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The Road to Germany

Sorry you have not heard from me in a few days!  We have been on the road, first spending twenty-one hours on a train to Varanassi, then spending a very long and uneventful day in Agra (City of the Taj Mahal) and then finally getting comfortable in Jaipur the capital of Rajestan.  I will go into some detail a bit later.

Currently we are sitting in the airport.  The airport in Delhi waiting for our flight, which is only about an hour away, somehow this last day has gone quite quickly I wuomd have to say.  The airport is small and it has free wifi so long as you have a mobile, of course I decieded in the last minutes to pack my mobile and so I’m writing this as usual in Word.  Hopeully in Colombo or in Frankfurt I’ll have a bit more luck!

Tomorrow we will be in Germany!  Jeanie is very excited and I’m in slight shock, I can’t really believe we are leaving already, it feels like a drea, the entire time here, as thogh I didn’t actually accomplish anything and as thogh we saw very little.  Bu then, I always said to Jeanie that if she didn’t like india and wanted to leave that she only had to say the workd, I guess she said the word!  We only ended up seeing the three cities I just mentioned and that was enough for her!  I’ve always said this is a country one hates or loves, or for me tolerates.  She knows her parents should never come here and believes she may come back one day but I have my doubts.  I’ve held on to 500 rupees just for good measure, especially as I have my ten year visa and it’s only ten dollars.  Otherwise I can’t see her returning.  She said it was the weather, which has been truly unbeartable, as we went fruher north we stepped again in to the 45c hell and have been managing it better but it’s still painful, we are both a bit burnt and using talcum powder thoughout our bodies to keep the heat rashes down.  Shes had a bad tummy as well for the past week and as you can imagine that has not helped!  I keep trying to tell her it’s healthy but she’s having none of that!

All week in lieu of anything better to do, no insult intended, we have been watching Wimbledon.  Tennis is not my favourite sport and it’s not a sport Jeanie was familiar with at all before.  This evening when we got back to the hotel after a tour of Bhubaneswar the tennis was the first thing Jeanie ran to.  I had to smile!  We are now in the men’s semi-finals and Federa is playing as I write this.  It has been a joy watching him play, and yesterdays match with Serena Williams was the most I’ve possibly ever been into a single match of tennis.  Later this evening we will probably be up too last watching Murray, but we are both wiling to sacrifice a little shut eye for such a British event!

That’s probably all I really need to say about the tennis so for those of you that came to my site via a search engine looking or a good story on the match I’m sorry to let you down!  For all my other readers let me update you on our second to last day in this metropolitan.

I finally managed to recover from my stomach bug, which was really only a little 24 hour pain that my general eating habits made last an extra day.  Last night to prove my fitness I decided I needed pizza!  We went to of all horrible places Pizza Hut!  It was not great but predictable and ….ahh, there is a child in the corridor with an awful wine that I can’t handle, I’ll try closing the window and if that doesn’t work I’ll simply have to write more later…it didn’t really work, the little brat is keeping me from you!

 For those of you that don’t know what Cycling for Celiac Disease Awareness is I’ll briefly explain it now: Jeanie and I have decided that next year we will attempt to cycle from Argentina to Florida.  It’s currently unclear how much we will actually cycle as how much time we have has come into question, also there’s the possibility of some people joining us for segments of our trip in which cycling with non-cyclers could be difficult.  At any rate this remains a district possibility for the start of 2010.  We already have our flights booked to Buenos Aires on the 27th of December 2009 so New Years celebrations will be in a brand new place!

Over the past fortnight as we’ve worked hard to cope with the heat our thoughts have moved more and more in the direction of somewhere just slightly cooler.  Despite the arrival of monsoon (the wet season in India averages four solid months a year) we have not changed our minds on leaving.  It’s quite strange to look at a map and wonder where to spend the next month.  Our budget will allow for some flexibility but not so much so that three weeks in the Caribbean for example is an option!  Jeanie would love to see Malaysia, yet flying backwards, and still running into their monsoon created issues, plus its two flights and one would be somehow more manageable.  There was the idea to fly to Russia, spend three weeks seeing her wonderful two main cities and a spat of smaller ones; then heading to Poland for a cheap flight back to the U.K.  This proved impossible thanks to Russian visa requirements which makes travel agents and return flights a necessity. 

Finally I came up with the idea of Europe.  Not a cheap option yet a romantic one.  It would seem we’re both getting a bit sentimental about “home” these days.  The incessant honking alone is driving Jeanie and I a bit mad at the moment.  I thought to myself, what if we fly to Amsterdam or Frankfurt, one of the cheaper hubs in Europe and brought cheap second-hand bikes.  Without a doubt Holland and Germany are some of the great cycling capitals on mainland Europe, we could pick some up for a penny and be on our way!  Neither of us are in any kind of shape.  We cycled everywhere in Laos on our little crappy Chinese bikes but putting in a few hundred kilometres is a different matter altogether.

Approaching Jeanie with the idea she was up for it; or at least couldn’t think of a better option!  I would like to tell you it’s guaranteed at this moment but the internet in our hotel was down all day yesterday, this means still no flight ticket.  I did find a flight on Sri Lankan Airlines (one of my favourites in the days when I flew to and from Europe on a more regular basis).  I will look to buy the ticket this morning, probably at the same time as posting this! 

The trip at the moment will be something like this: Fly into Frankfurt, head to Cologne and then into Luxemburg and Belgium.  We will then cycle back towards Holland definitely going to Den Hague and Amsterdam before going back to Belgium hopefully along the coast and into France where we will take a ferry to England and end up at Jeanie’s parents’ home in Shoreham-by-Sea!  We are looking to have one month for the trip.  Leaving India on the 11th of July I need to be in London by the morning of the 13th for my birthday!

This is the idea!  I’ll let you know once the tickets are actually brought and I’ll let you know more about Cycling for Celiac’s in the coming days.  I’ve yet to write a proper mission statement but I can feel the time to do so is at hand.

08:30 - It’s time for Nirvana, no not the Buddhist place for eternal bliss but Kurt Cobans idea of hell on earth, hehe!  It seems that somehow it’s only day six here, so yes I’ve been as usual a bit crap at my daily writing.  As you can see it’s quite early, we left the house early and I’ve managed to find what I believe to be the quickest way between our house (hotel) and the dance teacher’s house.  The key to this route is not the actual time it takes but more the pleasantness of not having to deal with a single large road.  The small roads are far more enjoyable as with fewer cars and motorbikes there is less honking.  There is something about honking in this country, something I had actually forgotten, you see, they love it!  When you come to a crossroad you honk, when you see anything in front of you it’s time to honk, really no matter what you can honk, and they do, some more obnoxiously than others, but everyone seems to do it all the time! 

Every morning now I read The Times of India and the New India Express, both are crap they take up an hour and make me feel more educated in some way.  Here in Bhubaneswar there was a road accident in one of the main junctions.  The accident itself I would say is nothing exciting as each day there are some four or five reported, all with casualties.  The roads, especially at night are hazardous and extremely scary in my opinion, I avoid them at all cost.  Perhaps thanks to the British there are trains covering nearly everywhere one needs to go, therefore I rarely find myself on a bus or taxi journey.  Back to the point: this accident is worth mentioning as the cyclist run over by a ten wheeler lorry was not only a milkman but his death (immediate) incited something of a riot.  Apparently the junction was closed for an hour, and according to the Times the “mob” attempted to catch the truck on fire.  This seems a bit elaborate to me, but as I was not there I can’t speculate, I simply thought I would share that story with you for some reason

Perhaps it’s too early, I woke up at six for some reason and as I sit here looking at my heat rash filled arms I wonder how I’ll survive another week!  Yesterday was actually much cooler, on the night before last we finally had some rain appear out of nowhere.  After a cloudless 45c degree day as evening rolled around the clouds moved in.  Great gusts threw up the dirt and rubbish all around threatening rain but doing little of the sort.  It was quite amazing however as the temperature dropped at least 15c inside twenty minutes and as we stood on our balcony Jeanie even wanted to take a video so alive was her excitement.  Only once it seemed the threatening clouds had passed did the rain come.  It rained on and off throughout the night and the following morning walk to the studio was by far the most pleasant.  It was not until evening that Jeanie gave up on the idea of rain once again and the heat rolled in, suddenly after a pleasant day we were again sitting in a puddle of our own sweat.  Sadly this morning looks to bring more heat as indeed the much awaited monsoon has yet to truly arrive. 

Four days ago I brought a small bottle of talcum powder as a small heat rash had begun to develop on my inner thigh, often a problem point for me.  Generally a small bottle has lasted me months if not longer, however this morning I will have to go out and buy a large bottle as the small one is simply not enough.  Jeanie got what we tend to believe may be a slight case of heatstroke the other day and was ill a few times throughout the night while managing to lie in bed for some eighteen hours.  The skin on her face and neck had become quite sensitive to the point of hurting her and upon applying sun cream it only stung her face and had to wash it off straight away.  This effectively wiped out the idea of a sunburn and having spent our entire time here sweating, her particularly in the face we figured her pores must be – I don’t know the term – over exposed.  So we tried the baby powder.  Applying a layer of white to her face for a few days this greatly cut down the amount of sweat and helped her skin to recover.  Therefore, along with her face, my arms, her arms, my legs, and just far more sweat than either of us have ever experienced it’s time to get more powder!

Yesterday was our one chance so far to go and see something, to go explore and see a temple or something yet this didn’t happen.  We walked around too much looking for food and then took a small “digestion walk” after our meal and by this time it was 15:00 and both of us were ready for bed despite the mild temperature.  We did just that not waking up till two hours later and this was effectively the last time Jeanie got out of bed!  I don’t know if it’s the heat or the dancing or the food or having to spend so much time with me but she’s having a rough time with this heat.  If I thought the dirt and poverty would be the kicker I never planned on it being this hot, it radiates throughout everything I’m currently writing so I should find another topic I suppose.  That or I could stop writing this and write an e-mail to someone, that way I could bitch to them about the heat, a fresh audience!!

10:13 – Yes I admit I played Mario Cart! What I did was stop writing this, write a few friends but realizing that I was not in the most pleasant of moods I stopped and played Mario.  I now have forty-five minutes till I need to start walking to Jeanie.  It’s not so how in the room but I have a feeling it’s hot out there and sadly we will do little once again today.  It does make time move slowly, sitting here most of the day, but so far I’m handling it well I think.

Okay I was wrong, it’s overcast and there might be hope for us today.  The only way we will go out is if we come straight home, have a bit to eat and then take a nap.  If we are up by three then there I a good chance, today we will try!  Yesterday we tried to eat somewhere new, well different, and that ended up tireing us out, so today we’ll just do the restaurant in the hotel and then straight to sleep.  She showed up early today so I wonder if that means she’ll finish early?  Probably not…

That’s it for me now, I’m going to get ready to leave and get away from this computer for a bit, plus the power just went out so my battery will die any minute!!

09:55 – The first question there is of course where is home?  That we won’t go into!  Today is Tuesday, on Saturday night we went out with some rich people to a fancy hotel where a glass of wine cost ten dollars and a beer six; Western prices.  I got a mango juice, according to Jeanie who saw the menu juice wasn’t even on the menu!  We didn’t pay, there was never even a issue, the man who picked me up in his Ford SUV was paying for everything, or at least I believe it’s he that paid.  I don’t really like that we went out on Friday and Saturday with Indian’s and both times they paid, both times there was no offer by the Westerners we were with to even help with the bill.  At least I enjoyed the company of both sets of Indian’s, and to be honest found them far more interesting than their expat counterpart.  One vast difference between the expats here and those in Laos is the first question is now what you do and who you work for, in fact it never really comes up in conversation where all too often in Laos it is the base of any conversation and one is very much judged by his response. 

Sunday evening was once again Jeanie and I.  We slept for four hours in the afternoon and then went for a little walk.  I had ventured to the shop below the hotel and brought three different bags of Indian sweets so by the time dinner came around I wasn’t in the slightest bit hungry.  The monsoon has arrived and with it much cooler weather, allowing for such things as evening walks!  It now stays below 35c all the time and there is often a fair amount of beautiful cloud cover!  With my stomach feeling very full but a parched throat I suggested we go to a juice place we’d patronised previously.  The fruit here leaves something to be desired, the mangos taste funny, the apple and pineapples are puny and the oranges have skin as thick as an old work horse.  Jeanie got a grape juice and I decided on an apple juice.  I already knew I didn’t like her grape from the previous visit.

Both of our drinks tasted a bit funny, perhaps that should have been the warning.  Jeanie could not even drink hers, she had perhaps two mouthfuls which was more than I could have managed before giving up.  I finished mine although realized it was far from the best juice we’ve tasted.  Upon leaving it was unanimously decided not to return there.  We then went to The Veg a new semi street restaurant that’s become a favourite.  The kitchen is inside, taking up most of the inside space but it’s clean and the staff seem quite efficient.  Then they have plastic chairs outside coved by a tarp for when it rains.  The place has very tasty and cheap chow mein with a large plate costing a mere twenty rupees.  As I’ve said I was full and took a far less substantial mushroom and cheese wrap where Jeanie got the mushroom chow mein. 

All that night I was restless; not ready for bed at ten when Jeanie nodded off, I watched a bit of telly till eleven; then tossed and turned for awhile before finally falling off to sleep.  By five, I was awake and standing outside on the balcony wondering what to do with myself.  It was not long before I was on the toilet but didn’t think much of that first visit.  Soon after there was another visit; and then again while reading the paper.  It occurred to me that I would not be walking Jeanie to her class for the first time, and with the way my stomach felt I told her not to expect me to walk her back either.  I spent the next four hours on and off the toilet with nothing but water running out of me.  I also had to throw up four times before noon and they revealed that definitely my system was clean as it was pure water each time. 

Getting ill in India is nothing special, nearly everyone has the pleasure at one point or another.  Perhaps because on my previous visit I avoided such a fate I thought I would be so lucky this time!  Having had a few major illnesses over the years I was able to rule out some unpleasantness like typhoid fever and giardia.  By the time Jeanie returned I was not feeling well but feeling a lot better, at least the bulk of the action appeared over.  The one irony was on the first day I was actually interested in watching TV I found our TV not working, until 19:00 last night there was no cable, so the much needed mindless distraction I could not have.  The general discomfort of my stomach along with a slight fever made my entire body ache and I was extremely fidgety.  Unable to sleep I also couldn’t sit up for any length of time yet my back and hips hurt due to lying mindlessly in bed all day!  It was not till late evening, when I’d become bored of TV as Wimbledon’s coverage moved to doubles, hardly a main stage event, that I was able to sit for awhile and read. 

Jeanie diligently looked after me and sadly our less than friendly local chemist didn’t have any sleeping aids, as I was worried about a second night of discomfort.  I’d taken a dissolvable aspirin over two stages earlier and was keen to try that again, I knew I was feeling better and knowing that the aspirin was helping without making me feel unjustly better I was keen to try again.  Our chemist also didn’t have this and instead sold her 500mg tablets.  I’d managed to get down a small bag of ready salted crisps up to that point but that was to end soon.  Without thinking I took one tablet of aspirin and almost immediately could feel it’s effect on my empty stomach, exactly what I’d hoped to avoid!  Within ten minutes of taking the pill I only got as far as the sink…after that I felt much better!

And so it is I managed to get a good nights sleep, falling off at ten I didn’t get up till just gone six.  Although I will have to stop writing in a minute as my eyes are hurting quite a bit and I need the toilet I have a good amount of confidence that by this time tomorrow I’ll be fit and fresh eating puri from across the road!

09:32 – It’s difficult not to dedicate this first paragraph and even this entire post to a man I’ve know my entire life.  As many of us possibly feel this way I was surprised and surprised by my sadness at hearing the news of his departure.  Upon reflection, as I heard last night on the dance floor I am even happy for him.  It’s difficult not to imagine that life off Earth must be better for him; obviously a very rich and well known man he clearly never truly grew up and was in ill health for many years.    

I remember so well receiving the Bad cassette as a gift from my mother.  I listened to it continually as youths do with their favourite albums.  It always surprised and pleased me how England never quite gave up on him in the way his birth country did.  On many a dance floor in London many a popular DJ would not hesitate to do a rendition of Beat It or Thriller or any number of his hits always to the crowds enjoyment. In America I always felt there was more of a stigma after his unfortunate trials that perhaps confused and upset this boy/man more than anything.  While, eating my breakfast and thinking about The King of Pop I fondly remembered a recent incident that struck me at the time but quickly passed from memory till now.  Recently I lived and worked in New York as a Census Employee and at one point was dispatched to one of the many Brooklyn projects (Council Flats) where a white man like myself was not only a minority but unwelcome.  Standing outside of one building counting doorbells, as I did for weeks on end, I heard from a first floor apartment the stereo blasting some classic MJ.  I believe it was off the Thriller album but I can’t be certain.  Upon hearing this I smiled as it pleased me to know that some people still appreciated this man that somehow touched so many of us so deeply. 

To be completely honest it’s been years since I actively listened to Michael Jackson and if I had an internet connection I would most certainly be downloading and listening to one of those classic albums right now.  I will leave this segment with some quotes that were reported in the New India Express:

 

“The world has lost an icon; he has given the world a treasure with his songs.  I hope he finds the peace he deserves after so much suffering” Sofia Loren

“It’s clear that the criminals in this affair are the doctors who treated him throughout his career, who destroyed his face, who gave him medicine to ease his pain” Tarak Ben Ammar

“Just as there will never be another Fred Astaire or Chuck Berry or Elvis Presley there will never be anyone comparable to Michael Jackson” Steven Spielberg

 

****

 

Last night we finally went out to discover Bubaneshwar nightlife!  I managed to get a four hour nap in the afternoon which was not expected but it was so cool in our room with the fan running that I just couldn’t get myself out of bed!  Today I can’t complain about the weather; despite my sitting here sweating its overcast out and the temperature has dropped considerable.  It was decided in the afternoon when I picked up Jeanie that we would go out with her teacher and some other people around 20:00.  For us this seemed slightly late as dinner would probably not proceed until an hour later and then going dancing, I can’t say we were all that excited, but knowing that it’s important to be social and meet new people we went along. 

Our first stop after being picked up by two very nice Indian men was a Chinese restaurant connected with a hotel.  I didn’t even want to look at the menu for fear of the prices but was ultimately forced to, however I refused to make any decisions on what we would eat and with the exception of Jeanie choosing Veg Spring Rolls we left the ordering up to the others.  The food was very mediocre, certainly given the price, but somehow I expected little else.  Maybe as far as Indian Chinese goes it was good, I really don’t know!

When the bill arrived we never saw it as one of the Indian men quickly grabbed it and paid which was very kind and unnecessary.  I’d already managed to take my belt off, take 500 rupees from the inside lining and put my belt back on without anyone noticing, perhaps for this reason alone I wanted to spend some of my retrieved bills!  Both men spoke good English and were massive.  They clearly spent a good amount of time in the gym or caring very heavy objects for although they were skinny their arms were easily double the side of mine, and I weight in at 95kilo’s with 180 meters tall, so I’m not a small guy by most standards.  (Perhaps I’m thin in America, and maybe an increasingly obese Thailand, but otherwise as they would say in India I’m healthy)! 

Vientiane, Laos is not considered a great place to party yet after last night I believe it has more options than Bubaneshwar.  Firstly we went to a hotel with a basement disco that was reserved for a birthday party; however they were willing to let us in if we kept to the bar.  Jeanie, one of the Indian’s and myself stood in silent disbelief with our chests inadvertently pounding due to the loudness of the music only made greater due to the scarcity of people.  Upon entry was a dance floor with lighting in the floor clearly visible as nobody was dancing.  Once entering the room on the left was an elevated seating area, the DJ booth and to the right the bar; long enough that if seated at the other end one would not be able to see the dance floor at all.  There were perhaps thirty people in the place, which could easily fit a hundred and fifty packed partying people.  Of the clientele there were only three women, plus Jeanie.  All of the women were with the “party” taking place on the raised area, two of them dressed identically awful in white stilettos, black trousers, a white top with a black leather vest covering only their shoulders and breasts.  One got the feeling they were hired to attend but I wouldn’t want to make any presumptions on their character. 

Eventually the others showed and didn’t make it past the doorway before summoning us to leave and try another place.  Ten Downing Street was our next location, also in a hotel, but this time in THE hotel of Bubaneshwar.  This bar/disco it seems brought the entire catalogue of Classic British Paraphernalia for an authentic style British Pub Feel.  I will admit it was somehow nice, in the way those places always are to one who’s spent so much time in real pubs.  This pub had a capacity for a few hundred yet there were at best twenty people mulling about.  A pool table and two lane ten pin bowling also adored the pub, as so many of their English counterparts also encompasses! 

We arrived at eleven unsure of when closing was.  Four of us (Jeanie not included) headed to the dance floor and got in all of two dances before the music was turned off along with the air-conditioning.  This is where I discovered of Michael Jacksons death.  By midnight Jeanie and I were in bed not looking forward to yet another seven am wake-up call.  It’s now a quarter past ten and time for some Mario Cart before my mile walk….

Turning Thirty

Hi Everyone,

As you all know I don’t often do group mails, there is something often horrible and impersonal about them.  Hence my writing one, hehe.  Many of you I have not spoken to in years, many of you perhaps even forget as much as I do who exactly I am.  I figure this must be natural over time?  Maybe it’s because I’m turning 30 soon (in August) or because it’s been a rather rough three years that I feel the need to write this.

 

I left home when I was 16; hard to believe that’s fourteen years ago now!  I started travelling when I was 18, moving first to London, a place that has become more of a home to me than anywhere I know.  London brought to me (over time) a place I could feel comfortable in, a place with friends, and equally as importantly a place of love.  Can it really be that I met some of you twelve years ago!  “Tony” the man who first convinced me to try a joint, that was in 1998 at the now long defunct Social Club.  That was also as a result the first time I properly inhaled, hence bring my odd flirtation with cigarettes into a new light, and into a many year love affair at a pack a day!  Sadly I’ve since stopped; perhaps many of us have, regrettably! 

 

My travels then were not what they are today.  I moved to London an American, I moved there wanting of all things to open an American Bar.  Somehow I felt that London would need one and that I could do well in such an industry.  Now of course I wouldn’t dream of opening such a place and only with reluctance do I admit my true nationality.  I had very little money and knew nobody but this never seemed to stop me.

 

For years I would travel without money.  My habit seemed to run along the line of a thousand dollars in the bank and a thousand dollar plane ticket on the MasterCard!  I never was one with any money, perhaps some of you noticed as I never took part in any diving or rock climbing or river rafting or much of anything except smoking and drinking copious amounts of Coca-Cola! 

 

In 1999 I met a man at work.  A Bangladeshi busboy that seemed very nice if not extremely patriotic, (sadly he will not be receiving this mail).  At this point I’d just come back from living in Puerto Rico and although I didn’t know what I wanted to do I knew that I somehow wanted to do something.  I had been a few places and it wasn’t so much a love of travel as it was a question.  What do I do with my life?  What is my purpose?  I’ve stopped asking such questions now; I simply don’t know the answer, hehe!  What I did know was that I was not happy in New York and definitely not interested in living with my mother in California.  I met Paul at this moment in my life; an outlandish black gay Jamaican who fancied straight white American boys.  I was perfect, and lonely, and where I most certainly enjoyed his company and found humour in his never ending advances he was at least a friend.  (It’s amazing to think how now, in 2009 he is the only person I still know in New York that’s not family). 

 

I had just turned twenty and there were a few things about myself I did know.  I knew I would never be a scholar, having quit High School at sixteen and then only doing the briefest of stints at a number of Colleges I didn’t fit the academic mould.  I was still a Capitalist but my travelling was starting to change all that.  It was this boy, this Bangladeshi man, which would introduce real changes without even knowing it. 

 

I’ve already said he was Nationalistic.  He loved Bangladesh and loved telling me about how amazing it was.  I of course knew nothing about it, perhaps didn’t even know where it was on the map, but I enjoyed listening and daydreaming about it.  Eventually I gave in!  I can’t say when I brought the ticket, I remember going to the dingy office that represented Bangladesh Airlines in Manhattan, it was that orange colour so common in the seventies, and in McDonalds, except the walls were stained a darker colour, that from years of smoking, clearly still going on after hours, the nicotine was imbedded in the walls.  The ticket was one thousand two hundred and sixty dollars.  I put it on my American Express Optimum (means you don’t have to pay monthly) card as usual.  I then went to see a doctor, it seems one should get shots before going to such places!

 

The doctors office was a private one, one of my customers must have given me the info, for it was fancy and on the Upper East Side in Manhattan, nothing is cheap on the Upper East Side!  My bill came to seven hundred dollars, which included a variety of shots, malaria tablets and constipation pills; I think they were meant to give you constipation in case you had diarrhoea, a funny paradox!  I always have been of the belief that if it wants to get out, let it out!!  On my last day my flatmate, Carrie-Ann gave me a Zippo lighter, I still carry it around despite not using it.  She also gave me a travel umbrella, I no longer have it.

 

For some unknown reason when I left New York I told people I would be gone a year and a half.  I don’t know where this figure or notion came from but that’s what I said.  I’d spent yet more money on Lonely Planet Guide Books, buying one for Bangladesh, Bhutan, Burma and Thailand.  God only knows why.  The Bangladesh guild turned out to be four years old and of no use at all.  My early plans for heading overland from Bangladesh to Thailand were thwarted by the simple truth that land boarders between these three countries don’t exist.  As for Bhutan, I clearly didn’t do my homework, ten years on and I could still only get in via a thousand dollar one week tour!

 

***

 

I don’t intend to go though ten years of travel here, that would take up far too much time and too many blank pages would be murdered.  I suppose I simply wanted to illustrate that travel was never my intention; it was not a dream or a wish.  As a young man the only place I really wanted to go was Australia.  I would eventually get there, in 2007.  I stayed a month with IT Boy, (finally someone that will get this letter).  It was nice but again I was broke and sadly never really left Sydney.  Back then I didn’t know about Couch Surfing and that almost definitely would have changed things.  I never did buy another Lonely Planet, still don’t see the need as every person you meet has one and better to glance at theirs in order to find out where not to go!  These days I stay as far away from the backpackers track as possible.

 

I’ve met some wonderful people over the past ten years: Darrell, living in India with his family fancying himself as a bit of a guru, perhaps it could have come true if he’d not moved back to America.  Bo, a kind woman that let me touch her bum one night, hehe!  She’s been on the road as long as I have and hopefully one day we’ll accidentally run into each other once again! How could I forget Bryn, the Welshman that would forever change my life by introducing me to football and LFC.  The Argentinean girls in Guatemala!  Hopefully I’ll be meeting up with them in December when I fly to Buenos Aires…

 

The list goes on, it could go on for pages and it’s been amazing.  I’ve somehow managed to spend the entirety of my adult life playing more than working, travelling more than stressing and talking, talking to so many great people in so many different places.  I can’t help but love the time when on Bali in Indonesia I spent so much time with a thick accented Frenchman that one morning at breakfast an Australian couple commented on how good OUR English was!  That was classic!  I wouldn’t give it up for the world, and I wouldn’t change a thing either. 

 

After all this time I still don’t have a University Diploma (except for the one from New York University that I brought in 2001 for eighty-five dollars); I don’t have a proper job or a proper profession and yet I’m starting along this new road, this new decade with confidence.

 

When I was about to turn twenty-six I was told by numerous people that for men the time between twenty-six and thirty were the hardest to handle.  I have long been a self aware fairly spiritual man and I thought I was prepared for this time, if the challenges were to come.  They did.  I have to say that the past three years of my life have been difficult.  Not in the traditional since of having to work eighty hour weeks for a pittance of money, you know I wouldn’t do that!  It was more mental.  In the past three years I’ve lost more friends than I’ve made, I’ve worked more than I had in the previous eight and I’ve had my heart broken.  Perhaps that last one was a good thing! 

 

I turned twenty-six and didn’t have any particular plans as usual and eventually found myself back in London.  I spent nine months there, and they were good months but not enjoyable exactly.  For the first time grey hairs started to appear.  I felt that I should live somewhere, should be able to stay still if not only to prove it to myself.  It didn’t really work. 

 

I eventually flew to New York.  I told my mother I’d work with her for five months, I don’t know what came next, but that was my idea.  By this point I had become positively anti-American.  To this day I know very few of them and spend very little time with them, it’s nothing personal you see, it’s simply that I don’t feel any connection and therefore see little reason to associate with them.  I didn’t enjoy my months in New York.  I tried, I wanted to like it but I didn’t.  Ultimately I went back to Asia, back to my old stomping ground.  It seems to me that the past three years have been more than anything different.  I didn’t travel so much and I kept trying to settle myself down, the only problem is that where people expect me to settle down I just don’t want to!  It’s like when you stop smoking, all the people in the world can tell you it’s bad for you, or that you shouldn’t do it and it makes no difference, I love smoking, I would smoke today if I could, but I know the health of my body can’t handle it.  I love travelling, so why should I stop, my body can handle it!

 

I’ve been with an English woman for a year and a half now.  We live together, we travel together, we laugh together, it’s nice, and it’s great.  She doesn’t want to change me, she didn’t fall in love with one man and expect another, for this she was the first and I’m happy.  We talk about settling down, in the future, we talk about kids and all that, perhaps it’s because she’s 23 and I’m 29 that I know I have a few years left before the inevitable happens!  Let’s hope that then I’ll be prepared!!

 

I’m wondering if I should read through what I’ve just written to you all?  Often I would not, I would let it sit as it stands and hope for the best.  My gut tells me to do this once again.  I live in Laos now, for another week at least!  We have been here in the capital city of Vientiane for nine months.  I was still on this wave of settling instead of travelling.  We talked about travelling somewhere and I said no, I want to sit; I want to stay and make a life somewhere.  My best friend lives and works here so it seemed like an easy logical option.  For myself it’s been a tough ride, just like the past three years where I’ve spent my time trying to settle somewhere!  I’m done with all that.  For Jeanie it’s been a great experience and has possibly lead to a way where we can travel and live and maybe even have a family one day while not being entirely tied to one place, but I won’t go into all that! 

 

Soon enough I head over the boarder to Thailand where I’ll do a meditation course before on the 17th we fly off to India!  I look forward to the return and Jeanie looks forward to her first trip there.  I’ve now been to some 51 countries (slightly higher if you include some former countries) and Jeanie’s been to 25, most of them we have not seen together.  I’ve found myself a travelling woman and a way to look forward to my next decade, my next set of chapters. 

 

I don’t know what my future will bring.  Oddly enough I know some of the locations in the near future, and for now at least I know some of the players.  I never would have guessed at the age of sixteen when I first arrived in New York that I’d be turning thirty in India.  I suppose I thought I would have all my birthdays in New York, and before that I thought I’d have all my birthdays in San Francisco; and the beautiful thing is: if Jeanie doesn’t like India then I don’t even know where I’ll have my 30th!

 

I want to thank you all for making it this far into my letter.  Except of course for those of you who just skipped to the end hehe!  It’s been such an amazing ten years, such an amazing experience with all of you and I really do hope this finds you happy and healthy.  Some of you already have a family, kids, mortgages and the whole lot. I’ve still not gone down that road, but it somehow feels closer, and I somehow feel just a little bit less lost!

 

Love,

            Jeffrey D. Loucks

            Vientiane, 28.5.200

A Blast from my Past

08:30 - It’s time for Nirvana, no not the Buddhist place for eternal bliss but Kurt Cobans idea of hell on earth, hehe!  It seems that somehow it’s only day six here, so yes I’ve been as usual a bit crap at my daily writing.  As you can see it’s quite early, we left the house early and I’ve managed to find what I believe to be the quickest way between our house (hotel) and the dance teacher’s house.  The key to this route is not the actual time it takes but more the pleasantness of not having to deal with a single large road.  The small roads are far more enjoyable as with fewer cars and motorbikes there is less honking.  There is something about honking in this country, something I had actually forgotten, you see, they love it!  When you come to a crossroad you honk, when you see anything in front of you it’s time to honk, really no matter what you can honk, and they do, some more obnoxiously than others, but everyone seems to do it all the time! 

Every morning now I read The Times of India and the New India Express, both are crap they take up an hour and make me feel more educated in some way.  Here in Bhubaneswar there was a road accident in one of the main junctions.  The accident itself I would say is nothing exciting as each day there are some four or five reported, all with casualties.  The roads, especially at night are hazardous and extremely scary in my opinion, I avoid them at all cost.  Perhaps thanks to the British there are trains covering nearly everywhere one needs to go, therefore I rarely find myself on a bus or taxi journey.  Back to the point: this accident is worth mentioning as the cyclist run over by a ten wheeler lorry was not only a milkman but his death (immediate) incited something of a riot.  Apparently the junction was closed for an hour, and according to the Times the “mob” attempted to catch the truck on fire.  This seems a bit elaborate to me, but as I was not there I can’t speculate, I simply thought I would share that story with you for some reason

Perhaps it’s too early, I woke up at six for some reason and as I sit here looking at my heat rash filled arms I wonder how I’ll survive another week!  Yesterday was actually much cooler, on the night before last we finally had some rain appear out of nowhere.  After a cloudless 45c degree day as evening rolled around the clouds moved in.  Great gusts threw up the dirt and rubbish all around threatening rain but doing little of the sort.  It was quite amazing however as the temperature dropped at least 15c inside twenty minutes and as we stood on our balcony Jeanie even wanted to take a video so alive was her excitement.  Only once it seemed the threatening clouds had passed did the rain come.  It rained on and off throughout the night and the following morning walk to the studio was by far the most pleasant.  It was not until evening that Jeanie gave up on the idea of rain once again and the heat rolled in, suddenly after a pleasant day we were again sitting in a puddle of our own sweat.  Sadly this morning looks to bring more heat as indeed the much awaited monsoon has yet to truly arrive. 

Four days ago I brought a small bottle of talcum powder as a small heat rash had begun to develop on my inner thigh, often a problem point for me.  Generally a small bottle has lasted me months if not longer, however this morning I will have to go out and buy a large bottle as the small one is simply not enough.  Jeanie got what we tend to believe may be a slight case of heatstroke the other day and was ill a few times throughout the night while managing to lie in bed for some eighteen hours.  The skin on her face and neck had become quite sensitive to the point of hurting her and upon applying sun cream it only stung her face and had to wash it off straight away.  This effectively wiped out the idea of a sunburn and having spent our entire time here sweating, her particularly in the face we figured her pores must be – I don’t know the term – over exposed.  So we tried the baby powder.  Applying a layer of white to her face for a few days this greatly cut down the amount of sweat and helped her skin to recover.  Therefore, along with her face, my arms, her arms, my legs, and just far more sweat than either of us have ever experienced it’s time to get more powder!

Yesterday was our one chance so far to go and see something, to go explore and see a temple or something yet this didn’t happen.  We walked around too much looking for food and then took a small “digestion walk” after our meal and by this time it was 15:00 and both of us were ready for bed despite the mild temperature.  We did just that not waking up till two hours later and this was effectively the last time Jeanie got out of bed!  I don’t know if it’s the heat or the dancing or the food or having to spend so much time with me but she’s having a rough time with this heat.  If I thought the dirt and poverty would be the kicker I never planned on it being this hot, it radiates throughout everything I’m currently writing so I should find another topic I suppose.  That or I could stop writing this and write an e-mail to someone, that way I could bitch to them about the heat, a fresh audience!!

10:13 – Yes I admit I played Mario Cart! What I did was stop writing this, write a few friends but realizing that I was not in the most pleasant of moods I stopped and played Mario.  I now have forty-five minutes till I need to start walking to Jeanie.  It’s not so how in the room but I have a feeling it’s hot out there and sadly we will do little once again today.  It does make time move slowly, sitting here most of the day, but so far I’m handling it well I think.

Okay I was wrong, it’s overcast and there might be hope for us today.  The only way we will go out is if we come straight home, have a bit to eat and then take a nap.  If we are up by three then there I a good chance, today we will try!  Yesterday we tried to eat somewhere new, well different, and that ended up tireing us out, so today we’ll just do the restaurant in the hotel and then straight to sleep.  She showed up early today so I wonder if that means she’ll finish early?  Probably not…

That’s it for me now, I’m going to get ready to leave and get away from this computer for a bit, plus the power just went out so my battery will die any minute!!

(It must be notted that the photos in the last post, and any paragraph seperation and such useful additions have not converted over from Word and as i don’t have much time online here i have not made said adjustments.  Sorry for the inconvienance.)

I must be getting near that point of bored heat exhaustion; this is not good as its only day two of twelve! I played my first game of Mario Cart in what must be months, I even had to reinstall the N64 simulator, therefore all my previous games were lost and it was the Mushroom Cup at 50cc, I don’t think I’ve ever made it as far as the 150cc but maybe these next ten days will change all that! Perhaps it should be mentioned that I don’t move forward unless I get gold. I’ve decided it’s time for a shave. I had one four days ago and in this heat and Jeanie’s preference for my unshaven look it’s not really necessary but I do need a hair cut something desperate. I’ve made a pact to not cut my hair for a whole year, this started on February 1st 2009 and so far I’ve kept the pact. I actually shaved my head clean bald so the experiment would be complete, how long does one’s hair grow in a year? Today’s trim will be the first and the general scruffiness of my hair demands something be done, particularly in a country where a haircut is less than fifty pence! I will possibly have to do a bit of negotiating, as a shave should cost me no more than 10 rupees or 7p and a haircut no more than 20 rupees or 15p. This is why I, this is sadly perhaps one of my main reasons for getting excited about going to India. For the next six weeks I will not shave myself, I will not even look at a razor except in the shower when doing my armpits! I’m off; I will detail the experience after the experience. My one rule (I’m back by the way) that I always manage to forgo at some point is one that always annoys me afterwards. To start with let’s say Jeanie will be happy with my new haircut, it’s definitely shorter than I would have liked. I’ll be going along with the old verbiage that cutting helps stimulate growth, so perhaps it’ll come back stronger and longer sooner! The shave was like any other shave, twice around the face followed by aftershave. He then gave something of a massage that included a huge amount of cracking in my neck and oddly enough my elbows. The tall smiling nearly black man has nothing more than a hut. He operates in a row of huts, the one next to him is a Chai (tea) shop, the others lie empty. It’s something like an outhouse with one side exposed to the elements, slightly elevated in case of rains and definitely one of the cheaper haircutting options. The only thing cheaper than this is literally a chair and mirror on the street corner, he can be proud of having a “building”. Approaching his building he came running over all smiles, he’d been trying to get me in his shop for some days already. It was obvious I needed a cut and a shave and when I asked him how much he simply waved me off as if it should be of no concern. I wasn’t actually sure if he could speak the red stains of beetle-nut in his mouth and low lying grunts made me wonder. I let it pass, thinking it could not cost me much off the above mentioned prices. When the cracks and smiles and cuts were complete I smiled at him and asked him how much. I’ve always found asking this question of Indians can prove difficult. The words themselves often leave one without a reply and the rubbing of two fingers has never produced much more. I did see on my first day in Calcutta a man do a similar sign using not only his thumb and pointer but using all his fingers. I can’t tell if this has worked better or not, I tend to now do a combination of everything I can think of! And remember, most of these people speak some English if not a decent amount. My barber had begun to speak using a funny combination of words that he possibly didn’t know the meaning of. Faced with this question I received the usual nothingness followed by gestures towards his head (haircut) followed by five fingers, his face (shave) another five fingers, and my legs (massage) with one finger. He did this a few times as I looked on in wonderment. Five rupees is too little for a haircut and fifty is too much for either, the one on my legs made no sense to me at all, perhaps ten, certainly not one or one hundred? I should have confirmed all this beforehand, bargaining after the fact is never a good idea; at least I had small change! Seeing my confusion he said he wanted one hundred and fifty rupees! I didn’t even bring that much with me. He wanted fifty for each it would seem, a crazy price that I would never pay, I handed him twenty. He continued with his amounts. I then took the twenty and put forty on the counter in front of me, still more than I feel okay about but the fifty he was now demanding was never going to happen, I had ninety with me, four tens and a fifty, the fifty was staying with me and I think as I put it in my pocket and stood up he saw this. If I rationalize twenty for the cut, ten for the shave and ten for the massage then I don’t mind, even so, it’s more than an outhouse would ever get from a local! In four days time when I’m again looking for a shave I will not go to him, he could have had me for the rest of my time here but I don’t forgive business easily. It’s twenty past ten and I feel like a nap! This can’t happen as I must leave for Jeanie in half an hour but once again sleep was restless and full of funny dreams. At least this time there were no mozzies! I must get my pair of jeans fixed now, the crotch is coming undone and I want to put in a couple hidden pockets. I’ve already found the old tailor with a similar style outhouse that I want to go to. I don’t know the prices really but I’m guessing for under a dollar the deal should be done. Time for a bit more Mario Cart and then I’ll hit the streets! 13:56 – I’m going to start time stamping my new entries. It should be noted now that if you’ve been thinking what a wuss I am for complaining about the heat I read in the Times of India just now that yesterdays high was 44.6c and the same again today with an expected low of 30.1 and %79 percent humidity! I’m amazed I can move at all!! Well, I’m heading downstairs to the internet soon and I’ll be publishing this, Speak soon xx Jeffrey

India begins

Welcome to India!

The Road to Orissa It’s amazing to think we’ve only been in India for four days now, its all gone so quickly. We spent the first night in Calcutta with a couch surfer which I continue to believe to be a great introduction into any country or even new city. We had the idea to stay two days in Calcutta and then head south to the state of Orissa. Jeanie knew of a Japanese dance teacher there that she was keen to meet and spend a couple weeks learning from. It’s not the ideal time, to head straight into work from work, but that’s the way I was working out! Our flight from Bangkok was delayed by an hour so instead of arriving with some hours of daylight still remaining by the time our destination was reached it was dark outside and there seemed o be little chance of us venturing out of the house on our own. We were immediately introduced to six different people and spent the rest of the night eating, talking and mostly listening to this group of friends who occasionally remembered that Bengali was not one of the languages we spoke! They were very nice to us and it came as something of a surprise when investigating our options for heading south on the train there were no seats available for the next week bearing four pm the following day. This would mean little to no time spent in Calcutta and my inevitable hesitation at spending two weeks in a single large Indian city was upon me. Jeanie knew from the beginning I was not keen on the idea of spending two weeks sitting around as she danced for a few hours each day. I had been to Orissa on my first trip to India in 2000; avoiding our current destination, the capital, in favour of the small sea town of Puri. My original thoughts lead me to spending two weeks there while Jeanie danced however this created one old problem and one new. The idea of spending two weeks away from her knowing she was only two hours away was not one I relished, perhaps even being bored for two weeks was a better option. The second new issue was discovering the reason for all the trains being booked out. The largest Orissian festival is to take place on the 24th and as a result all the hotels and trains in and surrounding Puri are booked out. How this small town managed to hold the largest festival in this state of one point five million people I do not know, however with this being the case any chance of a cheap quiet week in Puri was out of the question. As my couchsurfing host pointed out: most likely any room that usually would go for two hundred rupees (four US dollars) would inflate to closer to a thousand! The exact amount representing my entire daily budget! Being a rational supportive boyfriend I therefore opted to mope around for a fortnight. Until now! I have just moved our stuff into a hotel room after spending two nights at a good friend of the couch surfer from Calcutta when I laid down to have a quick shut-eye. Jeanie is dancing. After a sleepless night last night thanks to what must have been millions of mosquitoes I’m tired. Lying there I decided to listen to some music, perhaps it was playing with this mini computer that made me think of my larger hunk that sat tucked away in my rucksack. The idea of writing, the idea of spending the next couple weeks writing…even if I only write on the blog any period of writing for me is a very positive thing! As I don’t have internet here in the hotel (a good thing) I will write everything out in word on my computer and transfer it over! I must go pick up Jeanie soon, our new location is only a twenty minute walk from her lesions. This is easy enough baring the fact it’s in the high thirties with some eighty percent humidity, walking in mid-day is nothing shy of a pleasure! Okay I’m off, I must write to a friend before leaving the house. I’ve never been one for writing mails out an then sending them, just not a Thunderbird man, however this concerns possibly buying his old laptop that is better than my old laptop. It’s hard to know if I’m too cheap to buy a new one or simply don’t see it as such a priority, I’ve turned into such an anti consumer it’s incredible. I feel I should take a photo of my new street and surroundings, so I will take them now and include them in this post. Speak soon, love, Jeffrey 22.6.09 And one last photo for all you electricians out there!!

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