Monday, 31 August 2009

Closing in

A relatively short and mostly painless flight into Dubai, as our tickets for sydney were independently booked of our turkey-UAE flights we had to completely check out, go through passport control, out of customs, fight over whether I was allowed a cigarette in the dripping humidity then get a bus to the next terminal, check in, buy an overpriced breakfast and wander the purgatory that is an airport terminal for a few hours.  I've gone through so many metal detectors and screeners that I've just removed my belt entirely and am walking at dangerous risk of flashing my well tanned thighs to all of the travellers.  Eyes are drying out, body doesn't know what time zone its in, am going to be fuct on return.  And then I'll have to deal with Sydney.

Next year? insillah

We awoke to a city decorated with even more flags than usual. Up till now the only place with more national flags fluttering has been the US of A but on 30 august, victory day, istanbul has handily clinched that dubious honour.  We had a late checkout, thankfully, as it took us the best part of an hour to arrange our acquisitions in a configuration that would allow the zips to close.  Here's hoping that we don't get caught out with a weight violation on the Istanbul-Dubai leg of the journey home (I was reminded, reading the Poisonwood Bible that while airlines can be strict on baggage, they rarely weigh the passengers so we might be decked out with every t-shirt and pair of pantaloons we've got with us).  The last museum of the trip was the old Sultan's palace and was definitely the highlight, the contents of the treasury are simply spectacular, classical treasures which you only expect to find in a d&d game with with a very generous dungeon master, egg sized emeralds, bejewelled swords and armour, the biggest and most ornate candlesticks I've ever seen and, of course, the 89 carat diamond whose name I've forgotten already that was originally found in a garbage dump and then sold for three spoons.  I guess the finder, like me, wasn't a very good haggler.  All of these items gifted and swapped amongst the royalty of the wider world, at least now they seem to be in possession of the "people".  Decided to seperate for a while as I couldn't quite muster the enthusiasm for another venture into the western style malls of this town. The last day of a trip always feels quite strange to me, I end up wandering the areas that I'm now familiar, I feel that the spruikers realise I've been there for a while and are ignoring me now although perhaps its just me who is ignoring them but maybe not completely.  In our last hours we still, bafflingly, acquired more stuff, and this was complimented by the fact that we probably ingested another couple of kilos of foods, foodstuffs and food related non foods.  Somehow managed to schmooze our way onto the plane with all the extra kilos we've gained on this trip and there were no arrests for public disturbances either (which never go down well at airports). 
As for returning to this country, as much as I've loved I can only hope that the travels take me back although returning to a country is always difficult when there are so many others I am yet to see.  I surely hope I will because if I don't there's going to be a rug seller who will be very upset with me.  Insillah. 

Sunday, 30 August 2009

To the end

on Our first night in istanbul as we explored the local regions looking for someplace for eats we were assaulted by various spruikers including one place that served the ottoman special dish of testi kebab and according to the restaurant they were the only place in turkey that did it.  Well, as we ranged further around the country we did find other places that served it but finally on our last night we made the decision to sample this local delicacy.  A spicyish stew cooked in a sealed amphora that is broken open by the waiter with a firey show.  Our waiter explained in between his flourishes that ocean's 7 was the ONLY place that did a true testi kebab and everyone else just copied them, I wasn't to argue but it was definitely a meal highlight in a country of great meals.  I caught an excellent YouTube moment of the show but it appears that tech issues may have resulted in the Android's storage card being fried and all of the content including music, photos and videos being lost (shades of similarity with losing my entire photo collection from SE asia in 2005) but at least there's alternative sources for memories, including my brain which is the only real storage medium for memories and it will be a little while before that storage zone is fried, I hope.
After eating we wandered up to the square where we were assaulted with Ramadhan celebrations, whereas it appeared that all of Istanbul had converged in Taksim a few weeks ago, it appeared that all of Turkey had moved to Sultanahmet on Saturday night.  I suppose you could compare it to the easter show but millions of people flocking in for a religious celebration is kind of amazing.  Every age group was there, it seemed very secular with picnics in every spare piece of ground, hundreds of food stalls and nargile zones and music pumping through the crowds.  A bit claustrophobic but very happy, energised and friendly.  It almost felt like turkey was gathering for a goodbye party.

Hagia Sophia

Tick Tick Tick!

Our second to last day and it is a day to cover the bases of Istanbul.  Visit the Hagia Sophia for some culture?  Tick!  Visit the underground cistern for some history?  Tick!  Get back to the bazaar for some poorly negotiated souveneiring?  Tick!
Well, for the most part whatever we've bought, while we may have paid more than we could have we still have paid less than what we might have paid in Australia.  Where was Tilly when all this was happening?  I am going to be very happy to return to a place where the price I see is the price I pay - even after my turns in South East Asia I have never sympathised so much with Brian of Nazareth. 
Perhaps it was the negotiations, perhaps the extended bus trip followed by a late night nargile or maybe its just the fact that we're on the tail end of our journey but I haven't felt so physically wrecked since arriving.  There's lots more to do as there always is but I'm sure some of it can wait.

Saturday, 29 August 2009


From the site of one battle to another.  watched the continually screening Peter Weir movie, Gallipolli, after the visit which seems to be an institution of hostels on the travelling circuit (the Killing Fields runs every night in most hostels in Phnom Penh) and had an early wakeup call to cross the Dardenelles to see the site of the other great siege of the region (praise be that we didn't have to watch the film adaption of that particular battle).  Our guide was a very spiritual aging hippie who was not only very knowledgeable about the history of Troy but also of the various positive and negative energies that pervaded the area.  Personally, I couldn't feel them but perhaps a little meditation may have helped.  There were no fewer than three replica horses in the area, the best of which was the plastic one donated by the makers of the film (pictured).  A rather whirlwind tour of the site as we had to jump on the bus taking us back to the heart of the country if we were to avoid having to cram into the alternative transport, a sardine can masquerading as a vehicle.  Got friendly with a local sydney guy and evangelised my principality to him (he may join us on his return) and after returning to istanbul attempted another try of the ubiquitous nargile with slightly better results than previous goes.  The end is drawing close and Sydney and its issues are crystalising but they are not upon us yet.

He that giveth also taketh away

Despite the warnings from the internet message boards and the local cellphone representatives I was hoping that the my android would not be cut off 10 days after purchasing the local SIM card ... but it did.  for a few days I was reduced to relying on the not infreuent hotspots that litter the country but yesterday, perhaps from a fortuitous configuration of sunspots my connectivity returned.  My phone still claimed to have no service at all yet chats, tweets and emails flooded to me.  I wasn't one to argue with this good fortune but I used what was given to me until this morning, when I turned off the android as we headed to the city of Troy to save power (the battery is the achilles heel of this device, which was rather poetic as Achilles himself was buried just over the hill) and when I turned back on the mysterious connection was gone.  Struggled through various configurations but it was not to be.

Friday, 28 August 2009

Our Mecca?

Wasn't completely certain as to whether we'd be making the Australian (and kiwi) pilgrimage to the Dardenelles but we realised it would be a time before we did return to Turkey and knew it should be done.  A long awaited victory in the principality of Catan preceded an early wakeup call (we've just been started edging towards the semblance of a sleep-in) and we took another journey on one of Turkey's superb buses (??) towards the site of Australia's greatest defeat.  The tour was very long with many stops but once we managed to crack Hasan's challenging accent it was very informative and very emotional.  I've always tried to pride myself on trying to get a balanced view of things and it is only from the Turk's themselves that one can get their side of this story.  From the museum with its contrasting letters to home from the Australian conscript and the Turkish martyr to the site of the landings at Anzac Cove (who could have possibly thought that it was a potential landing site?) to the memorial to the greatest eulogy ever said and the cemeteries scattered all over the point, it truly is a holy place.  And not just for us, we may have gone over as Brits and returned as Australians and New Zealanders but a part of modern Turkey, distinct from the Ottoman Empire was also forged on these battlefields.  I've grown up being taught the larrikin spirit and defiant nature of the diggers at Gallipoli but the memorials show the humour and strength of the thousands of Turks who also fought there and as one Mehmet reminded me, 'they came to invade, we came to defend'.  One of the few great conflicts where such carnage was conducted by such 'gentlemen'.

Wednesday, 26 August 2009

Back to Istan-bull

Taking too much advantage of the bright mediterranean light resulted in two bright red australians (I do have a fondness for red but this was pushing the boundaries) but if history repeats itself I'm hoping that it will fade to brown before our return.  We went back to town via the excellent public transport system where we decided to split so I could swap some books out and try to find the elusive Tütün local tobacco shop (no luck there) and louisa could look for more ways to take up my dwindling baggage allowance (I'm a big believer in having the right bag for the right occasion but there is a limit).  Managed to find enough literature to last me through the rest of the trip, settling on Child of God by Cormac McCarthy (ooooh, very good!  Very good! According to Jamal, the very well read proprietor) and the Poisonwood Bible (also very good!  Very good!) and traded back the baffling Image of the Beast and its sequel which I managed to conclude before we finished we skipped out of town.  despite living out of the 'wife's' pocket for two weeks the amount of usual bickering has been surprisingly low, especially in light of the dramas unfolding half a world away and the only real issue seems to be how much walking one of us has been prepared to do.  Despite a warning that we would not be walking to the beach, the smattering of clothes shops that lined the boulevard enabled me to coax someone out of the comfort zone and out to the commercialised beach zone which was very pretty, if somewhat lacking in sand, surf and many of the other things that I think of when walking along the coast.  But there's only so long that I can cope with a resort lifestyle and we shall soon be heading back to the heart of Turkey, having missed its brain.

Who knows what horrors lie behind the door of room 101

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

Sitting by the pool at a mediterranean resort should be a very relaxing, if somewhat cheesy, way to spend one's time.  Of course it would be if euro disco music weren't blaring non stop.  Not only that but the hotel seems to only have one CD and its on constant replay.  to top it off the phillip jose farmer books I acquired yesterday were less engrosing than expected and have already been finished, who'd have thought that the deviant sexual adventures of intergalactic species posing as werewolves and vampires in a smog choked los angeles would be as exciting as I thought?

Just chill, man

Having underestimated the amount of reading I would have been doing on this trip I've spent a fair amount of time invetigating the few bookstores that happen to sell english language tomes with very limited success.   There was a 2nd hand place in the hostel sector of sultanahmet in istanbul but he seemed to specialise in barbara taylor bradford and the D&R stores were only useful if one was after the twilight series but with the aid of google I managed to locate Owl Books hidden deep in the bowels of the Antalyan bazaar behind Hadrian's Gate.  a very good collection of all english books, with most of them read by the proprietor, a vrry hospitable if somewhat slothful man (he was very much looking forward to the film version of the Amber Spyglass with its living bicycles, the mulefa (at least that's the part I'm looking forward to)) and it seems that I've got enough literature to tide me over to sydney now.
Unfortunately when we decided to relax with a cafe afterwards (we've both hit the wall when it comes to turkish coffee now) I realised that my cigarello fixings had been left behind at one of the shops wed visited and with a fair amount of panic I hightailed it back into the bazaar.  A brief moment where I decided to run was almost instantly stopped by a small kerb where I stubbed my toe for the first time in 20 years.  It hurts.  A lot.  Really, it f**king hurts.  But, the eczane sorted me out and an hour of tracking managed to recover the sweet nicotine from oz (some people can't comprehend the subtle differences in smoking methods and brands).  Unfortunately the turkish cellular network decided that they didn't want my phone on the network (I was warned that this may happen after 10 days) so the google assisted travel is mostly at an end.  If my understanding of louisa is correct there will be no wandering of cityscapes looking for hotspots but I know where they are in the hotel districts so I won't be cut off completely. Still trying to take in the medidative qualities of the mediterranean and ignoring what's happening on the other aide of the world. 

Monday, 24 August 2009

The wheels on the bus

Another 13 hours of rolling through the night in the turkish countryside got us to the mediterranean.   Sleep came in snatches and involved both of us dreaming of earthquakes and explosions.  The bus was half empty which was good as there were a fair few broken seats and we were able to sprawl out a bit although I did wake to find myself sharing with one of the attendants, a bit disconcerting when you're half blind and delirious from broken sleep.  Upon arriving there was a bit of confusion with the issue of transferring to the otel and we were told to wait here then wait there then go over there and after an hour of frustration and multiple phone calls on dwindling credit and battery life we ended up taksi-ing to an average otel with a spectacular view, just the place to shift out thoughts of wayward teenagers and irresponsible exes (although I still cannot believe I'm living in such a cliche ... its like a bad sitcom).  Plunged into the mediterranean for the first time (I did dip a toe in the middle of winter back in '98 but that doesn't count) and worked on a suntan whilst churning through the worst cathedral building historical epic I've ever read.  We decided to bus it into town, checked with the driver to make sure we were on the right one but weren't sure where to get off.  Forty minutes later as we meandered through the outskirts of antalya we finally plucked up the courage to ask whether we'd gone too far (we had).  No matter, the bus was on a loop and our 15 minute ride turned into a (very cheap) 90 minute tour of the city.  Sampled overpriced local fish and tried on fake trainers, avoided the ubiquitous germans (although I've been thinking we might be able to find someone to have a game of settlers with, let THEM feel the wrath of the lady ...)

Sunday, 23 August 2009

The Valley of the Penises

... officially known as the valley of the mushrooms

Johnny, have you ever stayed in a Turkish prison?

Apparently a good place to buy carpets ...

Have YOU ever considered a camel ride?

As was expected slightly less walking on the second day's tour with a visit to what definitely seemed to me to be the valley of the giant penises, a pottery factory where someone was not able to resist the lures of the local ceramics (but as I've always said you can never have enough platters) and, of course, a carpet manufacturers where we were able to resist although I have to admit I was very taken with the undyed carpets that were made with a combination of white, brown and baa baa black sheep wool. Howeverm due to the wonders of international roaming we were slightly disconcerted when we received a call from the parent of one of the ward's friends' parents asking for confirmation that her daughter was going to a sleepover at our house that night.  Brushed it off, thinking it must have been a mistake as she was evidently not in our care.  The second call from another parent aroused our suspicions slightly and we attempted a call back to sydney to get the low down on what was going on.  The third call from sydney was not from another parent but from constable mcgregor from surry hills police station informing us that they'd just had to break up a 250 teenager strong party at our house.  I've never had 250 people turn up to any part that I've held, even the well received 'back to the future' bash only collected a 70 or so (and that included our parents which this one obviously didn't).  Well, I've been assured that chevette, puck, hermaphrodite and the unnamed TT weapon are unharmed and there's really very little to be done from this side of the planet except plan an elaborate punishment and try to see the amusing side of the story.  Trying to negotiate an investigation by phone meant we almost missed the open air museum tour and we had to fight our way through the ticket booths and rush through it but it was mostly churches (all defaced by the greeks according to our tour guide) and id already started to feel a bit templed out but a timely local hamam scraped away the worries of the world (and more than a few layers of skin) and we decided that the australian problems could wait a few more weeks because we're in Turkey.

Saturday, 22 August 2009

Once again, the misleading local pricing (the numbers can refer to either lira, euros, us or australian dollars ... generally whateverls worst for the tourist) meant an overpriced hamam was our last experience of istanbul but was well cleansed for the back breaking, neck creaking, leg twisting overnight bus journey to cappadocia.  Just in case we had any regrets for not shelling out for plane tickets the kindly tour operators indulged the fantasy by ordering mobile phones off because they interfered with the breaking system, provided realistic turbulence and even inflight entertainment that ranged between ultra violent local soccer and a 4hr epic local musical variety show.  Managed to survive and get to the hotel for 15 minutes before being picked up again for some cappadocian tourism.  A bit of walking around the ruins which despite being up to 3000 years old were either still in use or had only been vacated in the last 30 years and unlike any western tour with all those pesky rules to limit liability we were allowed to risk our necks by climbing right up into the tunnels and caves ... its like no other place I've ever seen, an entire city literally carved out of the volcanic rock. 
Returning to the virtually deserted hotel we decided to eat in ... no menu, just a very nice home cooked (but evidently authentic turkish) meal prepared by the one staff member there.  Felt a bit bad as he'd been fasting all day for the first day of ramadhan while he was cooking our meal but as soon as the sun dropped the city wide speakers blared out the prayers signifying that he, the city (and all of the other observant muslims in this timezone for that matter) could break out the pides and beer (so maybe they weren't that observant after all).

Friday, 21 August 2009

Four beautiful ladies

Three beautiful ladies

The sisters of the 3 sisters?

View from thre star 'otel

Regards Sax
sent from my gPhone

Traveller or tourist?

I'm evidently one of the tourists the author is bemoaning here, crying out for the good old days when he was the only foreigner brave enough to visit those countries that gave him an authentic experience.   Is it a pity that travel has become cheap enough for it to be experienced by nearly all of us?  Does he want all the 3rd world countries to resist adopting modern technology so that he can enjoy the old world?  I for one think travelling has been enhanced immeasurably by being able to remain connected, I can always choose to ignore the things from home that would worry me.  Having to share my travels with busloads of compatriots and other nationalities is simply a fact of life in this era of cheap flights and porous borders.   And I still bitch about the bedbugs.

Thursday, 20 August 2009

Ticked off another box by visiting the islamic museum of science and technology, not a bad place to visit although the fact that the entire collection consists of stuff from between 1000 and 1500 (thereabouts) does say a bit about the stagnation the culture's progress.  Lots of astrolabes, mathematical equations and the physics section is something that will certainly be amazing when its finished (dozens of working models of engineering marvels that unfortunately don't work just yet).  There were a bunch of models that were obviously meant to be hands on (everything else was covered in glass) but when I tried to set the perpetual motion machine into perpetual motion a surly guard told me to stay away.  I've already decided that I don't want to get on the midnight express so I readily complied.  Thinking it might be nice to get away from the heavily spruiked bazaars we tried a few of the gigantic malls on the urbanised side of town and they were just as soulless as anything in the west.  The keens ripoffs sourced in dubai have proved to be exceptionally painful to the feet (my dogs are barking!) and both of us were suitably wrecked upon our return.  There's a second hand buy/sell/swap bookstore a few blocks away from where we're staying, I checked it out a few days ago and made a second determined attempt this afternoon - I just finished rereading Dune (after watching the two major adaptations in relatively quick succession) which is a superb book in any event (although I recall the sequels being less so) but perfectly suited for reading over here with the desert fremen and arrakis drawing heavily from islamic culture but was I able to find dune messiah anywhere? Not even close.  The bookstore is full of english books but the collection seems to consist of nothing but the absolute worst of airport fiction and more barbara taylor bradford's than you'd see at 2am on channel 9.  I had to whip my companion like a MBA certified 1 minute manager to finish the 'cathedral @ the sea' so i'd have something to tide me over until I can find another bookstore but its not looking hopeful (I forgot how reliant my travels have been on the MS Reader app in the trusty iPAQ).  My negotiating skills got a workout in the evening, whilst I wasn't able to negotiate myself out of the leather store I did manage to scrape some sheckels off the price which I'm hoping I won't regret.

Wednesday, 19 August 2009

My fountain is bigger than your fountain

The only time I've ever seen a scene like this was when I was in amsterdam (and truth be told that memory is a little fuzzy although I can't for the life of me understand why).  Istanbul has about 20 million people or so I've heard and I think all of them were strolling down iskatel st with us.  A nice alternative to the old city where we've spent most of our time, lots of shops and restaurants.  The street that Time Out assured us was where the locals ate was, shockingly, full of turistas like us and was as overpriced and spruiked as anywhere else we've been but I've long since given up on the idea that my type of tourism is any better than the masses.  We did manage to see a little bit of culture by visiting the left breast of istanbul's cleavage and tried a new epicurean delight of chocolate soaked baclava, trawled down the bosphorus and found a slightly less intimidating area of the markets (these ones sold guns and tobacco amongst other things).  Recovery took the form of the settlers of catan card game, we'd tried to play previously in marathon 4 hour session (hell, I've done marathons that were shorter than that) that ended when someone made an illegal play, backtracked, forgot where she was and then conceded (????).  This time the lady claimed her principality proper and the noble laird once again learned his place.

Monday, 17 August 2009

The Travellers of Catan

Someone couldn't work out the air conditioner at 3 in the morning and decided that opening the balcony door was the best way to provide solace not realising that outside was 30 degrees and the we were in the cleavage of istanbul, prime location for hearing 5am morning prayers being blasted into the ears of anyone sans earplugs.  Another day of market trawling and I was getting a little tired of revealing my australian nationality and getting gdays and anecdotes about kangaroos and poisonous snakes and spiders so we revealed ourselves as residents of the fair isle of catan (we kept our titles as laird and lady to ourselves).  It backfired a bit when the shop owners started interrogating us about the details but at least I could give some detail of our principality's resources, rich in ore, wood, brick, sheep and grain.  It also helped that he'd discovered a place he'd never heard of only the week before (the isle of man).  I managed to resist the hard sell although I am very tempted to return for a red leather jacket (I'm partial to red) which is more than I can say for the wife who is quite partial to spending.  A shrewd negotiator she may be, I wish we had tilly here to bargain on our behalf. 
And also after much gnashing of teeth the rather superb customer service of vodafone turkey got me up and running with data (oh precious data, I am truly addicted) which means I will be leaving behind the twee advice of lonely planet and becoming a traveller powered by google ...

Mosque bleu

Seat 12a!

It was with a resigned pessimism that I requested a bulk head seat when we checked in @ 6 in the morning for TK1165.   Of course they were all taken and there wasn't even an aisle for one leg to sprawl into but at least row 12 was close to the front.  I wasn't really disappointed because I've long given up on getting leg room while flying so imagine my amazement to find that there is no seat in front of seat 12a (neither 12f for that matter) and I could literally sprawl.  Its events like this that make flying tolerable.  And now that we're out of the sauna that is dubai and in a place that has the weather you want on a holiday.  Hoped to work out some data issues but have not found myself truly mobile yet although I've been assured its possible.
First thins first when arriving in turkey after a shrewdly negotiated bus ride into istanbul and that is obviously having a muddy turkish cafe, which I love although ill bet ill be gasping for a nescafe before this trip is done.  Its a great wandering place at first impression, if nothing else the humidity is within human tolerance levels and the spruikers are no worse than any other tourist infested city.   I'm sure if I wanted a rug, platter or water pipe i'd have no issues finding one,  right now I'm negotiating how much my 22 spare kilos of baggage space is worth to my ladyfriend. Its got to be able to be translated into something of value, no?

Sunday, 16 August 2009

Can your iphone do this?

Regards Sax
sent from my gPhone

By law or bylaw?

These signs are scattered all over dubai yet many of the restaurants and lobbies not only have people flagrantly disobeying but they also have ashtrays actively subverting the message.  Smoking is a disgusting habit, I know, but the middle east is one of the last bastions where a smoker is not a pariah.  Its changing, sure, but, like mad men, at least its giving us memories of a different time.

Its not the heat, its the humidity.  This place seems to take that statement to the next level.  Every time i ve stepped outside it feels like I'm being hit with a sleedgehammer of heat but every time we go back inside the air conditioning chills to the bone and I find myaelf hopping back and forth trying to equalise my core.
the city seems to be a theme park for adults. This is what you get with most unlimited money and no oversight to drag back the excessive imagination of the architects.  Fake islands, huge buildings, cheap cars and cheap petrol to fuel them.  And according to our tour guide there's no crime, no pollution, no drugs.  Well, no worries then!  Its hard to accept that taxis are just about the only transport available to us tourists..  they're not that expensive but it certainly adds up and whilst everything is somewhat subsidised by the royal family's vast wealth on th whole things are a lot cheaper than they could be and we're not even residents or ...citizens. 
The social mores are interesting, I'm paranoid about offending the morality police who I've been told lurk around every corner but I haven't managed to offend anyone other than my travelling partner and I rarely go a day without doing that anyway.  As part of the jetlag push our local friend, the second of the nightmare of ravens I've known, took us out to an authentic arabic restaurant (id be very surprised to find an inauthentic one in the UAE) followed by an expat filled beer barn celebrating all that is obnoxious about the international subculture.  A lot more enjoyable than I ever thought it would be.  Well, I think it cured the jetlag anyway although it can always come back to bite you.  A bit more sensible on the second day, heat hadn't alleviated at all but at least we saw some things we came to see ...

Early impressions

Long haul plane journeys are trying at the best of times and once again I was denied the exit row but I still managed to get a smattering of restive sleeps only broken by stewardesses and passengers crashing into my left leg that sprawled into the aisle. A little bit of dreamy hallucination interjected with the worst of hollywood from the in flight entertainment absorbed the 14 hours quite nicely.  Attempted to push through the jetlag by wandering the dead streets of deira.  Perhaps its the hotel's locale, maybe Friday morning is not the best time to see anything in the middle east but my first impressions are that of a ghost town more populated by indians than arabs.  Its only been a few hours thus far and am certain that there will be more to come.

Thursday, 13 August 2009

So is he

She's about to leave on a jetplane

With thumbs

Blogging with your thumbs seems like an enormously painful method, I have to say thawt I have extremely fond memories of my ipaq 4150 with infrared keyboard which is still the most effective ultra portable I've ever owned.  I expect grammar and punctuation to plummet and content will have extreme brevity but potentially will be richer. 

The Tralevlogue Starts Again

Since settlement I've been learning the arts of painting a house from a wise artisan.  My standards will never be as high as his but they're worthy aspirations.  But for now, the painting will have to wait as the lurching progress of the professional renovators dig in and I will be heading to the middle east, first in the hub that is UAE and then not to the place that divides the West and Islam but where Islam and the West come together.  I think this could be a good opportunity for a travelogue (and potentially one more live than ever if I can get a SIM card that works over there) ...

Wednesday, 5 August 2009

Am I A Mad Man?

The first bike I owned was a Malvern Star.  The last bike I owned was a Malvern Star. 
A legend is the human actions that have taken place in history that defy ...
An Australian bike the equal of any in the world.  An Australian cyclist the equal of any.
The best cyclist in the world , a bike the equal of any.  Australian
Oppy was a rider the equal of any in the world, Malvern Star Oppy is a bike the equal of any.
It is said that legends are born and not made.  This legend is made.
Some legends are born.  Some legends are made.