I missed the bit about Rio. We spent 2 nights in Rio after a 12 hour bus ride from Curitiba, and it was surprisingly much more fun than I expected. The people of Rio are cool (maybe a little too cool?), but they have a right to be, because they are some cool Mofos over there. The guys are buff, really buff, and the girls are gorgeous, mostly because they believe they are gorgeous, which tells me that confidence is the real key. So Ipanema was too cool, and we were fortunate enough to get good weather, which meant that everybody flocked to the beaches while we were there so that David and myself could stare out onto the beach all day, which is what we tried to do until it started getting too hot. The unfortunate thing about the weather being so good, was it brought out the derros onto the beach, and it's hard to judge whether it was such a good or bad thing that we were offered a variety of drugs to be used with any of our orifices, but nonetheless it added some colour. Amongst the other highlights of Rio was watching David spend the whole day asking strangers about how to catch buses to the sugar loaf, christ the redeemer and the dodge markets in central Rio. One of the problems with David's high quality physical (almost slapstic) quest for directions, (think of David mimicking christ with his hands extended) was his inability to discern between a dodgy looking bastard and an old harmless looking lady. I personally would have chosen the latter, but my co-pilot was more than happy to give everybody a chance to answer his questions even though one looked like a time-worn homemaker and the other looked like he would have been more happy with our wallets in his pockets. To add more feeling to our choice of transport and seeing as it was not recommended/tried by most people we met, it appeared that in all the buses to all of our destinations, we were the only tourists on the public buses, and at every destination there appeared to be half a million tourists. This clearly spoke to me, but it was David's last day of his vacation, so he was allowed full piloting rights. Finally, after 9 days in Brazil, we made it to a Churasco Restaurant, which for all those who don't know, is a restaurant where they bring out skewers of bbq'ed pork/chicken/lamb/beef and is all you can eat of everything. Having eaten my guts out (read, nearly vomitted the 4 kilos of meat I consumed), I was struck by a large collage of famous faces pictures in the foyer area. Porcao is a churasco restaurant which is popular enough to be an international chain and amongst the famous people that had traversed the restaurant (that I know of) was Naomi Campbell, some gorgeous Brazillian actress which I can't remember the name of, and most importantly, that fat bastard number 9 of the Brazillian international soccer team....... I guess he wasn't lying when he denied rumours about eating too much pie.
Then to iceland, not that the 2 days in London in between Rio and Iceland aren't worth mentioning, but it was spent eating and trying hard to forget the memories of David. David, my travelling partner was bound for home and was to spend 48 hours flying because of his round the world ticket without his luggage which had been lost between Rio and London.
Iceland started off with a bang. Having needed to urgently visit the restroom after getting off the plane, I spent so much time there that by the time I made passport control, I was walking through a room empty of passengers and had the choice between 2 officials both who looked much like 2 oversized Dolph Lungdrens from Rocky 4. Having asked me the routine questions, my conversation with Captain Ivan Drago number 1 and number 2 went something like this:
(please watch rocky 4 to get the accents)
Cpt Ivan Drago 1:
Ly Yiv (shitting himself slightly) : Sorry? who?
Cpt Ivan Drago 2 (smirks): Toby, he is from Australia
Ly Yiv (thinking of making a run for it): I'm afraid I don't know a Toby
(the 2 Cpt Ivan Drago's start discussing in Ocelandic/Sputnik and start laughing)
Cpt Ivan Drago 1:
Ly Yiv (jocks now soiled) : I'm from Adelaide, I'm afraid I don't know a Toby..
Cpt Ivan Drago 2:
Ly Yiv :
Cpt Ivan Drago 1:
Cpt Ivan Drago 2:
Noticing that he hadn't released my passport to me yet, my good memory allowed me to remember the INXS reality tv show and asked whether it was to do with that, but apparently I was only partially correct and my friend Toby is from the second season and appears to be quite popular amongst the Icelandic people, that or it's the only reality tv show they get or it's the only Australian they had ever seen. I would have appreciated it much more if they asked me about Steve Erwin, whose unfortunate death I'd only heard about on Easter Island. He was a nutter, but a cool, enthusiastic and true blue nutter who represented Australia much better than any of the famous Aussie gimps out there now.
To put it straight, Iceland tore me a new one. The place is so seriously hip, and their economy is so far through the roof that it appears that England may be Iceland's younger brother when it comes to expensive crap. I stayed at Domus guesthouse which I recommend, and for $45 Aussie a night I was treated to a 25 bed warehouse Dorm Room, but space was plenty and rooms clean enough. Too bad everything, especially the Showers smelt severely of sulfur (geothermal being their main source of power and heating). All the pretty sites are worth a visit, Geysir, Gullfoss, Pengvellir, blue lagoon thermal baths and the way too cool northern lights. Another cool sight I was fortunate to see was an icelandic attempt at jumpstarting a car. In the 5 days in Iceland, I didn't see a car which was less than 10 years old, so it came as no surprise when at 1 in the morning, I witnessed in the middle of town 2 young lads trying to jumpstart a car with both headlights, hazard lights and interior lights all on.Then there's Mugison who is ostensibly Iceland's most current up and coming musician. Low on travelling cash, and not willing to fork out $130 just to see 1 act for half an hour during 'Iceland Airwaves' (Icelands 4 day Big Day Out), I managed to catch a free Mugison concert at the Prikith Bar, which is much like the Cranker was but barely a quarter the size. Now, Mugison is a good musician and I like the sound, but everytime Mugison decides to sing an English song, I can't help but wonder whether it's a game of placing the words to match the music, because with my salvageable ESL english and 2 glasses of $18 gin and tonics, I couldn't understand for the life of me what the guy was singing about. By the 5th english song, at which point the whole bar was singing along, I had visions of Icelanders, with their Celtic bloodline (which according to History, is very prominent), learning a somewhat advanced form of English, which by far overwhelmed ours, and further provided inarguable evidence that Bjork is a much more supreme artist than I once thought she was. What I once thought was incomprehensible was merely my lack of knowledge and rudimentary understanding of the english language. I salute you Bjork, and Mugison, you rock.
2 nights in Munich, 2 nights in Slovenia, 2 nights in Venice were spent with Tim and Geordie. The old firm was together again, and It was a sweet visit, in quality surroundings..... Munich, cool city, regimented, clean, quality German engineering.... Slovenia, cool city, sexy and magnificent nature surroundings, good ratio, definitely going back there.......... Venice, dodgy eyetalians, but still very cool, great ice cream, great coffee other than the 8 euro coffee at saint Marcs square, funky town, maybe a little too many tourists..... and then to Paris....
In Paris, I hit really relaxed mode..... eat, drink, eat..... wedding (not mine)..... eat, more drink....... Chocolate Expo....... eat lots of chocolate..... lot's of Michel Cluizel.........saw most of the sites last time........ try to say hello to you folks but the keyboard is an absolute bitch...... so no writing, no reading..... just eat..... and after 7 days.... it appears that the brick house is slowly becoming mud again and that thankfully I might very well be back in Sirmixalots good books again. Being so close to Italy you'd think these guys would know how to make a decent cuppa, but it appears not........ found a good coffee shop, espresso excellent, anything with milk sucks. Back to London..... really wound down now.
In London I get this homely feel, only because of the people I stay with. Shout outs to Phuong and Hoa, and Dostal. Thanks for looking after me guys. 7 days in London, is once again an expensive affair, with 3 visits to tate modern (I'm worn out after 4 hours a day) I get a chance to see some of the best exhibitions I've ever seen so check it out if any of you have a chance.......
http://www.tate.org.uk/modern/
David Smith and Fischli & Weiss exhibitions are amazing
Porgy and Bess at the Savoy was too cool, it was unfortunate that the 5 friends I went with didn't like it so much.
and shopping in Convent Gardens I have my brush with fame in the Paul Smith Store where I lock eyes with Jason Statham, who I enter into a staring contest with until he turned away after he decided I recognised him. Folks, he looks like a thug, talks like a thug and I get the impression he really is a thug. 'What Tommy? before ze germans get you?'
Then finally Tokyo, which was way beyond any of my expectations....The Japanese women, like the Brazillian women, hold themselves on a pedestal and under 50 pounds of make up, but it's because of this concerted confidence that you can't help but be allured by them. There's a number of you down this email list in particular who I strongly suggest not going lest you wanted to snap from getting weak at the knees like Bruce Reid. The first evening I decide to hit Shinjuku which is the more famous of the red light districts in Tokyo where I find myself in a coincidental naturally evolving social experiment to which the result is that I now believe I am truly alien to this world. I cross into 'the zone' alongside 2 American sounding blokes at the lights, both looking suspiciously dodgy, and myself in t-shirt carrying backpack. What happens is I am pulled aside by 2 policeman who start rambling some crap in Japanese, and after responding confusedly that I don't speak Japanese, I'm asked to be searched for weapons. Feeling much like Iraq, they tell me I'm in a 'dangelous prace' and I may have a knife. So walking side by side with 2 other tourists, it appears that I'm taken as a suspicious tourist, or I look sufficiently Japanese, but dodgey with my milimeter hair, ragged clothes and pathetic 2 day growth to warrant a 10 minute full bag search. I'm thinking more the latter.
The Japanese don't want me.
Then there's the tourist couple who ask me to take a photo for them along Ginza. Having spoken manageable Australian am thanked about 5 times with head bows and 'arigatos'. Do I freakin talk with a Japanese accent? Did I not say to them 'I think there may not be enough light to take a good photo, but I'll try anyway'. Or did it sound more like 'no light, photo no good, I tly anyway'. For crying out loud.
The English speaking world doesn't want me either.
so at this point I am officially resolved to be of no official origin.
On the other hand, I am now happy to say that I like the Japanese much much more than I did before, and this is merely from the fact that having made myself blindingly lost about 15 times in the 3 days I was there, I was assisted by people on the street with all their might, each and every time. A prime example of this, is when I asked a train driver to help me work out where to catch the next train, to which he exits the train which is due to leave and spends the next 5 minutes helping me while carriage loads of passengers are waiting to leave. I get this kind of help consistently through out every disastrous turn I make, which was made worst by the mad sign fetish that they have. Even if they don't speak a word of english, they will work their arses off to help you on your way. Asking for directions in a coffee shop, I'm helped by 4 assistants and the manager, and with not a single english speaker they help me until it's resolved. This leads me to the belief that a number of us have been considerably harsh to Japanese Tourists because these people will help you in their own country to no end, and sure they plague countries by the bucketload, but people with such goodwill would surely make a good plague.
Glad to be back, off to Cambodia in 2 weeks, so hopefully I can catch some of you before I go, otherwise, I'll catch you at new years, maybe.......
