Last day

Yups, we're flying in less than 24 hours, and will be back in Holland in about 40. It's weird, as much as I have missed friendsw and family over the last two days, all I really want to do is play the sims and stay in my room for three weeks. No such luck though.

The last day here was spent packing and going to see the disappointing "The Lovely Bones". The packing is actually going a lot better than the incoming flight, mostly because I managed to dump ten packets of Stroopwafels among Tafkab's unsuspecting family.

This is not going to be the last blog, I am assuming there will be somewhat to say about the flight back. So keep checking this space.

Oh, and a belated but merry christmas, everybody!
K

Last days approaching

It is so weird. When I came here, I was going to be here for a full month. Now, about three days later, I am leaving in less than a week, right after christmas. Seriously, time has flewn so fast... On the one hand, I am happy to be going home, as it is nice to sleep in a familiar bed and I need to get my life sorted post-break-up. On the other hand, I am by far not tanned enough and I don't feel like I've seen everything yet.

Tafkab and I went up to see one of his old friends yesterday who lives along the northern coast, so another beach day! I've decided to do the anti-tourist thing and completely skip Bondi in favour of other, less well known beach locations.

Avoca Beach, first stop

The first beach was Avoca, a very nice, very very hot beach somewhere above Sydney. It was hot. Yes, there were multiple goodlooking men there, which helped, but mostly, it was warm. Very, very, very warm. Too warm to actually walk on. Fun, and the water was of course excellent, but nonetheless warm.

After an appropriate amount of time swimming, bodysurfing and drying of on the beach, we went on to Terrigal, known for it's marvellously cultured esplanade. Unfairly known, I have to say, so we left rather swiftly.

Met up with Tafkab's friends, stayed over in their incredibly, way too nice, I hate these people AND their sunroom house, and had breakfast, before they sent us on our way, luckily with the instructions on how to get to an ugg-store, something I had not been able to find yet and the non-inclusion of one in our trip would have send my aunt and cousin into a deathly rage.

And, toady, on the edge of my trip, I did what Tafkab has treathened to make me do since we got off the plane: Feed a kangaroo.

Yes, a kangaroo INSIDE a kangaroo. The mamushka's of the animal kingdom I tells ya.

We went to a small koala hospital that had a number of animal-enclosures. all filled with australia's cutest and least poisonous animals. I was especially enamoured by the common wombat, which is just too cute.

Mr McCutiestein, the Wombat

The Grumpy-McSnoozers, just back from a Eucalyptus-binge

After this park, a lunch with a way, way too orangey-red hot dog and another trip in a way, way too hot red car, we arrived back for some rousing rounds of tabletennis, and of course, Christmas is tomorrow.

Almost home.

Oh yes, for some reason, in the koala-park, the toilets for the ladies are owned by men...

What do you mean "We are going up there"?

No photo's this time, as we were not allowed to take them.

But yes, Sydney, as most of you know, is build around a bay. And across this bay are several bridges, one of them, apparantly the longest single span bridge. The thing is about 134 meters from the water level, and this morning, I was on top of it.

We had to get up for this experience at the ungodly hour of 6.30 in the morning, which was just plain painful. But as I had fallen out of bed during a very strange dream at 2.30 prevously, I wa sin pain already anyways, so hey, that was doable. We arrived at the bottom of the bridge at about 8.30, and went to get suited up and instructed.

Man were we unpleasantly dressed. What with the wind-chill and the safety-stuff and all we were dressed in these one size fits nobody-type greyish jumpsuits, with batman-style belts for the radios and clippy things to stop us from plummeting the aforementioned 134 meters. After a dry run on how to climb a ladder (slowly, and difficultly, if my group was to be believed) we were "allowed" out.

Out into the wild open air above sydney, into a beatiful view. Climbing and descending the bridge takes about three hours, and the nice tourguide people give you sime background information on the bridge. Being somewhat scaed of heights and definitely scared of deep, open water, I missed most of these bits of information. But the views were gorgeous.

So, so beautiful, you really get to see the whole of Sydney, the bay-heads and all the little white boats. Seriously, this is THE tourist attraction of Sydney, and very expensive with it. I'm not saying it's worth the money, but it is certainly worth getting over your nervousness for.

Genzyme Christmas Party

Snce I am here in Oz issing the first real white christmas in a loooong looong time, and on the same reasons missing all the holiday-cheer associated with the holiday, I was rather chuffed when an australian friend of mine asked if I wanted to come to her office's x-mas feast. And even more pleased, as she works for the same company I do, only here in Australia. So I could still go to the office's celebration, and not feel toooo weird about it all.

The party was held in a park-area, during the day, with the traditional Australian BBQ, traditional Australian jumping castle, golf-putting-contraption and manicures. A little bit strange, perhaps, but still very good.

It was good catching up with the wonderful Aip (Australian Italian Princess, she'll hate me for the name) anyways, and spending the day with her in her more or less natural environment was a great pleasure.
She was lucky with the weather as well, as it was a beautiful sunny day.

Aip

Lucky with the weather I myself have not really been. It rains every two days or so, which means you can't swim at a lot of the beaches as the extra water comes with stronger currents and the additional danger of phosphates in the water. it doesn't stop people as such, but the lifeguards get annoying. Still, there is always the eye candy.

See, strong currents.

And Eye Candy

Apart from the beaches and Aip, We've been moving around Sydney doing touristy things, seeing Darling Harbour, walking around Glebe again and shopping for souvenirs.

So, yes. Only a few more days, and Christmas cuts into them as well, I'll be home before I know it, and I am only half happy about it.

Till later,

K

Other things I have now seen in real life.

Photos work again!

Now I know last post was a bit on the depressed side, I blame a short and heavy bout of home-sickness. Not that I am feeling home-sick, but tthis is my blog so I can blame whatever I damn well please to blame, I'm sorry but I can.

Sooo yes. What have I done with myself over the last few days? Well, let me tells ya. Tuesdaynight Tafkab and I went to see a show in the famous Sydney Opera House, as I had requested as one of the "Must do"s. And I can tell you, I was very much not disappointed. It was a concert of the Australian Chamber Orchestra, and it was music selected and introduced by Barry Humphries. Before the intermission this was. After the intermission, it was songs from the repertoire of Sir Les Patterson, Australian ambassador to the Arts, and the show was ended, rather well, I thought, by none other than gigastar and housewife Dame Edna Everage!

Before the intermission it was simply very very good. The main room of the Opera House has a magnificent seventies-feel to itself, and we were placed accoustically very advantageous. The music was Modern Classics, mostly from the interbellum-period 1920-1940, and very interesting. I have always had a thing for the modern classics, and the ASO is an amazing group of performers. Mr Humphries wqas quite funny in his introductions, and I really enjoyed myself. Regretfully, no photos, not allowed inside and I am a law-abiding Luce.

After the intermission, Sir Les was not really my cup of tea, but the Dame was everything i had expected of her, and more. A massive sparkly frock, and character to match, and her short introduction and presentation were absolutely grand. The glad-tossing and weaving at the final song warmed my heart, and I feel I have really entered the halls of gay-worthyness after this.

Today, Wednesday, Tafkab's lovely parental units had sprung tickets to see Wicked, the musical. Obviously I'd seen it in London, but hey, I like it, so why not see it again? To prepare, Tafkab and I went to the Chinese gardens, Sydney university and the 'burb of Glebe to do some touristy bits.

Ibis in Darling Harbour, on the way to the gardens

First of, the Chinese Gardens. I've wanted to go here to re-create one of my favourite AwkwardFamily-Photos, but ended up just really liking the tranquil surroundings. Strange how so central in the city this place of peaceful silence exists. Shame about the tourists though.

A koi in the Chinese Gardens and Being coy outside of them

The gardens are beautiful, very nicely laid out in five different settings, Lake, Mountains, Grotto, euhm and I forgot the other ones, but gorgeous.

View from the Gardens out into the harbour

Inside a pagoda

Climbing stuff & being Vitruvian

Tafkab and I spent some time making photos and enjoying ourselves climbing stuff, before going to the University and wandering around Glebe. I like Glebe. Glebe is one of the oldest suburbs of Sydney, and it feels metropolitan, a little bit bohemian and very, very funky. Good bookstores, good coffee-houses, good people.

The Quad of Sydney University. Pictured: Beauty

After this, Wicked, and it was, as always, very good. Tafkab and I both got a little too used to the original cast rrecording, so the first half of the show was spent going "That's not how it's done..." but the musical is a pleasure anyways.

Tomorrow, the beach.

Random leftover photo, also posted on Facebook:

Hello Possums!

Yes, yes, I know, it has been too long, but in my defence, Tafkab and I have been road-tripping to Melbourne and back and one of the things that people here in Oz don't really have is a sense of the need for regular, dependable and findable internet-spots. You'd think, what with backpackers being a plague and all, that the internet-cafe would be relatively commonplace but outside of the larger cities, you'd be wrong. You'd also think, wrongly, that a road-trip is exactly where exciting stuff happens.

Anyways, Melbourne, or mostly, the trip there-to. Going via Canbera on the way in, and along the ocean on the way out. We rented a car and were on our way, stopping over where-ever Tafkab found the most god-awful, serial killer inviting, horridly woodpanelled motels imaginable. (again, photos refuse to be uploaded, I'm sad to say, but will be on facebook).
We also stopped of at plenty of small places for coffee-food-icecream-mental health, and not once was I disappointed in the belief that most of this country is just waiting to unhitch the chainsaws and go mental.

Canberra is very much ok. The capital of Australia, it boasts some very impressive views, mostly in the Embassy-district, where most of the embassies look like buildings from the countries they represent. This is cool if you take Malaysia or China into account, but doesn't do much for Holland and the United States of America.

Melbourne itself as cool. Everybody kept saying I would like it, as it is more cultured, more European
(difference?) and it was, mostly because the weather was rather grey and windy, as it was for most of the road-trip actually. In Melbourne I had a bit of a Pilgrimage to Dame Edna Place, a street named after the well known Melbournian housewife. We also did a little more shopping both in Melbs and on the way, getting former Housemate and her man some Australian souvenirs, and ourselves some much needed clothing so as to not show up in EVERY photo wearing the exact same t-shirt.

We met up with some former friends of Tafkab in town as well, and are scheduled to meet up with them again in Sydney. But hey, that is the international life, running in to all and sundry willy nilly, I suppose. Also,l after 2 years of backorder and whatnot in Holland, I finally got the next installment of the Gloomcookie graphic novel, but that probably only interests me.

On the way back through every coastal town god saw to grant with NO INTERNET ACCESS and bad weather we mostly stayed in our serial-killer motel rooms and watched television, or went out to see some movies, ("Where the wild things are" which was a disappointment, and "Paranormal Activity" which was not).

Seriously, we travelled for 6 full days, two nights in Melbourne, but nothing exciting really happened.
Only in the Gong and Tathra we finally got the combination of surf, weather and eye-candy to get into the water, and man was it pleasent. I don't think I swam in sort-of open water for over 10 years, not counting inland lakes, and the surf does a man good. It does a man's blisters after days of a lot of walking less good though, what with the salt and all
.
Now back in Sydney with better weather, I am hoping for some beach-action in the coming days running up to Christmas. First, though Barry Humphries in the Opera House toninght, and Wicked tomorrow.

River Deep, Mountain Blue

Because Tafkab's parents are both retired they have incredibly busy schedules that only allow some time for themselves on Sundays. And since Tafkab has gibbed me into believing he would rent a car to get around here but instead forces both of us to take public transport in horrible, tropical weather, we have just stuck to the city so far. Last Sunday, however, we took a trip to the Blue Mountains.

The Blue Mountains are a mountain range some 60 odd km from Sydney, and named because from a distance they are supposed to look blue because of the eucalyptus oil in the air. As a good pretent-Roman I naturally accept the fact that eucalyptus is such a bedrock of Australian culture that it seems to cure anything from typhoid fever to horrid criminal intent (how else could a prison colony become a world-renowed purveyor of cultural icons and barbeque-recipies?) I have no problem accepting the fact it also colours the air into a random colour, and at no time at all have I suggested that almost EVERYTHING looks blue from a goodly distance, and neither will I. (It does so because the air is full of water, and water is, actually, blue. Look it up.)

But yes, the mountains. They are very beautiful. About four times as high as the fair Netherlands highest point my ears popped for changing pressure about three times before we hit the first town. The towns are all set up exactly the same, along the main road, with a pharmacy, a chinese restauarant and usually a few antique/kitsch/souvenir/koala-petting stores and a sign at the beginning and end telling you what "...of the mountains" this particular town is (Jewel, Beauty, Pride, Heart, Butterfly, Spleen, Sphincter, you name it, we pased it). We ended up in a town named Ketoomba, which, despite sounding like the last bit of a Swahilli curse (Nendo Katumba means "Go have sexual relationships with yourself in an unpleasant manner") was very pleasant. Apart from the flies. Oh god. The flies.

I did suddenly understand why the spiders in this country become so big, they need to, to be able to take on the flies. Christ where there many of them. I was well covered within a second of getting out of the car, one particularly tenacious one I named "Guz" (Why? Just Guz.) and he followed us around all through the day, untill we handed him an item of clothing and he promised to overthrow a nasty landowner close by.

But whenever the screen of buzzing annoyance would lift, I was treated by an amazing, amazing view. Truly spectacular mountainsides and lush, LUSH foresting. All very pretty. I apologize for not posting photo's on the blog, the upload-thingy is refusing to work and I have to put everything on Facebook for now.

We saw the three sisters, a rock formation so named for an old Aborigine legend of bad fatherhood. The story goes a witchdoctor turned his daughter into rocks to protect them from a Bunyip, then himself into a Lyrebird to escape the beast himself. Now I don't know much about the whole Aborigine magical history, but why not turn the Bunyip into stone? Huh? Thought of that? But I guess we should be grateful, as i9t does make for good photos.

After the three sisters and a lunch of thee and scones, we took the steepest little train ever (60 degrees) down the side of the mountain to walk around the forests and old mining equipment a bit, then the steepest cablecar back up. This was actually really nice, and very pretty, but since I make it a habit to not stop to read information signs for stuff I can find online, and I dislike reading "and then we saw a tree, and then another tree, and then a rock" type of journals, this is the best you guys are going to get.

Home, earpoppingly, most of which trip I missed because despite desperate attempts to the contrary I zonked out about fifteen minutes in and woke up in the driveway. Tomorrow the Melbourne trip and Dame Edna pilgrimage is supposed to begin. I've just read the unauthorized biography, and am looking forward to it even more.

Lot's of love. K.

Best "How do you know..." story there.

So we've been here a few days, mostly walking around in Sydney and doing minimal shopping
(this town, it be expensive) with Tafkab playing a dutiful tourguide. Now Taffie is a wonderful man, but one of the things he is not so good at at all is assessing time. So when he says he'll be on the computer for "five minutes" you can almost be certain I will be well in bed by the time he actually relinquishes the mouse. for that reason and that reason alone, I have not been posting blogs or photos (on facebook) for the last couple of days.

So, yes, what have we been doing? Mostly horrifyingly uninteresting stuff, but we did go to a wedding a few days ago. The wedding of Groom, Tafkab's old chum, and Bride. I also met a lot... a LOT of old friends of Tafkab. Now this is all a bit weird, obviously, had Taffie and I still been together, I'd have had a real incentive to get into these people, getting to know them, finding out where they lived and building relationships on the off chance that Tafkab and I would eventually move to Australia. With the break up, that all belly up, and my reasons for being at the wediing were suddenly more than a bit tenuous to say the best.

So I had a few conversations that started with "So how do you know Bride and Groom?" that turned slightly awkward around the reveal (I don't), continued into even more awkwardness when the explanation started (I am Tafkab's ex-boyfriend and Tafkab knows them) but would quickly get an upswing at about three-quarters of the conversation (we broke up a week before we left) and ending in unmitigated Luce-based sympathy (well, yes it is somewhat strange but everybody is really nice and I would love a sparkling water and something to nibble, thank you) before the end of the telling.

But the wedding was really nice, outside, in a parklike setting next to a beach/marina, it was very sweetly set up by friends of the couple with streamers and flower-petals. The bridal pair were lovely. Having never met them beforehand I can't say whether they've cleaned up well or not, but they both looked absolutely excellent. The only small comment I have to make was on my side, as I had managed to dress in EXACTLY the same colour as the bride. What great luck. She looked better in it though.

I also met the lovely Schmichaela (named thus upon request), the groom's sister, who lives a block or so from Tafkab's parents' house. She is a very intelligent, acidic corporate lawyer who waisted no time at all in starting to tell me the stories of how it was growing up close to Tafkab and relations.

All in all, it was a wonderful day and I want to take this little corner of the web to thank Bride and Groom for a very nice evening, and wish them all the best in their newly married life.

I'm currently off to do absolutely nothing for a few hours, after which Tafkab and I will start planning my Dame Edna pilgrimage. There are photo's on Facebook of our trip so far.

Shite Shite Shite

Well, at least I have managed to avoid stepping on something poisonous. Apart from that, the day is not going so well.

Day one in Australia, arrived this morning, very early, after a rekatively bumpy flight with very little sleep. Never one to be daunted by a paltry lack of sleep, I jumped gladly into the Ozzie fray by meeting Tefkab's [arents. Of courrse I have been waiting to meet these people throughout the three years the relationship lasted, but now that that is over, what do I do?

Shake hands, introduce, be nice, apparently.

And they are nice people, and their house is verry nice. So why shite shite shite?  Well, I'm tired, and cranky, and incredibly sunburned. All these things are pretty much par for the course as far as pale-skinned travel is concerned. Further than that, I have managed to get caught in a screen door, managed to get blisters and a sprained ankle (all in the last half hour) AND slipped in the bathroom, landing ungracefully on my butt.

Luckily, my fall was broken by my wallet. Which had my bankcard in it, and a stash of coins. Result: Snapped bankcard. ONE DAY in and THREE WEEKS to go, and no more bankcard. Now, yes, I am not alone, and Tafkab is (while I'm typing this) saying it won't be too much of an issue from his side, but still, I want to have some money you know.

Also, I have been "helped" by what might well be the least unhelpful emergency-helpline people ever. One needed to know that I had my passport ready (yes) whether I was sure it was my passport (yes), whether I had access to this passport (yes), whether I had this passport on hand (yes) and wheter the passport that I had in my hand was going to be the same passport I would use to get some emergency money (yes, yes, fokkin yes please). I am dialling on my mobile (we need to have the same number that we have registered, otherwise...) and it is late here (had to wait untill office hours NL) and I really want to go to bed. So I start reading the document number, only to be stopped because she "just wanted to make sure I had the document ready.

...

Sigh.

Anyways.
Time has passed, and the money will be sort of arranged, but a new card is not an option (courier? No. Sending it? No.Picking it up in the (confirmed sighting) Rabobank Office here in Sidney? No. Teleportation through Buddhist Monks? No.) so I am going to have to be reaaaalll careful with my money over the next month.

It will be fine, it is just shite annoying. Luckily I bought my new camera before all this happened.

Also, my back-of-the-leg area hurts, and has a wallet imprint.

Grrr.

K  
 

One night in Bangkok and the world is your slimy sea food.

Bangkok is rather spectacular, I have to say. We’ve had the great luck to come in a few days before a national holiday and the birthday of the king, and whether it is because of that or unrelated it does mean we came in in the middle of a grand sale. Which also, in a great many stores, lasts till midnight. So good discounts AND easy shopping ability, certainly nothing to complain about. Not incredibly impressed with the offerings, however. Tafkab bought face wash. I bought nothing. I was going to buy a camera, but the one I want it not available in Thailand, so that will have to wait until Sidney. New camera or not, we do of course have pictures. Full pictures will be posted on our Facebook pages, but some highlights of the trip deserve picture coverage.


Here goes.

After spending the morning on the look-out for the camera, which we did not find, we went to the grand palace EXACTLY on time to be late for the morning opening hours. Luckily, we were intercepted by a tuk-tuk driver who was so incredibly generic we dubbed him TukTuk Bob.

 
Tafkab and TukTuk Bob. Not pictured: Mind numbing fear during TukTuk ride.

Bob suggested a route that he would drive us past a few sites of interest, a few stores as specified by both our needed products and what types of kickbacks he would get (not mentioned in the negotiations but we know how this works) and off we went.

And let me tells ya, TukTuks might be touristy, but they are also DAMN fun and scary as hell, especially with Bob enthusiastically talking to us, often while looking at us and moving straight into oncoming traffic.


First Stop: Really tall Buddha.

Sooo Yes, this was a tall Buddha.

What with it being a Buddha-based holiday the entry to this site was free, and well, it was a big, big Buddha. Not the biggest I’ve seen today but very nice still. It was across from the school where Bob’s daughter works, which adds a certain level of cool, if you know Bob. It was also the Buddha Bob said a little prayer at for our luck and safety, I can’t fault the man anything.

The complex the big Buddha was in was otherwise unremarkable, in that it was absolutely gorgeous just like all the other sites we visited. So unremarkably from a tourist standpoint, but definitely remarkable from a sheer beauty perspective.


Next stop(s) Shops, shops, shops.

Yeeeessss yes, we are tourists, we know how it works, they use a similar program everywhere. Between good tourist sites you are carted to a number of shops with local products and suchlike. Which is good, because we needed local products. And by local products, I mean suits. And by need, I mean wanted.

So we were fitted for a couple of suits and shirts, by quite a cute fellow, who will be delivering the suits to our hotel for final fitting tomorrow evening. Growing up Dutch the level of service and politeness here is stunning, but the incredible ease that almost everything happes in is really impressive.


Stop after that: Reclining Buddha

Ok, so I might not be the most cultured person in the world, but I did think the Reclining Buddha was elsewhere. And it isn’t, it’s very close to the Grand Palace. As it is, I was very much looking forward to this. Regardless of my slight topographical mishap, I always found this thing really cool, and seeing it up close and personal was even cooler.



Licking Reclining Buddha’s nipple. Not pictured: Outraged Buddhists and Security guards,



Next stop : The Grand Palace

I’m always a sucker for well-named things, and yes, this place was and is grand. Beautiful architecture, incredible decorations, impressive size, well kept gardens and Indian Water-lily type guardian giants as far as the eye can see. We tried to get into the Emerald Buddha temple, but this was regretfully closed. Might try again tomorrow, might not. I do know that the Grand Palace, though not necessarily designed for picture taking, does allow for gooood pictures. Strange.

While waiting to enter the Grand Palace there was some kind of palaver going on at the entry way. Having caught a glimpse of the King earlier in the day we were hoping to see him up close again, but either he was cleverly disguised as a fat admiral type, or it was just some other dignitary. Impressive lack of force and airtight security was used to ensure only the really willing assassins had a shot at the man, but they were all on holiday as well apparently.


Tafkab outside the Grand Palace being all Japanese-y
Kevin inside the Grand Palace also being all Japanese-y

Trying to fit in with the topiary in the Grand Palace

After clearly not fitting in, Kevin regretfully got into a topiary fist fight.

Neeeext stop: Boating on the river.

As a good close of the day, Bob brought us to the riverbank where we boarded a boat to take us on an hours trip through the cities waterways. With the risk of repeating myself, quite cool again. Being on the water is always nice, and it awarded some very good views. Also, it gaves us a chance to randomly buy some bread that we were told to throw into the water. Thinking we were feeding pigeons, we grumbled a bit, until it turned out we were feeding these:

Fish. Loads of them. Also some of the bread they did away with very swiftly.

After all this excitement, we went for the first fitting of our suits, and back to the hotel for some needed rest. We’ve not exactly run out of things to do here, but we did do everything that was on the list, and more, in the first day. Many thanks to Bob, without whom we’d’ve not been able to do all we did, and without whome’s guidance we’d’ve not even known they were there to do.

Tomorrow is going to be somewhat more relaxed. I for one want to test the hotel’s facilities (pool, sauna, good stuff) and have a bit of a tanning session.

Oh! I’ve not told you about the hotel. Suggested by my MBTC (My Best Thai Colleague) it is sooomewhat further from the centre than was suggested (How… MBTC wears heels… I already died in sneakers) but it is a very, very nice hotel. Empty, now, during the week, but the room is absolutely great. We found it easily yesterday evening, but for the rest of the stay it’s cabs and suchlike as far as I’m concerned.


Some random photo’s on the way:

Some weird fruit from this side of the world, and he’s hungry

Two drinks make you stand like a twelve year old.

Tafkab in the Grand Palace garden.

Emerald Buddha, not pictured: actual Buddha

This one is for MBTC and the Merc.

Mandatory Travel Complaints

On plane, euhm.. Sunday?

I have no idea how the timezones and shite work, as a goodly zenned traveler, I will see where I end up and more importantly, when.

Currently Tafkab and I are heading from Heathrow to Sum-something in Thailand. I will find out how the airport is spelled at some time in the near future, but since almost all the actually useful travel-papers (not counting passport and all that) are with Tafkab at the moment and there are several severely de and/or inclined seats between us, I really can’t be bothered.

Mostly because there is plenty of stuff bothering me anyways. Well… plenty, plenty… so far everything I’ve been rather fortunate when it comes to the travel. Dinner at Schiphol, easy flight from there to Heathrow, then a swift coffee for Tafkab and on to the next flight, which I am still on at this point in time.

So as nothing about the travel really annoys me, let’s talk about the people. Because there are some annoyances there, let me tell you about:

Freaky Headphone Guy. Well, he was freaky, and he was constantly wearing headphones. Nothing wrong with either, but there is something annoying about it if you stand SO CLOSE behind me in line that I have no choice but to smell the disgusting smell of disgusting disgustingness that wafts from you but that you think you have cleverly hidden under layers and layers of some hideously cheap scent that by the smell of it you picked up from some equally hideously cheap fling. This guy kept creeping closer and closer to me and Tafkab in any line that we might find ourselves in, clearly intent only n always being in some blind corner right behind us.


What is it with airplanes that ensures that you are always, ALWAYS, annoyed with the person sitting behin, next to or in front of you, without fail? As I have nobody behind me (row before the emergency exit) and nobody immediately next to me (there is a lady one place over, more about her later) there was no choice but to be annoyed by the guy in front of me. Not that I would merely be annoyed about somebody just because of their topographical position vis-à-vis myself, so I’m happy the twat has given me about thirteen hours of annoyance without anybody else having to help. Let me start.

Guy right in front of me likes reclining his seat, but not reclining IN his seat. Very shortly after take off there was an interesting, rather complex sound that those familiar with air-travel will likely recognize. The sound is best spelled *DuuSHHHSHRunnnnCRGKTJSSSiiiiiiieeeee*. In this complex sounds are interwoven at least four sounds. To wit:
-The *Duuuunnnn* sounds of the “fasten seatbelt” signs turning off.
-The *ShhhhhhhhRSH* of the seat in front of me swiftly travelling backwards. This happened so shortly, if not in tune, with the previous sound that I am sure Recline McGee was sitting ready ever since he boarded.
-The *CRGKTJS* sound my kneecap made as it came into unflattering contact with the bloody chair in full swing
And
-he soft, keening *iiiiieee* of a Kevin in pain. If desired, you may imagine a slight rocking motion of the upper body to accompany this, although that off course didn’t happen, as there was no space for it in the suddenly horridly enclosed space.

After this, the man in front of me leans forward. As he still is, a small twelve hours later. So, just so y’all have the situation perfectly in mind, the CHAIR in front of me is almost fully reclined, the MAN in the chair is leaning forward to almost the same angle. At no place do the man’s back and his chair actually meet. Well, I tell a lie, as soon as it was announced that we could see Mt Everest from our side of the plane, he touched his chair. He had to, as he was leaning over it to open MY window, so he could look out at the mountain. His own window he kept safely shut and unused. As such, I can proudly say we passed in sight of the highest mountain peak on the planet (though not the highest mountain, of course) and I have gloriously managed to miss it.


And then, the lady one seat over, in the isle seat on the row where I have the (useless for 85% of the trip) window. She is very nice, a sweetish, elderly lady that looks EXACTLY like somebody’s grandmother should look. The only problem is that she does. Not. Move. Which is ok, I am not a big traveler within plane, but every now and then you need to go to the bathroom, or beg Tafkab the use of his laptop to keep the folks at home updated. And in that situation, I need to climb over her. Over her. And, because the whole row has taken after Recline Mclean-Forward III in front of me, this is not easy. I’m sure I shattered her knee as effectively as the chair shattered mine on the first try, which means I am now kindly guided across her lap in a gesture that is meant both helpful and protective, but it might be misconstrued as some unembarrassed groping.


We are currently getting ready to fly into BKK, and then on to the hotel and to see how late the stores close, as I have selected my new to be purchased camera. So I’m signing off for now, and will be back in a few hours with updates on Bangkok. Contrary to previous information we will be there for three nights instead of the expected (by me) two, so time enough to experience the town.

K.

Almost there

Well, almost ready to leave for the airport, but almost at the point where you can say "and then the holiday started", which counts for something.

As usual, Tafkab has started a period of being slightly to heavily stressed, and I have gotten remarkably zen and laissez-faire about the whole thing (It doesn't matter, we'll buy a new arm on the airport, just relax) so as to not go on the plane stressed. Not that that is going to work.

Packing has been done, somewhere between 00.47 and 02.07 this morning. I suppose I have everything, by which I mean I have everything that I know I shouldn't forget. all the stuff that I am currently forgetting but am unaware about, I can deal with at a later stage.

Soooo, the last blog for a while from this side of the equator. I am hoping that despite the slightly bad weather we won't be delayed too much, and drop off in Bangkok in a good 20 hours. More from there.

Kevin

There we go.

Ok, right of the bat, some things become readily apparent. Ready as I am to go on this holiday, my first in well over 5 years that'll last longer than a few days, it appears I am not, in fact, as such, in so many words, ready to go on this holiday. And by this I mean: I can barely find my passport.

Tafkab, of course, is doing a lot better. Here is a hastily made photo of Tafkab's prep-work:

I think this is perfect. It even looks decorative, everything neatly laid out, ready to be suitcased up and taken away. 

This, on the other hand, is what I have to deal with

 

Beautiful isn't it? And yes, I know I should fold my laundry every now and then, but hey, I don't. What you can also tell from these hastily made photos is that I have NOT been able to find my camera. I'm currently heavily considering buying one at the airport tomorrow.

Yes, tomorrow. And as I am typing this it actually is already tomorrow. We fly in less than 18 hours, 8 of which I intend to spend sleeping. But, am I packed? Nooooo. No, I still have a LOT of packing to do. Which I could have done earlier. But I was distracted then. With computer games. Plants vs Zombies, to be precise.

And now I am allowing myself to be distracted by this blog, which I am rustily writing at 00.47 at night, regardless of what the time-stamp of the blog will say. Ah well, Tafkab's not here, so at least I can always pretend I did all the packing on time.

Oz-Bound!

So, there we are. Fresh one week after breaking up with Boyfriend, I am still going to go on holiday to the other end of the world with the man. And I am looking forward to this, who'd've thunk it.

By request of my mother, who is a good mother and therefor needs to know about everything I do, I have set up this blog, which I will strive to keep updated on a daily or bi-daily basis throughout my trip to Australia.

In this blog, I will give you impressions, anecdotes, observations and whatever crosses my mind as I am travelling with Tafkab (The Australian Formerly Known As Boyfriend) throughout his country, or at least those parts of it known as Sydney and Melbourne.  As the whole "What are you going to do over there" thing is currently a mystery to me as well as to everyone who is NOT Tafkab, this might prove remarkably interesting, or surprisingly, mind-numbingly boring. But no fear, there will not be a test at the end.

Happy reading.

Kevin

PS: Apart from my own name, all names in this blog will be fictionalised to protect both innocent and guilty. Tafkab's name is not reaaaallly Tafkab. Most people will get acronyms, some will get placeholder-names. All resemblance to any person living or dead will most likely be intentional. Sue me, I can use the exposure.