Istanbul. You are shiny like sunny!

Istanbul was strange. I was forever being regarded as somewhat of a freak by the Turkish people. Some may remember me regaling the story of being stared at for half an hour or so by 20 odd Laotians in Loas. Well in Istanbul there weren't any long unbroken stares, but a lot of double takes, short unbroken stares and at one point a photo session with headdressed turkish schoolgirls. Seems like spiky, messy hair is a rarity in Istanbul. Like the use of deodorant. Funny that, because they have public baths to keep clean. Why not a quick spray with a masking scent... I don't really know.

Oh and the turkish bath, the Hamam, let me tell you being slapped, stretched and lathered up by a semi naked moustachioed man is a lot more funn that it sounds. Just don't say your from Sydney or Australia. They slap you with greater force if you do. Unless you are into that. This is Anna, Kathrin, me and Richard after a Hamam and into the waterpipe! Once again, excuse the hair.

Oh i found out the hard way that the Blue Mosque and the Haghia Sofia are different buuldings. Because of ignorance (i have this in spades), I wandered the streets at 4:30am in all the wrong places. Cause my directions were based on the Blue Mosque and not the Haghia Sofia.

This rabbit Nicole is holding told me my fortune. Basically said i don't look after my health because I abuse various substances. I've now appointed that rabbit my financial, personal and spiritual advisor. I am currently being investigated by the RSPCA for having relations with rodents. The rabbit is telling me to plead not guilty.

This is the Cistern... Built to supply water to the Sultans palace, but instead it is now home to the worlds fattest goldfish. Fascinating history... if i could remember it. Truth is, i spent most of my time in Istanbul out every night with the various people staying at the hostel. And most of the days aimlessly wandering the streets patting stray cats and scratching my bed bug bites. I was on such a mission to find a good kebab meal. Alas twas not to be found. That turkish place up near Shoreditch is still the best.

Met alot of great people in Istanbul. You know who you are! And had plenty of wacky Turkish culture. Waterpipes/sheeshas, Garbage Island, Fish sandwiches, Ashtray flavoured Homous, free chocolate, Jack Johnson, Ramadan, Hamams. Tres cool. Bit of a different trip for me. Hardly any sight seeing and alot of just cruising. I could get used to it. And thats all for now...

Croatia - A country with big asses and even bigger pizzas.

Seriously i got no photos of asses, but have a look at the pizza. After getting through two-thirds of it, i could barely amble the 100 odd metres to the hostel. Each step i took, i had to reswallow a mouthful of pizza. Not so delicious the second time round. Reminded me of an all you can eat competition us stupid uni boys had once. I really need to learn from my mistakes. And please forgive the hair. Tigi is shit. Don't use them. For great control of my hair at a reasonable price, I choose PPS Super Goop. It's like viagra for your hair.

And now to asses. Missed a great photo opportunity of a peasant woman dragging a donkey down a hill, through a nice rustic village. The other ass encounter was an entirely different story. At a water mill, we accidentally walked through someones house thinking it was a water mill. As i exited the front door, I was greeted by the sight of a peasant woman, squatting over a stream, skirt around the ankles, underwear no where to be seen (lord why did thee forsaken me?). Anyways.. i was also greeted by an aroma reminiscent of decomposing onions. Felt like someone had smacked me in the face with a bag full of rectums and colons.

But apart from pizzas, donkeys, and onions, Croatia has lots of beaches. Lots of pebbly beaches. Its great cause when you get them in your undies or crack, you just reach in and pull it out. None of this trying to wash it out in the surf business (sometimes you may have to wash the pebble though). There is no surf but the water is truelly amazing. Clearer than my conscience and colder than my demeanor.

And for all those looking for tips, On Mljet Island is a blue grotto/cave thing you can swim through like we did. Or you can pull a leaky boat down and paddle through it. Like we did. Go to Hvar for sunworshipping and drinking with taxi-boat drivers and knife wielding slovenians (don't ask). Dubrovnik for meeting that rare breed of travellers - the Australian, and Plitvice National Park for postcard perfect scenery.

Oh, Plitvice Lakes. Could you get any prettier. So many waterfalls, so many waterfalls yet so few buses. I had to run back a few kms to the car cause we missed the last bus back to the entrance. And i had just eaten a few giant sausages. Again there was much re-digesting of food going on. Blardy.... And to top it off I took a drink from one of the waterfall to try and take a little of Plitvice with me. Instead the microbes took alot of my sausages later that night. Stupid duck faeces.

A great country, friendly people (real friendly, one girl showed us how to make Bambooz, a local drink made of cheap red wine and coke. Tastes like sangria). And to Kate and Beck, next time we'll find the right 'cafe' before they close. And too all those people i met along the way - i'll pay you back next time I see you. I swear ;-)

Wales.... well Madonna anyways

Four of us went to Cardiff, Wales on the weekend. One of us didn't do any driving. Score!

The day started with a simple problem. How many people does it take to fill up a Vauxhall Corsa? if you answered 4 you're right. Me, Dazel, Shane and Claire searched everywhere for the fuel cap release - for a good five to ten minutes! It was by sheer blind luck that we found the key also opened the fuel cap. A combined IQ of 110 (including the gas guy recruited to search) didn't help.

So we go on to Wales, but we didn't actually see anything. Not that i know, i fell asleep as soon as we crossed the border. Opened my eyes and Voila! magically in Cardiff. Picked up our tickets and proceeded to queue. and queue. and queue. For all you men out there, don't come to Cardiff on the prowl. Unless you're after large bovines.

When the gates finally opened, i witnessed my first wilderbeest migration. What a sight! Shane sprinted like a cheetah, and Dazel ran with penguin-like grace into the stampeding herd. I really didn't know what was going on, but since everyone was running I figured, what the hell i'll run too. It wasn't until i was getting crushed up against Dazel that i remembered talk of a "Golden Circle", no not about drawing donuts in the snow, but that the first 3000 would be allowed up to the barriers. We lost Claire at some point, i think she was underneath someones armpit. But we all managed to get in, and got the best seats in the stadium. On the barrier, a few foot away from the catwalk and stage.

I ain't a huge fan of Madonna, but caught the Madge fever of Shane and went berko when she finally came on (probably cause we had to endure a really crap supporting act in the form of Paul Oakenfold. He's shit. And he likes ladyboys). At one point something wet landed on the back of my head, most likely drool from the rabid lesbian pack behind me, but i'll pretend it was a wayward sweat droplet from Madonna. I'll auction it on Ebay.

The concert was so good, i happily endured the B.O guy with bad breath on one side, the lesbian posse foaming at the mouths behind me, and the farting lady on the other side. In the end I didn't see Wales, but I did see whales.

We arrived home at 4am. And I did not an ounce of driving. Gotta have plebs people. Gotta have plebs..

Two men and a inuit walked into a Bath...

9:30am Monday started off very British. Grey and wet. Me and Daz had like a brilliant omelette, know what i mean? Nadine had a coffee and Malboro. So it was that me, my world cup hero and Yul Brynner loaded up our Vauxhall Corsa (with fine Tesco wine for later) and headed off. Driving at 70mph in the rain (thats about 120Kph), I was told a lamed huskie could pull a sled faster than i was driving. What would an eskimo know about cars? apparently more than a gook knows about kayaks.

With Nadine taking over caning it (shut eyes tight so don't know how fast), we were at Stonehenge a short time later, and boy what a sight! it's over 5000 years old, and is so mysterious no-one knows how or who built it. It was even more mysterious for us three as we refused to shell out £5.90 to get in and instead peered at it through cyclone fencing 20 yards away. No i have no idea why Dazel is standing like that and smiling.

Next stop was Wood Henge, Stonehenge's much spurned cousin. Low hopes were held for this henge. And for good reason, the big bad wolf had huffed and puffed and blown it all away, so we were content to play on the cement replacements. Not exactly 5000 years old, not exactly worth vsisitng, but then again not exactly £5.90 either.

Off we trot to Bath... What a perla of a city. Nestled in a little valley, lovely stone buildings and a lovely jugenherbege (thats Deutsch for youth hostel). Alas we didn't stay there, we stayed at the YMCA. Which was very apt cause we found this photo opportunity a little while later. Dazel wanted to take it much further "for art's sake" but i was a little dubious of his real intentions. Especially when he whipped out the Vaseline jar. He says it was for a soft focus effect when rubbed on the lens.. yeah right.

Well apart from sightseeing and photos , the only other thing we did in Bath was shop, eat, save 25% on dinner and avoid a parking ticket. Mmm... what else there was this bridge. And a church and some fountains. So thats's the Henges and Bath.

Just an aside - Fabio Grosso, you diving mamas boy, you suck. Rue the day when you meet Daz in a dark alley way, and he has no Vaseline "for art's sake".

Ich Bin Londoner....

I can't believe it has been four months... and I have not a single photo of something London-y. Some would call it slack. Others would call it slack. Now its a bit funny when you live in London, cause you forget that there is so much to see and do. Mostly because you are looking down, avoiding tripping over homeless people and landing in merde (Which could belong to them for all i know..).

So when it was time to return the favour and play tour guide to Nadine, i took to it with one thing in mind - Avoid being knifed for my camera.

Portobello rd market was first up. Portobello unlike the rest of London is very WHITE. There are no Ninjas and the only black people here are the ones pushing a bike they just "found". The boltcutter in their backpack was a "present". If i buy both, i'd get a discount. The rest of the people here are European and American tourists. "That's like so awesome" and "czeyswki plakisjzyko muzkistyzwka?" and "That'll be 30 pounds please" is the most commonly heard phrases.

Tower bridge. Here you see Nadine trying what most Londoners have already tried. Stealing this giant ball (why? cause it isn't nailed down).

There was a bollywood movie being shot near by "007 - Chicken Madras with Basmati Rice". Unfortunately they had no need for an Oriental or Inuit. Mega stardom will have to wait.

oh and that's me pondering what are the Colonel's eleven secret herbs and spices? (why? cause i haven't nailed them down!).


Tower of London. Once a Fortress, palace, dungeon and now just a toilet for tourists like us. And the best thing? it's free! and what a view (but not for the poor suckers below us).

Chinatown... not much to say. No live fish in dirty green ranks, but yes there is that familiar deliciously ripe "Chinatown" odour as with any other chinatowns. And yes it is probably from the durians on sale.

Well thats all i did of London so far.

Wilkommen Zum Football..


...or something like it. Started this lightning trip on Wednesday after work jetting into Hamburg at 10pm-ish. My eskimo guide Nadine met me at the airport and we were back at hers in no time. Thanks to a highly efficient bus system. I think it was modelled on the London bus system but with literate bus drivers who could read time.

I was starving when i got in, but Halibut Cheek and Loin of Seal was out of season due to it being summer in the Arctic and all. So Nadine dished out exotic Brot and Wurst which is just as good, well almost.

Game day. Ecuador vs Costa Rica. At the gates for the first time in a long time, i was not manhandled or searched by police or security officials. This time it was Nadine's turn. Obviosuly from the company she kept.

While i was in line i ran into these Parramatta EELS supporters. When i asked them about the shitty season they replied in Spanish "Ole Ole Ole Ole, Ecuador, Ecuador". I think it has something to do with Olive Oil delivered to your door.

Inside the stadium, me and Nadine proved quite popular and these two star-struck fans stopped us and requested a photograph. Who were we to deny them of their good fortune?

Inside the stadium it was packed to the rafters with Ecuadorians and Costa Ricans. By the way Costa Ricans fans should be employed by US Immigration. They stopped all the Mexican Waves. Party poopers.

After the game which was won by an outstanding Ecuadorian outfit, we ended up at the beach. Or as close as i have been to a beach since Thailand. There was sand, and sunchairs, and cushions... cushions??? what the??


So after much sand and sun and drinking sangria, we headed home. An early morning wake up and back to the real world of work. Where I write this... on the man's time. Yeah....

Copenhagen - Land of all that is blonde















7 intrepid antipodeans + 7 cheap arse Ryanair tickets = 7 tired travellers. And tired = ugly. Oh well at least we'll be in our element. From all accounts the Copenhagen locals are absolute pigs (see above) ;-)

Anywayz a coupla hours later, we arrive in Kobnhavn and everyone comes down with a funny skin irritation. Turns out it was sunlight.

Rakesh sets the record for fastest person lost on the continent. Within an hour, he hops in to a "7 Eleven" and was not seen again for an hour.

Strange Danish custom 1. - "7 Elevens" have a red light out the front with discrete rear entrances.















I don't know how Uncle Fester got in the background, but he did.

Whirlwind sight seeing tour, ended in the purchase of a stylish Man-bag. How postively Continental. Qualities include real leather and hand stitching. Intangible qualities include no more random police searches for "Articles Related to Terrorism"!

Dinner was fab (and not for the food either). Had no herrings but the lobster bisque substitued well. Dazel showed why no fish-head has ever made President of the Phillipines. White people present were most disgusted.

Much drinking ensued in a Bierhall with the locals. Too much alcohol blurred the locals vision and judgement and somehow we were accepted by the crowd without a vicous beating for not being blonde (or having no hair in 50% of the cases). Though i did suffer a savage mauling in the Foosball match... twice. What a silly game.

Strange Danish Custom 2. "Hi" means hello. "hi hi" means goodbye. "hi hi" means fuck off. Left the bar at 5am to a chorus of "Hi Hi". So sweet of them.

Day 2 was spent nursing a hangover at the Tivoli Gardens. Due to a boiled sausage with skin tags for brunch, an executive decision was made by moir not to ride the rides, made easier since i didn't make the height limit anyways!

More food and drinking was had at Nyhavn (left) for dinner. Well drinking anyways cause my steak still had a pulse. Dazel true to form unhappily ate all of his.

Strange Danish Custom 3. The bins are automated... they open and close by themselve with red lights flashing. Where the rubbish goes is anyone's guess. Rumour has it, it goes to Sweden.

Day 3 was much of the same - wet and cold. Statue of the Little Mermaid is whats the word for it .... shite! We did climb the staircase to heaven, only to find out that Heaven did not accept non-believers... So i was cast down to Christiana. Its like Nimbin with Riot Police.


A long trip home ensued. At Stansted we waited in a queue for non-eu citizens (i could swear it was meant to say "Thy of non-eu heritage, behold the queue of infinity"). So after a difficult and cold journey home, the trip ended where it started - 3am in my bedroom.