5 month Annaversary!

... So here I am again... as always, I'm ready to serve and write... to be honest, as time goes by I'm writing more and more nonsense on this thing... its my only link with the world (well obviously that's not true but it sounds better;) ... I've been away for so long that I'm getting a bit senile... yes, its been 5 months today since I started traveling, and I think this blog has started to act like my way to vent (it probably took that form a long time ago!) ... like a person who is a bit lonely, stuck in their bungalow (no offence to bungalow owners!) playing their fifteenth sudoku of the day and leaping at joy at the sound of the phone... that chance to grab the telemarketing jobsworth of a teenager stuck on the phone for an hour... pass the time participating in their survey, and finding ways to shoehorn in my views of the world... so I jump at this chance to blather away to you beautiful people... its, you are, my chance to vent... I thank you for your patience... in truth I should probably have never put that page views thing on the blog because I've started paying too much attention to it... but seriously, thanks to you who read these stupid posts... the people who stick around and care what this fool of a Bristolian is up to... as for those who find their way to this blog purely by accident when searching the web for things of actual use... well, I can only apologise... please be off and on with your work... but let's face it, if you were searching around randomly on the Internet, you're probably not working... you're probably looking for certain niche website... well I am sorry, you won't find any of that filth here... this is wholesome fun for all the family... well except when I use nasty words that start with 'F' or 'S' or even, God forbid, 'C' ... anyway, on with the blog... what have I been up to on this merry pair of islands which is New Zealand?

...Today is what they officially term, a 'Hangover day'... a day of rest and recovery... where your mouth feels like the inside of a particularly old vacuume cleaner, you smell like a flat which has never seen a vacuume cleaner, and you feel like you've just been sucked up and recovered from the filthy bag of a vacuume cleaner... so maybe you could call it a 'Vacuume Clearner day' ... but don't be fooled, I ain't doing any cleaning today... ... last night Matt and his flatmates had a keg party... $12 each and we got a get between a load of us... a good 6-10 glasses of beer was drunk and fun was had... ... if we strip things back a bit to where I was last time I posted... On Friday, after he finished work (what the hell's work?) me and Matt went Tramping (hiking) in the New Zealand bush... Matt's a bit of a dab hand and this Hiking malarkey... also branded with the Fleur-de-lis of a Scouting past... we set off with food, torches... well basically all the stuff you need to hike... they have a great system here where they have like a chain of huts along the trekking paths where you can stay for the night with places to sleep, gas and fresh water and its just $15 (about 7 quid) to stay there (you just buy a ticket from a petrol station before hand)... travelling has been about new experiences, and when we were in the hut I ate Tuna for the first time I can ever remember... it was in a tomato sauce and has a texture not that dissimilar from chicken... it was quite an exotic treat... my eyes have been opened... my horizons have truly been broadened;) ... we set off at 7.30pm and got to the hut at dark... it took 2 hours 20 min to get up there when the signs suggested it would take 4 hours (take that suggested trek time)... but by the end my calves were cramping and I was in dire need of the chocolate brownie which propelled my final ascent... but anyway... this is dull man, get to the party already...

... the next day Matt got a keg in and I had a good night with him and his mates... people were loving the accent and, to be honest, I was loving the role of novelty foreign person... some girls said I talked like a Hobbit... I still haven't figured out if that was a compliment... but anyway, needless to say (but I'll say it anyway), I feel a bit groggy today... I'm now spending the night at a hostel which is near to where I catch a bus early tomorrow to Rotorua (... no I don't know what's there yet... will fill you in in due course) ... So I've just vegged out today, watched Black Swan... it was really good and also kind of scary... I really enjoyed it but am surprised that such an art house kind of film has made such waves and got all up in our proverbial cinematic faces...

... now I'm just waiting for Mum and Dad to get online to have a wee catch up... they've been to India so they probably have more stories to tell then I do (although I'm not sure if they have tried the delicacy of Tuna yet!)

... In less then a week I fly off to Chile and the adventure begins again... I'm nervous and excited just thinking about it... and then in a few short months I'll be back and talking this nonsense to you people face to face rather then cyberically

... keep well my lovely friends and family... as always, I'm thinking about you and missing you all to varying degrees:)

Kiora from Wellington:)

... So now I'm in Wellington, New Zealand's capital city... I'm staying out in the suburb/town of Lower Hatt on a mattress in the living room of Matt Carver, a guy I met on the infamous (in my head) trip to Halong Bay... he was one of the many people I met on that tour, many of whom I met again and again on my way down Vietnam but he had just worked his way up in the opposite direction... anyway, so I'm in the capital (I didn't realise it was the capital at first... thought that was Auckland... silly me) ... Last night I found out that 'Kiora' is Maori for 'hello' and 'yes' and a general do all word like that... I told Matt and his gf Ashley that Kiora is English for second-rate cordial drink... such a coincendence... ;)

... To get to Wellington I took the ferry from the one-horse town of Picton up to the north island (as I waited in the ferry terminal in Wellington for Matt I looked through the leaflets for tourists... there was even one for Picton... I didn't get time to read it but I imagine it said, 'There is f**k-all to do in picton') ... the ferry ride was pretty nice as I'd been briefed by SJ... but I was struck by the feeling of similarity to England as I approached the cliffs of the North Island... much like the white cliffs that Vera Lynn sung about (didn't see any blue birds though... and also they weren't white, they were green... but still similar!) ... indeed, with the lakes and the greenery and the gorges and the mountains I have been overall struck by the similarity to England (stay with me here people, I'm going to justify it more...) ... NZ strikes me as England but on a much grander scale... all the beauty of the English countryside but bigger and better (Hollywood style... hence why Lord of the Rings wasn't filmed in the Lake District... a bit too quaint)... as I looked at the North Island from the ferry I was struck with an image... an image of God (Insert which every Deity you believe in here) was stood looking at England with a cigar protruding from the corner of his mouth... he's forming a frame with his fingers while looking at England and saying, "I want this but bigger and better boys..." ... ... ... anyway...

Wellington is a pretty nice city and Matt and his flat mates (Ashley, his girlfriend, and Caleb) are nice people... I've wondered around the city and spent some time chilling out at his house (even started playing Guitar Hero on the PS3 with the proper guitar controller thing... well addictive!) ... I've done some of the touristy things in the City... I've ridden the cable car up to the Botanical gardens... I found it funny in the cable car when I sat there looking at the driver of the car in his cabin, with his iPod in his ears and his feet on the dash as he pressed the odd button and looked thoroughly bored... I looked among the things he had on the dashboard of the cabin, as well as his feet, was a book titled, 'Principals of helicopter flight'... clearly this cable car driver has ambitions... I don't think a helicopter is as chushdy a gig as this cable car...

... I've even taking in a dash of culture at the national museum, 'Tu Papa' (which is coincidentally free to enter)... one exhibit caught my eye... it was in an among a display about an endangered animal called the Kakapo... the exhibit was a rugby style helmet which looked like it was made out of molten, fused condoms... reading the little caption card it explained,

"... [the kakapo] male habitually tried to mate with people's heads. So this helmet was made to collect his sperm..."

A particularly unflattering picture of the helmet in use. Maybe its my English reserve kicking in but I don't care how endangered a species is... it's not allowed to mate with my head... just a bit of a rule of thumb I run my life by...

... Financially things are going fine here in NZ... it's not as expensive as Australia so I'm getting by OK... I wanted to get an All Blacks rugby shirt but they are ridiculously expensive (like 100 quid a pop), but generally it's not too bad here... one thing I have noticed is that they round up your change for you here... so if something is $4.99 and you give $5, then you get no change... turns out they abolished 1, 2 and 5 cent pieces in the recent past... so 4.99 is an even more pointless price here then it is at home... It's a bit cheeky of them to assume that I don't want/need that penny... In England we have the saying, 'Count the pennies and the pounds will follow.' ... I'm not that tight with money (honestly) but at home I have a penny jar and it all adds up... here the saying should be, 'Count the pennies, and you'll see how much the presumptuous beggars have squeezed out of you.' ... ... and relax...

... and there we go... the things I wanted to say are out there in the ether... you know where I am and what I am up to... tonight me and Matt are going Tramping (NZ slang for hiking... other interesting NZ slang: Scarfies (students), Toggs (Swimming shorts), Jandels (Flip-flops))... he's a bit of a pro by all accounts, so will have a Tramp (NZ version of the word) up to a cabin they have up in the hills where we can stay for the night and then Tramp (see previous) back on Saturday... then he's having a Keg party at his flat, which should be good... Then on Monday I'm getting the bus up to Rotarua to see some Geezers (Geothermal water springs... not cockney likely-lads) and that before I pop up to Auckland to get my flight to Santiago... blimey, busy days:)

... I hope you're all well... keep lovely my people:)  

... Just a blog so you all know I'm well:)

Hi Everyone... due to the extreme circumstances in Christchurch, the place I just left, (and due to there being f**k all to do in this little port town of Picton) I thought I should post... So maybe you've heard that there was an earthquake in New Zealand at 1pm local time... It was 6.3 on the Richter scale but had great destruction because it was shallow at 5km from the surface and focused only 10km from the city center... Its significant for me because I left Christchurch at 7am on the train to Picton, a little port town from where I get the ferry to the capital Wellington on the North island tomorrow afternoon... ... ... The destruction looks pretty bad in Christchurch with the steeple of the cathedral falling down, cars and two buses crushed under falling rocks, and people getting pulled out of buildings... there have been reports of deaths but they are not confirmed yet... I am a lucky boy to have left when I did... ... ... even though a perverse part of me wonders what the earthquake would have felt like, I am well aware that I am very lucky and will treat myself to a beer to toast my luck tonight... I hope no one worries, these things happen sometimes, I'm lucky but others are not so lucky... although people might start worrying that I'm over here in a country susceptible to earthquakes, remember that NZ is remarkably less dangerous crime-wise compared to many parts of Bristol, so its really swings and round abouts regarding the relative danger I am in here... basically, there are risks all over the world... I luckily missed the earthquake... but we can't live fearing where such things might strike next... we'd never enjoy life if we did... so please don't let this earthquake scare you on my behalf... I'll be fine... :)

... As I woke up this morning at 5am to get a shuttle to the train station the three other people in my room were just crawling into bed after (I assume) a night on the booze... if we are going to worry about anyone let's worry about guys like them... I hope they are OK even though I didn't know them... ... It's a bad day for NZ... I hope the families of those affected are OK and I hope as few people are hurt as possible...

... OK, that was a bit heavy but well, I just needed to get that out... In my hostel in Picton there are people who live in Christchurch discussing the damage to their house as they've heard from friends over the phone... they were keeping their chin up though and going to treat themselves to a beer and a steak... I guess what else can you do... running back down to Christchurch is going to do them no good at this moment... ... as for me, I get the ferry tomorrow to Wellington where I will meet Matt (who I met in Vietnam)... he has a sofa with my name on it and I'm looking forward to being in a big city once again (Picton really is a one horse town... and that horse bolted out of sheer boredom!)...

... This is just a short post but I want to end more up beat... so I'll just put in a couple of my stupid observations... I'm currently reading a book called 'The Man Who Mistook His Wife For a Hat' which is basically loads of anecdotes about weird and interesting neurological disorders (yay, fun;)... its interesting but I think the doctor who wrote it has got a bit carried away with himself and got a bit too lyrical... either that or her can read faces a hell of a lot better then I can... in one section he described a man as follows:

"His expression contained anger, alarm, bewilderment and amusement - bewilderment most of all, with a hint of consternation."

I believe this was also the facial expressions required of the actors in Home Alone. Then on the next page he describes the same man:

"He gazed at me with a look compound of stupefaction, incredulity, terror and amusement, not unmixed with a jocular sort of suspicion."

I don't know what some of those words mean let alone how to portray them! ... My other weird observation is the general lack of quality in the book swaps here in NZ (and indeed in Oz), it seems that rather then being a place for travellers to swap books, the hostel owners have just raided the local charity shop and filled their shelf with all the unwanted crap... my current hostel has a shelf dedicated to Mills and Boon books (not exactly your travelers choice)... I noticed a theme running through the books with some of the titles:

'Vet in demand' by Carol Wood

'Vet in a quandary' by Mary Bowring

'A dedicated vet' by Carol Wood

You'll notice two books by our girl Carol, it seems she has a bit of a vet fetish (A "Vetish"?)... I'd hate to be Vet who has to treat her Pomeranian! ... All the Mills and Boon books reminds me of when I used to write my PhD thesis in the library and one woman came in and returned about 20 Mills and Boon and took out another 20... crikey!

... Anyway, I think I should go now... oh yeah, and to top off how boring this town is, it's pissing it down! ... humpfh... back to reading about neurological disorders I guess ('His face was all at once quizzical and whimsical with a slight emphasis of stoicism in the corner of his mouth';)

Love to all... don't worry about me, I'm all well:)

I'm fine, don't worry about me... I'd already left Christchurch!

... I left Christchurch at 7am... major earthquake in Christchurch at 1pm... Don't worry I'm fine... I hope others are fine as well... It looks pretty bad, I guess I'm pretty lucky as it was 6.3 on the Richter scale!

... just heard on the news that the cathedral I wrote about yesterday has been destroyed... ... ... a very sad day for New Zealand...

Back in Christchurch:)

... So just a quick blog to you good people:) ... I'm back in Christchurch after my brief sojourn in Queenstown...well, except for Koh Chang it was the longest I'd been in one place for 4.5 months!

... A brief 9 to 5 bus journey today... a coastal train to Picton tomorrow... ferry to Wellington on the north island the day after and a nice little stay with Matt, the NZish guy I met in Hanoi during my 18-30s mental phase at Holong Bay! ... I'm looking forward to being back in a big city again... but its weird to be in Christchurch after my time in Queenstown... Queenstown has only about 11,000 people but seemed more busy then Christchurch which is apparently one of the big places in NZ... but everything here seems small... the main square in Christchurch is called Cathedral square but it's only really a church by English standards... its not a criticism because NZ is great, it's just small... in fact the only "large" thing here is the novelty giant chess set in Cathedral square (quirky basterds;)...

... a couple of brief things I don't want to forget to mention... it was a bit weird playing football yesterday in a field which is predominately used for people to land when paragliding off a nearby mountain... as you watch a game and start to wonder if the paragliding man will land on the pitch or impaled on some rugby posts you know you're in NZ ... ... ... also, there are so many Irish here... it seems they are up shit creek without a paddle at home so it truly makes sense to go to NZ, at least there they can get jobs... I went to an Irish pub last night in Queenstown and the Irish are so well established they even have honour boards up on the walls for Guinness and Kilkenny drinkers... a plaque for 100 pints, another for 500, and you're own plaque for 1000 pints... I hate stereotypes about Irish drinking! ...

... Also sorry about the trouble on the last post with some words be half on one line half on the next... I'm gonna try and fix that now... It's sods law that I finally go to the effort to write a blog full of original content and the computer screws up so people need to read with their finger against the page like they're reading Braille to make any sense of it... damn you computers!

... So anyway, I'm here... my legs ache eternally after football yesterday and have a bit of a chesty cough (poor me, poor me, pour me a table spoon of cough syrup)... time for food:)

See you soon my lovelies:)

Blame it on the weather man:(

... Hello again... I've received a bit of stick recently for my reliance on old or pilfered content for these blogs... old stories, personal ads, videos and excessive picture use may have compromised the integrity of this blog... even my parents have weighed in with the following e-mail:

Matt 

Come on son we expect original content every time. 

Love Mum & Dad

... So I think I need to sort my act out... I need to shape up or ship out... so I'm back to the old classic blogging style of yesteryear... back to the old school...

In truth, when I posted my story yesterday I was hoping to placate the expectant fans until today when I would regail you all in a fantastic travel adventure... but alas, it was not to be... I'd purchased some tickets to fly in a Cessna (tiny plane) to a beautiful place to do some highly recommended cruise... but the weather has delayed the flight twice now and I leave tomorrow so I will sell on the ticket... its a real shame because I woke up well excited about it this morning... like a school-boy (or teacher;) on a snow day... but alas (thats the second 'alas') the metaphorical ploughs came in and destroyed my joy, the weather was no good in the place I was flying to, so its all abandoned like an unwanted child... so that story is off... in the words of The Corrs, let's "...blame it on the weather man"... watch yourself Michael Fish, I now have a vendetta you bastard... maybe I took that too far... sorry Mr Fish...

... So alas (three) how can I regail you... Queenstown has turned me into a veritable slug of a lazy bastered (or as some might annoyingly quip, I've returned to normal service here)... its too comfortable living in this house with good people... drinking beer and watching movies, cafe hopping and eating cake... since I've been here I've watched, 'The King's Speech' (great), 'The Hangover' (nice), 'Cemerary Junction' (weak but OK... no subtlety, its all so forced... what a snob I am!), 'Flags for our Fathers' (Very interesting and well done), and the whole series of 'An Idiot Abroad' (funny, but a bit empty)... ... so as you can see, it's time to move on... however nice it's been to just stop for a bit (especially in such a beautiful area), I'm at risk of going stale and green and yucky... it's time to move on... so up to Wellington I go, back to the big(ish) city, where another sofa awaits me... that of Matt Carver, a good lad I met in Hanoi... I'm looking forward to it...

... I've just coming from playing in a mini-football tournament in Queenstown... random people turn up, form teams and play to win a $100 bar tab at one of the local bars... I formed a team with two Mexicans, a Dane, and a Saudi... we got to the Semis but lost... I sensed the Mexicans were getting annoyed with me... my lack of fitness was telling... it was the first real exercise in 4.5 months... in the first 2-3 minutes I was passing and moving, calm and collected... like a young Franz Beckenbaur (only better)... but then reality kicked in and so did fitness... I decided to play at a walking pace... its just ashame the people around me didn't decided to join me in this... the game started passing me by... well at least it was good to watch the Mexican skills:) ... now I'm sat here with a lovely ice cold beer and blogging to you good people... at first I was very nervous to play footy again... worried about shaming myself and maybe suffering from lack of fitness... I did my normal prematch routine of drinking lots of energy drink and peeing alot... ... it was fun to play, but it'll be a while 'till the old skills and class is back (don't laugh)...

... OK, I've got to take my washing from the machine and into the tumble drier... I'll be back after this short break... enjoy this funny little video in the interim...

... I hope you enjoyed that:) ... and so now I'm back... while I'm cleaning my clothes I'll do a bit of blogalogical housekeeping and go over some things I forgot to mention (some maybe of interest... many probably inane!) ... firstly, when I was in Christchurch (all that time ago) it was boxing day... confused the hell out of me... it turned out boxing day (the day after Christmas... a bit shopping day in many western countries) had effectively been canceled as they had an earthquake then which basically destroyed alot of buildings... so it had been delayed until the weekend I was there... unfortunately I didn't get any bargains although I was tempted by the 50% off ring cleaning available at the jewelers... but I left my ring back in Britain... (hummmm....) ...

... Another thing... if you're a cleaner, New Zealand is the place for you... If your child has come here to enjoy "... the lifestyle" that is young people code for becoming a cleaner and getting pissed every night... if you did that in England you'd be looked at in contempt... in NZ its normal for a traveler... you see, people come here and offer to clean a hostel for 3 hours each day and then they get their accommodation free... I've ever heard of people cleaning a gym in order to get free access... if you will clean it, you can use it (hummm, I wonder what that jeweler wanted with my ring?)... the lifestyle is awesome here and it really is incredibly beautiful... but as always compromises are necessary...

... its been great to have this free bed in SJ's place but it can be a bit lonely because we are in different situations... they all work and are all settled in this place... I'm not... I started NZ in a fresh frame of mind which enabled me to meet many cool people while I was in jail in Christchurch (if that statement shocked you, please read my previous posts for an explanation)... this new 'open' Matt has reaped the benefits of getting on really well with the people in this house and having a cool time... but there are no hopeless-meandering-wannabe French novel writer types-poncing around with me... which is a shame... but alas (fourth), that is the nature of travel in Australia and NZ for me, almost everyone else has different priorities from these places then me... bring on South America... I can't wait:))))))

... One cool thing I did get from my exploration of this small town on my Larry lonesome (Ladies... theres a face here that needs a stroking... Christ, I'm even scaring myself a bit now) , and it kind of goes back to that poncing thing I just mentioned, is how cool it is just to wonder about sometimes... I was walking through the park and by the edge of the lake as darkness descended... I had cool music in my ear and I became lost in a weird semi-transient strange world where everything seems a bit unreal and you have that thought of, 'How did I get here?'... it's a pleasant feeling... it reminds me of a holiday I had in Europe after finishing in Southampton Uni... I'd just wonder round the cool cities like Milan, Paris, Amsterdam... lost in wonder (I know, a bit cliched...) just walking around open mouthed... a weird way to enjoy a city, but it can be really awesome when you stumble across some cool place that the dreaded Lonely Planet neglected to mention (or more likely, I neglected to read)... ... alas (five) I don't know where I'm going with this, so I'll stop...

... so here you go, original content... I don't want to fob the fans off with some re-hashed old crap (especially when they've noticed what I'm doing;)... ... ... one more thing to mention, the fire service is essentially voluntary here (with a couple of pro staff)... when theres a fire an alert goes out like a bombing siren people run from whatever they're doing and get down to the station asap... good on them... very noble...

... so I feel good after football (I remember once telling Leeming I thought I could be a semi-pro footballer... he looked at me all serious and went 'oh yeah'... then within a couple of days people were joking and calling me 'Semi-pro'... now I can laugh... I am pretty crap... but I enjoy it and feel great afterwards... so I guess thats what its all about... thats my message of the week kids... take it on board... and also, don't smoke.. or take drugs...) ... I'm polishing off a lovely beer... and I'm about to pop out for fish and chips with SJ and here boyfriend on my last night here in Queenstown... and I feel good because I've just blogged to you lovley people... but alas (six) you cannot be with me now... keep well where ever you are... and remember kids, don't smoke or take drugs and remember to enjoy what you do and don't just do it all for money... and also remember the green cross code... and don't take sweets from strangers (unless they own a shop and you've just paid for the sweets... thats just a normal transaction)... ... anyway...

Love you all... keep well... keep safe... keep lovely... :)

The Pussy-cat monologues:)

So here I am... still in Queenstown... I've downloaded the new Radiohead album 'The King of Limbs' (after paying for the privaliage, of course), and am just trying to get it on my mp3 player or iPod in some listenable form (these electronic things can be terribly annoying and unco-operative sometimes... bunch of basterds they are!)... I'm not going to do a normal blog as hopefully I'll have more to write about in a day or so... but as I'm here and bored I thought I might publish one of my short stories here... ... ... ... OK, now for those of you who are still reading and haven't immediatly navigated away from this blog, this is an old story of mine called, 'The Pussy-cat monologues', just a little ditty about a cat with OCD... I'm putting it up for your enjoyment (... of course I'm not just putting up here because no other possible avenue would even consider publishing such a thing... how dare you suggest that! ;)... anyway, enjoy (I warn you... it's 2,700 words long... either commit to that or run away now!) and a real blog will come soon:)

The Pussycat monologues

As the cat tests the branch on the largest tree in the garden it begins to weaken and he hesitates. His prey sits at the far end of the thin branch catching its breath. The chase had been tough. The squirrel was minding his own business on the grass enjoying some stale bread and he noticed the birds begin to look a bit flustered. They always look a bit weird, hopping about on the grass with no arms or hands. They must be easy to trip up. If they didn’t see a worm in their path as they hopped and they caught their claw on it they’d go down quicker than an acorn falls from a tree. They started to shuffle about a bit. They usually wait for him to finish with the leftover bread before they move in. They’re quite cowardly the birds here. They never try to team up and out wit the squirrel who always steals what they believe is their food. They just sit tight and patiently until he’s had his fill and then they move it. “Hold steady Margaret, he’ll be finished in a minute” you can imagine the starling says to his neighbour. But today they weren’t the silent observers they usually were. They started to nudge each other and look around alarmed. They were looking behind the squirrel with panic in their eyes. It took one squawk and they were all away in an instant into the blue sky, scattering in all directions and reforming their single file on the arch of the house’s roof.

   The squirrel had a second to compose himself and decide what to do. Was there something dangerous behind him or had those cowardly birds been spooked by a particularly rambunctious snail? He turns and goes down on all fours with the efficiency of a marine. Run! Run! Bloody run! The sky had turned black, thick and furry when he had turned, that’s never good. Around the pond, no time to hesitate. Through the bushes. Below branches, up over the rockery. A hiss follows him. That damned cat. Up on to the garden table near the barbecue. Quick jump to the tree and up and on to the top of the shed. He’s still on my tail. Onto the next tree and along a long low branch. A dead-end, a dead-end. Shit. Slower and slower as the end is nearer and nearer. At the end of the lowest branch pointing out into the middle of the garden. Eight foot in the air and no where to go. The branches above, to the left, to the right... all too far. Time to turn round. Music to be faced. Slowly and carefully. Rocking in the gentle breeze. There he is, the sour faced black cat. Eyes fixed on the branch. The cat periodically testing the branch but always erring on the side of caution.

   “You can’t get me here cat, just a bit too fat. It’ll do you good to go on a squirrel diet today, you need slimming down.” 

   “I can wait here all day if I must you stupid squirrel. Do you not realise that I will get you in the end? I’ll wait here day and night if I must but you will be mine in the end.”

   “Jesus Christ mate why don’t you chill out. Is this how you get your fun, from chasing us squirrels around? You need to get a life.”

   “You’re doing yourself no favours verbally lashing out at me like that. You can wait there on that thin branch. Yes, I can’t reach you, it’s too thin to hold me. But I’m a patient killer and I’ll wait.”

   “Stupid blood cat. You’ve got food waiting for you inside. I’ve got work to do. Bread to eat, nuts to collect and you disturb my hard work with these stupid games.”

   “I have a name you know. My name is Herbert. You should show me the respect I deserve because I’ve still to decide weather to play with you and torture you, or to simply put you out of your misery and eat you immediately.”

   “You’re name is Fluffkins, not Herbert. I’ve heard those people call for you.”

   “Silence squirrel. My mother named me Herbert. But I was torn from my mother’s breast, kidnapped, bought here… and named Fluffkins. I hate the name Fluffkins. Do they not realise the other cats hear when they call me. “Fluffkins, Fluffkins”, fucking “Fluffkins”. I get no respect from my peers. My name is Herbert dam it. The other cats mock and taunt me. They mark my territory. Eat my birds. Leave their faeces on my flower beds… Why am I telling you this? Scum like you doesn’t deserve to be spoken to like an equal. You’re just a rat in fancy clothing. I have no respect for your kind.”

   “It seems to me you have no respect for yourself. Letting those people control your life and disgrace you. I can feel your pain as they call you Fluffkins and humiliate you.”

   “What the fuck would you know about my pain? Don’t give me that bullshit. I really can’t wait to get my claws into you.”

   “It’s clear that all this rage is for those people and not me. Do they ever show you the affection you deserve? Or is it as if you only exist when it’s convenient for them?”

   “What are you doing? Are you trying to humiliate me? Do you think that’s your way out? There is no way out. No way out! I’m not going to walk away crying because of your shit pop-psychology. My mother didn’t beat me as a child.”

   “You definitely have issues” The squirrel interrupted.

   “I don’t have repressed rage. I wasn’t an only child. I didn’t have a large traumatic event in my child hood. I’m fine, I just fancy some squirrel meat today. And you look all fat and plump from the nuts and bread you steal from those arrogant retarded birds.”

   “Arrogant retarded birds?”

   “Don’t you just hate those patronising bastards. They sit there like the village idiot with a lobotomy and the moment they see anything even slightly scary they piss themselves and fly away. And their fucking stupid singing, Christ on a bicycle it drives me mental. Just random bloody notes.”

   “You just don’t like their singing because they sing to warn others when you are about.”

   “It does make my life harder, but I like the challenge. I’m a talented hunter, it comes naturally to me. So it’s nice to have a challenge once in a while.”

   “I’ve seen you hunt, you’re not a good hunter. You’re crap. You don’t know how to hunt because you don’t need to hunt. The people in that house, they feed you. I’ve seen them put plates of prawns and fresh meat down for you. All I’ve seen you kill is helpless baby mice. Why would you kill such innocent things when you don’t need to?”

   “Hunting is in my blood. I admit that I can be lazy but I am not a bad hunter. I have you here at the edge of this branch. Walking the plank and having to choose your fate between the sharks and my sword. Try and belittle me if you want, but it’s futile. I am a great hunter and you are my prey who is coming to terms with his fate. Just accept it, it will save us both a lot of time.”

   “But why babies? They have their whole lives ahead of them.”

   “They are my favourite, they are so stupid. I control their destiny, I control their life. Once they are captured their end is a formality, but I love to give them false hope. I put them down and watch them. They play dead at first but then they try to run. Where do they think they can run to? They pathetically stumble across the grass. Do they think I’m a fool? Do they think I would just put them down and let them escape? When I’m bored of their pathetic scuttling I disembowel them with relish. Liver, heart, flesh and guts. All delicious.”

***

   As the conversation halts they can see the birds up on the roof of the house. Watching the predator and prey from their safe grandstand. “Gosh Margo, I think there might be some trouble afoot here.” In an upstairs window a girl peers out at the cat and the squirrel. The cat looks at the house, sees the girl and hisses to himself. Air rushes through the tree from nowhere. Rain held in the leaves spills down and disappears in the fur on the cat’s side. He jumps on to all fours and begins to franticly clean the freshly moistened fur. As he stands his hind legs expose the marks of a tormented cat. The fur from the legs is all gone. When he sits this is hidden but now it is clear to see. The fur stripped as if in preparation for an operation but the skin shows no wound, no scar. The bald legs reveal the pink and vulnerable skin underneath. 

   “So what’s up with your legs? They’re all bald, not a hair on them. You got a disease or something?” Asked the squirrel. The cat stops cleaning and sits with his hind legs hidden leaning on his front paws. He stares at the squirrel. His pupils dilate with rage. Like watching tiny black balloons inflating in front of saffron curtains.

   “I think you have more things to worry about you transvestite rat.”

   “So the big scary black cat has issues. Who would have thought it? So what makes you such a head case? Your parents? Your owners? The fact that you actually have owners and are denied the freedom I, the birds and the baby mice enjoy?”

   “Piss off you smug little shit.” Mud from the chase is caught between the claws of the squirrel. He cleans his feet and keeps a lump of mud in his paw. It’s wet from the dew on grass and begins to drip from between his claws. He looks up and throws it at the cat, splattering along the black fur. And so begins the frantic clean. Lick and lick and lick. Each lick punctuated by an angry word.

   “You!”

   Lick.

   “Smart!”

   Lick.

   “Ass!”

   Lick.

   “Bloody!”

   Lick.

   “Squirrel!”

Lick. Lick. Lick. “So you think you’re clever? So very smart aren’t you?”

   “Don’t get angry at me mate, I didn’t make you like this.”

The back door to the house opens. “Fluffkins! Fluffykins!” The cat shudders at the noise. The little girl from the window peeks out from round the door. On the toes of her bare feet she holds onto the door as it swings out and leaves her helplessly attached hovering over the patio tiles.

   A women comes to the rescue, lifts the girl up and carries her into the house. “Come on dear, leave Fluffy to have some fun in the garden.”

   “Is it them? Said the squirrel.

   “Is what them? Is what them?”

   “The licking. Do they make you lick yourself bald? What do you do in winter when you can’t get in to that house? You must freeze to death.”     

   “Who doesn’t want to be clean? Tell me that you retarded rodent. Does it make me mad to want a clean coat. You threw mud on me, I cleaned myself. What’s illogical about that? It would be crazy not to clean after that. If you stroke my fur with sticky hands of course I’m going to clean, who wouldn’t?”

   “If who strokes your fur with sticky hands?”

   “That fucking girl! Sent here to torture me all my life. Ice cream, Jelly, Glue, Paint. It doesn’t matter. It won’t stop her touching me or pulling my tail.”

   “She tortures you?”

   “She has no limits. I remember when I was just a kitten. She dropped a box on me and poked me through holes. Why? Why would you do that? She poked me with uncooked spaghetti. I had no chance of escape, no way out. It went up my nose, it my ear. I wouldn’t sleep inside that house for a week, I always had to keep one eye open.”

   “She is to blame.”

   “They are all to blame. It’s fucking simple, if you’ve been eating chicken wings, don’t fucking touch me” The cat pauses. “… I can’t stop cleaning myself. Wherever they touch me, whenever they touch me, I have to lick myself clean. They stroke me with their grubby, greasy hands they have no care for my coat. And even when I know I’m clean I keep licking and licking and licking. I’m licking my fur off. Licking myself bald. I can’t stop.”

   “Just leave the house, leave them. Live the free life like us squirrels, a natural and organic life. Like nature intended.”

   “I wish to be free. They have no cat door. So they decide when I can go out and they decide when I must come in. At night they lock me in a cold and lonely” The cat’s eyes begin to wonder toward the sky. “But God dam these ungrateful tears, do you not realise they feed you they give you warmth. You couldn’t survive without them. You need them. You love them. The girl means well she is just stupid. In 10 years she will know better and treat you well. But I’ll be dead and rotting by then and they’ll have a new cat who'll be enjoying the grand life which is rightfully mine.” The squirrel senses that he’s no longer part of the conversation as the cat’s words roll on and on unrelenting. “They love me, I know they must but why do they taunt me? Why twitch string in front of me. It dances in front of my face. Seduces me. Every twitch and twist of the thread entices me. My body shivers. My eyes become transfixed. The whole world melts away as I see this woollen pendulum tick-tock in front of my eyes. I try to stop myself. I try to resist the siren’s call but I can’t. My paws act independently, I’ve no control as they make futile jabs at the string. I can feel my pupils dilate and change shape, the oil black of my eyes grow and grow. The light floods in and my focus becomes intense. This primitive urge envelops me. I hate it.” The squirrel looks toward the house and sees the mother and child talking. The child looks upset and angry. Tears begin to flow and run down the girl’s cheeks. “What happens when all my fur has been licked away? Then their dirt will just touch my fragile skin. No protection. The licking won’t stop. It’ll never stop. I’ll lick and lick and lick until I can see my bones and taste the marrow. But without their charity I’d have no food, I’d be sat here in desperation for food. Hoping to find a lame squirrel to satisfy my blood lust and give me some sustenance.”

   The girl opens the door and runs out into the garden and under the branch of the tree. “Fluffy, Fluffy, quick. Here boy, before mummy comes.”

   The cat stares at the child vacantly. Looking through the girl. This is the chance. The squirrel seizes the opportunity and runs down the branch as quick as he can toward the cat. The branch undulating as his paws pound down. The momentum of the branch gets bigger and bigger. Each step pushes the branch down further than the last and the branch whips back at the squirrel with venom and he pushes off again in his next step. The cat awakes from his trace to see the squirrel now jumping and in full flight toward him. The squirrel lands on the cats face, pushes off and fly’s toward the heart of the tree. As he runs down the trunk and toward the garden the squirrel screams with all the force his preoccupied lungs can muster, “See you later you fucking head case!”

   The cat looks down the garden as the squirrel gallops away to freedom, he looks down at the branch with the girl an unfocused fuzz in the background. “Bollocks!”

THE END (phew!)

More Queenstown:)

Just had a go on the Luge (kind of like karting) on a mountain right by Queenstown, good fun... I don't feel like writing now (I hear an echo of people saying "Phew" across the world) but I'll put up more photos because they are just as good as postcards even if you're a crap photographer like me;) ... enjoy:)

... Incredible, truly incredible... :)

Lake views and bulletins

... So as my pictures have eluded to, I'm in Queenstown... I'm staying at a house Sara Jayne (an old school friend who caught the 48 with me and other luminaries... also went to Southampton Uni randomly enough) rents with 5 others... all British and all good people (those two factors are independent... I'm no nationalist who sees them as good purely because they are English... although her flat mate Simon is a football fan and its (I finally learnt the right time and place to us its or it's... well I hope:) good to have a convo about British football:)... they have been very welcoming, and all I did in return was buy a 24 pack of beer which I also contributed toward eroding the contents of... :) ... My view of New Zealand is continuing to be enhanced and reinforced... its beautiful and lovely... I "get it"... I understand all the raving about NZ, with Australia that wasn't the case, but to be fair you need to travel further to find the incredible nature in Australia and I didn't get off my perfectly formed ass... But in NZ, the beauty is in your face, its everywhere... this country is like if the Lake District had sex with Cheddar Gorge and they spread the resultant pulp across a couple of islands to develop into places even larger and more impressive then their parents (sorry for the crude imagery)... it's really beautiful nature here...

(I've just started to listen to 'Telephone' by Lady Gaga on you tube as I write... I've suddenly become very self-conscious... I don't want people to spy what I'm listening to... it could compromise my masculinity... better listen to some manly rock music next... or watch the video so to make it clear that I'm watching it for purvey reasons only... ... ... God damn my random taste in music... ... ... ... but on a positive... NEW RADIOHEAD ALBUM OUT ON SATURDAY... YAAAAAAAAAAYYYYY.... :))))))))))

Anyway, where was I (before the music divergence)... oh yeah, the beautiful nature (that's manly enough isn't it?)... It's really incredible... everywhere you look is a beauty of a mountain range... they have great lakes here like puddles in Bristol, here there and everywhere... the sky is a beautiful blue which only seems to become more beautiful and poignant when a cloud tares through it or a fog of clouds descends on the mountain tops... the first night I was here it rained heavily as I ate with SJ and her house mates... the rain rattled against the roof and lightening forked through the sky and rumbled at a delay suggesting it was five miles away (just started to listen to a Smiths playlist on youtube, less gay... but only slightly;)... ... SJ showed me around the small town of Queenstown yesterday and today showed me a small village called Arrow town... a quaint village which sprung up during the gold rush... and it has that American West feel to it... I walked up one of the mountains near Queenstown... 45 minutes stroll and I could survey all the beauty of the area... but I forgot to take water and started feeling like shit being squeezed through a sieve, my head was hot and hurting and my ears were ominously cold (well, it felt ominous), so I took the lazy option of a gondola down... much more relaxing... ... ... I'm going photo crazy at the moment so I'll post some snaps soon... I almost lost my camera today as I left it in a pie shop in Arrow Town... This pie shop claimed to have world famous pies, yet I'd never heard of them before (now they'll be world famous;)... a butter chicken pie with salsa on the side... by crikey, that deserved a resounding thumbs up from me:)

... with respect to the quaintness and quirkiness I've oft noted about NZ (well I've noted in my last post)... well it is just being reinforced day after day... SJ said her parents described NZ as England in the 1960s and I can see it, or at least guess that I see it... people don't lock doors, people are friendly and chatty, it's a really refreshing place to be... and I think the quirkiness comes across in the local paper, 'Lakes weekly bulletin' where people can put in random little pieces to sell things and the like... the nature of some of the things that get put into this local advertising rag really give you an insight into the place... I'll give you an e.g. of the typical content of a public ad:

Awesome double room for rent in a 3bed apartment, $175 inc bills + sky. Centrally located. Contact Nik 0********4 or Loz 0********1

That's the typical content but there are some other stuff... this week is Valentines week so there are a few lovey dovey messages in there (incidentally, I treated myself to a lone quesadillas and Millionaire slice for V day... my romantic treat for myself):

Victoria - you are so beautifully delicious, I love you shnucums so vewy vewy much. To me you are like stars shining in the sky, like the twinkle in your eye. Love ur tickle bunny jimx

As you clean up the projectile vomit, get someone to read aloud for you because there is more. There are matters of social consciousness addressed in ads:

If you own the grey collie dog that runs around Wynyard Crescent everyday, please keep it at home. It has many near misses everyday and if a car doesn't get it the pound will!

Massive thank you to the lads and St Johns peeps who stretchered me down from the Skyline after my crash last Saturday and all involved at both hospitals. Good karma is deffo on its way!

To whoever stole my bag and passport last week in Winnies I hope karma eats your children

And then there are just people trying to buy and sell stuff:

Treadmill wanted! Got an old, working treadmill taking up space in your garage? My thunderthighs will thank you for it! Call/text 0********9, texts preferred during daytime.

Massive beave? Too much grass on the wicket? Look like a runover possum? Too much feedback on the microphone? When was it tended to last? 0********6

... for me, that last ad is worryingly vague... but these are all real ads... lovely stuff:)

... OK I just managed to get some new photos of Queenstown up, so enjoy:)

... I will concede that I look like a bit of a goofy pillock on the top photo, but apart from that one, doesn't the nature look incredible?

... anyway, my words will only sully the beauty of the landscape on display... so pray silence please, for Queenstown, NZ...

(*whispering*) keep well everyone... love to you all... Matt ... :)

Did someone say sunset?

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A room with a view

View from the balcony at Sara Jayne's flat where I'm staying in Queenstown, NZ... Pretty special view:)


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Melbourne

OK, now I expanded to 3 photos for Melbin... Rules are there to be broken;)

Australia (Sydney)

OK, expanding to one per city in Oz... this is Bondi beach...

Cambodia

I'm continuing my one photo per country summary of my holiday... here is Angkor Wat in Cambodia at sun rise:)

My Hostel in Christchurch... the converted jail:)

In jail in New Zealand

... So I finally arrived in New Zealand, only a couple of days late (anyone annoyed with me starting so many posts with an ellipse and then 'So'... doesn't seem to make grammatical sense? Well I'm just fronting up to the big grammar God in the the sky... anyway... so...)... obviously I'm almost obliged to draw comparisons between NZ and OZ... the positives and negatives... the classic, exam question:

'Compare and contrast the islands of New Zealand and Australia with direct reference to approcahability, sites of interest, expense and touristic experience, and quality of the women.'

Well... here goes... (I always loved exams... was a bit of a pro... if I don't say so myself;)... ... The instant and most obvious differences between Australia and New Zealand would be in terms of chatability and folksy-quality... People are immensely chatty and approachable in New Zealand... within 1 hour in New Zealand I'd probably had more conversations with people I didn't know then compare to my whole time in Oz... the woman driving the airport shuttle explained the weather, the bumpy roads and derelict buildings were due to the two recent earth quakes (kind of weird to see such signs of destruction in such a developed country... she explained that one road has only just been opened after 4 months (first earthquake in September and the second on boxing day) and the buildings were merely shells)), and divulging her annoyance at the politics of being a shuttle bus driver and how the depot favours some drivers (sorry love, just not that interested)... Since Australia I realised that I need to get out there a bit more... I met very few people in 2 weeks in Australia and didn't really make one new friend... I was a bit affronted by the difference and change from Asia and from my depression at leaving good people... that allied with my shock at the prices there turned me into a bit of an antisocial see you next Tuesday... so after my chatty shuttle into town (even as I came out of arrival a couple of chavy locals screamed at me 'Welcome to Christchurch' in somewhere between a squawk and a whine... a nice welcome) I decided I had to start being a friendly bastered again... so more of this solitudicious, loner phase... so as soon as I got in my room I started chatting to the first person I met (a girl... seemed to bring me out of my shell a bit more for some reason;)... soon more people were arriving, and the whole dorm was a hive of chatting and friendship developing like a foetus in a womb... we went out, had drinks in a local bar (I could only have one weak beer due to the antibiotics:(... the bar was incredibly local but in a nice way... they even had a raffel where the prize was a plate of raw meat... and they had a very local style band playing (reminded me of the Downend Tavern (a very "local" pub near me at home)... they had a band consisting of a middle aged female singer and male bass player accompanied by a stereo playing the backing track as they played hits as diverse as My Sharona by The Knack and Mysterious Girl by Peter Andre... ... fair enough... so all the lone travellers in the room (Dave the Irishman (a new one!), Chloe the Ozzie, Sven the Swedish German (I learnt that Sven is an old man's name apparently), Morgan the Canadian, Leslie the American, and some guy I never found out his name or where he's from... but he wore glasses (sorry a bit inattentive of me!)) we chatting gregarious and having a laugh together... I don't want to sound arrogant, but I'll take credit for that:) ... In terms of 'Folksy', everything in New Zealand just seems smaller and more manageable (although that depends on whether Christchurch can really be seen as representative of NZ)... as I walked into the city today there were cricket games backing onto cricket games in the park, the cathedral in the town is just a church, and the market is just a couple of stalls... it's like a small Melbourne really, a bite-sized manageable chunk of Australasia... so far I like New Zealand, but I came determined to be more social and with a more open mind then when I arrived in Australia so that might explain things a bit...

... A note about my hostel... it's a converted prison! ... it was only closed in 1999 and one of the reviews on Hostelworld is from a woman who's husband was in the prison (humm... married to a felon?) and they came back to stay here... there is a couple of cells maintained with the old graffiti of the prisoners and it really has the feeling like I'm in an episode of 'Porridge' ("Fletcher!")... it's quite cool, a bit far out from the city but I couldn't resist... I'll post some photos soon:)

... A couple of other things of note... My leg is getting better and I'm actually disappointed to discover that when I squeeze it puss no longer bursts forth volcanically:( ... but at least I can walk without pain now:) ... but I had to get some medical tape to keep my plaster on the wound... I decided not to get the paper stuff because it's weak and annoys me when it doesn't keep the plaster on, so I got the flesh coloured strong stuff... like medical masking tape... Jesus Christ that was a mistake... I suddenly wish I'd shaved my legs before I used the tape... Fuck me it hurts removing it... pulling of the hairs, the tape is mocking me... I started trying to cut the tape off instead of allowing the tape to pull the hair out (so now I have a small array of bald patches on my thigh!)... but then I learnt to pull the tape off with the grain of the hair... still painful but less so... but Jesus wept it hurt at first... just thinking about it brings a tear to my eye...

... OK, so I'm happy and content here in NZ... the leg's recovering... and tomorrow I get the bus to Queenstown

... gonna try and find somewhere I can upload some photos at... to let you see my prison and some of my other activities... keep well folks...

lots of love,

Matt:)

... Missed flights, IV nights...

... Good morning all (well it's morning for me)... So I told you last time that I'd hit you up (look at that young people slang... respect) once I was in New Zealand... well I missed my flight and I'm still here in Sydney (I can hear the gasps of disbelief... I've dragged you in with impending questions: Why did I miss my flight? What the dickens will I do now? etc)... well those who follow me on Twitter (@listentome23) may have seen bits of this in "real time" (Oh technology... what a lovely waste of time you are)... I'd got bitten by a bug in Melbourne and the bite had got bigger and bigger... a large expanse of redness ever expanding around the nucleus of the bite... it started to get really quite painful when I was due to fly to Sydney to Melbourne... the bite was on my thigh and was giving me jip (the scientific term) as I walked... but I was flying to Sydney and the next day to Christchurch in NZ so I thought that it could hold out till I was in NZ (also, it's just a bug bite... I've had them flare up before... no problem)... (N.B. for the image of the bite that I posted on twitter (at David Gibbs's request) can be seen at http://yfrog.com/h5eu2suilbgj)... (Crikey, it's just hit me... I'm going crazy with all this social networking crap... up to date pictures of a bug bit? ... an entire blog post dedicated to the fall out from said bite? ... I think I need a new hobby!) ... anyway, back to bite-gate... the night in Sydney it really started to gnarl up a notch (again, scientific terms)... I'd popped it and the effluent was blood and puss (sorry, I hope you're not eating while reading this) and my thigh started to swell a little and have the feeling like when you get your blood pressure taken... I thought, 'Maybe I should see someone about this'... so at 11pm I took a taxi to ER (my flight was at 9am, I thought I had plenty of time to get it sorted out)... turned out the bite had turned into an abscess and was a festival of blood and puss under the swelling... I was put on IV antibiotics (seemed rather extreme but I guess they know best... and to be fair, it feels a hell of a lot better now)... one course at night and the next 6 hours later in the morning... once both were done after waiting for a doctor it was 9am, flight missed:( ... the technical treatment for the abscess itself was to squeeze it like the world's largest pimple... that was what I've been sent away to do a couple of times a day... I like popping pimples (too much information?) so it's not so bad... ... So I missed my flight, I expected great losses (although I could get back from insurance) but it was really not so bad... My flights could be rearranged for 11th Feb for only 45 quid (even though I missed the flight I was booked on (I did get the hospital social worker to call the airline for me 30 Min's before the flight though... my first brush with social workers... I'm a lucky boy!))... the hostel I was booked with in Christchurch allowed me to cancel with no charge... the bus I'd booked to Queenstown I was able to put back 2 days for 70p... and the hospital treatment was free due to an agreement between the UK and OZ... so all in all it turned out well:) ... so now I'm staying in my hostel for a couple more nights... not really doing much except read, eat, and pop giant pimples.. and then I'll fly on Friday:)

... Other notable events... I saw my Irish friend David again in Sydney... we again were luckily in the same city, so we met and shared a few drinks (this was before my hospital visit)... he even fixed my watch... as I said on a previous post, one digit of my digital watch had broken so that the time read "12:?9" and made life a bit difficult... Now David's an electrician, so he provided me with technical advice for how to fix my watch, "Bang it against the table there." (kind of like the pimple popping doctor)... and hey presto, it's fixed... he also told me the other trick to fix something (one I've used on various times when my Nan has had problems with her TV), 'Turn in off and then on again'... it's great to know all the technical tricks:) ... so then we said goodbye for the 3rd time (previously in Saigon and Siem Reap)... he's been a great travel buddy for over a month in total... good luck with your travels and work in New Zealand... I still expect a free holiday in Ireland if you ever do return;)

... also at the airport in Melbourne I enjoyed over hearing a dad and daughter (probably about 7 years old) have a little conversation. The daughter had asked for a can of Coke:

Dad: "No you can't have Coke, you go psycho on Coke"

Daughter: "Well you go psycho when you drink beer."

[SILENCE FOLLOWED BY CHANGING OF SUBJECT]

... I love that bluntness... once when I was in the park near the White Hart in Frenchay playing Frisbee with some friends a little girl (again, probably 6 or 7) came up and started to play with us... she asked me what my name was:

Me: "I'm Matt"

Girl: "Ha ha, people walk all over you."

... then her Dad called her and she ran off... what a blunt comment... a kind of awesome unexpected comment:) ... I look forward to hearing many more such comments when my cousin's little ones begin to talk:)

zee-boy for my American friends;)... you see some interesting cases as you sit there all night unable to sleep... A British guy came in, he was an Alcoholic and had fallen off the wagon and had a three day binge and had come in for some treatment to help him battle the edge of initially coming off the binge... it's easy to see what a difficult position he is in... really struggling with a serious problem which probably garners little sympathy in the world as a whole... most believe it is self inflicted (and to be honest I don't know how great the influence of genetics is)... and it was clear the guy needed someone to be with him... he was alone in ER all night trying to curb the urges... probably not wanting to be alone... ... I hope he didn't have a beer... the staff were really good with him, and one of the senior nurses sat down and chatted with him, gave him encouragement and directed him to people he could talk to... I guess maybe that is the standard policy, but they were really good... the hospital was a real mix... the Doctors from Australia, Scotland, Ireland... and the patients were also from all over... it was good treatment and it was free... Thank you Australia:)

... but now I'm here just wasting a day waiting for my flight tomorrow... I don't want to walk around too much and push my leg too much quite yet, it's still a bit sensitive, sore and swollen (the three S's)... so a relaxing day... in truth I've never settled anywhere very long during the 4ish months I've been away so far... I expected to find some great hostel where I'd just reside and become part of the furniture for a month or something, but that really hasn't happened... the longest was probably when I was on Koh Chang with my parents for maybe over a week... it's nice to move but it's also nice to be still for a while... I'll sit like a monk and meditate... think about the real primal and key questions of life... ...... then become bored and start listening to a Ricky Gervais podcast, read some of Lolita... and maybe even do some creative writing if I can get myself motivated enough:) ... I'll let myself be lazy today... such a joyous state to take every once in a while... to just let go and forget everything... float along in a kind of nothingness... with no plan to go anywhere... I know it's a waste sometimes, to be like this... but when you've been travelling for over 4 months, to let go for a day or two is total bliss... ... ... lazy today and then bring on the boredom... to spur me into new adventures in New Zealand and South America... :))))

Keep well lovely people... I'll leave you with some songs...

The original:

And a Parody (better then the original:) :

Enjoy;)

Me and David (Irish) having fun at Angkor Wat (Cambodia)

... Just nicked this off David's facebook photos... don't we look happy;)

War... What is it good for... Absolutly nothing!

... So here I am again... I'm in Melbourne library getting a bit of free Internet, lovely stuff... so time for a rant:) ... I went to the Shrine today, the big ANZAC war memorial... for people who fought and died in various wars... World wars 1 and 2, Korea, Vietnam etc etc... It suddenly struck me that a lot of the key sights while travelling centre around unnecessary death... I knew I was in a sensitive mood this morning as I walked to the Shrine as I was listening to my fantastic play list and I could feel the music doing something to me... when I'm in 'one of those moods' when certain lyrics get to me and get the old emotions going... the following words from 'I heard it through the grapevine' by Marvin Gaye (who was killed by his father) really get to me when I'm in the mood:

I know a man ain't supposed to cry

But these tears I can't hold inside

... these words get to me some how... and today was no different... I knew I was in 'one of those moods' (feel free to insert your own derogatory interpretation of this;) and so maybe a war memorial wasn't the best place to go... the mood around the shrine really got me and for some reason I had to hold back a few tears... it seems that everywhere I go there is a reminder of these useless wars and abuses of basic human rights... Cambodia, Vietnam, Laos all had their stories to tell and Australia is the same... and one country which seems to always come up (although this country wasn't specifically named at the Shrine today) is Japan... I never realised that this country commanded such extreme emotions in people... even today, but especially in Asia... I need to read more about it before I can really comment with accuracy but it seems they committed some terrible atrocities... When I was in China and I asked our guide David (Chinese but that was his chosen English name... he was incidentally a massive Oasis fan) spoke of their hatred of the Japanese and specifically about the Nanking Massacre (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nanking_Massacre ... I know, wiki is not always the most reputable source!) ... In this it is claimed that the Japanese took over the old capital of China and raped and massacred around 300,000 people (soldiers, women and children... that number is apparently a Chinese estimate)... but I've heard that the Japanese either deny a massacre took place (I haven't checked the facts so I apologise if this is not entirely correct... I just want to highlight some aspects of history we miss in Britain) or claim the toll was much smaller (like 30,000... if that is indeed the defence... you're a f**king disgrace... but like many things in history, I'm guessing the true facts will never arrive)... I've heard that there has never even been an official Japanese apology... now I know as a British person I could be accused of hypocrisy for getting on my high horse about this... we at one point controlled a massive amount of this globe (I saw the list of countries in the Commonwealth on a landmark commemorating that 2006 Melbourne Commonwealth games and I'm sure we couldn't have had such an empire without doing some horrible things... Indeed, I think I remember hearing that the English invented the concentration camp during the Boar war (which incidentally both Churchill and Gandhi fought in!))... but all I mean to say is that death and war are factors all over this world... it can get to you a bit... everybody has their enemies and their tragedies... Japanese civilians suffered through the use of the atomic bombs... Vietnamese suffered through the use of Agent Orange... Americans suffered with Pearl Harbour... it can all get a bit overwhelming... and I don't want to pick on Japan... I have a feeling they are like the Asian equivalent of Germany... a country which holds continental scorn because of past atrocities, but in truth it is unfair to judge today's Japan by the actions of yesterday's Japan... Many scars seem to have healed between Europe and Germany and indeed I've not met one German I have disliked... and the same is probably true of Japanese youth, I just unfortunately don't know any Japanese well... ... But Japan has a culture that fascinates me and my favorite novelist is Japanese, Haruki Murakami... he, and other Japanese writers, can write in a way that moves the soul and can really drive your emotions crazy... they write beautifully (also check out Natsumi Soseki)... it's a place I dream to visit... but as you travel and you learn about everybody's view of all these wars and you look at each side of the story and all the lists of dead people it can get a bit overwhelming... it can be very hard to form a rounded opinion and to take everything into account... ... ... I guess my experience in China best sums up how I should approach forming an opinion about a people... everybody has an opinion about China because of all the things we hear about their regime... but when I went there I found beautiful friendly people and a fascinating country... ... ... when travelling you are filled with so much stimulu

... but after my visit to the Shrine, I went to get a KFC (Jesus Christ, I eat so badly here...) and listened to the Ricky Gervais guide to The Earth and laughed off all the crap and the emotions and all that... life's too short... :) ... ... yesterday I met David... this is Australian David, he was on the Vodkatrain tour through Russia and he got caught up in all that shit that led to Joe getting a skull trepanning to release the evil spirits... he had decided to fly home and abandon the tour after all the crap and so I saw him for the first time since the first city I visited during this tour (St.Petersburg)... it was a cool day out we had... he showed me landmarks that I'd never heard about such as the market and the massive library with the armour of Ned Kelly inside (another person I need to read about... apparently a bit of a national hero... another thing to go into the reading list with Japanese history, Mongolian history, etc etc etc...)... it was enjoyable and cool... I always get this kind of nervousness when I (re)meet a travelling friend... I wonder if we'll hit it off again, or if the friendship was of a moment that has passed... but inevitably things pick up where they left off after a short while and it always ends up well and fun... (I had the same nerves before meeting Nikki to sleep on her sofa for 4 nights (I'm back in a hostel now) but we hit it off great again and I think had a cool time... I don't think I destroyed her patience too much... I did buy her the red wine as a gift when I arrived but actually ended up drinking most of the bottle myself (oops!) and so bought her a copy of 'Lord of the Flies' as a gift instead... I can't drink that:) ... ... so now I'm in my last full day in Melbourne... now I have got the Shrine stimulated pensiveness out of my system I can reflect that I really like this city and have had a very cool time here... it is a bit like home, it is interesting, it has everything and I can really understand why people come over here to work... I leave Melbourne for Sydney tomorrow and then fly to Christchurch in New Zealand the day after... so I'm really happy that I'm ending my time in Australia with positive emotions about the country... I arrived in Sydney and in all honesty, I hated it... I understand now that I missed Asia, missed my friends like Khadija, and I am not ready to return to the western world quite yet (don't worry Mum and Dad, I'll come back eventually;)... but Australia has won me over despite its expense, and despite the fact I didn't go out and enjoy the nature... so I'll leave having enjoyed this place and safe in the knowledge that if I ever come back (I think it will be necessary to return as a rich man) there will be some awesome things for me to enjoy... Australia was always just a pit stop between Asia and South America... but it, and my friends I've met here, have served me well:) ... Thanks mate!

... but it's time to soldier on... on to New Zealand... I might have to limp there though because of the ozzie mozzie bite I've got... I got bitten countless times in Asia and it made me itch like I had scabies but I never had a bite like this... a two inch sore patch on my thigh from what I can only guess is a Pygmy tiger bite (they do exist... in my head at least)... So movement is an issue at the moment... but I won't complain (from now on that is... now as in this part of the post onwards, I can't promise what the next post will bring) ... I've been reading like a little devil on the travels so far... I'm up to book number 10! wowzers! ... I'm just starting Lolita... it's meant to be a bit of a classic... I meant to start it before but I decided against it because of the circumstances... I was going to watch a mini-children's play I'd written which was getting performed as part of a big day at the CREATE center in Bristol (sorry, just showing off a bit;)... I wanted to check it out but had to go alone... just me watching a bunch of children's plays alone... I needed a book to read while I was waiting for the plays to begin... I almost took Lolita with me but once I read what the book was about I decided it wasn't entirely appropriate to be seen reading that there... so I took a different book which I later discovered wasn't the most appropriate book either... American Psycho... I couldn't finish that book either, too damned scary... seriously scary stuff!!

OK, I'll go now people... you'll either hear from me next in Sydney or, more likely, in New Zealand... let's see if that country can win me round as successfully as Australia... if it's cheaper then here, half the job's already done;)

... also if there is anyone Japanese reading this blog (I got 21 views from there this week for some reason!) and they take exception to what I wrote please comment... point me in the direction of a good book or website to learn more about your country... I don't want to be unfair and I'm happy to correct myself... please help me learn lovely people:) ... ... I've found that the people are great from most countries, it's just that the nation (whatever that means) can sometimes be a bit chequered... oh, how complicated this ball of water and soil is !!

Love to my family and friends... keep well and keep safe...

Matt:)

... a big shining ball of pure testosterone...

... It's that time again, blog time... the much anticipated time for all the family to gather round the computer as papa reads the blog solemnly to the children for them to learn, absorb the culture, and immerse themselves in my world... In order to better themselves in the parents hope that their child will turn out like me... a good 'un, an upstanding citizen, a beautiful lad, etc...

... So I've met up with Nikki and am sleeping on the sofa of her shared house... it's quite comfy... a superior sofa, fit for me and a king (not together)... it's been a nice change from the $30 hostels with the feeling of a university halls which has collided with a ball of pure and cosmic testosterone... a shining ball which no man can take his eye off of... he fills with a prime evil energy, drinks a beer and mutters to himself... "woman... must find woman" ... repeating it on and on as he stumbles around, bumping into windows like a moth... ... ... I went to the club at a hostel at St.Kildas (like a suburb of Melbourne which is basically a beach kind of place)... I had a good old time with Nikki, her friends Nick, Chris and Steve from Manchester, and some other familiar faces/voices... it turned out that a girl from home, good old Bristol, Natalie, was here with her friend Sophie... I was going to St.Kilda's anyway that evening but they just happened to be there also... so it was good to meet up and catch up... Joe's a mutual friend so I was able to re-tell the St.Petersburg saga, and basically catch up with all the adventures that we'd respectively undertaken... I was also surprised at my joy at hearing the old Bristol accent for the first time since, well I guess since seeing my parents... Sophie has a proper accent, I might even specify it down to Fishponds Bristolian (the little suburb time part of Bristol I grew up in)... it was delightful to hear this voice... my accent too rose to the challenge and by the end of the night I was a good old Bristolian again, even to the point that as I was weaving my way past people to the toilet, I'd say to the girls, "'scuse me love"... oh Christ! at least I didn't call any body "Babber"!

... the club was fairly university... fairly grimy... my flip-flops started sticking to the floor so much that I started walking like i was wearing flippers or something... there was so much broken glass on the floor that I saw numerous cut feet... it was a nice night but a grimy place... ... but the moment I truly felt out of my comfort zone, when I began to long for the glass of wine and the novel that the new "cultured" Matt craves, was when the wet t-shirt competition started... I couldn't see anything but a face and a guy pouring a bucket of water on the girl but all I could think was, "Get some respect for yourself love" ("love" again, damit!)... I didn't think such competitions existed outside of the American Pie Cliche remit but i was proven wrong... men crowded around the stage like hungry Lions licking their lips at the prospect of a fresh raw streak being thrown into the crowd (crowd or crowed?)... it was a relief when it was over... but then the club also had those pole dancing poles in the middle of the dance floor... the girls were attracted to them like moths to a flame... maybe I should have just got in the spirit of the night more, downed a Sambuca and gone up to a girl with the line, "Get your coat toots, you've pulled!"... hummm.... not really me... so I just chilled with my beer and chatted to nice people while watching the carnage unfold... (in truth the place wasn't really that extreme... pretty textbook English boozy place)...

... When i last left you I was planning to visit the film museum, some exhibit about Disney... well that exhibit cost money so that was a no no, but they did have a cool hands on exhibit about the history of TV and technology... and as with these hands-on museums, most of the people who want to have a go on things are children and they are pretty easy to shove off things so I never had to wait that long to try any of the things;) ... my favorite was a thing that made a video like-Matrix style... I liked it, and they e-mailed me a link to my video so I'll paste it here for you to check out (it's not that amazing but I'm easily pleased:)

http://www.acmi.net.au/timeslice/Timeslice.htm?file=ts-20110202-ecae4cf159937d6d8a1f96452a179012.flv

... Also there was a TV showing famous clips from Australian TV history... in a museum for all the family and during the middle of the day they were showing a video of the first ever streaker (female) in the grand final of Ozzie rules football... as I was standing there admiring the work of the stewards in dealing with the pitch invasion, a family appeared to my left... I looked down at the little boy admiring the exhibits, I coughed to my self, mumbled inaudibly 'bloody inappropriate' to myself and moved on... ... ... ... it was a good little museum over all though... (not really sure why I put that little anecdote in to be honest... guess I'm a bit light on tales for this post... or maybe such a irrelevant anecdote is standard fare... . .. I don't know how you people survive reading this tosh... (thank you:)) ...

... Ok, I am getting a bit thin on the ground here now... I know I'm not really doing much here but it is really good just to reside here, to exist and just let the city flow around me... I love it when you walk down the narrow graffiti-laden streets full with niche little independent coffee shops... just to soak up the atmosphere as you walk through the parks and by the river... see families trying to figure out how the city rent-a-bike system works... work colleges sitting under the shade of a rail line having lunch... people hopping on and off the tram without buying a ticket, hoping today won't be the day an inspector gets on... ... ... sometimes experiencing a city in a passive way like this can be really cool and much more interesting then getting on a bus with 40 people and listening to someone say something irrelevant over a crackly PA system... ... ... but you can't do this forever and I can feel my body calling out for the unknown lands of South America... for the exotic, feared, beautiful and misunderstood countries that lay before me... now is the time to be passive... but I will be active once more, soon... and then I'll stop writing crappy anecdotes about wet t-shirt competitions and cosmic light balls of pure testosterone.... ... ...

... but for now, I bid you adue... adue... to you and you and you...

bye bye:)