You Can't Fight City Hall

24 October - This morning I decided to buy breakfast - i'd bought some cereal as soon as I got here and whilst iit was okay it was loaded with sugar - i've got nothing against that but it was just too sweet for me and i'd not got around to buying any decent alternative. There was a cheap diner up the road that was reasonably nice although the eggs, like all the eggs i've had in this country this far were a very pale yellow - they tasted okay, a bit watery maybe, but not the deep orange that I normallyhave a hankering for. Upon my return to the hostel I was confronted by David, the fat weird guy who works here who started telling me about the 32 dollars he made from an online trade and then gave me a long winded rundown of everything he knew about the forks and the spikes and the trends, every sentence ended with an 'aye'. Talk about your stereotypes (Later Note: can't remember how I got away from him but I think i'd better learn a strategy because he did the same thing again when I returned to the hostel in the afternoon). Also, got a phone call this morning from a guy from Novex, one of the courier companies in Vancouver, we had a little bit of a chat and he asked me to come in for an interview tomorrow. With the prospects of potential employment I thought i'd better start getting some of the paperwork sorted out. After a few phone calls and some internet searching I found that in order to get an courier licence I needed to go for an exam (which I was aware of) but I also needed photo ID with my Vancouver address on it. Considering I’d just found a Vancouver address the day before that wasn't going to be easy but I went down to the driver's licence place address that I was given over the phone only to find it didn't exist - eventually found it a couple of blocks away. 40m wait to see someone but it went pretty smoothly (for $35 you'd expect it to) but I was told it would be about 3 weeks before it was delivered to my new address (nobody asked me for proof of address funnily enough) - I needed the ID for Wednesday when I do the exam ... I'm hoping I can work around this with my Oz licence and passport and a copy of the BC ID confirmation slip but after speaking to the girl earlier in the day I don't think it's likely (hoping the courier company chooses to be a bit more lenient - but knowing what paragons of virtue those couriers ar with their legendary respect of the road rules and the law it's not looking promising). Also went for my SIN (social ID number I think), which was surprisingly quick although I was told it would take 5 weeks before it was delivered unless I could get a letter from an employer stating they needed it urgently - what's wrong with me standing there SAYING I need it urgently??? Whilst at the Human Resources Centre I met a couple of Australians from Orange - a bit ocker but very nice - they're about to head up to whistler to serve as menial labour for the tourist industry - we said we'd stay in touch ...
The three Aussies also sent me in the right direction for setting up a bank account with Royal Bank of Canada - had to make an appointment and come back but when I did the girl was very nice and very talkative but we got through it pretty quickly. They don't seem to charge as much as Australian banks ... But then again, I don't think any country does.
I forgot how much crap one needs to go through to set one's self up in a new country. I think i've gone through most of the bureaucracy i've had to go through although this licence thing could be a bit of a bugbear (and not one of the cute ones from D&D either).

Students International

24 October - After finding my residence yesterday (and feeling quite pleased with myself about it) I did a few errands and then reluctantly went back to the hostel to tell them I’d be staying another week. It really isn't so bad but the room is quite tiny and due to the positioning of the power point and the fridge it means that I can't open it when it's plugged in or if I have anything else plugged in. The powerpoint is also falling apart from people have taking the plug in and out every time they want to open it up. I should be moving to a new room anyway - which will probably be worse than this one.
Whilst I was making myself some toast in the kitchen I met a young Bahaman (not Bohemian but someone from the Bahamas) who was very friendly ... almost TOO friendly. Later on I met him with a couple of his friends and they were also all very friendly too. We had a bit of a chat and it turned out they were all from a college down in Victoria and were up here doing a project on interfaith studies, I immediately thought, OF COURSE, they want to convert me to whatever it is they're doing! This never happened but I said that we'd go for a drink sometime. They invited me up to their room later on and there were six of them - all very young and all very international, there was Geraldo the Bahamian, (the other names I can't remember) a Spaniard, a Guatemalan (from Central America, because South America doesn't exist according to him), a Swiss, and two Canadian girls (one was a Vegan from Ontario and from Saskcatchawan) - we were chattingaway and they were very nice but there was something strange I couldn't put my finger on. They were all a bit political and very earnest - they asked how old I was and seemed surprised (i think they were flattering me) and then I asked how old they were and the answers ... 17, 17, 17, 17, 17 and 17 (which kind of explained everything to me). They were all at an international school and I think they must have been pretty gifted (although they weren't all acting like it last night) because they were alluding that they'd all be doing pretty special things afterwards although none of them semed to be takingtheir interfaith project too seriously. Very interestingmeeting though - and they're here for the next week along with me. One of them wants to buy me them some booze though, my ethics are not really strained by the action but I can just see myself doing it and then seeing him rushed to hospital with alcoholic poisoning after drinking a can of light beer and me beingsent to jail for 9 months .... Dilemmas, dilemmas ...

Homeless No More

23 October - Went out last night but did not really enjoy myself very much - had a drink at a sports bar and then went to the Cambie, which is like a traveller's drinking hole. The bouncer kept me at the door even though there was noone else there before letting me in - full of drunken yahoos (both foreign and domestic) - perhaps if i'd started drinking when they did them I wouldn't feel the contempt that I did or maybe i'm just getting old. In any event, got a bit tired a bit quickly and opted out. On my return I was cornered by the guy who works at the hostel who wanted advice on how to use his Pocket PC, he's kind of strange but friendly enough (he's not a handsome man with his shirt off though - that thought alone kept me from sleeping). Made a skype call or two before crashing out and sleeping in (until 8am, hurrah!) - and had my cereal (the weirdo guy who grunts at me wasn't in the kitchen when I ate - thank God) and checked some online ads for shar accommodation.
Went out for a coffee before I left and had a bit of a chat with Drew, an older hippie who's been staying at the hostel for a few days - very nice, he's a writer of some kind and is working on projects to keep retirees from retiring by reskilling them - very noble effort and an incredibly interesting person, I think he was a bit of an activist when he was younger - pity he's leaving today.
Went for my first proper ride on the bicycle today out to East 54th avenue for an open house inspection (which means 53 blocks south of 1st avenue) which was mostly uphill, it was also quite far East from where I was so it took quite some time - I was in the general vicinity when I realised I was getting a bit lost in a bunch of golf coures and horse riding camps - I looked at my note and realised that I was supposed to be at 29th avenue instead! In any event, I was approaching an appointment with another place so I high-tailed it back there. The next place was kind of dingy but had pretty much all facilities and the landlord was a very nice Russian guy (we had a chat about where Russia was going today - he thinks Russia is not very safe now and he's ashamed of it (???)) - he also said he might be able to give me a job (he's in telcos) if the bike thing doesn't work out, could be interesting. In any event went down to another appointment for a share house on East First Avenue (so easy to navigate in this city, it's fantastic - bit hilly though) and found the place where i'm going to move into. Big room in a beautiful old house with a large backyard, all facilities including wifi and house computer, TV and stuff, even a cleaner and it seems like a pretty good area - and the price was less than some of the awful places. There will be six people living there - but I think that could be a good thing at first (helps to expand my very small network at this stage of my trip). The landlord seemed nice enough - I was the first to see the flat (he put the ad in that morning) so I gave him the deposit and I move in next week. It does mean I have to stay at the hostel another week but it's not so bad and I can relax a bit and see what Vancouver has to offer now that i'm not traipsing all over looking for a place to live (although the job search will have to start now unfortunately).
For anyone who wants to send me a postcard (i don't know why anyone would because they're not going to get a reply from me) or some Vegemite, the address for the house is:
1949 East First Avenue
Vancouver BC V5N 1B3
Canadia

On ya bike!

22 October - Dropped off about 930pm last night - presume it's the jetlag - one minute I was reading a book, next thing I woke up at 3 in the morning. It seems this time travel doesn't really agree with me.
Went for a very long walk in order to find a coffee in the morning - had to pass three Starbucks before I found a place that didn't serve filtered tar. However, when I did find one it was very agreeable and the man who served it to me was very nice (shopkeepers can be very friendly in this town). Made a few phone calls for some ads for share houses and this time I bought a day pass so that I wouldn't kill myself traversing the town looking at them. Saw about four in the day - one quite nice and the rest not so nice - one was miles away over the river and was also unfurnished so that was out. The last one I looked at was quite funny - I knocked on the door and asked to speak to Graeme, he wasn't home - I told the guy who answered the door why I was there and he said with great urgency, 'Don't move in here! It's a hole! That's why i'm moving out!' - unfortunately he was right ... Will check out a couple more tomorrow and in the week but if I don't find anything I might go with one I saw today (if still available).
My feet are still quite painful from yesterday - despite not walking around too much today, once I get some more permanent lodgings I want to start running again - haven't done any since the failed marathon but have to get back on the bike (or not get on the bike as the case may be).
On the subject of bikes though, I went to one last bike store today, Simon's Bike Store - i'd already decided on on the Trek MTB that I saw the previous day - but after going to SBS I changed my mind and bought a very cool Specialised mountain bike and got it a little bit customised. Very happy with the purchase as it came in below my budget and they even had a sale on shoeses and I bought a $220 pair of Shimano boots for only $50. It's a very nice looking bike so i'm probably going to have to put some scratches on it to make it a little bit less stealable (knowing the way I ride, shouldn't be a problem). The guy who sold me the bike, Simon, was extremely exciteable ... "Fifty bucks! That's nothing man!"; "You're gonna go so fast! Those wheels are so thin man!", Everything he said seemed to need an exclamation mark on the end.
All in all, Vancouver seems quite nice - I really don't like some of the people in the hostel though, thank God I have a private room ... Hopefully I won't pass out too early today - it's a Saturday and I want to see if I can cope with what nightlife this place has to offer ...

Always Read The Map Scale

21 October - Am back in my flat and my footses and legses are in horrible shape. I walked all over Vancouver today and I retraced my steps quite a few times too. I'd made a few appointments to check out some share houses today and I though it would be relatively easy to walk it. I'd already been told that trips I'd already taken were 'bus distances' but I found them to be easily walkable. The jetlag woke me up pretty early (5ish) but the first appointment was at 11 so I did some preliminary job searching. Walked a very long way to the first appointment and was early and there was nobody home. Toddled off and had an awful coffee from a very nice man who had a stuffed lion in his café (he gave me the history, the lion died of old age in the zoo) and returned to the house to find nobody home. And this was the one flat that I didn’t have a phone number for. What was worse was that I had another appointment at a house across the road from this one at 5pm (thought i'd kill two birds but nobody was home at that one). Went to about a dozen bike shops to try to find the best one - there were some very nice ones that were way too expensive and some awful ones that were also way too expensive but on the whole the guys who run bike shops in Vancouver are infinitely more helpful and friendly than the ones in Sydney or London. Think i've decided on where i'm going to get it from now - a nice Trek MTB with disc brakes that slides in just under my budget.
Wandering from shop to shop brutalised my feet - eventually I took advantage of public transport (which is quite good f you know where you're going, which I don't) to get me to one of the share houses. Both of the places I saw today were quite similar - house with four or five travellers or students or escaped convicts (in both of them I would be replacing a Korean student [probably from South Korea]) and they all had shared washroom (they don't like to say toilet or even bathroom over here it seems), kitchen, some storage, cable TV and, quite conveniently, wi-fi internet. The one that was further away (still close to the SkyTrain) was in a crappy basement flat underneath a very, very nice house (the landlady shooed me away from the front door when I arrived, I think she didn't want the neighbour to see me) and the other was in a niceish house but isn't available until the 15th unless I want to take a room slightly bigger than a small single bed.
In any event, i've just got to learn that when something two things are a couple of centimetres away from each other in the map this can translate to 10km in the real world, next time i'm going to read the scale.
One slightly nice thing was that I found a place called 'Cob Bakery' (which must be part of the bakers delight chain) which sells cheesymite scrolls, haven't had one for three months and it was ... pretty good for a Canadian bakery. Also had an opportunity to show off my prodigious strength by helping some Japanese students take their relatively light bags up the stairs in the hostel.
One thing that i've noticed here which is absolutely infuriating and will be eradicated in the Utopia I eventually create is the GST and PST (i don't know what PST stands for yet). All prices are advertised without and usuallyend with .99 and when you pay you it goes up 7 or 14% and i'm getting heaps of crappy pennies filling up my pockets. Very annoying. Nobody could ever convince me that pushingthe cost onto the consumer was the right way to go - when you see a price, that is the price you should pay - no arguments. If the government wants to put a tax on something it should be invisible to the consumer - i'll be here for another 9 months and I don't think i'm ever going to get used to that one.

It's cold out there

21 October - Settled into the Grand Trunk Hostel, my hopefully short term accommodation in Vancouver. It's okay - although the people i've met in the hostel thus far are either Asian students who don't seem to speak any English or rather strange locals or Australians - not the most friendly bunch of people unfortunately. I'm sure there are lots of nice people out there - my first impression of Canadians was excellent but you always get a fair percentage of whack-jobs in hostels in my experience. I wish I was still staying with James, that would mean that the whack-job was a friend of mine. There's free internet here but only one computer which is in high demand (only available during day time as well) but there's also free wi-fi in the hostel so my PDA can do some limited substitution. Went for a wander last night and had a very expensive beer before coming back to the waterfront near where I lived where I saw a bunch of people being forcibly removed from one pub then accidentally found myself in a very dodgy area (all of the drug dealers hang around a couple of streets away) so I returned home. There are heaps of homeless people around the hostel, which isn't so bad but the begging is reminescent of SE Asia, there are so many of them approaching me. Also, at night time and in the morning it has proved itself to be freezing cold - will probably go look for some proper clothes today. Main plan today is to go visit some share houses for more permanent digs and then ... job hunting.

Canadia At Last

20 September - Arrived at the airport and got through customs and immigration without too much trouble (have to say that the immigration officials were complete arseholes - not to me, but they were incredibly rude to some Asian and Arab families - not quite sure what to make of that). Got a bus into downton and met an Australian on the way - from Perth, very Australian but quite nice - good to make any contacts I can at this point in the trip. He got off before I did but I found the hostel quite directly. So far my experience of Canadians (apart from immigration) has been superb - they're all super friendly and very helpful, i'm sure there are a fair amount of arseholes amongst them but thus far i've been lucky. Also, despite warnings the weather today has been great and the streets are really easy to navigate. It's not very exotic but it's very clean and very pretty - we'll see if it deserves The Economist's accolade of most liveable city in the world. Turns out i'd booked the hostel for tomorrow night (i made the booking at midnight last and got the dates confused) but there was no issue. Pretty crappy room but it has electricity, a bed, a fridge and even a TV (and an awful painting on the wall and an unidentifiable smell but they should both fade into the background reasonably quickly I hope).
Lots of homeless around here unfortunately, all have got bizarre accents - iafter reading 'Call Of The Wild' (which everybody should do) I have made the presumption that they are Newfoundland accents - will seek confirmation in the coming days.
Ran out to the shops to organise a few things - got a SIM card for my phone (the majority of the phones in North America are CDMA but there is a GSM network as well), unfortunately prices are rather exhorbitant AND you have to pay to receive calls as well as make them so i'll have to watch myself on that one (looks like Skype will become even more valuable over here). In any event the number is 7782394827 but if anyone is pining to hear my voice they better keep it quick.
Also whilst out I tried a Tim Hortons coffee and doughnut - the virtues of this brew were extolled to me by Patrick Collins (not the one we know and love unless you also know and love his Canadian cousin as well) but I have to agree with Matthew Gray's assessment, which is, almost as good as McDonalds coffee (the doughnut wasn't great either) - but, it's an institution over here so who am I to judge (did read a bizarre article about the decline of tea in Britain in the Wall Street Journal on the plane where the journalist seemed to think that decent coffee was invented in America by Starbucks ... how deprived these great nations are).
But, looks like i've scored a few goals since i've got here - tomorrow i'll start the search for a more permanent residence and then ... I really don't want to think about it, but ... I'll start looking for a job.

Chasing The Sun

20 September - Despite delays due to foggy German weather (what are the German's up to this time?) I made it to Frankfurt and my connecting flight (which was, of course, also delayed). Luckily for Lufthansa I got my window seat although i've got a really crappy view of the television (to paraphrase John Leguizamo's immortal quip, 'I hope there's NOT a good movie on this flight!') and I've got a rather enormous European lady sitting next to me - doesn't Lufthansa have rules about people like this? I thought they were supposed to buy two tickets! (apologies to any morbidly obese people reading this missive). Whilst i've been sitting here waiting to take off (another delay caused by one of the passengers not turning up and they have to remove his luggage) my big hearted (well, big bodied anyway) neighbour has relocated to another seat leaving me enough air to breath and another vantage point for the TV ... Hurrah. Oh, and another 20 fucking minute delay caused by those pesky Germans with their evil bad weather creating machines. I find it quite amusing when i'm on a plane and the takeoff has been delayed - I don't really know why anyone would get stressed. There's no discernible difference between being on a plane that's airborne or on the ground, it's almost preferable because it's quieter - the total time doesn't really change either as they just go faster when they're in the air in order to make the original arrival time. I suppose one thing is that if you're in 'conomy you don't get any booze until you're airborne. Have also just looked up the inflight magazine and have discovered that the fillums we will be watching are 'Herbie: Fully Loaded' and 'Bewitched' ... Damn those Germans, damn them all to hell!!!
Finally got underway and we are chasing the sun as we go backwards in time - I can see the wrinkles fading and my grey hair is turning brown again - it's amazing ... saw some icebergs whilst we were up in the air (a Canadian guy told me it was near Hudsons Bay - when we looked at a map it showed it was somewhere in between Canadia and Greenland) - I think we were flying at 10km altitude and they were so big I felt I could reach out and grab one. I tried to mentally work out how big they were - 10k up, about 20-30cm wide at the window ... then I realised that it was far too much trouble and went to sleep. Also crossed over some mountains on the east coast that were poking above a sea of clouds - very, very beautiful but it also looked very, very ... cold. Great flight over the land - it became quite clear and I had a great view of the Rockies and other mountain ranges and vast tracts of land. A local guy in the seat in front of me gave me a great running commentary on what was what, spectacular scenery - cannot wait to get up close.
Oh, and I'm here.

On hair

Black people have really cool haircuts
... One thing that's really stuck out that i've noticed whilst living in London generally, but especially Camberwell, is the incredible range of very impressive haircuts that the local black population sport. Lots of girls and boys with corn rows, mini-dreds, tight braids, dead straight hair and every colour of the rainbow. I have to say I feel very inadequate and whilst I believe it is a very rare thing for a white man to look good with dredlocks I think I may have to experiment with sporting a new look (not dredlocks but maybe something else that will offend my parents).

Fare Thee Well London Town

20 September - Slept in on my last day (again, won't be able to do that when i'm gainfully employed unfortunately) and did a few errands around the house before going for a local wander. Couldn't really think of anything to do - didn't want to do any touristy things and everyone I knew in town was either away or working - did go and say a final farewell to James in the early evening at the salubrious Trading House - he showed me the new drinks menu which was very impressive although I wasn't very happy about the use of a the way too Bondi and seriffy Times New Roman font (i suggested the more manly Verdana), I also found a wee mistake which will have to wait until the next print run to fix. Does look like an impressive drinks menu though. Headed back to the flat and head dinner with Stefan and Walber ending it with Amaretto and expensive chocolatets (i really don't like Amaretto, it reminded me of the one unpleasant thing about staying with Irina in Slovakia - she has a penchant for rather awful apeterifs). It was very nice staying at Red Square, although it was a bit edgy i'm quite sure it will be a little bit nicer than the budget hotel i've booked in Vancouver for my arrival.
I booked a taxi for 615 and set my alarm for 545 so I wasn't in the st mood after waking up. The taxi came early and I had to run out of the house to get it but had said goodbye to my gracious hosts the previous nights. The tube was direct and it was working this time (unlike the Amsterdam's epic journey) but I did end up meeting a young Indian man going home. We had a bit of a chat and he sat next to me on the tube, which was great, company is good, but he did invade my personal space quite a bit (the arm rest is supposed to represent the limit of how far you're allowed to encroach, sir!) - computer problems and weather problems plagued my eventual arrival in my seat but i'm now sitting on my flight somewhere between London and Frankfurt so i'm certainly on the way.
Did a bit of celebrity spotting as well - Jamie Oliver, the pucker TV chef and social revolutionary is on my plane (travelling economy in solidarity with the rest of us plebs) - despite the revulsion that many of the English i've met have expressed for his annoying TV style I have to say that I think he is amazing. Successful TV chef's abound but none of the others perform the social activism to the extent that he does - the setting up of the restaurant to assist disadvantaged children was a minor step but he's started a revolution in England with trying to fix the nutrition problems that are endemic in England, especially amongst children. Now, hopefully he'll be sufficiently horrified by the micro sammiches being served by Lufthansa to fix the nutrition problems on the planes (actually, i'm only kidding, I love airplane food) ...

Rockin' Night

19 September - Tis my last day on the small island and I ended up wasting a fair portion of it by oversleeping. After we ate an authentic London curry (which, if you ask me, was that that much better than one you'd get in Australia - even the Chopes had to concede this) me and Ade headed out to a local pub to suck down a few beers and then went off to see Nick's band, Ugly, rehearse at a local recording/practice studio (i think that's what it was). Excellent atmosphere - a tiny room full of cigarette and marijuana smoke, cans of Stella littering floor and blokes belting out incredibly loud hard music. it did make me feel a bit wistful for never having learned how to play an instrument or sing a song but it was a lot of fun. They will be playing their first gig in a few weeks and were just ironing out the bugs but if you ask me it was an excellent sound. They're probably not going to be heard on a radio in Australia for quite some time but that's Australia's loss.
It was raining pretty heavily when we left so Nick gave me a lift back to Red Square where I regaled my hosts with a vivid description of all I had seen and then I had a play with my PDA to see if I could fix the email thing (might have been fixed, not sure yet).
Have a few errands to do today but planning on keeping it quiet to ensure nothing gets missed (especially my flight tomorrow morning) - Canadia here I come, aye.

Grand Surroundings

18 September - Took us ages to get back to London this afternoon - the weather had delayed our trip somewhat and there were substantial queues at Heathrow once we arrived but after a severe grilling by the immigration official (very concerned about my ability to support myself ... as am I, I suppose) we were back on English soil. We got back to Primrose Hill as quickly as possible where James got his shit together for work and we had a wee sample of an extra souvenir that had somehow made it through the web of security that is London customs (note to James, just because you take a spliff from Amsterdam to London doesn't make you a suave international drug smuggler) before heading out to Clerkenwell so James could get to work. I wandered around a bit before heading back to PH to move my stuff out to Islington, where I would be staying with Walber (Brazilian from Chang Mai).
An absolutely beautiful apartment in a secured block in Islington - full of expensive furniture and objects d'art and it was very, very tidy. Walber was quite relaxed but I always get concerned when staying in places that are more like design showrooms than places of residence, I feel that I have to make sure that when I drop my bag down it is symetrically aligned with the rug, clothes can't be just dumped on the floor and I can't do my usual habit of setting up a campfire in the bedroom for warmth ... but when in Rome ... His partner, Stefan, whose existence I was seriously beginning to doubt (i'd visited the place three times and he was never there), arrived at about 11 and we had a nice dinner - he's French but has lived in London for the past 10 years, they're both very nice, and this would have to be the most elegant surroundings i've stayed in since I started travelling (maybe not as homely as Chez Cucvarova in Slovakia but i'm not going to complain). Good way to finish off England before I move back into the horrors of travel accommodation when I head off to Canadia later in the week. I was still feeling quite wrecked from the weekend's exertions so I crashed out a little bit earlier than usual and then slept in - was woken up by workman painting the ceiling of the main room (??) but I didn’t have any serious plans for the day. Did another sesh of Bikram Yoga and sweated out most of the toxins that my body had accumulatetd from the Dam and then did a bit more exploring of the area (I'd read that Highbury-Islington had a free muni-wi-fi experiment across the whol area - found it but it didn't work unfortunately) then headed over to Turnpike Lane (just one stop further than my travelpass allowed) where Ade's sister, helen, lives. The plan, at this moment, is to eat a 'proper' English curry then head off to the pub few beers before we go see Nick's (Helen's husband) band rehearse ... Sounds like a plan to me.
Having issues with the email on my PDA, which is giving me no end of bother ... I can send them but I can't receive them so i'm trying to juggle responses to emails that I read online and hope that I align the subjects otherwise they get muddled up and one of the principle benefits of using gmail (the conversation) is lost ... Am sure i'll sort it out sooner or later though.

The Smoky Fun House

17 october - Got woken up by the sunlight and felt rather good despite the previous night because we'd had a mostly full nights sleep. Checked out of the hostel and proceeded to try to get in touch with Marcel - it took us until the afternoon because he wasn't answering his phone and we were stuck to calling in Internet cafes because we didn't have a number we could be contacted on.
We weren't going to meet with him until late afternoon so we decided to go for a bit more of an exploration of Amsterdam. First stop was the print media museum near the Dam - enormous blown up photographs taken from newspapers and magazines around the world as well as a fair collection of arty gritty portraits of wasted musicians (even Cliff Richards to our profound shock). Next we headed down to the Heineken brewery for the self-guided tour - on the way we were interrupted by the Amsterdam Marathon, which was being run that day - the runners we were passing for the most part looked like they'd been going for quite some time and I had a bit of sympathy for them but it was too depressing to hang around watching and the brewery was calling us.
It was pretty tacky, with a glamorised history of the shadowy corporation hidden behind the supposed passion of one man's desire to spread the joy of drinking his beer and a how-it-works display. There was a lot of space devoted to the commercials and some very unimpressive video rides where we learned what it was like to be a bottle on the assembly line (we had to BE the bottle) and a simulation of riding on a horse cart. At the end we were given a few free beers which could have turned out to be quite a few free beers (in the fifteen minutes we were at the bar we were offered several more but we had a schedule to keep).
We did do a bit of sampling throughout the day but we were taking it in our stride this time - and we didn't spend nearly as much time wanderingin circles, our map and the city seemed to correspond this time.
It took us quite a while to get back to Centrum to pick up our bags and then take the tram down to Marcel's small but functional flat.
Sander and Marcel and a couple of other people where there and there was much rejoicing. We had a few drinks and then ate a traditional Dutch meal of sausage and smashed vegetable and potato dish that was very, very filling.
Marcel, Sander, James and I then headed back in to town for a tour of the Sunday nightlife - quite a bit more booze and we were a little liberal on the other delights of Dutch intoxication - we'd wandered around the red light district the night before but even thoughit was a sunday the whole city seemed to be alive (and off its face). We did have a few drinks at a karaoke bar but we hadn't emboldened ourselves enough at that point so we had to be content with laughing at the combination of failed jazz singers, drunken businessmen and deluded-in-love duet-singing couples who were all very amusing.
Due to some of the medicinal qualities of the products we were ingesting we found ourselves constantly stopping off to buy food - and most of it was incredibly unhealthy - at the end of the night my stomach felt scarily stretched I was at a loss to think how it could all be digested. Considering our earlyish flight time and the Dutch's workingthe next day it was a very late night.
After we got up the next day and were steeled by some palatable coffee (on the whole the coffee in this country is, to me, pretty awful - quite strange considering that coffee shops are what it is famous far) before we headed down Marcel's very steep stairs and made our way to the aiport. I was quite impressed with how directly we made our way through to the aiport although there were some pretty woeful queues and no shortage of checks and rechecks (we were electronically screened twice and I was given one of the most intimate gropes i've ever received from a man in an airport). We finally made it to our plane and boarded just at the scheduled departure time only to be told that due to bad weather in London we're going to be delayed at over an hour (1020 tp 1130) - not very good to be waitinng around on the plane for so long but at least we know we're not going to miss it. Just been told until 1200 ... 1215 now ... Grrrrr. ...
Certainly was a very different city to anything else i've seen on the trip - very enjoyable but I don't think an excessive stay would be a very healthy option.

Last Orders

15 September - Went out for last drinks with the housemates on Thursday night. Very enjoyable evening and everyone made an appearance - some made more of an appearance than others though. Finishing off with rounds of tequilas was probably not the best idea after the previous nights adventures but it did inspire me to compulsorily acquire a dozen forks for the household. Experiments with absinthe when we returned to the house led to some rejoicing and some lamenting - tis a wicked woman that green fairy.
The next day was started with ibuprofen and followed later by a purging at the Bikram Yoga studio again - I seem to be getting a little bit better but that just makes it harder because i'm doing the poses properly now. AMusing moment when the teacher was adjusting a woman's pose and asked if she was pregnant only to be told an icy NO.
That night went out with Kimberley, Yvonne and Steve and another friend of theirs whose name I cannot recall to see A Few Good Men, staring pretty-boy Rob Lowe. I've always wanted to see the play and the direction and sets were excellent. There was also some signiciant scenes that had been omitted from the film version which were very interesting (the Keifer Sutherland character was far more detailed and was an absolute religious nut) although for the most part it was a line by line simulacrum. The performances however were slightly disappointing. There was lots of spittle flying across the stage and the scenes where Caffee and Jessup were shouting at each other didn't seem to sync up just right. Rob Lowe also made the most unbelievably implausible theatre punch to another character but then again, all he needed to do was just show up on stage. The intermission was marked by the loud slopping noise of wet panties slucking away from the vinyl chairs as the female contingent of the audience reminesced about St Elmos Fire and Class but probably not that dodgy Gulf War film that he did post-rehab. Hate to say it but Tom Cruise he ain't.
After saying my fare thee wells to Kimberley who is also off on her own international holiday I called James to see if he was still working as I planned on crashing over there that night prior to the flight to Amsterdam. He told me to meet him at his old workplace, The Penthouse. I arrived earlier but was greeted by one of James' replacements and whisked up to the top with all the beautiful people where I was provided with whatever my heart desired. James eventually turned up and introduced me to the myriad of associates and friends that he has accumulated in this little bar before steadily getting roaring drunk (and taking me along with him) before stealing the bar's pineapple at a very, very late hour. I suppose it's a sign of his extreme competence that he can get away with such outrageousness.
Tried to organimise things once we returned to the flat with various degrees of success - woke up jamess' flatmate twice, the second time whilst we were locked in unarmed physical combat with each other. Eventually my travelling companion finished his packing (i would later learn it to be in woeful despair of long trousers but very generous in underwear and shorts {I didn't think my friend required changing on such a regular basis}) but sleep was something that had to be sacrified for the ordeal. Had very little trouble getting to the airport although the major lines were down and we had to change three times to eventuallyget there and we were still pretty early. Before boarding, however, we bore witness to the rather unpleasant sight of a youngish man being physically dragged aay from the plane screaming 'i want an immigration officer! I want an immigration officer!'. Had no idea what his background story was. We had to play a bit of musical chairs in order to sit next to each other on the plane but luckily we ended up when we did because james was, in his obvious tension because of his irrational and unrealised fear of flying, probing the nooks and crannies of his seat and he found a small bag of hash in the glove compartnent. I came to the most obvious conclusion, that it had been placed there by the airline as a free sample of the country's most recognisable herb, but relucantly had to concede that an English or Dutchman had simply forgotten about then found it on his person whilst flying over to london and did the sensible thing of disposing of it forthwith.
When we arrived in Amsterdam we realisd that we had not organised any accommodation nor investigated how we would get into town. Asked around and found our way into Amsterdam Central and eventually found an okay hostel filled with French speaking but randomly nationalised students studying in Belgium in town for the weekend. All very yong but pleasant enough when they spoke English. Me and James decided that first things first were to head straight out into the coffee shop world and sample what the country had to offer. The coffee was quite awful, very few of the places sell anything that's any good on the coffee front but the other was quite spectacular. We headed out to a few sights on an impromptu walking tour that resulted in many wrong turns and a complete inability to read the spider web of a map. We were helped out by a beggar who we weren't too bothered about paying for his rescue of us but in our state of mind we didn't stay found for very long. The city or at least the central city would have to be one opf the most unique Western cities i've ever been in. The utter dominance of bicycles as the rulers of the road takes quite a while to get used to and the tall crooked buildings that ar all on the verge of falling down and ar not only left standing but ar left occupied. Me and James kept on seeing things that completely baffled us and could have only acknowledge to each other that 'That's Weird!'. There were many things that just didn't eem right, warm food vending machines, the most incredibly busy walk way i've ever been in, windshields in front of baby seats on bicycles, incredible tolerance of soft drugs, and, of course, the strangely inoffensive window displays of semi-naked prostitutes plying their wares. It all adds up to my conviction that this city is just weird.
Did find the Van Gogh museum which was one of the most spectacular galleries i've seen on the trip. Not an enormous building but thousands of paintings all of either Van Gogh himselg for his contemporaries. Not all of them were in the same style but there were very good English briefs which mnade it much easier to appreciate. More map misadventures resulted in an extremely protracted return to the hostel but we evntually found it and met up with and headed out for dinner wih our temporarily Belgiam temporary roommates before me and James did the obligatory tour of the red light district and drinking different sized beers at several of AC's finest public houses. Embarrassed myself by knocking over an old woman's beer and had her leap on my ordering that I repay it (she happened to be just about the only person iv emet in this city who didn't speeak English). Before we ended our night we went for a coffee and tried some chocolat spacecake, which, I presumed would combine with my lack of sleep for the past night to suitably knock me out. However, it hasn't seemed to happen and it's 1 in the morning and i'm still typing as james snores overhead me. It was very nice cake though.

Baffling Japanese Anime

14 October - Took a while to stir this morning due to the hospitality of the previous night but eventually saw daylight and completed some errands before heading to Peckham Cinema with Michael, a probable rogue who is also staying in the house. The film we went to see was Howl's Moving Castle, a bizarro Japanese fantasy film that has been redubbed into English. I have to wonder if it lost anything in translation or, most probably, if the Japanese aren’t concerned with trifling things such as plot, continuity or whether a film makes a lick of sense at all. It was very beautiful to watch but I can't say it really did anything for me.

Don't Let Fear Kill Muni Wi-Fi

Don't Let Fear KillMuni Wi-FiBy Jennifer Granick02:00 AM Oct. 12, 2005 PT
Plans are afoot in Philadelphia andHuntsville, Alabama, as well as myhometown of San Francisco, toprovide residents with low-cost orfree wireless internet access. It's agreat idea whose time has come, likedrinking fountains, public toilets andpark benches. But last week, the SanFrancisco Chronicle reported that mycity's mayor expects a legal challengefrom internet service providers likeSBC and Comcast, who presumablyprefer every San Franciscan to pay amonthly access fee.Obviously, ISPs fear competition froma free service. But people pay forbottled water, music downloads,open-source operating systems andprinted versions of free blogs.Companies can still make money incities with public Wi-Fi by sellingeven faster service or bundlingconnectivity with subscriptions,software or support.Circuit CourtAnd a look a past lawsuits involvingopen wireless suggests that ISPs willneed new legislation if they want tostop community Wi-Fi.There have been only a few caseschallenging open wireless access, butnone against municipalities. SomeISPs have written cease-and-desistletters demanding that theircustomers stop sharing theirbroadband connections overwireless, though none of thesecomplaints has evolved into alawsuit. Many of these disputes arebased on contractual provisions inthe ISP terms of service, which oftenstipulate that customers won't sharetheir broadband connections withother people. Some ISPs, likeSpeakeasy, encourage customersharing, so this restriction is by nomeans universal. And whileindividuals may not have thebargaining power to change thiscontractual term when signing up forwhatever ISP is available in theirarea, San Francisco and othermunicipalities certainly do.In another case, Time Warner sued aNew York City company that installedrouters converting the cableprovider's broadband service intobuilding-wide wireless service. TimeWarner claimed that the companywas illegally capturing and resellingTime Warner’s signal. No courtruled on the validity of this argumentbecause the parties reached asettlement agreement in which thedefendant promised to stop what itwas doing. But whatever companyends up providing wireless in SanFrancisco will do so with its ownequipment and resources.Finally, a smattering of cases havebeen brought against individuals forusing someone else's wirelesswithout permission. But with freemunicipal Wi-Fi, everyone isauthorized to use it by definition.So without legislation, ISPs have nolegal basis for stopping communityWi-Fi. But legislation is a distinctpossibility. The city of Philadelphiaalmost had to scrap its Wi-Fi planwhen the state governor threatenedto sign a bill barring cities fromproviding internet service for a fee.To get legislatures to act, ISPs willargue that they can’t afford toinvest in technological improvementsif they have to compete with freeservices. But the loudest argumentwe'll hear won't be that the wirelessservice itself is illegal, but that peoplewill use it for illegal purposes.Internet crime, whether it be fraud ordeceptive spam, is nothing new, butopen Wi-Fi poses a genuine problemfor law enforcement by makingdigital perpetrators harder to track.Despite the popular view that theinternet is anonymous, manynet-enabled systems are set up torecord or log the internet protocol, orIP, address of computers that makeconnections to it. When investigatingdigital crimes, law enforcement cansimply look at these logs, and, if theyhaven’t been altered, obtain the IPaddress of the perpetrator. Usingpublic registration data, they can tellthat a particular address belongs to acertain ISP, and then go to thatcompany (with the appropriate legalauthority, usually a subpoena) andlearn which customer was assignedthat address during the relevant timeperiod. Voilà, they have a suspect.But when the connection routesthrough an open and unencryptedaccess point, then anyone can usethe service. Investigators can nolonger trace an IP address directly toa suspect, only to a physical location.This problem already exists becausepeople have unsecured wirelessnodes in their homes or smallbusinesses, and universitiesfrequently offer open Wi-Fi bydesign. Indeed, a handful ofprosecutions have already been filedagainst people who used unsecuredaccess points to cover their tracks.But while criminals can always wieldany useful technology to furtherillegal goals -- whether it be theinternet or a getaway car -- thequestion we'll have to answer iswhether the increased difficulty ofidentifying suspects means we shouldreject the technology for everyone.There are tradeoffs here. If we havezero tolerance for internet-enabledcrimes, then we have to lock downthe network in ways that will make itfar less useful. But there's alwayssome risk inherent in the deploymentof any beneficial technology, a riskwe should balance against the valueof bridging the digital divide, andgiving the vast majority of innocentpeople easy connectivity outside thehome.Law enforcement will still havecourt-authorized wiretaps, premisessurveillance and other investigativetools at their disposal. The real crimewould be to let fear stand in the wayof developing a valuable publicresource that makes the internet aseasy and cheap as turning on afaucet.
- - -Jennifer Granick is executive directorof the Stanford Law School Centerfor Internet and Society, and teachesthe Cyberlaw Clinic.

Classy Establishment

13 September - When I woke up this morning and came downstairs I noticed smething that I normally wouldn't have noticed. One of the housemates, the rascal and general ne'erdowell Bob (one of his most significant contributions to my travel knowledge was teaching me how to backroll a spliff), had apparently left his shoes, bag and phone in the kitchen. I didn't really pay it any mind until a little bit later when he called the household informing us that he was currently being detained at her majesty's pleasure. The rogue had been charged with trespassing - his crime, skateboarding in the park at night time. Unfortunately society is still in danger of his nefarious ways because he was let out that day.
The one day that I decided to go out without a rainjacket (also the day that I decided to put out some washing) was the day that a torrential downpour was inflicted on the city - I hid out from the worst of it by visiting the national gallery, which was nice but I was still a bit fatigued from all of the culture that i've been absorbing so I wasn't completely blown away.
I also went for another sesh of bikram yoga and felt completely at one with the universe for a while. Unfortunately, this was not to last as that night I went to grand opening (one of the grand openings anyway) of London's most salubrious and newest bar and kitchen, the Trading House, under the general management of Messeuirs James Templeman. There we were treated to Kasteel Cru, the champagne of beers! (according to James it doesn't even taste like beer ... Why anyone would to drink a beer that didn't taste of beer is anyone's guess but I thought it was very nice ... And it tasted like beer). Also present were the cream of Clerkenwell's underworld although there were no shootings at all, which was very disappointing. A highlight of the night was seeing a rather desperate couple begging to be allowed in when I arrived and I was whisked inside with a minimum of fuss. Had to stumble home in a bit of a state though, unhelped by the fact that the Northern tube line has been shut down for a few days - but a capital night nonetheless.

Top Of The World

12 September - After the very nice reunion with the Chopes et al last night it took me a little while to get started the next day but I had a mission so I headed out to Camberwell in the morning to find the local Internet café where I did some quick research to find a flight to Amsterdam. I found some good deal online but then found that the online booking system wasn;t working so I called the number the suggested. The guy on the other end then quoted me a price far in excess of the one i'd just been given on the Internet - I told him that they'd just quoted me a lot less but he said that the phone booking fee was higher, it turned out that he couldn't accept my Australian credit card anyway so I went straight to the airline and got a deal that was close enough.
Headed back to the house and then after a few errands me and Kimberley headed into town to go on the London Eye. There was a two for one deal if you used a travel card to get there (apparently my oyster card didn't have that morning's trip registered on it but we still managed to get the deal). Apart from the ride being referred to as a flight (please enjoy your flight, sir) it was quite exciting to see the London view. The wheel is incredibly designed - it moves slowly and constantly onlystopping for disabled people to get on or off, and when at the top the view stretched for miles, only marred in the distance by the ubiquitous London smog. I couldn't see our house but many other things.
After this we headed into the west end for a sammich and then I finally made my return to the National Portrait Gallery - i'd dropped in briefly a few weeks previously but hadn't had a proper chance to see everything and I was worried that i'd keep on delaying my visit and eventually miss it altogether so it was very good to see it all properly. Noted the portraits of Degas and Sickert and a few others from the Tate Britain exhbiition i'd seen a few days prior, people who I had no idea of before my visit to the London - obviously i'm becoming more knowledgeable about the art world since my arrival in the city.
I then headed off to meet Walber (from Thailand) where he took me along to his Bikram yoga class - it was a very overpriced studio with tiny facilities but it was well organised. I'd only ever done yoga at the old Broadway Gym and that had been pretty basic so doing it in a room at 40 degrees was very different. I hadn't done much exercise since my the run so it was very good to sweat out the toxins that have been building up in my body this past week - hardest part was dealing with the salt swamping my contact lenses but it was very purifying. After this and something to eat me and walber headed to one of my old places of work, the Black Cap in Camden Town. Hadn't changed too much in eight years although the décor had been updated at some point and the chair were very uncomfortable. According to the barman the landlord was the same guy but he wasn't around (which was not such a bad thing since I didn't have a hell of a lot to say to him). DIdn't recognise any of the customers either but did spot Julian Clary sans makeup - I had been on name terms with him last time i'd been workingthere but there wasn't the flicker or recognition in his eyes when he saw me, eight years is a long time.

He bestrode this earth like a colossus ...

11 September - Was recently criticised for the overuse of the word, colossus, in this online missive. Cannot really see the issue with the overuse of the word colossus as colossus is such an underused word in normal everyday speech. And I like using the word colossus, and shall continue to use it as I see fit.
Rather uneventful day but it was broken up by a viewing of the timeless classic, Oliver Twist. Roman Polanski's version was very good although I kept on expecting all of the characters to break out into song. It's a very good story and the brutality of the times is certainly conveyed - and it is such an important piece of cultural history - i've read that Charles Dickens' stories were said to have done more to stop the exploitation of children in 19th century Englnd than any other political legislation. I still think John Steinbeck's Grapes Of Wrath is the best novel that conveys the injustice of the times but this is very good to.
That night I headed out to Holloway Road for a dinner with Ade and Ruth's friend, Stu (and his bird [his description], whose name may or may not be Clare - i'm very bad with names). Ruth and Ade arrived and there was much rejoicing although Dylan seemed very shy around me at first and Finley barely acknowledged my presence at all, the little brat. James also came and it felt like I was very much at home with all of my Australian friends around and Stu (who i'd only ever known in Australia before). The dinner was excellent although Stu's misreading of the serving sizes led to meals that were befitting of a colossus and there was still tonnes left over (i think they ran out of containers to put all the leftovers in - I hope they shipped the remainder over to a poor nation so they could feast mightily on it). Unfortunately it was a very healthy household and when it came time for coffee there was no real milk in the house (but i'm lactose intolerant! Yeah, well I'm no-milk-in-my-goddamn-coffee intolerant!!!). There was a source of milk in the household and I would have ventured to ask Ruth for a donation but that greedy little mite Finley wouldn't have shared.
When I got home I did a bit of organisimation and delayed my Canada flight a while so that I could squeeze in my trip to Amsterdam - it appears that I will have the very civilised James in my company to ensure that I don't get up to any mischief so Holland here we come, aye?

Market Towns

10 September - Recovery from the comic book party wasn't too bad, could have been far worse. Several of the people from the party stayed at the Halsmere house and there wasn't any movement before 10am, for some not until much later. Apparently the Absinthe that I had brought with me from Slovakia didn't agree with some who'd tried it (obviously it couldn't have been the beer, the wine, the vodka or the dope or the whatever that had disagreed with them) and there were several oaths never to try it again (it was much as I remembered, evil tasting but an enjoyable buzz that followed).
Later in the afternoon I finally had my reunion with Mariax, who i'd met in Australia about five years ago, it was great to see her again - have not seen nearly as many people as I would have liked to have seen so the ones that I have seen are all the more special. We went out to COlumbia Fields Markets and also went to Brick Lane and Spitalfields, more markets. It was like a very large, very trendy Glebe Market, it was also very reminescent of the Sunday market at Chang Mai in Thailand. There was an enormous number of people with enormous tattoos and ridiculous numbers of piercings (i read in a Canadian newspaper that the markets had hosted the annual world tattoo convention last friday so that may have accounted for the painted population). There were some great things for sale and an enormous amount of crap as well (unlike the CHang Mai market, though, even the absolute crap was super expensive). Another highlight was the corner on Brick Lane where all of the stolen bikes were stolen (according to Maria, most of the bikes were probably stolen from the Lane itself). Didn't buy any souveneirs as i've not much longer in the city and i've got no room in my luggage to put them anyway but did eat some very nice bagels.
Returned to the house as the last of the other guests were shuffling off, mostly recovered from their Green Fairy nightmare I hope and me and Kimberley went out to meet Yvonne and Steve, friends of hers and Kate Mills, who I'd met very briefly in Australia. Very nice night in a very reasonable bar in Peckham. From Steve I got some interesting strategies to simulate the secret service on a Stag Night, may have to try that next year when young Matthew Gray goes through the ritual.

Should Pluto Be A Planet?

Of course Pluto should be a planet - or if isn't, nothing should be called a planet. Earth is far more similar to Pluto in that they are both rocky than it is to the gaseous Jupiter and yet there is no call to change Jupiter's status as a planet.

I read an interesting article that mentioned a reclassifcation of all the planets to terrestrials (rocky planets like Earth) to Jovians (gas planets) and other classification for the ones similar to Pluto. That at least tries to address that their are different types of planetary objects but when it comes down to it that is all that they really can be collectively called.

Every one of the standard bodies (not including the ones we don't really understand like quasars and pulsars) in the galaxy is a collection of matter. It is all different types of matter (all the elements are represented in various proportions) and the matter is in different states (from solids to plasma) but that is all they are, a lot of matter that is joined together by its gravity or circumstance.

Bodies that are very very large and made of hydrogen become stars and it is just their size that creates the nuclear reactions that fuses the hydrogen into helium and fueling their energy output. If the collections of hydrogen are smaller (like Jupiter) then their is not the density to set off the fusion explosions to light it up like a star. If Jupiter had been much bigger then it would have been a small star itself and then we'd really have trouble defining what a planet is (although with the presence of another star in the system we probably wouldn't exist if it had). The rocky planets are bits of more solid matter that has coelesced into solid spherical balls. These smaller planets don't have nearly the density to drive any nuclear reactions so they are mostly dead except for in their slowly cooling cores where the density and friction some emit heat energy. Objects like asteroids or comets are just smaller pieces of matter that coelesced or were bigger objects that were just smashed up.

And all of these cellestial bodies interact in different ways but chiefly through gravity.

Gravity is a very weak force but it works over enormous distances and it affects every other thing. One object exerts a pull on another object which is defined by the relationship of the sum of the masses of the two bodies divided by the square of the distance between the two objects.

When one object is said to be orbiting another object they are really just orbiting each other it is only that bigger object has greater mass and therefore a greater iinertia to be overcome than the smaller. If the two objects are of the same size are in proximity then they will just spin around each other equally.

The Earth spins around the Sun but they are really just spinning around each other; the Moon spins around the Earth but they are just spinning around each other. Even Halleys Comet is orbiting the sun in it's own distinct non spherical way.

The very thing that gave Pluto's position up was that astronomers calcuated that it must be there because of the disruption to the orbits of Neptune and Uranus that could only be accounted for by the presence of a largish cellestial object.

Pluto and Mercury are a pretty similar size. The only thing that really seperatts them is distance from the sun. Mercury is much closer and therefore has a much stronger gravitational force working on it than Pluto. The two planets are still interacting gravitationally with same star and they are also interacting gravitationally with each other. The gravitational force working between them is extremely weak because of their small size and enormous distance but the force is still there. In terms of the other small planetoids such as Xena and the other Kuiper Belt objects the only difference is that they are slightly smaller (bigger than Pluto though) and further away. There is no qualitative difference between them, just quantitative. They still interact through gravity with the sun and with each other, just to a lesser degree.

There are millions of objects in the solar system. There is one very big thing which is the sun and there are few pretty big things like the gas giants and their are smaller things like the rocky planets and even smaller things like planetoids and smaller things like asteroids but they are all just things and it's just their size that differs. There is no absolute distinction we can make between any of them that will require an arbitrary decision from the astronomer's club so I think we shouldn't make that distinction.

Fatigue Fatigue

8 October - Went for some excessive wandering today in a search for a Batman mask. Wasn't feeling very well from the amount of fine champagne i'd consumed the night before. Unfortunatdely did not have too much luck finding said mask but it wasn't to be.
Had an interesting moment when I was chatting on the phone and wandering though Kennington Park I was in a bit of a daze when suddenly I found myself being confronted with a rather big guy with the roach of spliff hanging out of his lips. He mumbled something to me and came right into my personal space. Having a flashback from when I was mugged in Sydney a few years back when I was also distracted by a phone call I checked myself and hung up putting my mobile back in my pocket. I looked around and realised i'd wandered into a rather dodgy area. It might have been me over reacting but it felt like i'd walked into Grove St - it was a bit disconcerting (probably not helped by the fact that me and Bob, one of Halsmere Road's residents, had that morning has a Grand Theft Auto sesh), I didn't want to look like I was running away from it so I tried to get through it as quickly as possible. It took me ages to get to the main street - there was probably never any danger but it was still a little bit uncomfortable.
Did some investigations for flights as well for some more jaunting and received a very welcome phone call from young Adrian Chope, newly arrived in London. Made tentative plans to catch up in the coming week - am very much looking forward to seeing someone from home, so it should be very enjoyable.
At night time the household and others went to a comic book party. I'd not found my Batman mask but constructed a fairly unconvincing suit from thermal tights with underwear over the top and black socks simulating boots with black cardboard accessories. Others included a very recognisable Shoveller, a few non-trying Dick Traceys, an awkward Mr Strong, overbearing She-ra, a papier-mache headed Danger Mouse and an over-muscled Captain America. Several had opted for the body paint option includingthe Bob the skateboard enthusiast housemate who was a very blue Dr Manhattan and there was also a green Poison Ivy. There were quite a few people who didn't bother at all and there were some attempts that were so bad that they shouldn't have bothered at all but on the whole it was a very impressive roundup of super heroes and super villians although I don't most of the villians were too intoxicated with various substances to be committing any crimes against civilisation, which is a good thing because the superheroes didn't look cable of doing anything to thwart them.

War Fatigue

8 September - Woke up, got out of bed, dragged a comb across my head. Made my way downstairs and drank a cup. Looking up, I noticed I was late, made the bus in seconds flat. ...**?!??!! ... Went to the Imperial War Museum, which is something that has been on my list since I got here. Some very good displays but and some very educational snippets about the history of war (which is what you would expect) and some very good, factual briefs of all of the major world conflicts over the past hundred years - a lot I didn't know and some I did. There were a lot of school children there and there's only so much reading on such an unpleasant subject that one could do so a few hours was all I could manage. One of the most interestingexhibitions was one on crimes against humanity. It was a half hour documentary and a computer display that had very in depth examinations on the recognition of crimes against humanity and detailed essays on some of the most signficant (armenia, the holocaust, rwanda and cambodia). The movie was harrowing - there were interviews with children who had committed murders in Rwanda and a womn who had lost her entire familyto the Khmer Rouge (this was particularly interesting after having been there so recently).
Couldn't manage anything too cultural after that so went to the movies. I've been feeling movie withdrawala lot on this trip, i'd onlyseen three movies since leaving Australia over two months ago so I decided to see 'Goal'. I wasn't inspired but as it's a trilogy it might come to do it later.
Finally made my debut at London's most prestigious member's club, The Penthouse. Upon arrival we were greeted by the manager and rushed past the riff-raff queing outside and waved through the preliminaries that the normal member must endure. We were then taken to the cloakroom where we were relieved of our jackets. Then we were introduced to the security staff who was told in no unspecific terms that we were the guests of the manager and no harm must come to us during our stay. Taken through the well appointed but common regular club we were given a tour of the restaurant and then taken to the table in the private VIP room that was reserved for our use. We were presented with a bottle of finest champagne on ice and were later regaled with tales of London society by the manager. A capital night. Hangover the next y wasn't too great though ...

Culture Fatigue

7 October - Did a bit of street wandering and errand running in the morning and a bit of window shopping in Jermayne (??) St at all the lovely shirt makers before wandering over to Baker St, 221B that is to see the recreated SHerlock Holmes residence. Had a very late introduction to the AC Doyle detective, never havingseen any of the movies and my literatary exerience has been limited to his latest adventure (the superb Final Solution by Michael Chabon (i think my review of it is at the beginning of the blog)) and the first, A Study In Scarlett, a very racist but rollocking adventure where the world was introduced to him) - however, both of them were very good so I thought the museum would be an interestingdiversion. The address had never been a proper residence but someone recreated the entire apartment based on Watson's descriptions from the books and it was very authentic in parts. The awful animatronic inhabitants that lived upstairs and the awful actor pretendingto be him who greeted me in the drawingroom took away from the experience as well as the 6 pound entry fee.
After that and a very average sammich from Pret A Manger I went to an exhibition at the Tate Britain (free entry thanks to the generous Kimberley's membership) of post-impression European artists in London during the 19th century such as Toulouse le Trec, Degas and Sickert. There were some beautiful paintings including the scandalous 'L'Absinthe' and 'The Rape' - the critics explosive commentary was also very amusing as well as the descriptions of complete overreactions of the people and the artworld to some of the paintings ("Britain was shocked by his use of pastels to reveal the human nature of his subject"). I really enjoyed the exhibition but Kimberley was disappointed that Cezanne wasn't represented at all (how can you have XX and not Cezanne!!!) so my ignorance of the art world probably assisted my enjoyment of the whole event.
Also had a brief look at a bikeshop confirming to me that bike shop attendants over here are just as bad as they ar in Sydney - they do everything in their power to make me hate them. Sherlock Holmes museum, shite
That night Kimberley and James hosted a beautiful dinner party. Two friends whose name escapes me who I took a short while to warm to, he was very into wines and could tell me all about the similarity between the clay conditions in England and those of Champagne, but later on I found them to be very interesting. He was a journalist of some note and she was a food designer for McDonalds (Kimberley had told me that the McFlurry was one of hers) - th journalist had a keen interest in technology and a good knowledge of wifi and the games that one can play with it. It became a very interesting niht. Food was very delicious but very unhealthy (everything had double cream in it and the praline semifreddo dessert was culinary equivalent of a heart attack). Will have to start running again soon if I keep this up (and that just depresses me).

London Road Observation

PJ once told me of an article in Wired magazine (which I subsequentlylooked up and have since tried to enlighten the fraternity of man with) about a revolutionary type of street intersection that waspioneered in The Netherlands - it did away with all signs, and markings, even the demarcation between the footpath and the street - everyone, cars, bikes and people all thrown in together with a maximum speed of 25km an hour, the speed at which it is possible for motorists to make eye contact with each other and hence interact in order to maximise traffic flow. Apparently it worked with a reduction in total traffic time and a drop in accidents - London streets ar the complete opposite of this - there are so many different lines and signs, multiple fences that break up already too narrow streets, even double pedestrian crossings on individual streets. I've certainly experienced the traffic problems in the city and i've been told that there ar lots of accidents - this city certainly seems to enjoy a bit of social engineering and I'm thinking it could certainly benefit from an experiment with the dutch roundabout.

Have noticed that there are thousands of bikes on the road in London - every time one stops at a traffic light there ar usually at least two or three bikes there. i've been told that there has been a big jump since the terrorist bombings on 7/7 (as the papers like to call that particular day) but it's always been like this - apparntly since the bombings there have been lots more accidents as a lot of the people who now ride through the city don't have the experience to deal with the traffic (it's my belief that the cyclists who end up having the most accidents are the ones with the most experience who just don't obey the rules [like me ...]). Another thing that i've noticed is that although there's so many more bikes on the road everybody seems to wear their normal clothes on their bikes (not that there's anything wrongwith that) and hardly anyone seems to wear helmets (and there is something with that) - i've never seen so many people riding bicycles wearing suits or skirts - it does look faintly ridiculous. But then again, I wonder how many people think that about people wearing lycra ...

Once again, back in London

5 September - I don't know how but I managed to get all of my things into my bag - my possessions increased significantly during my stay in Slovakia and my rucksack was overstuffed with presents from everyone that may not have weighed very much but were rather bulky - i'm definitely going to have to abandon some things before I head to Canadia. Irina fed me for the last time and took me out to the airport - I really did not look forward to going back to London just then but the trip must go on.
Flew in a real (jet) plane back to Prague and this time I made my connection. I'd forgotten to ask for an emergency exit this time and had flashes of Vietnamese buses as my legs severely cramped on the second leg - I managed to relocate myself to an empty aisle seet halfway through (hope I didn't look too suspicious moving around on the flight). Very quick and easy passport check and I was back in the UK.

More Reunions

6 September - Once back in London I got in touch with young James Templeman who was celebrating his new position as GM for a trendy bar and restaurant in a trendy area of London (i'm not sure if he was happier about getting the new job or leaving the old one). Had a small reunion with the CAmberwell household and had to recount my depressing marathon experience a few times but I was also reminded of how wonderful the Slovakian experience was so that offset the black mood somewhat but then I headed out to Swiss Cottage to see James and some of his expatriate friends (one or two i'd met before in Australia so that was pleasant to catch up again - made me feel slightly more at home to here some Australian accents). The night was slightly alcohol fuelled and I ended up crashing at Jame's very nice Primrose Hill house - twas a very large and comfortable couch that was my berth this time.
The next day went back to Camberwell and had a rather average café brunch (i really was spoiled on the food front in Slovakia) and then went to an Internet café to do some organising things - finally managed to purchase some SkyeOut credit so I can now fully exploit the solution.
Also in the afternoon I met up with Walber, a London based brazilian who i'd met in Chang Mai. He'd offered me a temporary place to stay while I was in London (traveller's are very nice like that) - very nice flat in Islington (very nice flat!), we headed out there from the west end on his moto - first time i've been on the back of a motorbike since THailand and it was a very different experience - still weaving in and out of traffic a bit but it's a far different experience when everyone on the road at least pays token attention to the rules. However, I was certainly feeling a far stronger connection to my own mortality than I did when I was in Bangkok. It's far more comfortable being on a moto with a helmet and clothes that could actually afford a little protection than shorts and sandles.
After this I headed out towards my old place of work/residence in Hampstead, the King William IV pub. The place hadn't changed at all - I don't even think they'd cleaned the carpet since I was there last. There was obviously nobody behind the bar that I knew (one would have to be pretty unambitious to stay there for eight years) but there were a couple of vaguely familiar faces holding the bar up - none worth knowing unfortunately. Did get chatting with the bar manager though, a Polish guy named Jaczek living over here, and he was very hospitable (discounting rounds and generallydrinking on my side rather than serving on this, he also excitedly demonstrated the bluetooth version of modern gaydar flirting) - later we were also joined by some beautiful Czech girls and our clique spent the majority of the night commiserating about how much we missed eastern europe compared to London. I am very glad to be back in London but there is something about Slovakia that has put its hold on me, maybe it's just that it was nice to be around such close family after such a long time (long for me) but i've got to get prepard for the next step and that step will be Canada.

Impressions of my pre-stepmother

I'm really not looking forward to returning to London now - six days of not even being allowed to take a plate back to the kitchen and being fed some of the best home-cooked food i've had since ... I can't even remember when (although mum did cook me a mean seafood stew sometime earlier in the year).
I'm not sure if it's her Russian heritage or her extended Slovakian lifestyle that has made her into such a determined cook, in the time that I was there I ate:
Day 1 - D - Slovakian vegetable soup and hungarian goulash with apple and coconut cake (all home made)
Day 2 - B - Slovakian sausages with toast
L - German pork chops topped with scrambled eggs, peanuts and cheese with mash (possible one of the best dishes i've ever had)
... Then I went to Bardejov and ate very well but that is for another tale as I returned for the pasta party and the less said about that food the better ...
Day 4 (Marathon) - Ham and eggs and toast (as irina said, you eating cereal and I do not think that is so good)
L - at a restaurant which was okay
D - Siberian pelmene (giant ravioli) with mustard sauce (i not like to eat at restaurant, I make at home so much better [and she does!!])
Day 5 - B - Eggs scrambled with onion mushroom and bacon and toast
L - Chicken soup and Slovakan capsicum filled with meat, rice and onions
D - jewish chicken (kosher?) with bulgarian salad
...
I can't cook for myself after this - what were M&D thinking allowing me to stay over here for so long? And I always get servings twice as big as hers and more besides - when she gives me two pieces of cake, if I try to push one onto her because I simply can't eat anymore she gives me a look as if i'm crazy, 'I cannot eat this, I cannot, you must!'
And it didn't just stop at food, i'm not allowed to help with washing up (i think there are jobs for the man and there are jobs for the woman) or do any of my own ironing (she just laughed at me, Ironing? You? That is good, it is a joyke [joke]) ... If she was an older babushka like Aunty Maria (and the world would be a far, far worse place without babushkas like Aunty Maria) this kind of behaviour would be condoned and even welcomed but she's completely glam (the bathroom is a bit overwhelming for me and she owns more pairs of shoes than mum does if that's possible!) due to her Soviet fashion technology training (?) and fashion orientattd career - she's just a little red-haired superwoman.
Admittedly, there have been moments of tension on my part (she's a worse channel surfer than the male Cucvaras and every room in the house has a large ticking clock including one that chimes throughout the entire flat every hour) and on hers (she get very angry at the fact that Kitsunya, the long haired slug with a cats face, spends too much time in my room and has threatened to send her off with me (if she spends time with you I don’t love her anymore and I get rid of her!)) but on the whole it's been a fantastic week.
Before I left I stayed at Chez Collins and was woken up in the morning by the wonderful Kate bearing gifts of pastry and coffee and I exclaimed how utterly fantastic it was and Kate remarked, 'Yes, Sax, you need a wife!' and I heartily agreed at the time but I think a pre-stepmother will do ...

Recovery - Day Number 1

4 October - Woke up in pretty bad condition - my legs were aching and I had a bit of a rash from my running shorts and was still pretty annoyed from yesterday's events. One thing I forgot to do before the run was trim by toenails and the tips of my toes were very bruised and a bit bloody - everything will heal in good time though. Small thing I didn't mention in yesterday's commiseration was a great thing that the locals did with cheering people on - some of thm were carrying the registration list and as runners approached them they looked up our numbers and then cheered us on by name - I did a bit of rubbernecking as I heard people yelling out 'Go Sax, Go!' (in Slovak so I presume it was 'go', maybe they were shouting 'Faint Sax, Faint!'), and there were also the local drunkards giving people slurps of their beer as they ran past (maybe if i'd indulged I wouldn't have had the same result) ...
Had to have a pretty quiet day so me and Irina headed out to a few of the shopping malls so that I could take advantage of the all-powerful Australian dollar's buying power and I got a few small things (i don't know if i'm going to be able to fit everything into my bag with all the bits and pieces i've accumulated from the family but hopefully I won't be leaving anything behind).
Got a call and email from the insurance company regarding my medical claim which I couldn't do - the cost of the ambulance, ECG and other tests totalled up to 350 SK or around about $AU15 (good place to collapse during a marathon, I suppose) - which is far less than the excess I would have had to pay.
Later on we went on a small tour around town and up a small mountain where the air was clear and the view was of the beautiful local ... Kosice US Steel factory, but it was very nice. Also when we returned to the flat one of Irina's neighbours gave me a suspicious look and asked Irina who I was (younger man perhaps???), Irina told her and she laughed because she knew dad from 36 years ago.
Stano and Natasha dropped around with a video he'd made up of my time here - most of it was from when he'd hidden the camera in a corner and none of knew he was filming but there was also my embarassing performance at the foosball table and, of course, the inevitable footage of the marathon. It shows all of the athletes running through the start, then me at several points during the race (looking okay, as far as I can tell) including the 36k mark where I run off into the distance never to be seen again and then it ends with Slovak Prime Minister Dzurinda crossing the finishing line in triumph (actually very depressing to watch).
Later that night I also met Mrs Zara Djuberova, who's husband was a colleague of dads and she had a photo of a very young Joe Cucvara (age 25) to give me. She was very excitable but didn't speak that much English - but she did make it clear her consternation that I was planning to spend such a long time away from my mother. Irina told me that many of the building's inhabitants were long termers who knew dad when he lived here and all of them were quite excited about my presence there - pity I didn't meet more of them to find out about dad's (presumably) unsavoury past. But then again, they all seem so happy to see me so i presume must have made a pretty good impression on them all prior to '69.

All The Pain and None of the Glory

2 October - Woke up today after a good sleep and was given a good high protein, high fat breakfast by Irina before we headed down to Kosice for the marathon. We first met with the Sestaks including Aunty Maria before I headed into the holding pen for the start. It was a very bright and sunny day, stark contrast to the grey weather we’ve had thus far. We were given what I presume must have been an inspriing speech by the PM (who was also running). The first off the ranks were the inline skaters at 957 before we had our count down and we were off. There was some very inspiring classical music as we headed through the start and made our tour through the city. I was feeling pretty good for the first half (i had a very good time when I passed the 21k mark of about 89m), helped by my large following who I saw at various intervals throughout the race - as I reached the 30k mark I was starting to really feel the impact on my legs as well as the heat (as is pretty normal if Sydney was anything to go by as a yardstick) - I passed my supporters at the 36k mark and was feeling a little delirious but around 37.5 I had a disaster - I was running at a good speed when I fainted, collapsing on the road - I crawled over to a tree and pulled myself up then collapsed again. As I was trying to get up a couple of officials ran up to me and forced me to sit down on a park bench and gave me something to drink. I tried to stand and keep on going but they wouldn't let me - I begged them to at least let me walk but before I knew it an ambulance had arrived and I was being bundled up into it - when I was lying down my head became completely messed up and I think I started to hallucinate a bit - sweat started to pour into my eyes (with contacts) and I was desperate to go to the toilet (no 2 unfortunately) but I had a lot of trouble communicating with the paramedics who didn't speak much English. They blasted the sirens and took me to Kosice hospital (first time in an ambulance so I suppose that was a plus). Whilst I was lying down my legs started to cramp up severely and I had to lift them to try to stretch them out, the nurses and paramedics mistook this for me trying to escape (which, admittedly I wanted to do) and they tried to restrain me. Eventually managed to get them to realise my dire need to go to the toilet (only distance runners actually know how awful going to the toilet is after a long run - everything gets shaken around and it's very painful). I had a slight gash on one knee from my initial fall and they dealt with that pretty early on and I was also given an ECG (in my mental state I thought that they were going to give me electro-shock therapy and it was pretty scary) and a few other tests. Nobody spoke any English and it took a while before they realised I was Australian (for some reason they were convinced I was german). I kept on trying to tell them that my family were waiting for me (indeed they'd ended up going to the polce) but eventually I got them to call irina (which they didn't tell me). They also tried to get me to sign a statement confrming that i'd pay for the ambulance and treatment, I wanted to talk to my insurers first but there was little chance of that. However, someone from the Marathon came so I went with them (also, no english); he took me back towards the finishing line and as we were coming back I recognised Viktor's unruly head in a car leaving - ii managed to stop the car and was reuinited with the fams. They already knew the basics of the story but I had to go to the finish line to drop off my chip so I ended up doing the last few hundred metres of the marathon in my bare feet (my feet were a bit swollen for wearing shoes) and I crossed the line a bit under five hours (admittedly only having run 38k). I didn't want to accept the finishing medal but they insisted and I was approached by one ammazed looking man asking me if i''d done the marathon without shoes, I had to dispel his awe reluctantly. Very disappointing about the run because I couldn't even claim that 'at least I finished' AND I fell over, breaking one of the three cardinal rules. The one thing that made my bruised ego feel better was that I never stopped running (short of one brief toilet break early on) - even when I felt like death I never walked and I ran until I dropped which is a sign that i'd reached my limit that day. And there's no shame in not completing a marathon. However, it also means that i'll have to come back in 2007 because i'm not going to let this track beat me.
Had some pep-talks by everyone around me (including dad - twice!) but pep-talks only ever make one feel worse because they come from pity and afterwds we had a nice late lunch at a Slovak restaurant with the family - was also given a wonderful Siberian pasta dish from Irina that night (am really getting over over-eating so much though by now).
In hindsight i've no idea why I collapsed - i'd done enough training and i'd not had a bender the night before - on the TV the guy who came second said it was the hardest the Kosice Marathon had been for him (the guy who came first was a Kenyan and probably didn't speak slovak) but I don't think there were many others who didn't finish so ... FUCK.

The Moment Of Truth

31 September - It is now the moment of truth - by which I mean that i've been lying for the past few months ...
Couldn't sleep last night at all and when I finally did pass out I woke up from one of the most horrific nightmares I can remember having - I was subjected to kidnapping and terrible mind games - absolutely awful - although when I woke up in the wee morning hours the whole thingseemed patently ridiculous and I was baffled that I could even have conceived that it was real even though it was a dream. When I got up near half eight Maria gave me a very large Slovak breakfast (too much meat but very delicious) with Jamesons whiskey as an apeterif (???) and I made the mistake of looking in the phone book for any Cucvaras - I found one and tried to ask Paul and Maria if it was a relation - I don't know what happened after that but they were making phone calls and talking to me at a hundred miles an hour in Slovak - I'm still not sure what they thought i'd asked but I managed to get them to stop in their quest to answer my unknown question. The rest of the family came over later on (everyone including Eva this time - who hasn’t aged at all in 8 years) and Maria performed one of her baffling food spells - feeding 11 people from the tiniest galley i've ever seen - very nice, but every time I finished any part of the meal she'd give me more - despite me telling her no, eventually I finished everything without having more food secreted on my plate and I gave my plate to her in triumph - IT'S OVER!! Then she gave me a complete replacement - I was feeling very quesy by the end of it all.
The rest of the family and I went for a tour of the old city and the local spa which was quite nice - Natasha bought me a very cheesy souvenir t-shirt and my younger cousins taught me a lesson in foosball that I wasn't going to forget (very embarassing, especially after i'd told them of my prowess back at home). We got back to Maria's and she asked me if was hungry - I said, Not at all, and she said okay, and brought out some food. I cannot understand how her family manages to all be so thin with the amount of food that they consume - it doesn't make sense to me.
I had the marathon Pasta Party to go to in Kosice so Stano and Natasha took me back to town (with Viktor in tow) - we were running a little late but it wasn't that urgent but that didn't stop Stano speeding back at 170km a hour at one point (it doesn't feel that fast until you take a slight corner and my overstuffed stomach lurched across the car). Irina was waiting for me, having not only done all my washing but had bought me a jacket and jumper while i'd been away and before I could protest had bundled me out of the house and escorted me to the party (the quality of the hospitality is getting ridiculous - I almost wish I had dad here to fend them off, they just don't listen to me) - the party was actually pretty crap - apparntly the prime minister was supposed to be there but I couldn’t find anyone who spoke a word of english and the pasta was pretty disgusting - I took my free beer and soon returned home. Upon arriving Irina interrogated me about tomorrow's plans - corrected me when I said somethingshe didn't agree with, gave me tomorrow's menu and ensured that my outfit was completely laid out. I always seemed to cope when I was on my own on this trip - but now that i've had people waiting on me hand and foot the past few days i'm not looking forward to resuming my personal duties.
Anyway - tomorrow is the marathon so i've got to try and get some sleep ... i've got a bit of an audience and I really hope they don’t have any huge expectations but it should be fun (at the beginning and at the end anyway) ... So, good luck to me. It should be okay as i've followed most of my motto thus far ... Get Your K's up, Keep Your Glukes Up and Don't Fall Over (two out of three isn't too bad).

Registration Woes and Cheerful Reunions

30 September - Woke up and was given a traditional (Russian I believe) breakfast and, not too much later, a traditional (could have been german) lunch by Irina - the lunch was preceded by an apeterif of a different flavoured vermouth (i think it's going to be difficult to reveal the fact that I think that vermouth is absolutely undrinkable), we also spent a fair amount of time going through her photographs (some of her early days with dad and some others - fascinating stuff) one interesting factoid I found out that her current apartment was actually the one that she used to share with dad many years ago, and there were some photographs of the dad in the same room we were in when he was pretty close to my age ... it was kind of spooky (it has to be said that the apartment bears no signs of dad's spartan design aesthetic. It is nice to be able to speak to someone who has a different insight into the old guy (without him there to contradict it!) - i'm sure Maria, his sister, has the best information but unfortunately it is hidden by a wall of languages which can only be broken by me learning my new native tongue (because I have a feeling that she's not going to learn English) - after this we headed down into the rainy Kosice town and found our way to the marathon registration. Went to the counter and was told that my name wasn't on the list (a good thing I had Irina there because their English was pretty poor - damn Eastern europeans didn't have the courtesy to learn my language, the nerve of thm!!!) - we were told to come back n 20m when the manager arrived. I wasn't really worried although it would have been an interesting travel tale to come halfway across the world to run and then be told that my registration wasn't completed properly and I wouldn't be allowed (maybe in the soviet era it would have been like that although some palm greasing could have solved that particular problem). Anyway, after a nice Turkish coffee we returned only to find out that we'd been in the half marathon desk and everythingwas right with the world. I think i'm the only Australian doing the run (the girl was very surprised that I was from so far away) so i've got a grave responsibilty not fuck it up ... too much. Got a very cool souvenir bag as well, much better than the sydney marathon. After this and a short trawl around the shops we were met by Stano (cousin by marriage) and Maria (cousin) and young victor (first cousin once removed), who had grown up from a little eight year old into a long haired extreme sportsman specialising in fixed gear racing and downhill biking (his hospitalisation stories were quite revolting). We returned to Irina's and had a short whiskey (you want to drink alcohol before the marathon??? I'm not sure what kind of an introduction dad has given the family over here but they seem to think that i'm a hard core puritan olympic level athlete - i'm feel a little guilty disabusing them of the notion. Afterwards we headed over to Bardejov, the old home town. On the way I realised that i'd presumed that Victor was stano and maria's son - I mean, a couple arrived with a kid, you're naturally going to presume that it's theirs, aren’t you? It turns out Victor was brought because he spoke the best english (stano's is pretty good tho), - the slightly awkward moment was shrugged off without too much embarassment though - i'm entitled to make a few mistakes I think (it has been eight years). Anyway, a great reunion at the dushenko household - nothing has changed except the fact that the kids had all grown about a foot on me and they're all verging on adulthood now. A very nice dinner (Slovakian food is so carb-heavy though and I again shocked my hosts by taking wine with dinner, (ALCOHOL?!?!) - I was also reminded of how the laws of physics cease to operate in Maria's kitchen - it is absolutely tiny yet such enormous quantities of food come out off it - she definitely has the magic of a slovakian babushka. Afterwards Viictor was put to hard work translating between the family and me - the Slovak/english dictionary was still needed however - quite reminsent of Alice's labours in France. I'm a bit worried about the run on Sunday though; there were lots of little pastries served after dinner which were very nice bbut unidentifiable - after the sixth one I finally managed to find out what it was - opium (well, poppy seeds). Hoping I don’t get a ny drug tests because it'll probably still be in my ststem by sunday (i know it's in two days time but they're very nice and i'll have to have some more tomorrow). I have also been informed that dad would be calling again tomorrow morning (i kind of miss being in the third world where they couldn't track me down so easily).

Greetings Citizen!

29 September - A city welcomes its newest son. last time I walked through the narrow streets of the stronghold of Kosice in the Republic of Slovakia it was as a foreigner, a stranger in a strange land; I have returned after eight years of hard labours not as a stranger but as a citizen (albeit one travelling on a foreigner's passport) and not just any citizen but the 5,189,283rd citizen (or thereabouts).

Back in Town

30 September - Finally got on the plane at Prague after six hours of wandering, reading and rereading the paper and eating crappy airliine food. The plane was a dinky little 30 passenger thing with propellors (the last time I flew in a plane with propellors was eight years ago when I flew to Slovakia) - I remember reading in Thailand that Air Phuket was recently forced to ground all of its propellor planes because they were so old (i hope they're different planes to these ones). The flight was actually pretty smooth - very budget but it was fine - I think I was the only non-Slovakian speaking person on the plane (we were all Slovaks you see) yet they still repeated every Slovak announcement with one in English (would the French do that for one passenger??? Maybe they would if he was blind ...) - the UK and the US might have some pretty high tech fire power when it comes to passport control but it's nothing compared to Slovakia's glower power - the policeman took my passport glared at it, glared at me , stamped it and then let me through - that's the kind of border control I love ... I was met by Irina at the airport and was quickly whisked away to the town if Kosice - it was night time so didn't really have much of a chance to see the town but she had everything prepared for me ... Before dinner she asked me the unthinkable, 'Do you drink alcohol?' DO I DRINK ALCOHOL??? Yes (what has dad been saying about me behind my back - that i'm a puritan?), so we had an apeterif (any excuse for a drink over here) unfortunattly Irina is 'an old woman' (her words not mine) and therefore she drinks vermouth ... Therefore I drank vermouth but I grinned an bore it.
I was given explicit plans for what i'd be doing the next couple of days and despite having eaten all day (there's not much else to do in an airport) I was given a rather large Slovakian dinner (which I ate because i'm a collosus - I have a feeling i'll be doing a lot of eatingwhilst over here) ... Earlyish night (i was up at 4:45 you see) only marred by Irina's beautiful persian cat's spooky glowing eyes glaring at me all night long ...