eachothers heads and stuff to get higher. However, the locals don't want any tourist or girls getting the ham, so if they go too high, they grab them by the feet and rip them down. It ends up taking about half an hour to get the ham, but after that, that is when the tomato throwing starts.
But it's not just tomatoes. La Tomatina is officially a 'no shirts' event so all the guys start ripping off each others shirts and sometimes getting into the girls as well. But it was pretty easy to stay out of the rough patches so I managed to keep my shirt on. As well as the shirts being thrown around there is a truck with half a dozen high pressure hoses spraying everyone and then a truck drives through the middle of street dumping tomatoes in piles. It is so fun, everyone crowding back to get out of the way of the truck and then going mental throwing whatever they can pick up at whoever gets in the way. But to soon it is all over, and despite being drenched from head to foot and covered in tomatoes, I hadn't had enough.
So I wandered back up to the station with a few aussie chicks from the tour. On the way back all the locals stand outside with garden hoses cleaning people off. So we sat in the sunshine drying off, having a beer and watching all the tomato drenched people go by.
After that we headed back to the hostel for a shower and a nap before dinner. Dinner was great, eveyone from the tour was so hyped and the food was awesome and the sangria even better. After the food we left the restaurant and went to a salsa bar where all the retirees go to salsa. So I was having a dance when some one comes in and says 'emma (the tour guide) is outside with the owner of the restaurant and the police'. The tour people hadn't paid for our meal and we owe the €700. We go outside and emma is in tears and being told they are about to arrest her if she doesn't pay up! I couldn't believe it! Never, ever do anything with Wanderer's World they are just fuckwits! Anyway, emma gave them €200 and rang her boss who said he's sort it in the morning. So she didn't get arrested and we didn't have to fork out for it, so we were all happy and went off to the pub for more sangrias. I don't know what time I got home, but I woke in the morning with vague recollections of sitting outside the pub drinking sangrias with an aussie and american guy from the tour and this welsh guy on his stag night dressed in a little flowery bikini and pink pompoms on his head. Also memories of it raining and stomping around in puddles and swimming in a fountain. It was all good fun.
So after a bit of a sleep in, ie sleeping until the old guy came in and yelled at us that it was time to leave, I went to the beach with a few guys from the tour. I love the beach. I have missed the beach. Valencia beaches aren't quite perth beaches, but they are sandy and swimable so it was good.
So onward from Valencia. A couple of the guys from the tour were heading to Barcelona for the weekend, so I decided to tag along with them. We ended up getting to Barcelona about 10.30 and had planned nothing. The hostels were full so we managed to check into a hotel. Then we went out for a quiet drink. In Spain you cannot have a quiet drink, but it's not your fault. They don't pour properly. They just fill up your glass to half way with the spirit and top up with mixer. Two drinks and your gone. So we ended up dancing till closing time. By this time Jonno had picked up as many chicks as possible and was with this nutty little spanish chick who was leading the way when we left the club. We followed her down a few little alleys where a door opened and a big burly bouncers herded us in and down the stairs. We were in an underground club! It was so funny, the music was down really low and the security were running around going 'shhh' to people. It was fun though I got chatting to a guy with a huge mullet - boy they love their mullets in spain - and a gay dancer who was telling me all the best places to go in 'barthelona'. Anyway, Jonno comes up swearing because the little spanish chick had bit his toungue. We turn around and sean is making out with her. Then the club shut and we left. This chick was crazy, after making out with jonno and sean and trying with aiden she then started chasing me! She was saying 'kylie, treize' and pointing at me and her an jonno. and i was 'oh god run away'. then she disappears with sean again and he appear yelling, 'i hate that dirty slapper she bit me!' and he had a big bite mark in his tongue. then he disappears with her again and comes back and is swearing again because she threw dirt in his mouth. so funny.
geez, i'm getting lazy again. the last couple of days in barca were much the say, drinking, seeing the sites and some beach. we saw some of the gaudi buildings, such random stuff. the front doens't seem to match the back and it has all this cazy shit going on. probably my favourite would be the big blue one, but i can't remember what it was called.
well, now it is back to work this week. but no rest for the wicked and as it is my b'day this weekend it is sure to be a big one. so will let you all know how it goes. i'm going to get a new camera this week, so hopefully i will have some photos. did i tell you that my camera died when i was in paris. i was so pissed, but it had been going for a while. so now i am going to get a good one. yay.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
crazy days
howdy,
this week i am back at work, and disappointingly no-one has done my work for me while i was away. damn. but it's good to get back into it, and it's only three weeks before rikki and i are off to oktoberfest which will fantastic.
but right now i will tell you about the couple of crazy weeks i had on these holidays. i went to paris, marseille, then valencia for la tomatina and lastly barcelona for the weekend. i had so much happen, i just kept thinking this one crazy holiday, both good and bad crazy. anyway, i'll start with paris.
paris was great fun. i pretty much had new people to hang out with everyday which was cool. the first night i went out with this aussie chick and this odd gay asian guy from liverpool and we went to a gay club where none of the men were gay because it was 'ladies night'. so dana the aussie chick picked up at least 3 guys, the gay dude managed to find another gay dude and i met this lovely parisian boy who kindly took me home on the back of his scooter.
riding around the streets of paris at 4am holding onto some hot guy and i was thinking, 'i love paris, this city is great!'.
despite the all-nighter i was up bright and early for some sight-seeing. i ran into a guy who was also staying at the hostel and had no friends, so the two of us went together to stand in the queue for the eiffel tower for 2 hours. funny, i always thought the eiffel tower was black. but it's not. it's poo-brown colour. even though it is poo-brown colour it is a very impressive structure. it is just massive and there are no other real large buildings around it so it just looks so massive. and the view is pretty spectacular, paris is such a huge city, and so old, but much prettier than london.
so after the eiffel tower i went and saw the arc de triumphe which is pretty cool. that's the big archy thing in the middle of the huge round-about in all the movies. and then wandered down les champs elyesees (shit - i've spelt that wrong) which is basically a big street with lots of expensive shops. kinda pretty, but i'm not really a brand baby so i wasn't real fussed by it. it was better at night i think when all the lights were on and the clubs and pubs were open.
that night when i got back to the hostel, dana was keen to go out again. i was yeah ok, but i don't want to spend much and she was 'that's ok, we'll just go to these quality bars i've got on my list and we'll wait for rich men to come and buy us drinks'. i was a bit, but i don't want to hang out talking to dirty old men just for free drinks, but she was come on, so i said yeah. but i was right, it was all dirty old men and when some guys came and bought us drinks dana was happy as a pig in shit chatting to them, but i was getting bored, because as you all know i am the best dancer in the world and would rather be out in a club pulling some quality moves and impressing the audience.
crap, i just started writing out the rest of the story of what a fruit loop she was, but it's a bit boring to read, it's piss-funny when you tell though, you you'll just have to ask me. anyway, after going out with her a few more times and i'm not sure whether i was more shocked, thoroughly amused or horrified by her antics. on my last night in paris i came back to the hostel to find she had left a note on my door to meet her. i showed it to the guys i was hanging out with and they nearly wet their pants laughing, they were going 'oh my god, she's crazy'. so we didn't go meet her and go to her special bars on her list. we ended up at a little irish bar with a bad band and about 6 people. it was much more fun.
well, the other days in paris, i got some good site-seeing in. me and antonio (peruvian guy in my room in the hostel) went on a walking tour of montmatre which was cool. we saw a statue of a man stuck in a wall and this really awesome cemetery and we ended up at le sacre coeur and then walking through the markets where all the struggling artist ply their trade. i so wished i was rich so i could have bought some of the paintings, but i did get a water-colour done of yours truly which is pretty cool. then antonio and i went and had a big arse lunch including lots of red wine, snails and some fantastic ice-cream.
the next day i did some touring around the traps with antonio and 2 others guys from the hostel, tiago from brazil and martin from poland. we went to the louvre which was awesome, i took some photos of some cool paintings. my favourite was the one where this lady had just been walking along the street when a lion comes up and grabs her baby and her boob falls out. hilarious.
after the lourve antonio had to go so i was left with tiago and martin which was funny. i think my main problem was i was hungover, but for some reason i could not keep up with their conversation. english was the second language for both of them so you think i would be the one translating between them. but no. they could understand each other fine, but i couldn't understand either of them and if i spoke they would both just start giving eachother funny looks and laughing at me because neither of them could understand me!
then tiago was talking about going to 'invalides' and i was what is it? and he was telling me where they take the sick people. and i was 'a hospital, why they fuck do we want to go to the hospital?' they didn't explain to me that invalides is a massive mansion that was built by some king or something for wounded soldiers returning for war. they just told me that we were going there so they could leave me there. smart-arses.
but the next day martin left so it was just me and tiago. and i was hungover again. lucky i'm so fantastic at charades or i never would have been able to have a conversation with him. although i do have to admit, i think it was more my dumbness, his english wasn't so bad. at one stage he was asking me 'what do you call it when you are in bed but not sleeping?' and i'm like huh? and he's 'you know, when you horizontal, not vertical. like when sleeping, but not sleeping' and i'm thinking 'is he talking about sex?' and then he says 'like i am now' b/c we were laying on some benches in a park. so then he gave up. about five minutes later my brain goes 'der' and i ask 'did you meaning laying down? like if you're not standing up you can sit down or you lay down?' and he was yeah. i am dumb.
anyway, that was my adventures in gay pari. after that i caught a train to marseille which is officially the worst place of my holidays. it's actually a beautiful city and it was nice and warm and beachy. i went diving, christ it was so cold i was getting ice-cream headaches on the way down and couldn't feel my toes for an hour after we came up.
but the reason marseille was not my favourite place is because it was so sleazy. there just didn't seem to be a lot of chicks around, especially after dark. and the men would just stand in groups in the street and stare at you and even though they took up the whole pavement they wouldn't move for you. i walked two blocks to the internet cafe and had 3 old guys stop me in the street to ask me to come for a drink with them. then i went to friol, an island there, very pretty, about the size of rotto. so i was walking around and stop to look at this building and there is this old guy who is about 50 and he gets chatting to me, telling me about frioul and marseille and the churches and stuff. and he says 'i'm happy to have some to practise my english with, can i walk around the island with you.' so i was yeah ok, he was being a good tour-guide and telling me about the place. so off we go around the island. as it turns out, and i wasn't that surprised, he's a dirty old rummy. half way round the island and half way through his bottle of rum, he's forgotten how to speak english and keeps yelling at me in french. so i keep yelling at him 'i don't fucking understand. english! english!' and i am about to just go fuck it and walk off when he sits down and he's trying wave me over to him and his tongue is hanging out. and i think poor old bastard it's a hot day, so i ask 'do you want water?' he says 'no. you come' he waves me over, then he points at my crutch and says 'me lick you' and starts waving his tongue at me. i was like 'oh my god, i don't fucking believe this' and i was gone. like the road-runner there was nothing left but a cloud of dust. and all the while back to the boat i was getting flashbacks to the dodgy baggage handler when i was in rome. please tell me, does this shit happen to anyone else?
so that was marseille.
oh, i'm getting writers cramp. i will fill you in on valencia and barcelona in the next couple of days. it was a jam packed week full of sangria and tomatoes and a fucking shambles of a tour.
this week i am back at work, and disappointingly no-one has done my work for me while i was away. damn. but it's good to get back into it, and it's only three weeks before rikki and i are off to oktoberfest which will fantastic.
but right now i will tell you about the couple of crazy weeks i had on these holidays. i went to paris, marseille, then valencia for la tomatina and lastly barcelona for the weekend. i had so much happen, i just kept thinking this one crazy holiday, both good and bad crazy. anyway, i'll start with paris.
paris was great fun. i pretty much had new people to hang out with everyday which was cool. the first night i went out with this aussie chick and this odd gay asian guy from liverpool and we went to a gay club where none of the men were gay because it was 'ladies night'. so dana the aussie chick picked up at least 3 guys, the gay dude managed to find another gay dude and i met this lovely parisian boy who kindly took me home on the back of his scooter.
riding around the streets of paris at 4am holding onto some hot guy and i was thinking, 'i love paris, this city is great!'.
despite the all-nighter i was up bright and early for some sight-seeing. i ran into a guy who was also staying at the hostel and had no friends, so the two of us went together to stand in the queue for the eiffel tower for 2 hours. funny, i always thought the eiffel tower was black. but it's not. it's poo-brown colour. even though it is poo-brown colour it is a very impressive structure. it is just massive and there are no other real large buildings around it so it just looks so massive. and the view is pretty spectacular, paris is such a huge city, and so old, but much prettier than london.
so after the eiffel tower i went and saw the arc de triumphe which is pretty cool. that's the big archy thing in the middle of the huge round-about in all the movies. and then wandered down les champs elyesees (shit - i've spelt that wrong) which is basically a big street with lots of expensive shops. kinda pretty, but i'm not really a brand baby so i wasn't real fussed by it. it was better at night i think when all the lights were on and the clubs and pubs were open.
that night when i got back to the hostel, dana was keen to go out again. i was yeah ok, but i don't want to spend much and she was 'that's ok, we'll just go to these quality bars i've got on my list and we'll wait for rich men to come and buy us drinks'. i was a bit, but i don't want to hang out talking to dirty old men just for free drinks, but she was come on, so i said yeah. but i was right, it was all dirty old men and when some guys came and bought us drinks dana was happy as a pig in shit chatting to them, but i was getting bored, because as you all know i am the best dancer in the world and would rather be out in a club pulling some quality moves and impressing the audience.
crap, i just started writing out the rest of the story of what a fruit loop she was, but it's a bit boring to read, it's piss-funny when you tell though, you you'll just have to ask me. anyway, after going out with her a few more times and i'm not sure whether i was more shocked, thoroughly amused or horrified by her antics. on my last night in paris i came back to the hostel to find she had left a note on my door to meet her. i showed it to the guys i was hanging out with and they nearly wet their pants laughing, they were going 'oh my god, she's crazy'. so we didn't go meet her and go to her special bars on her list. we ended up at a little irish bar with a bad band and about 6 people. it was much more fun.
well, the other days in paris, i got some good site-seeing in. me and antonio (peruvian guy in my room in the hostel) went on a walking tour of montmatre which was cool. we saw a statue of a man stuck in a wall and this really awesome cemetery and we ended up at le sacre coeur and then walking through the markets where all the struggling artist ply their trade. i so wished i was rich so i could have bought some of the paintings, but i did get a water-colour done of yours truly which is pretty cool. then antonio and i went and had a big arse lunch including lots of red wine, snails and some fantastic ice-cream.
the next day i did some touring around the traps with antonio and 2 others guys from the hostel, tiago from brazil and martin from poland. we went to the louvre which was awesome, i took some photos of some cool paintings. my favourite was the one where this lady had just been walking along the street when a lion comes up and grabs her baby and her boob falls out. hilarious.
after the lourve antonio had to go so i was left with tiago and martin which was funny. i think my main problem was i was hungover, but for some reason i could not keep up with their conversation. english was the second language for both of them so you think i would be the one translating between them. but no. they could understand each other fine, but i couldn't understand either of them and if i spoke they would both just start giving eachother funny looks and laughing at me because neither of them could understand me!
then tiago was talking about going to 'invalides' and i was what is it? and he was telling me where they take the sick people. and i was 'a hospital, why they fuck do we want to go to the hospital?' they didn't explain to me that invalides is a massive mansion that was built by some king or something for wounded soldiers returning for war. they just told me that we were going there so they could leave me there. smart-arses.
but the next day martin left so it was just me and tiago. and i was hungover again. lucky i'm so fantastic at charades or i never would have been able to have a conversation with him. although i do have to admit, i think it was more my dumbness, his english wasn't so bad. at one stage he was asking me 'what do you call it when you are in bed but not sleeping?' and i'm like huh? and he's 'you know, when you horizontal, not vertical. like when sleeping, but not sleeping' and i'm thinking 'is he talking about sex?' and then he says 'like i am now' b/c we were laying on some benches in a park. so then he gave up. about five minutes later my brain goes 'der' and i ask 'did you meaning laying down? like if you're not standing up you can sit down or you lay down?' and he was yeah. i am dumb.
anyway, that was my adventures in gay pari. after that i caught a train to marseille which is officially the worst place of my holidays. it's actually a beautiful city and it was nice and warm and beachy. i went diving, christ it was so cold i was getting ice-cream headaches on the way down and couldn't feel my toes for an hour after we came up.
but the reason marseille was not my favourite place is because it was so sleazy. there just didn't seem to be a lot of chicks around, especially after dark. and the men would just stand in groups in the street and stare at you and even though they took up the whole pavement they wouldn't move for you. i walked two blocks to the internet cafe and had 3 old guys stop me in the street to ask me to come for a drink with them. then i went to friol, an island there, very pretty, about the size of rotto. so i was walking around and stop to look at this building and there is this old guy who is about 50 and he gets chatting to me, telling me about frioul and marseille and the churches and stuff. and he says 'i'm happy to have some to practise my english with, can i walk around the island with you.' so i was yeah ok, he was being a good tour-guide and telling me about the place. so off we go around the island. as it turns out, and i wasn't that surprised, he's a dirty old rummy. half way round the island and half way through his bottle of rum, he's forgotten how to speak english and keeps yelling at me in french. so i keep yelling at him 'i don't fucking understand. english! english!' and i am about to just go fuck it and walk off when he sits down and he's trying wave me over to him and his tongue is hanging out. and i think poor old bastard it's a hot day, so i ask 'do you want water?' he says 'no. you come' he waves me over, then he points at my crutch and says 'me lick you' and starts waving his tongue at me. i was like 'oh my god, i don't fucking believe this' and i was gone. like the road-runner there was nothing left but a cloud of dust. and all the while back to the boat i was getting flashbacks to the dodgy baggage handler when i was in rome. please tell me, does this shit happen to anyone else?
so that was marseille.
oh, i'm getting writers cramp. i will fill you in on valencia and barcelona in the next couple of days. it was a jam packed week full of sangria and tomatoes and a fucking shambles of a tour.
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