New York

Day 0 - we arrived at the airport and took sooooooo long to get through customs that by the time we got to the hotels it was about 10.30pm and too late and knackered to do much, so we just checked and got as much sleep as possible for the next day.

 

Day 1 - met up early and went for a fantastic breakfast at a diner in the centre of Manhatten, which has singing waitresses and the food was superb also.

 

After breakfast we went on a movie style guided tour of the island, where our guide would point out the locations and sights that had been used in hollywood blockbusting movies and also successful tv shows like Seinfeld, Friends and the Cosby Show.

 

Following the tour we went up the Rockerfellar Centre, took a few photos and admired the view. What was very cool is that just when we chose to go they were doing a live outdoor weather forcast and so we loitered around and managed to become part of the crowd scene making this my first ever time to be shown on live tv around the world. Yay, go me.

 

From their we then split up our little band for the day as they were off to watch a baseball game and I chose instead to grab a stage show of Avenue Q, not being the greatest lover of baseball.

 

Day 2 - met up early as we had a stunning helicopter ride all planned, but it was pushed back due to poor visibility in the uncharasteristic morning fog. So instead we grabbed another diner breakfast and went to see Wall Street and ground zero { site of the ill fated twin towers } before going back for the helicopter ride, which was awesome.

 

After the helicopter ride we did some shopping and investigating the city before we all headed off back to out rooms to get changed for the evening. The rest went to see the stage show Mary Poppins but I had already got my sights set on watching the movie Bourne Ultimatum { going to the cinema is something I always try to do in a foreign country }.

 

The film was good, and the cinema itself was plush and well looked after and then we all met back up again for a meal and drinks til we all fell asleep. The rest eventually wanted to go nightclubbing but I had an early start that morning so I took off.

 

Heading off from the meal a little drunk I got a bit turned around and totally lost track of where the underground train station was and once I found by bearing I started walking to where I wanted to go and hoped that I would bump into an entrance soon. However once I got started walking I was like Forest Gump, I just kept on going, and ended up arriving at my hotel room about 3.15am after walking almost the entire length of Manhatten Island.

 

Day 4 - Sadly I had done so much walking the previous night that I totally overslept and missed my tour bus departing for Boston, and as it was a day trip the others already had made other plans and were gone from their hotel room by the time I woke up.

 

So instead of a 12 hour round trip to see the sights of Boston I just did more of the same walking, movies, shopping and sight seing.

 

We had all arranged to meet up at the top of the Empire States Building at 10pm this night, however I had overused my cellphone as a camera and by the time I got there the queues were so long and thick I was unable to find them in the throng, so I just did the top myself, bought a few soveneirs and postcards { that I have still yet to post ... arghhhhh } and then headed back to my room for a good nights rest.

 

The next day the gang were again up before me and already at the port to see the Statue of Liberty when I was calling them to see what the days plans were, so we agreed to meet up later while I made my own leisurely way down to see the famous lady myself.

 

After the river cruise round Ellis Island, I chose to grab a bite to eat in Little Italy and sample China Towns own authentic foot and back rub specialists. The massage was good, but a little too firm for my liking and I very much doubt I will ever ask to be walked on again for as long as I live.

 

Then again more of the same, before I ducked back to my room to grab some rest for the night clubbing. This was all arranged for the last night to keep us all awake in time to catch the 3am bus ride back to the airport as we had a very early flight the next morning and I doubted my chances of normally waking up at 5am if I was not already still awake from the night before.

 

The night clubbing ended up being a Karioke bar called the Black Cat Pussycat Club, which was funky and the only thing that spolied it was that I got too drunk and ended up knocking some poor guys drink all over the floor as I was leaving.

 

Day 5 - met up again with the gang before a very quick ride to the airport where I had grossly overestimated the time needed to arrive in time for the flight and so we all ended up falling asleep, me on the floor as the seats were not as confy as my padded rucksack and bomber jacket.

 

It was a shame that my flight back was away form the others and also that the Virgin flight attendants seemed to have it in for me, as they would not let me sleep no matter how many times I tried to ignore them and their stupid rules about what I could or could not do during take off and landing.

 

Arriving back in the UK late I had just enough time to say a quick farewell to the others before catching a trian home, arriving around midnight and still jetlagged from an exhaustive week away.

 

All in all, it was a good holiday but it could have been better if we had managed to meet up as a group more, but then it was the first time I have done a group holiday and learned many things through the experience.

New York - day 2 & 3

Well there are some things that are best done as a group, and some things that are best done alone, having spent a only one day with heather and 2 days with the group i needed a day off today.

We did quite a few neat things, but the pace that they walk at, the time it takes them to arrive at any decision and the fact that they dont seem to want to actually take me seriously and are only asking me so as to not try and sound too self absorbed is painfully obvious.

Take Last night... they wanted to get something to eat and then go down to Ludlow Street. I said hey lets to to eat in china town or little italy first and then we can go to ludlow after. At that they all agreed until I showed them on the map where little Italy and china town were, then they suddenly all did a hissy fit and say no way Jose.

But the funny thing is, ludlow street is further away from where we were than either china town or little italy and the only way to get there is to go through both on the subway map.

When I pointed THIS out, all of a sudden it was not such a long way to go after all, though it still took ages and ages for them all to get ready to get through the barriers after heather had 'left' her subway ticket back in her room ... clever or what eh.

Or the theatre ... they went to watch mary poppins while I said that i would go to watch borne ultimatum ... my film finished first by over an hour, so after a quick stop for a drink and a strip dance ( well I AM in New York !?! lol ) so then i waited for them ... and i waited for them ... and i waited for them, and after they were the very last ones out of the audience by a good ten minutes I was just a little exasperated and said that i had been waiting and all sharon could say was "well i was having a shit" - which was her way of saying I don't actually give a shit how long you were waiting for us, I will come out when i am damn good and ready and not before.

That kind of fucking nonsense just pisses me off no end, as it meant that i was waiting in a strange city, alone, with none else to contact, in a suit, in the hot and sticky post twilight hours.

So after the theatre and the final decision to go to ludlow street we all head off, only for sharon to get trapped between the doors of the subway train as she was too slow and semi drunk to get off the EXPRESS train when she had the chance. Not that she would have been alone if she had stayed on and heather and sarah were right behind her, equally slow at standing up and certainly they were all unfit should anything serious happen to them.

It is their kind that get attacked, mugged and raped as they are just too damn slow, stupid and unaware of their situation to handle themselves. they all say that they love new york, but i can't imagine that would last very long if they kept up the way they were as one of them are sure to get done sooner or later.

Lambs or sheep, and though I may be only a 11 stone weakling, I am still a wolf when compared to the majority of folk who are clearly sheep. not that they are bad people, they are not, they are good and god fearing folk, but that's why they are sheep.

New york seems just run down and ready to be demolished and rebuilt at any moment. I would say that the best thing that could happen to it would be to pull it all down and start again. i have yet to see a stretch of road longer than 200 yards where some signs of major construction or renovation is taking place and there must be more steel pipes of scaffolding in New York than in the rest of the known world altogether.

Cairo felt as if it was in the process of being rebuilt, Penang looked like it was past its heyday and was just quietly dwindling back into obscurity but new york looks and feels and if godzilla and king kong have taken a disliking to it and done their best to destroy at least some of just about everything road, street and avenue that is more than 100 yards away from times square.

The people here are friendly enough and I haven't felt threatened anywhere, though admittedly I haven't been through harlem, the bronx or central park after dark, but then again even the meanest of guys would be stupid to walk without friends or protection through what is a largely uninhabited part of a darkened city after nightfall.

I have been having a lot of fun taking sepia photos of small things that look as if new york was 100 years ago, and i am trying to build up a portfolio without people of images that could fool many people into thinking that new york really was stuck in the end of the last 19th century - not the 21st century at all.

After the debacle of ludlow street, we stopped for some food on the corner of the place, a small italian off the edge of little italy where the meals, the wines and all the menus were in italian - or at least with italian names. we stayed for a meal that had the thickest and meatiest prawns I have ever tasted, and then they said that they were going clubbing after.

At this stage sharon had had a couple of glasses and was clearly getting tired and irritable as i tried to open up a conversation saying that i wasn't sure if i wanted to queue for ages to get into a club as I had an early night and her reply was a insulting ok, whatever - and just walked away to stand at the end of line.

I can clearly see that she was the worse for wear, and that she was taking her frustration out on me that had been building up after a long day with the others, but still to have it show so clearly that she feels she can say whatever to me and get away with it is not a good sign.

You might say that it is good as it shows that she has enough trust in our friendship that she is ok with taking a few liberties, but right then and there i looked at it like she is prepared to make an effort for everyone else except me, so i just said my goodnights and walked away.

And i walked ... and i walked ... and i walked ... all the way from ludlow street back to my hostel. A journey that took me just over 2 hours, starting at 1am and with the temperature still a muggy 72 degrees making walking breathing stuffy.

After half an hour i questioned my logic of not taking the metro. after an hour I could feel my feet start to sting with each step. after an hour and a half i decided that this was good practice for my epic journey next year but after the 2nd hour all i could then feel was the throb of my inner and outer legs begin to ache with the effort and strain.

It is true that new york never sleeps, and there were rats, cockroaches, invalids, fruit sellers, party revellers, taxis and street sweepers still at large when i got back to my hotel around 3.15am.

I can also say that i must have passed about a dozen hookers, or else it was just a coincidence that there were groups of 3 or 4 coloured girls standing on street corners, making no effort to go anywhere and standing idly by chatting on mobile phones were who i can only guess at their pimps - though looking nothing like puff daddy ... damn MTV, arghhhhh.

The next day I woke up at about 10, too late for a trip to boston, but early enough to go walking around. It was still fun doing it on my own, although there were a lot less photo opportunities to have me in them at the same time. I found a few places that I had wanted to see, walked like a local without really looking at the map and didnt do the souveneir thing until after I had been to the cinema for a second time - rush hour 3 ... another great film.

It is weird that in new york they have entire streets like the korean road or little brazil, where it is a real home from home if you are of that nationality with all the shops, shop owners and even signs are primarily in that language. Nice if you are feeling a little homesick.

What i was a bit surprised about, but only a little, is the dispelling of another myth, that all americans love the british accent.... either than or I have no british accent. As no only do most of the people i have met have no idea where I come from, but even after they learn it they made little or no extra effort to be nice or friendly towards me for being british. In fact, I am still pretty sure that I have been bumped for extra when i have made a few purchases specifically because I am a non New Yorker.

It worries me that in my hostel they made me switch rooms and leave my luggage in the main reception throughout the day while one was being cleaned and the other evacutated.

Worried more when i spotted signs on the inside saying that if you were staying in new york for more than 30 days you could apply to work there ... what a result for someone that is in their final week of working - a whole stack of suitcases left unattended by their owners for most of the day ... and what a headache for anyone trying to claim compensation should anything happen to them - as if you cant claim for loss of money that was left in your own rooms safe, what chance have you got when you have to admit that you left the entire suitcase just seconds away from an always open door where the public could get it!?!

It was funny when i was in the korean internet place writing this up, i had only been here a few minutes when this dark skinned and thickly dreadlocked rasta comes walking in the place and asks why the toilet is all locked up.

No sooner did he get the news that it was always locked up than he got all agro and started going through the motions of,"do you know who i am, i got friends, i got people ... a lot of people, we gonna come down here and rule you ass, we gonna kick out all you imposters and make mo money than you eva dreamed of".

It was quite a mini tyrade but all for nothing, and as the streets name was nicknamed "korean way' I dont expect that the owner was particularly scared or intimidated despite the thick accent and mean disposition.

New York is a place where the refuse of the world could easily hide out for awhile, but anyone with manners, style and class would most likely stay away from the rural areas as much as possible. It could be a great place with the right group of friends and enough money not to need to work, but other than that I wouldnt come back very often if i had my way.

The subway is pretty good, but then again its got some entrances that are hidden, some that you have to be careful which was you enter it from, as they dont always have underpasses or walkways to the other platfoms and i once found myself having to exit the entire place and walk for a few blocks to give my swipe card a chance to refresh and then try again from the correct side.

There are lots more black, asian and latino people here than I first though, and certainly if i am not mistaked the average white male on the streets are now outnumbered ... though to be honest about it, they would be all at work or at home and equally the native americans were here first so its only right that the whites from europe are outnumbered in at least a few places still in america.

New York, New York

Well day one started as good as night zero finished.

After finally managed to get a hold of my friends hotel telephone number we arranged to meet up just a few minutes after 9am, as they were just a few blocks up.

However a few blocks along and a few blocks up, added with early morning rush hour traffic turned a medium walk into a long walk and i barely managed it in about half an hour - not my best idea ever before a long day.

Also what wasnt my greatest idea ever was wearing jeans as the weather really was about 30 degrees and lacking in any wind or cloud cover. It is also very humid so within minutes the clothes were sticking to my clothes, which made things ten times worse and i could definetly feel a chafffing between my inner thighs by the time i got home.

I met up with the gang and got my first metro 7 day travel card - only it would have been better if i had brought along a detailed manhatten tube map as that would have saved me hours of getting home later on, but thats for later on.

We sped along at a fairly rapid pace until we got to downtown where we then went to find a place for breakfast before the start of the movie tour. it was quite amusing when the girls acted all girlie and screamed when the almost got ran over at the very first traffic intersection, and equally when they went all mushy over some hunky fireman - its the uniform apparently.

Breakfast at ellys diner was super fun, with the singing waiters and waitresses, and I couldnt help but gorge myself on pancakes and strawberry as well as a full continental breakfast, complete with overdone hard toast ... arghhhh

The movie tour was pretty cool, even if it started late and had a few too many friends and seinfeld jokes and on the spot questions. Nick almost won himself a boardgame of scene it, but he forgot which one of the girls did the rounds and dated all of the male leads, thus even though he was first to the punch he gave the wrong answer. Doh

The cosby show location was neato, and the black and white glazed giant donut was just a bit too much for most people to eat in one sitting ( well it was right after breakfast ), but by the time it reached the rice to riches parlour most people had recovered enough to try a few samplers of their famous 50 flavours bonanza.

The trip to the rockerfella museum was very cool and we ended up getting ourselved in the crowd for live primetime 5.20pm nbc weather ... my first time on tv live - yay, another thing of my list of things done, lol.

The views were amazing and we took so many photos that i thought my camera was going to explode .... the only downside was one that i thought we were all going to do sexy poses for and at the last second nick didnt and the girls chilled their poses just a tad so now looking at it I seem to be all pervy staring down her top for no good reason ... it didnt go down too well when they saw them and suddenly i got cast as the bad guy for a few minutes ... arghhhhh

After that we split up for they were off to baseball and i was off to watch avenue Q - via a quick asian rub down to ease the stresses of the day - it was a lot more chilled that I had expected, or wanted !?!

Avenue Q was great, but would have been better if i hadnt let rob and natalie tell me most of the good bits which sort of stopped them being as funny. It also didnt help that the guy next to me seemed overly excited at the jokes and almost preempted them with a loud and semi femenin laugh. It was almost impossible to laugh in time with the show with him forever jumping the punchlines.

The trip back was a mini nightmare and I had no idea where the tube statoins were, taking me almost 2 hours to get back.

New York, New York

The trip to New York was a bit of a long and hectic one.

 

As the flight did not plan to leave until 4pm I chose to leave packing until about 9am in the morning, not that I was not prepared thought - apart from perhaps finding my pair of binoculars ( which I suddenly get that slow dreading feeling that they also got lost in my other luggage and I've only just realised was not on my refund form - doh ) and my ear plugs, I think i got everything in.

 

In fact i did an even better job that I first thought as there was plenty of extra space for new clothes on the way back, I managed to squeeze in my pool cue and the towel I brought came in handy when i got to the hostel and found it didn't have any without an extra surcharge.

 

The trip to the airport was extremely uneventful, apart from the fact that I had not paranoidly rechecked a dozen times that we were actually flying from Heather airport and not one of the other airports in the city, and also it was a disappointment that shaz and co had decided to take the car without me to save space, thus it was a long few train journeys.

 

Checking in was a lot easier than I expected and I managed to get through with my backpack as hand luggage without even a cursory inspection at the main check in desk. After a game of text tennis with shaz i managed to get a call through and find out that we had after all got seats next to each other, though sarah and nick were seating on the other wing side.

 

Things took a mini nose dive for a bit as i couldn't see any signpost and we had agreed to meet up at TGI's.

 

the buffalo wings were horrid but the coke was ok and the gang let me liberate a few chips in the name of starvation which was a help.

 

I then flew around the airport to pick up my friend at works perfume and then it was off to the departure gate. with typical group timing we re-met at the departure lounge at different times and it was only one of us who almost went to the wrong gate as there were two flights both leaving at 4pm and despite staying in new york we were actually heading to newark.

 

The flight with virgin was without entertainment for the first hour of the flight, and the food was nothing to write home about, but it was all free as were the vodka and orange that we had to toast the flight, i wont complaining too much.

 

Arriving in newark was an experience though, and it wasn't quite what we wanted - having to wait at immigrations for almost 2 hours, just for a 2 minute check of 2 finger prints, an eye scan and an electronic passport check, it was just an opportunity to share a few minutes of un-quality time with shaz and an middle ages indian guy who talked as if he flew every other day - what a crappy amount of his life he would have lost in terminals that would be!

 

The pickup car to the city was an event in itself and the spanish van driver who picked us up certainly had a few choice words for expedia ... seeing as they took a small slice of action for setting it all up, and being a hater or arriving at airports and being ripped off totally by local taxi drivers it was a feeling i found impossible to sympathise with.

 

it was amusing though when he said that to walk through central park at night, you had better bring along your webley - and no one in the bus knew it was a handgun except me ( what a colourful childhood I must have had ... or was it just that i paid more attention to hollywood movies, ha ha ).

 

the trip to an all time low when i arrived at my hostel and a group of 4 spanish students were checking in ahead of me. One group of 4 students ... 45 minutes later they finally left the reception. the fecking annoying girl who was leading the group wanted to check, re check and then recheck the bill time and time again. first asking for the price per person per night, then what each person would pay, then to verify that the deposit had been knocked off, then back to how many nights were being staying in which rooms.

 

for a person who normally considers himself patient after about 20 minutes i gave up being polite and started getting exasperated ... huffing, puffing and giving any of their group extremely dirty looks when one was foolish enough to look over as if to say "were not with her, honest". - but they were and being kept waiting that long just because someone is overly anal about splitting the bill is not the best was to put a big beaming smile on my face at almost 11pm ( local time ) at night after being up since 6am ( UK time ) .

 

the rest of the gang were staying in a semi-posh hotel around the corner and on the drive in we had made plans to meet up after an hour to go and stretch our legs in the city. the girls wanted to hit the town and paint it red, but wanting to wake up in the morning and not in the evening, meant that i said that i would prefer a short stroll.

 

however after waiting up for an additional 2 hours and even leaving messages at reception should anyone arrive for me ( as the hostel rooms did not ahve telephones ) i finally gave up the ghost and went to bed a bit miffed that noone had come a calling.

 

i would have tried to kill time by surfing the Internet, but even at 1am the hostel Internet room was chock as was the rooftop veranda that overlooked the darkened city streets.

 

first thing in the morning it was a lot better, and 8am was the time when i finally managed to check emails and view my facebook notifications.

 

Ah, New York, New York ... what fun and excitement do you have in store for me today?

Travelling

I seem to spend a lot of my time thinking about, reading about talking about and writing about travelling.

Only the other month I found out that I am not the first person in my family to visit Colombia, as my uncle and aunt went there a few years back.

Neither am I the only person I know who has made plans to travel around the world. Plenty of people I know have taken years out and went backpacking across entire continents, and one guy that I occasionally catch the same train home told me just last week that he had successfully made three world trips.

My friend David has been to Timbuktu, and one of the consultants at work is so well travelled that he has gone to USA over seventy times, that's three times more visiting just one country than all the countries I have even been to in my entire life.

Now admittedly all these other people are older than me, with my uncle and the consultants both well into their retirement, but the truth of the matter is, I will never be the most travelled person I know unless I become a hermit or devote my entire life to doing nothing but travelling for the next thirty years of my life.

Is this such a bad thing? No, not really. Life is not all about being the world best at anything, or at lest not for me, it is about the journey. I could give up everything I know and do nothing but travel until my feet drop off or I really do become the most travelled man on the planet, but what sort of warped achievement would that really be.

Unless I have some great stories to tell, a few cracking photos to display AND some good friends and family willing to listen to me, in the end what will it all have gotten me!?!

In 100 years time, who would care that Dickon Springate surpassed all other men and travelled to every country on the entire world?

Would I be hailed as a revolutionary and spiritual guru with big marble statues erected in my honour, or be ridiculed as a lonesome wandering bum never recorded as doing anything worthwhile except juggle a myriad of passports or be able to ask "At what time does the train leave?" in a dozen different languages?

No, as I have said before, for me life is a journey not a destination. I have always intended to enjoy the ride and get as much out of it as possible, but to make it the only thing in my life would be to have made a wasted journey.

And so, although I am not handing in my passport just yet, I am considering exchanging my wandering shoes for something a bit more comfortable.

When Your Handed A Lemon...

Just a quickie this time round, but I wanted to share one of my favourite quotes, and this one goes a long way in explaining why I always try to make the best of even a bad situation.

 

"I'm a great lover of fresh orange juice, but when they hand me lemons hey, I make lemonade"

 

You see, if your real thirsty and go down to the shops to get some oranges but all you can buy is lemons, you basically got two options :-

 

a) You could piss and moan and complain that you aint got your orange juice, go thirsty and sooner or later the lemons will go off.

 

Or b) ... you can shrug your shoulders, think "oh well, it could be worse" then carry on regardless and make a refreshing lemonade to quench your thirst.

 

My trip to Colombia started off as bas as bad could be - delayed flights, lost luggage, alone in  a strange country and let down by those I thought cared for me, and I could have let this get my head down and think of it as a failure.

 

But instead, I refused to let it beat me, made a few adjustments to my schedule, went out and got a new suitcase and clothes, still did all the stuff I normally like doing and ensured that when I made it to Medellin and met up with the good folks out there I enjoyed it as much as I could too.

 

It wasn't what I planned, but I like to think that I made the best of the situation.

 

So ... when life throws YOU a lemon, make lemonade

Images of Colombia

A Night to Remember in Medellin

So anyway, David who seemed to have appointed himself as my personal guide for the day, said that we were going to have a traditional meal at Paula's Aunties house, but he may as well have said feast. There was nothing lavish, but a huge plate of home made food that tasted as good as anything I've ever tried and even belching there was just too much to eat in one sitting for a small guy like me.

They made a joke about rude guests who left food also left by a window, so after struggling for almost an hour to finish it all, I had to reply that I think I was in need of a parachute or a pair of wings.

After lunch we went to one of the highest parts of Medellin, a place where they had recreated some authentic buildings and were doing their best to make it like a living museum, which was very cool.

There were a few souvenir shops, but they were all tastefully done and without the private hawkers / sellers in the main square made a refreshing change from the usual tourist trap, as did the fact that the legitimate sellers who were their didn't pounce on you the second you came within a potential snaring range.

The view from the place overlooked the city centre, and you could see the plans for the new rail link, the old cathedral and everything in between. I have to say that I was surprised the amount of tall skyscrapers there were in Medellin. Not only do they show that the industry and economy are again higher than I expected, but with all the vast areas of the country undeveloped it strongly suggested at prime city space being of premium value.

Stopping for a cool beer and ice cream we then made our way back down the windy road to the city centre before driving to a cool place for some drinks. At this stage Davids cousin called in a couple of her friends, and if I had trouble keeping my thoughts pure before now it was impossible. Three young, happy, sexy singletons who all were all a bit curious about the new addition to the crowd and who he was { me } was more than enough to put a huge smile on my face { and create a huge something else that I need not go into right now!!! }.

It was the perfect spot for a few drinks, and with prices of three for one of cocktails all day long, a few rounds of drinks for seven only cost me about £30, and it only cost me as this was indeed my round, with them not even trying to take advantage of my "white thus rich" status.

As the night went on, I decided that David's cousins was indeed a true cutie-pie and I could not but hope that I would see her again the next day. However the night wasn't even over yet, and so David suggested we went to a new spot, where the drinks were more expensive but the women even hotter { was that even possible ? }, and of course he was proud to be able to show off even more of his city at the same time.

This was the only truly sad part about the whole trip, for as soon as we got there, for some unknown reason that came as fast as a runaway train, one of David's friends got all up in his face and they came to blows. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe the heat, maybe just the Latino passionate culture ... maybe even something I had done without realising it, but whatever it was, it came out of the blue and ruined an otherwise perfect day.

So after everyone tried to calm them both down, after about an half hour we called it a night and David drove me back to his place with his cousin. Up to this point, I was due to spend the night with Paula's auntie but the boys were her two sons, so this was impractical and as they speak but a little English and I speak but a little Spanish and David was doing all the driving ... it made sense all round for me to go with him.

Back at David's I was again impressed with the decent furniture, decor and high-fi equipment. He had made a very nice little pad for himself and again showed that a hard worker in Colombia could have as nice a standard of life as a hard worker in the UK.

We stayed up and chatted for a few more hours and he introduced me to his girlfriend, need I say that she too had looks a model would be jealous of, I doubt it! Me and Davids cousin did a bit of a nighttime stroll though the city on our own, which is always something I love to do anyway, while we popped out for more drinks { the local rum is like water to them ... well almost } and then at about 02:00 I had to call it quits.

Up until then my body was still on UK time, which meant that over there I was waking up at 04:00 and going to bed as early as 19:00, but that one night sort of violently shoved my body in Colombian time properly, and it was no more early nights for me after that.

Even More In Medellin

Well I got back home yesterday morning at around 09:30 and after a short trip to my mums for her birthday party I came home, thought I would have a quick kip to rid myself of any overdue tiredness and then slept for fifteen hours. Wow, I never realised I was that tired but the travelling must have totally knocked me for six, as I've not slept that much undisturbed sleep in years.

And then as soon as I woke up and checked my blog I realised, Oops, I didn't really finish the last post properly, so here is the rest.

The people, ahhhh, the people.

I've been to quite a few places now, but the friendliness and warmth that I felt from these wonderful people still takes my breath away.

I had chosen to visit Colombia because a good friend at work, Paula, is from Medellin and she said it was the best place on earth. Knowing how few true friends I have made from work and the fact that I've already met her friends, brother, mum, dad and even cousins, when she suggested I go to her home city and meet more of her family I could not really say no and I am sure glad that I went.

From the moment they met me at the airport to the moment they dropped me off again I felt like I belonged. At no stage did I feel like I was a stranger among them, nor that I was a foreign VIP that they needed or deserved to receive any special attention. I was just at once part of their lives.

I did my best to speak Spanish wherever I could, which was more and more as I continued to create many new mini sentences by dredging my memory for every last word I knew, and I always introduced myself properly in Spanish before adding the line about my Spanish being poor.

The fact that I tried and kept on trying I believe was one of the big reasons why I didn't feel out of place, as they felt at east speaking in Spanish to each other and to me, unless they had something they really wanted to get across to me without any chance of confusion, when they would turn to David and he would translate perfectly for me.

The other reason was that I have always tried to be a good guy, honest, trusting and humble. I do not go throwing around me past, successes or money in other peoples face, and am happy most of the time to applaud others for there's.

So anyway ... after I was met at the airport and a long drive through the most idyllic countryside imaginable, we made it to central Medellin and to my friend Paula's aunties house.
Colombia and Medellin are not as poor as the media like to make out, and just because they are in South America, do not be fooled that the property or staying in a hotel will cost you pennies.

A good night in a decent hotel in Bogota would still cost you a tidy sum and to buy a large estate with a fancy town house on it you are still talking more than the average westerner could afford on their normal salary.

Sure, the Colombian government are selling off some of their cheaper end of the range apartments for around £20,000 but then you can go the the worst place in Liverpool and do the same thing, just without the hot weather, the superb mountain backdrop or the friendly natives.

And the women. Boy oh boy, I never believed Paula when she said that back home she was just one of the girls, not until I had seen it here with my own eyes. Here in Medellin was the home of the sexiest women on the planet.

Now I don't want to sound rude or arrogant but this just isn't a normal city. Ive met stunningly pretty Chinese girls but wandering around China the average woman was fair but nothing special. Same about English women, Spanish, Romanian ... go anywhere else in the world and you will meet a few sexy women but the Jane average of their cities are exactly that, average. Not in Medellin.

Here it seemed that almost EVERY woman was a knockout. The woman selling T-shirts, the woman behind the grocery counter, the barmaid, the neighbour, the neighbours younger sister, the woman pushing the pram down the road ... everywhere I looked was a vision of beauty, that I would be equally proud to have on my arm. Everyone with curves, long dark hair, olive skin, slim, pretty face and an air of happiness that I have never experienced anywhere else in the world.

Why the first time a guy goes out there with a girl he would have to be wearing blinkers like a workhorse not to have his eyes stray, though I suppose in time any amount of beauty becomes common place, but for a tourist or visitor ... it was paradise!

And the guys ... well I'm straight, but the guys here are no slouches neither, and I'd be willing to bet that the young ones would have no problem finding a girl in any part of the world they were in.

Arrival in Medellin

So anyway ... my holiday in Bogota wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, mainly because despite having a few Internet contacts they all ended up blowing me out or not replying to my emails when I got out here, and thus ended up spending all my time alone, apart from the times when I was spending money like in the shops, the hairdressers, the restaurants or whatever.

But this was only the prelude to the REAL holiday in Colombia, the trip to Medellin to hang out with some of Paola's folks back where they all started and have their roots. This was the reason why I came out here in the first place, and without this I would have shelved Colombia way to the back of my list of places to visit, especially going solo.

It started off with a few names on a scrap of paper, with phone numbers and a vague promise of meeting up if I should make it all the way to Medellin. Well fly out to Colombia I had, and then onward to Medellin I did, so it was a very welcome sight to find a shop at the airport lounge that sold mobile recharger's or there is not telling what might have happened.

When I arrived at the airport to find no one with my name on a piece of paper and all the other passengers got picked up I made the call. I called my contact, who then said that they were at work until 6pm, but had arranged to send someone else out here to pick me up. Not a promising start.

An hour later, after making a few lengths of the entire arrivals hall, this car pulls up and seeing as I was the only left standing on the platform, and I am of course easily spotted as being Caucasian, they spotted me first and came up to grab my stuff.

Relief instantly flooded through me ,as along with my friends auntie who speaks limited English, there was also a guy that was doing the driving and he was really something else. He had a really calm attitude to him, he was friendly and approachable on a lot of subjects and having lived in London for 4 years and New York for 15 more, there was no problems with language other than he still had a slight Yanky twang as it were.

This guy, who had also done a fair amount of travelling, was gonna be a good pal while I was out here, and that was alright by me.

Driving through the countryside from Medellin airport to the city was really something else and if you have never seen a complete vista of a lush green mountain range in the full 360, speckled with small hamlets all around then you have not seen anything. This place was like the best parts of Spain, New Zealand and Dominican Republic all in one, and I could instantly see why Paola is proud of her heritage and city ... she has every reason to be.

This place had warmth, plenty of greenery in all shapes and sizes, olive skinned beauties everywhere I looked, and an air of post Mexican cowboy & western films of the John Wayne or Ronald Regan era, I mean it really had it all.

The drivers all seem to be Jedi masters, as they weave in and out of each other be it in a old beaten up Beetle or brand new BWM, and then of course you have to add the thrill of the motor cyclists and the horse carts as well. The law out here stated that every motorcyclist has to wear a big puffy safety jacket with their registration number on the back, and with the heat that's a receipt of bad BO and several showers a day.

All the buildings had their own character and each street was unlike any other, as one minute you could be driving down a fully tarmacked road with car showrooms off to one side and high skyline hotels the other, but 2 minutes later if you hang a right turn you are suddenly going down a wide dusty path with no pavement on either side and the rust and boned of broken down buildings almost encroach on your car as it drives by.

But no matter where you are, or what direction you look in, look, in the distance you will always see the pastel greens and browns of a distant mountain range reaching high up above where you were.

Rules of Engagement

I have had it mentioned that this trip to Bogota so far has not been the most successful or action packed of adventures, and while this will have pleased mum and a few others back home who still call me crazy for coming here in the first place, its with equal doses of a few emotions that I agree.

The things that I generally do on holiday are not every ones cup of tea, and if everyone thought the same way then life would be boring, but to me they often bring a little form and structure to judge between places.

Firstly when I visit a place I want to know someone there, so that we can go around and do the local scene and not just the tourist areas. Having been given warnings of "don't stray from the hotel" being issued for just about every city outside of the Medway towns that I visit, its harder to do this and get the full measure of a place.

Likewise everywhere has its own charms, its own kinks and comparing two places often seems like comparing a fruit to a vegetable - similar but just not on the same level. So whenever I go anywhere I try to do lots of stuff, see many of the sights, meet the people, but also to do a few things the same everywhere and thus have a yard stick of comparison.

Thimbles, keyrings, postcards, McDonald's, hand fan, Internet cafes, litter, architecture, hotel room information leaflets, traffic, language - a whole host of seemingly random things but in my mind they help put things in perspective and its why I shy away from the "all-inclusive" deals that seem so sterile of originality that they may as well be in another town in the UK - just a bit hotter, or nearer to a beach of whatever.

I think this was one of my long ago ex's fault, as even after we parted company and stayed friends she encouraged me to just go to somewhere that you have never been to before and just see what happens.

Now as Ive done that a few times and been bored shit-less, these days I do try and fill my time a little better, plan it more, have a few backups in case my plan A goes awry { and for some strange reason don't they always!! }, and even then I'm not immune to a few last minute hiccups.

More of Bogota

Bogota is a truly remarkable place.

The backdrop of the entire city is a mesmerising vista of lush green rolling hills, where anything could be waiting to be discovered, uncovered or indeed actually hiding from the truth.

The streets are a mix of modern shops, broken down apartment blocks and bulldozed rubble arenas just waiting to decide what they are going to be in future.

Yellow cabs are flying down the streets in all directions, unless they are hovering outside a nearby hotel or shopping complex.

Uniformed security guards patrol the most populated parts, although their age ranges from as young as late teens to, I would judge by my eye, around the 70 mark. How a 70 year old would be bale to chase down or fire straight and true at a fleeing criminal I have my doubts, but still it is mildly reassuring that they were there.

During June the daylight streams in through the cracks in the curtain as early as 4am, and as soon as the dawn comes so does the heavy traffic, and its at times like these that I wished the hotels all had double glazing, as the noise still sounds so close that it could be right in the hallway.

But the most remarkable sound I hear each day, to my western ears at least, is the genuine steam locomotives that chug their was through the city bringing the tourists and the workers to their destinations at all times of day.

The night time comes too early in June, and by 5pm it is getting dark and with the high hills surrounding the city it does not take long for darkness to descend and engulf the entire city before your eyes.

I am not sure if soup is a hotel speciality or a national breakfast dish, but I am enjoying the food here as much as anywhere else in the world. Sure their burgers could do with a makeover, but the pasta carbonara that I had yesterday was simply irresistible and it was only through a great force of will that I did not immediately insist on seconds of this superb dish.

The people here in the hotel, the shopping complex and the taxis all seem to be both friendly and able to speak maybe a few basic words in English, but not enough for full conversation, which has left me bored to tears lacking in decent conversation as my Spanish is little better than their English. However, having said that, I have not had any problems in making myself understood and even got complimented for my accent yesterday, so that is some achievement I suppose.

The weather here is meant to be cloudy and thunder storms this week, so I cannot blame the fact that I have zero chance of getting a tan, but that is another thing about the locals, many are barely darker than I am, and certainly I would never call myself tanned or olive skinned.

So many preconceptions are being revised in my mind, save a few that remain very stereotypical and genuine in the same breath.

The Colombians love their food, their wine, their football and have a wonderful fluent and sexy accent to their words, much more than the Spanish I have met, so perhaps this is South American influence, but whatever it is, I like it.

Sadly I have had no news from any of my Colombian friends or from the airport about my lost luggage, so I am still at a loss for what to do today and boredom will again have me leaving my hotel in search of something, anything, to feel alive. Today I might try and find a salon and get my haircut ... who knows, it could be worse!

First Foray Into The Big City

And wow, I must say that I am impressed.

 

The licenced taxis have lists of fairs on big plastic cards clearly displayed on the reverse of their driving chair, as well as a full large colour photo of the driver including his details. For those who don't fully get the significance it means that there is almost zero chance of getting ripped off as you can see what your have clocked up as you go and at all times can see what you are going to pay for, and who is driving you.

 

In the city centre, which would have been a fairly long walk  had I a map of the city in English, there was a fairly new and impressive shopping centre. All the usual shops you could think of, albeit the Spanish equivalent, and a few that I had never seen before were all laid out over a few floors spread out over a large area.

 

I wont say that it was a piece of cake, and even my limited Spanish helped considerably, but within an hour I was able to purchase most of the items on my shopping list. Clothes, smellies, travel bag, mini phrase book, all ticked off. I did stop in a mobile shop but could not see any chargers, and having left my own handset behind was sure that my Spanish was not up to trying and explain that I wanted a recharger for a phone I could barely remember the make of.

 

I also tried to look for a salon, to get a nice hair cut, but this would most likely be in the shops outside the main complex, which meant going out into the wide open and away from the armed security guards, taxi rank and risk being frisked on the way back into the complex again to get a taxi back to my hotel.

 

With all the negative press that Colombia received, I would say that in the shopping complex there were enough armed security guards to occupy Paris.. Ok, bad example, but you know what I mean. At no stage did I feel sized up by any local criminal element, and I felt considerably safer than walking home from work after staying late in London for a few drinks.

 

I even managed to negotiate my way into the cinema to show Shrek 3 with subtitles for the Spanish viewers, instead of the normal over dubbed version that was showing much more frequently. Not that Shrek 3 would have been my first choice of films, but I have to keep a little continuity going here, and I have always believed that if you get into a sort of pattern or routine then you can forget where you are and truly be miles away from anywhere and still have a peaceful heart and steady hand.

 

However, the fact that the cinema only had salty popcorn is one mark against it, but the fact that i was the first in which meant i could ignore the chosen allocated seat more than made up for it.

 

All in all, I felt ready for anything, and that is exactly what I got when I got back to my hotel, as the last thing i was expecting was for them to have realised that I am perhaps abusing the Internet facilities and request that at this stage I pay the balance of my bill, including the full 6 nights accommodation, lest I skip out with one day left owing a substantial Internet bill.

 

With money being almost no-object ( the prices here are still very cheap when compared to back home ), as this is perhaps the only way to keep sane and feel in contact with the outside world I did not object to this and am glad that I bought along a spare credit card, just in case something happens to the first one - like it getting blocked, which is exactly what happened when I was in Chester that one time!

 

Back in familiar surroundings, I am just going to post this and then rush back to my room to freshen up and try on my new purchases, hoping to all that is lucky in my life that their mediums are the same as the English ones. Wish me ... er ... scrub that, fingers crossed eh.

Bogota the Day After

Well I woke up today with a mixed bag of emotions.

The previous day I had received an email off my "friend".

Not a personal visit or a phone call, but an email, and even that was bad news as she said that she has come down with a mysterious illness that keeps her at home and away from telephones - but seems perfectly able to go online ( on the family computer in a different room from her bed ) several times a day.

Not surprisingly I did not believe a single word of the email, and it only steeled me on to further adventure today.

I also had not heard back from the airport so my luggage was still lost and I was entering day three of wearing the same clothes ... yeuck.

So the question I know face is ... after being tricked into visiting a foreign city where the people are friendly but speak a language you know less than the average 5 year old does, and your lost luggage has not turned up, what on earth do you do next?

One answer is to hide out in the hotel, drink and eat as much as possible, watch the football that seems to be on most channels most of the time and then head off home with your tail between your legs and vow never to be so stupid again. Its a possibility, but not that likely, knowing my high sense of adventure.

Another option is to hit the local bars, try to drink yourself into oblivion and chase a few of the local women whilst also trying not to get rolled whilst drunk the whole time in the hope that you can sober up in time to catch the plane home.

Alternatively, there are a variety of options open that require a whole heap on money could be to hire a bodyguard and a willing female escort for the remainder of the week and go out like it was your last week alive.

My choice ... is almost to carry on regardless.

I am still in a foreign country, still on holiday, still have my wallet intact with my credit cards and although it will eat into slightly more debt, I dont relish the option of staying in the same underwear and clothes for an entire week in a country where the weather is both hot, humid and during its rainy season.

So, I need to grab a map and leave behind my belongings in case of being mugged, then catch a taxi into the city centre where hopefully I can replace some of my lost travel supplies, pick up a few souveneirs for the folks back home, sample a haircut and possibly even a McDonalds if there is time and then get a taxi back to the hotel to pat myself on the back, before getting drunk while writing postcards and watching football, ha ha.

Keep my spirits up, that's the name of the game, I may be knocked back a bit, but I'm far from beaten and while there is still a breath left in me, fresh from reading a Clive Cussler NUMA adventure that is cram packed with larger that life heroes, I forget into the fray once more to try and carve out a little piece of personal glory that I may one day be able to bore my children and grandchildren with.

The Truth About Birthdays Wishes

Now that I am in Colombia, I can finally tell a secret. It is not an evil or dark secret, but a light and good secret.

 

It is also a polite reminder and maybe even a warning to others.

 

There is an old belief that says on a persons birthday, where friends and family gather to wish you well, they will bring forth a celebration cake with lit candles upon it. It is said that if you can manage to blow out all the candles in one go, without help from anyone else, that it is possible to make a wish that will come true, as long as you do not tell anyone what the wish was.

 

Now it just so happens, that many years ago, as a small child of about 8 or 9, I made a birthday wish that I wanted to travel all around the world.

 

A few years later I made another birthday wish that I wanted to make love to many sexy women from all around the world.

 

Both these wishes were made before I became a teenager and I kept both wishes a deep secret.

 

Lots of people know that I like travelling but no one knew that I had made it my birthday wish to do so.

 

Well this weekend I managed to set foot on my sixth continent ( and also my twenty second country ), which is a feat that few people can boast, and all would agree conclusively can count as having "travel all around the world".

 

In my full thirty one years of being alive I have also managed to have relations with lots of different women from various different nationalities.

 

At first I thought this to be a blessing, when the figure first reached twenty I considered it a curse, but only now after more still do I realise that it is neither ... it is just exactly what I wished for.

 

In my late twenties I have often moaned and complained about the fact that I could charm and receive love, but found it impossible to keep it.

 

Time after time I would meet a girl ( or woman ) that seemed ideal to me, that was pretty, kind and caring. Time after time things would quickly progress and then for no reason whatsoever all these relationships would fail and collapse totally in the space of a few weeks or months, and nothing I could say or do could prevent it.

 

It was never the case that I was dumped because I was a bad person as I never beat them, cheated on them, abused them mentally or physically, stole from them or failed to give them the respect, honesty or attention that they wanted or craved.

 

On all the occasions I then asked my friends and / or family what was I doing wrong, and each time the answer came back slightly different, but most of the time it was said that I was trying too hard, too eager or just going for the wrong type of girl.

 

I have never fully agreed with any of these hypothesis, but equally I have never had a better argument or theory to suggest. Until now...

 

My new theory is that no self respecting woman would be happy for her partner to go gallivanting around the world and making love with different women all the time. However the magic of my childhood wish was such that it proceeded my more mature and reasonable request of wanting to find but a single partner and settle down to raise a family.

 

In short, I was destined to never find true love until I had first lived out my childhood wishes.

 

Now few people these days believe in real magic, this I know to be true, and I do not expect to receive many positive replies or comments to this entry. Some will think that this is my own way of justifying my actions, and I admit that from the outside it could seem like a logical conclusion to come up with.

 

However, anyone who really knows me, knows that I am a strong believer in morals and righteousness, that I disapprove of playboys and those who go around breaking hearts without a care, and that it has been my strongest desire to find a partner to settle down with. Coming from a large and close knit family, and hating the idea of being an "old" father, none who know me would say that I live or enjoy a Casanova lifestyle.

 

I do not go out to pubs or clubs, where the chances of finding a one-night-stand are at their highest, and I have do not attempt to have more than one girlfriend on the go at any one time. Neither do I go around boasting or bragging about the amount of women I have had, or what I intend on doing with the next one.

 

Most of the time I keep myself to myself, refrain from discussing most of my sexual history, and am only ever on the lookout for a woman that I can laugh with, enjoy a good conversation with, happily introduce to my family and will at least get on with my friends.

 

So, although there might be many who till read this entry and think I am trying to find some sort of absolution for a life of sin, anyone that knows me will know the truth.

 

All I do hope is, now that I am content to have been around the world, and somewhat shamefully can admit to have more partners than anyone else I know, that the magic of the wish will now have now resolved itself fully and thus I can perhaps at last find true love and happiness, enough to get married and raise a family like most other people.

 

And the reminder or warning I mentioned at the beginning is simple and as old as the birthday belief itself, and it is thus ... "BE CAREFUL OF WHAT YOU WISH FOR, AS YOU MIGHT JUST RECEIVE IT".

The Worst of Starts in Bogota

My trip to Colombia has not got off to the best of starts.

Leaving work was a battle in itself, for various reasons, which I have mentioned in an earlier post.

Gatwick was little better, with arriving over 2 hours before my flight was due to take off and yet almost walking straight onto the plane as the queues for check in and to get through security is tighter than ever.

Atlanta, America. Ah ...what to say about this place.

Firstly, I had to queue to go through customs and replace my luggage, despite only wanting to board the next flight out. A queue of 1500 people ahead of me wanted the same thing, and that was just the foreigners.

Having to be ID with both Index fingers and looking into a webcam to pose for their records, was only mildly frustrating, but the fact that I could time the yanks getting in a record 35 seconds, while us poor immigrants had to wait on average 10 minutes each meant that even with about 50 booths I felt that at the end of it I could fully understand why people the world over hate the states. I wasn't even wanting to be here, and already I was feeling almost like killing someone.

Well as normal i tried the McDonald's, and I think I understand now why American women give good BJ's, as their strawberry milkshakes require such a high powered level of suction that the average milkshake drinker must be able to beat a Dyson hands down. It was nice, but too thick and did nothing to quench my thirst.

The fries were the best in the world, top marks for that, pity that the actual burger let it down a bit, being only so so in its taste. I must say that I also did not rate their hot apple pies either, they were too doughy and the filling was all stodgy. So far, though I don't often rate England for many things, its McDonalds apple pies have to be the rare exception to the rule, as they do just that ... they rule supreme.

Waiting in the lounges before the second trip I wasn't really expecting to hear a piano belting out non-stop interlinking hits from the Beatles and John Lennon, but I have to doubt the pianists choice of songs, for one of them was Eleanor Rigby ... with lyrics like "all the lonely people, where do they all belong" - ironic, or just melancholy ... for me it was too much the later.

After the departure gate had been changes for the second time and been delayed by a further 3 hours it now meant arriving in Bogota at around midnight, instead of 9pm, and with it went the last hope of meeting my friend tonight, as I cannot expect anyone to wait around at an airport until 1am for someone to arrive.

However it was even worse than that, as despite sitting next to a delightful girl who was born in Colombia but raised in the states, my spirits fell even further when it was finally realised that they had indeed left my luggage back in Atlanta, along with about 10 other peoples belongings.

No paperwork, no phone charger, no clothes ... just me, my passport, the book I bought in the waiting lounge and my wallet were all that I arrived and took with me out of that airport.

Realising how bad my luck was, i decided not to risk getting an unlicenced taxi, so after haggling with a guy to get a receipt, i just walked out of his taxi and up to the rank, as I had been suggested at the start, and after a short but manic ride through the city at 2am in the morning I reached my hotel.

At this stage I have to say that carrying a mobile phone with internet access was a true lifesaver, as it was about the only way I could have not only filled in all the lost property forms, but also been able to ask which hotel I was needing to get to. Also a good memory came into play, as even without this I might have been able to get there by asking for the "El Belvedere Hotel in Transversal"

Here things took a turn for the better, as the receptionist did indeed speak English, my room was able to be spotted with just my passport as ID and the room was clean, tidy, has a tv, minibar and spare refresher kits for toothbrush, etc, etc.

Only thing I have to say is, after being on your feet for 26 hours, regardless of spending some of it asleep on a plane, always read the directions carefully or you too may end up trying to shave having just stuck a load of antiperspirant gel on your mush ... not something that I want to be remembered for, but there you have it.

The morning came all too, and it felt as though I had only got a few minutes sleep, but after a hearty breakfast of ... pineapple and melon segments ... I managed to wolf down a cup of coffee and try to get in touch with my friend. Pity her brother / father answered the phone and neither spoke any English or understood who I wanted to speak to.

So now I'm left in my hotel, with no belongings, unable to get in touch with my friend and thus with my cellphone dead bound to stick to my room else we miss each other again, having now sent her a few emails to say to her to call me.

I hope that my luggage arrives today and that the rest of the trip goes more smoothly.

Next stop ... the America's

There is always a little bit of nervousness when i embark on my next crazy misadventure, and this one is no exception.

 

It did not help that today was also almost the day when we made our receptionist at work redundant, which didn't really help the mood of the atmosphere in the company.

 

What made it even worse is no one except me and Amy going to her leaving lunch, few people chipping in for her leaving card or present and everyone shooting out to go to their own secret lunch that started at 12.30 and didn't come back, not that they told me that until I realised at 5.15.

 

Some people have no people skills and it shows.

 

My anger at the injustice of it all was too much for me and so I just grabbed my bag and walked out at that point, without even saying goodbye to my boss, not that in her frazzled state she would have noticed anything amiss.

 

Getting to Gatwick was a bit of a struggle as I always seem to end up stuck in the slow moving queue of mental inadequates who are unable to decide where they want to go, when they plan on coming back ( if at all ) and how they want to pay.

 

When the queue next to you goes down faster than a zip line and you think your growing roots is never a good sign when you know that your bushed tired and a hotel room is still an agonising hour away.

 

Once I got to the airport finding my way out and into the open air was just as much of a task, and i followed the signs to the "hotels" only to find that unless you break down a emergency door you cant get out that way, and had to double back and find the arrivals lounge and go from there.

 

Once across a longish road I was there all safe and sound and able to make my way to my room, at last... where i jumped in the showed before bed only for mum to call the second i turn the hot water on.

 

Life eh .... who knows WHAT will happen next.

 

But, apart from a short stop over to change planes in Atlanta, I will be in Bogota before my head hits the pillow for a second time.

New Wonders of The World

We all know that there were 7 ancient wonders of the world.

 

Well, through war, natural disaster and the collapse of a few empires there is only one left ... the Great Pyramid of Giza.

 

So some boffins have decided to have a go at selecting a few for consideration of the next set of 7 wonders of the world.

 

When you get time please go on, log on ( its free ) and vote for your chosen 7.

 

Here is the link to go there :- http://www.new7wonders.com/

 

For those who wanted to know what I chose ( but please chose your own, I am in no way a leading authority on these things ), my choice was ...

 

Angkor Wat (Cambodia), Chichen Itza (Mexico), Easter Island (Island off coast of Chile), Great Wall (China), Manchu Pichu (Peru), Stonehenge (England) and Timbuktu (Mali).

 

And anyone who knows me well can already guess that, having already been to China, living in UK, and off to visit Peru later this year, why and that given enough time and money I will delight in taking a few pilgrimages to see the magnificent vistas for myself.

 

Take care and peace to all