At the end a true hero perhaps?

The book really is crap but I am still alive!

Yangshuo: The Last Chapter.

Travelling...
Seeing, trying, smelling, hearing, coming and leaving, finding and losing.
Mostly I believe it's finding. Finding places, new flavours, new horizons, new people. Only the people, they always have to go (Ian said, I thought).
It's part of it.
They shall never be gone for too long though.
___________________________________________________
The first night we all met we had a highly profound (!!!) debate on relationships.
Everybody who was sat at the table was single.
Self, in my quest for truth, chasing after adventures and beauty and life, not really looking for but finding.
Claudine, travelling, not looking for and not wanting even if anything was to happen.
And the rest openly admitting to be in search of a soulmate.
And perhaps we should all just admit it with no arms twisted.
___________________________________________________
The hour was upon me.
Said bye to Claudine, Elliot, Rusty and the West Street (happy to have survived the sudden unexpected right hook from Capitalism), leaving with peace and love in my heart, surprisingly satisfied and content.
Ian walked me to the station. We held hands and talked a little and thought thoughts.
We said bye and we kissed.
And perhaps some day we will again...
...say goodbye?

Last day and paradise.

Met up with all at 11am again.
We are off to go swimming to this magical remote place at the end of the roads we have to cycle, behind the rice fields we have to walk (and where Josh can never find out about). Rusty, Elliot, Eve, Ian and I.

There is so much power in these omnipresent hills, in the fields that just stretch forwards, besides and behind, endlessly. And end is the last thing that you're thinking of.
Once again we all sat and we talked, we sunbathed, swam and talked again and the energy flew from one to another, led by the Water, picked up by the Wind, taken to the Sun and thrown back at and among us to travel, search and find and stay forever, kept together with our hearts and souls and random thoughts of that one moment in our little boxes of memories.

About how we almost climbed a hill.

Diaorrhea is no more just an acquaintance, more of a commrade you get to see quite often and not always want to, something like a colleague perhaps, or a schoolmate.
Met Ian this morning. Met Greg and Rex at Jimmy's on our way to rent bikes and climb a hill.
And so once again we cycled here and there and left and right and mostly forwards, through villages and rice fields, down narrow bumpy field paths to find our hill.
We found it. And we almost climbed it too.
It was nice. We walked up and across and up again through bushes and tickly grasses with lots of bugs and insects on them and it was hot and the bushes were scratchy and insects were tickly though it still was lovely to just sit somewhere thirty metres closer to the peak (or thirty metres further from the bottom??)and look around and talk and get tickled by the insectes and grasses, or just sit around and look and get tickled and be quiet.

And then we cycled again and made some new fishing friends who gave us a melon and were very nice and let Ian fish. We cycled some more and talked a bit to lovely water-selling ladies who would sell us the whole world if only they could and then we cycled some more again, found where the Dragon Teeth ended and there we sat under a tree and kissed.

We cycled back and ate (rather risky an affair) and met up with Elliot and Eve and watched a film, as you do when you travel in China. We later went to Bar 98, for a change, (self in her belief in alcohol-caused-diaorrhea credulously though resolutely persisted at driniking coconutmilk) and leaving Claudine behind talking to some mysterious middleaged strangers (mmmmmm) Ian and I went in to watch another movie and so we watched and kissed and walked home and kissed and went to sleep.

Plans, public opinion and mud.

I could not sleep for shit.
Today I was supposed to be leaving.
Obviously, still in bed at 9.40 a.m., I did not.
Bedazzled and emptymindedly loved up came back to the hostel at something to 6 a.m. which meant I had half an hour to pack my plums and be off again. Instead I roamed the room for my super-useful book and my map, sat in the corridor elaborating over the current issue of future plans of action, achieved an ancient-wisdom-state-of-mind and decided to stay and live the people not the hills and rocks, there, waiting for me for all eternity anyway.

Woke Claudine up, told her about how Ian kissed me and asked her if she wanted to have breakfast with me from which she indeed assumed that I haven't gone (as originally planned, spontaneously publically persuaded and consequently re-planned).
After breakfast, almost immediately followed by my (first) runny-poo-session (my diagnosis stated light alcohol poisoning) we all met at Jimmy's bar, sat for a little while, pondered upon serious matters and carefully and rather slowly we set off for the mud caves.
Rusty and Claudine on a tandem bike, Greg on a super-dooper mountain bike, followed by self riding an old-fashioned pink machine with a basket in front and a bell on the right handle, how content could one's life be.
Ian and Elliot disappointed the cause for went back to bed to sleep off their hangover, not realizing that life itself is better a cure than any paracetamol.
And so we cycled towards Moon Hill where there was a huge, by all means perfectly even-by-the-most-illiterate-even-blind-tourists unmissable sign directing us towards the hut with the mud caves.
There were no mud caves in the hut and so we waited for the vehicle to take us to some. The vehicle turned up to be this motor-cycle-type-tractor-car thing and it took us miles and miles down bumpy rocky dusty town and country roads to somewhere completely else where they armed us with pink and yellow helmets and over-the-shoulder-to-be-hanged torches, for some reason Claudine, the lucky bunny, was bestowed with a pair of extremely unattractive plastic sandals which apparantely were less slippery than her original sandals, which they were not, and off we were.

Our guide was a really sweet boy, he kept pointing to various rocks, stalagnites and stalactites of various forms and shapes, most of the time not resembling what they were supposed to be resembling, but still they were very pretty. Except for the bats, the bats did very much look like bats (cute fluffy flying mice).
What an extremely calm and satisfactory life must pigs lead indeed. Our guide brought us to the long anticipated mud baths, a hole in the ground of the cave, filled with brown smooth heavy mud, topped with brown and very cold water. And after an hour we all looked rather different from what we looked like when our dear mothers cared for and cherished us (very much Gollum look-a-likes), happy little devils with shining eyes and broad white smiles, with mud down our pants and up our noses, and with no more hangover left.

Absolutely worn out though sheepishly happy we safely returned, showered and Claudine and I invaded the streets for our usual dinner hunt. We met up with the rest afterwards and absolutelly non-stereotypically we continued the party in Enter the Dragon.
Ian and Elli joined us eventually, we played some drinking games and tried to calm down an Ozzy guy who was getting all worked up about his girlfriend (and very much reminded me of JSU-not an ultimately best reminder but hey!).
The night brought us to Bar 98 and there we continued drinking delicious Chinese beer, talking mostly about ineresting nothings, and with Ian we made plans for climbing a hill tomorrow.

Decisions to make, my heart to live.

Mountains don't go away, people do. I shall stay.

Us...and things.

We wandered from Enter the Dragon to Bar 98 and back again, attempted to disco, the experience of Kiss bar with the performing rythm-less half naked pretty Chinese girls and rythm-less dodgilly-dressed-singer Chinese boys being rather quite a failure, topped up with my escape to the toilets to hide after the security guards spotted me taking pictures of one of the dancing-rythm-less-half-naked-chinese-girls.
We slowly mindlessly wandered back to where we started to continue our future, Claudine, Rusty, Greg, Rex, Elliot, Ian and I.

(Need to listen to Leonard Cohen's Anthem to read and feel and understand that)it was as if we have always known each other and organized to go on holiday together. We all came and we all left, one after another yesterday, today and tomorrow.

We stayed at Bar 98 until 5.30am, talked and talked, nonsense most of the time, sense at times, but that was not what mattered.
What mattered was...Josh perhaps. Josh, an American legend, with a Chinese wife-to-be and an american-flag-scarf on his head, permanently laid in alcohol, seemingly permanently caned. Expressed his desire to hold me in his arms and rock me like a baby.
Very flattered I however felt a great relief when Ian appologized to him on my behalf, saying that he was just about to ask me if he could walk me home. I evaluated the proposals on offer and said that he could.
And so he did. And then he kissed me.

About how we all met

With Claudine we cycled for a little bit more and then returned to Yangshuo. In front of the hostel we met a strange (=very unusual looking, tall, bald, wonderfully suntanned, wearing random colourful clothes) guy (who Claudine obviously had met before) who invited her (refusing to even grant me one glance)to join him and some other people for a drink later. We agreed on the time and the two of us were off to search for local cuisine and leaving West Street behind we went looking for supper down the always busy lanes (with locals rather than westerners who, quite self-evidently, stayed mostly on the West Street)of the little town.
We had our supper in one of the street restaurants and sharing the table with a bunch of happy Chinese guys and girls constantly shouting 'Gambae!' constantly drinking to something, we indulged in constantly shouting 'Gambae!' with them and constantly drank to something (anything)too. And ah, dad's homemade slivovica so was the drink to cheer with!
At about 9pm (when we agreed on meeting with the weirdo) we were off, happily hopping down the back streets to our hostel in the West Street, to meet Rusty (the weirdo) and have some more delicious local beer.
And so we entered Enter the Dragon and we all met.

For hours and hours we sat and talked, about interesting things, about fun things and about various random things, mostly nonsense too.
And thus it was for days coming and going until we were all gone again.

The road to somewhere.

I attained a new dorm-mate, Claudine. She's Dutch and my new patner in crime since Eric had to pack his plums and had no time for no more adventures in Chinese countryside.
Thus the two of us, Claudine and I, were off to chase the wind and find our future.
And what a trully wonderful day it was.
We rented bikes, as you do just like you eat bauza for breakfast and drink beer instead of water, and cycled somewhere (not too sure about where since the map was more for aesthetic reasons than others) and so we cycled from one road to another, around, inbetween and through the 'dragon teeth' finding villages and people, finding life and more. I.e. The Restaurant at the End of Universe. I had to stop otherwise I'd fall off my flying pidgeon like a rotten pear off a tree. And i laughed. And I so wished Claudine knew and understood how important The Restaurant at the End of Universe is for one's life fullfilment. My life is complete.(although remain slightly dissapointed as really really wanted to find out where the end of universe was. Thinking about it now, it could as well have been that just there and then...mmmm)
There was so much beauty in the mess, so much style and order in the vital disorganisation and here I suddenly got struck about what life really is. It's life.
(and then I glimpsed a western couple whizz on their bikes past us, lead by a local boy-very likely showing them for 50 yuan the true China, brain stops for a moment in wonder, moment is gone and you shake your head and smile with quiet marvel and a little pity yet rather inconspicuously and only to yourself).
We were hungry. Restaurant at the End of Universe was closed and so we had to find another solution to our growing problem. We spotted a local store so we thought it would be a good idea to ask them there whether they knew where we could get some food. It indeed was a grandeur idea!
We ate like kings. The whole village gathered around us sat on little wooden stools around an old little wooden table and they watched us. And some even spoke to us, if one is considering yelling down your ear (while shaking a nicotine stained hand holding a cigarette bud in front of your eyes, ears and other important and sensitive organs)"Smoking! Smoking! Ha! Ha! Ha! Smoking!" as talking to someone. It was all very nice, the owner-lady cooked a pot of fresh rice for us with stir fried dried soya and some vegetables just picked from her own garden and it was delicious and only for 3 Yuan for the both of us! The village women came to have a look at us, having their babies clinging to them or the older kids running around, at times stopping for a moment offering a shy smile and then running off again into the known security of the familiar surrounding.
After this fantastic feast we sat for a little while and talked and were ready to get going again. So we looked at each other, took our wallets out and put the money together, before agreeing to pay a little more since it was absolutely delicious. And that's where our dream of purity of soul and noble minds unaffected by materialism of the western world ended. When the woman saw our money she started, first nicely, shaking her head and her finger in front of her nose telling us that 'Buyon! Buyon! San SHUUUUU! San SHUUUUUUU!' which we did not understand and were looking at her with confused non-understanding eyes full of surprised wonder. Her voice was continuously rising until she was yelling at us and we came to understand that she didn't want 3Yuan, she never wanted 3Yuan (probably thinking bloody tourists, they all think we're stupid idiots here). The meal was now apparantely 30 Yuan. And so we took out our wallets again, gave her ten, ran to our bikes, followed by threatening (or that's what we thought they were since we did not understand a word) excited cries of the villagers and we pedaled as fast as we never did before not looking back.

Statistics so far:

Observations:
-these people can be so wonderfully wonderful and so amazingly horrible that you learn not be surprised at such moments and just enjoy them as they come, the whole package. Enjoy the spitting for it could be worse, they could be spitting at you not in front of you, you get to enjoy everybody staring at you for it should actually make you feel good about yourself, etc.
Statistics:
-one week in China, weight: 52kg (2kg loss), height: remains, colour of eyes: remains, colour of hair: remains blonde (timewise indefinitely), status: remains single.

Yangshuo

I cycled here, I cycled there, I cycled up, I cycled down and on the right side and on the left side and I cycled around and mostly I cycled in the opposite direction and I didn't cycle backwards.
This place is so beautiful, so amazingly beautiful that you could get so amazingly quickly bored of it. It is slightly like a Chinese Chamonix, full of cool suntanned exciting sexy backpackers with long hair and stubbles that smell as bad as you do, or look as if they smelled very bad as you also do look like you smell very bad (and don't), and also regular tourists who wear outfits so that you recognize that they are regular tourists and also some very rich tourists (whom you send friends with the gutts to do it(Rusty) to ask where are they from and why on earth they came to China) who have so much money that they probably fly from one place to another in a private jet and that is why they are capable of keeping such impecable looks as they do.

Have a real craving for a Snickers bar I saw in the shop.

Met a New York guy Eric with whom we went to look for and we found.
After visiting the Moon Hill Scenic Spot where we dared to live dangerously and climbed up the 'No Admission' path to the top, refused all offers of "Kók? Kók? Wotááá, wotááá??!!! Laytááá??? Kók???", after dinner (er, hullo, hullo...we ate a dog!!!) we set off in another direction and found the other end of the world.

I take pictures. More than there is the need to, I believe, only I wish that all, and none, could see what I am seeing when through my eyes all this quietly talks to my heart.

Yangshuo, the place where...

...you can become the master of Chinese cycling.
I have become the master of Chinese cycling, call me Dragon on Wheels!

Yangshuo, a magical place with energy buzzing in the air and where everybody fell a little bit in love.

The road to Guilin.

The other driver is asleep on the bed behind me. His feet smell.

I'd so like to know how to speak this language. It is such a pity I can't for I can't talk to people around me and let them know about how I feel and how happy I am to be here, or just talk to them. Now there is this girl in the bed on the right side of me and all we can do is smile at each other. I offered her some biscuits.
His feet really smell.

A fighting film is on.
Can't see much except for the guy-in-front-of-me's back of head and sometimes his hair too.
Maybe I'll try speaking to the girl anyway.

3am
Only God knows where we are and I smell. I smell real bad.Mmmmmmmm

Keep having v.vivid dreams and at times have got real problems realizing what is reality.
(I was supposed to go to a University-for one semester-in Romania-won a scholarship-with Brano, some ginger guy called Kamil and some other boy from our class and it felt like that was the real purpose of this journey of mine.
And there it is again..."chr chr chrrrrrrrrr'...aaaaand spit out of the window(what??? could have been the floor).

A woman keeps sneezing aaaaaaall night looooooong, I'd really like to tell her to blow her nose.

During the night, 8th to 9th of September.

"If you have to travel alone, travel in style."

Sleeper means a bus with beds. How grandeur!

They give you a bag to put your shoes-that you have to take off as soon as you step onto the bus, quite rightly as well-into, then you proceed to your bed on which there is a blanket and a Pokemon pillow and a TV in front of you (if you're lucky).
I am astonished, and for some reason also very proud.

About how I was driven to Wuzhou and all around Wuzhou and to a Wuzhou bus station and survived.

Every corner seems to be dug on, tiles and broken bits of concrete lie scattered around in the dust, however no workers seem to be working on it, no action going on, everything just is.
A cat tied with a thin pink string to a tree, meowing, possibly hungry.

I am starving. Again a victim of myself.
Yes, I shall walk first and eat later. Uhm. It is 12:50 now, my tummy is full of water (at least that, keep sweating like a somar v kufre, no need to peepee).

Just been to The Magical Something Pagoda.
Long forgotten, hidden at the end of the city park behind some trees and public toilets, brown leaves covering the chipped stained steps, now so lonely, empty, however it seems as if the walls could remember better times bearing respect and admiration.
A huge tortoise inhabiting its lonesome insides, a companion to the bored ticket guy, the only witnesses of the pagoda's forgotten existence.

It is starting to rain. I shall go.

Everybody spits snots.

Stood on the zebra crossing, hundreds of scooters mounted with one, two or three passengers, all wearing orange or red builders' helmets (a horse riding hat is also an option) go by or stand at the lights, and they look. Well, they look first, then they look once again and then they stare with this unintelligible expression on their face, can not put my finger on what it is.
Some smile, some say hello, some just stare, twist their heads as far as they can and they perhaps seem to wonder or contemplate, or just stare.

Zhaoqing bus station is starting to feel like my second home. everybody knows me (v. likely because I have been bugging them endlessly for the last 24 hours), still all seem v. friendly and helpful, they smile at me and wink and wave.

>>Getting a bus to Wuzhou and then to Guilin.

Ooops, the bus tickets also give you a seat number. Am being a v. annoying passenger. I think I smell too.

The Chinese characters do not feel so alien to me no more, they actually seem quite friendly, I only wonder what they mean.

This journey was fun!
I am very grateul for being sat at the main bus station at Wuzhou, what for a little while I wondered whether I ever would.

Our driver was a very kind man I got to find out and I am sure that he also is a very good driver too as I am still alive.

Most of the journey, or the part that I could observe in daylight (eventually being grateful for the night-not-light), curved and stretched and curved again down a dual carriage way with lots of holes in it and random dogs in the middle of it and endless numbers of poultry crossing it. The lines, i got to believe, were only used as some kind of (very) rough guidelines; everybody drives very safe, or perhaps rather to be safe. The point is to hoot, you can hoot for people to know that you're coming, you can hoot when overtaking someone in case the someone is not looking in the rear mirror, you can also hoot if you see a car coming onto the main road from a side road in case that driver is either looking in his rear mirror or is not looking in his rear mirror, neither in his side mirror, neither...looking period(the gees and the dogs dont get hooted at). All safe. Observation: repetitively the best way to drive appears to be the opposite way, in someones way (field, yard, etc), the "wrong" way they would say in the west(doh!).

The modern Chinese architecture strikes me as rather monstrous. Box shaped buildings covered in square or oblong variously coloured (mostly white, pink or blue) tiles, windows of which either were barred in which case they looked like prisons or were not and in that case they tented to look like public toilets.

(After the last stop before the last stop I found myself on the bus all by myself [after the skillful bus driver's chinese persuasive methods that i understood only just so they made me continue the risky journey(saying, "Guilin??Guilin??" pointing at his bus inside of his bus and I started to be slightly worried that he has fallen in love with me and wanted to drive me all the way to Guilin himself)] he just kept driving on and on and through the whole city of Wuzhou that looked like a second city on the other side of the hill but still, obviously (not so obviously at that moment), it was the same city, and after half an hour he was still driving me somewhere and I was so worried about where, telling myself in this quiet little inner voice that all is gonna be fine, that he really does have to do it, as in drive me all that far being all by self in the bus-which, as i eventually realized, he really did have to, and then, finally, he dropped me off at the long distance bus station where I patiently waited for the bus to Guilin and caused some minor havoc for simply just being there. In the waiting room, eating some bread with fried egg-whites in it to pass time I watched a Chinese history drama.

About the horrible dodgy landlady, smurf bins and a temple.

>> I have learned to keep small change on me for the bus drivers for that is what you are ought to do (not too sure how as seen no coins yet)

>>Do not panick!! Think! (rather tricky)
(there always is [must be??] a tourist centre)

>> Bargaining is fun-as long that you know you are not getting ripped off.(mmmm...Aim-learn to know when you're not getting ripped off.)

>> If you see lamps do not feed an unproven belief that they will be on when the night falls.*

Zhaoqing was a strange chaotic place with no hostel or any other cheap accommodation (the one that i knew of was shut because it was too cheap). Not really too much of a sightseeing scenic spot (v.popular expression, shall be used frequently), perhaps back in the day.
There were some helpful people there and some not so helpful, but at the end helpful anyway.
After an hour of contemplating over my issue with the Zhaoqing bus station employees this institution started to carry this air of security within it and so, feeling very strong and independent I was off towards my adventure, next destination-DinghuShan (¶©»§É½)．
As I got off the bus, still feeling in control of the situation, I was kidnapped by this man who looked like a sort of a mountain ranger and mountain rangers are supposed to be some kind of a centre of sophistication in their field, i believe. him and I bargained, some women came so we all bargained, they laughed and I laughed and suddenly I was being lead by this dodgy woman into the Dinghu Shan resort, consequently into this dodgy horrible hotel place with a horrible dodgy landlady.

Angry with self.

Thing's sorted though.
Self argued with horrible dodgy landlady, self reasoned, self argued some more and self left, Y50 stayed, but for the other Y50 I got a cute little room in a nice Youth Hostel substitute (with a free outdoor swimmingpool with a slide too!) altogether that was the initial dodgy-hotel-price anyway and a lesson learned.

Walked around and up Dinghu Shan and then it was dark (see 'things learned #4', *).
Found a temple on top of the mountain, all the tourists were gone, possibly watching a Chinese history drama, v.likely after having a stir fried dog with chicken feet for dinner, and so I sat on the top surrounded by the woods and the falling night and listened to the monks chanting. So peaceful.

Not so peaceful a walk down though(through the black woods not seeing, well, not even seeing my fingers touching the railings I was holding onto in panick and cramps)...
...this doesnt feel important, calm of my soul bringing me deep sleep and the sweetest dreams.

(after watching a Chinese history drama->they do fly!)

7th of September (about the 7th of September)

Or perhaps survive existencial crisis or die of starvation on a 6-hour journey???
I do not lose hope.

ENTRY-EXIT INSPECTION AND QUARANTINE
THE PEOPLE'S REPUBLIC OF CHINA
-HEALTH AND QUARANTINE DECLARATION FORM ON ENTRY
.
.
.
.
.
.
4. Please mark "V" before the items of following articles if you bring any of them:

- Plant - Microbes

- Plant Propagating Materials - Human Tissues



ehh?????


I have got this weird feeling that I should have obtained (will have to obtain) a LonelyPlanetDebilGuide.
Or perhaps the feeling is only the Lariam-induced-depression.

Go me today!
I have learned things!

7th september(about the 6th of September)

With Claudia we went looking for a TaiChi class, which we successfully did find after three quarters of an hour of wondering 20 metres around the place where it actually was held. However, no cramps, no cramps, at least for me. On the way chasing our destiny we walked down the Avenue of Stars and found hand prints of Jet Li and Tony Leung (yay yay yay!!!) and a place ready for Wong Kar Wai to have his hands printed on the ground. Feel v. content. (a question risen though-What is my destiny?)
Tai Chi was nice, too slow though, for old people.

Diiiim suuuuum, diiiiim suuuuum.

I witnessed myself to be a victim of a "jazykovy barier" for the woman at Hong Kong airport almost sent me to Zhongshan rather than Zhaoqing. I mean, these two words dont even sound similar( and I am a foreigner, they should!), and this is Hong Kong, this is where everybody is supposed to understand you, what on earth am I, poor lonesome soul, going to do all by myself in that great land of MiddleEarth (中国).
Missed my ferry, for indeed it does not go every hour as it does to Zhongshan, and so, one more night in the street lights of HongKong and tomorrow morning, off to the unknown.
(not scared. yet.)

Am doing real well, havent spent no money on useless things. So proud of self.
(4 weeks and 5 days to go though:-/)

The Rice Road: Chapter 2 (Hong Kong)

Now I am glad I stayed in Hong Kong.
Very nice but I think this is the last big city I am seeing before getting over to Shanghai...or even to Japan.
My last update for the next couple of weeks, unless I get extremely homesick and philantropic.
Hong Kong is hot, a little bit like Morrocco, too.
(loads of Arabic and Indian people talking to you on the streets trying to get you to buy '...copied rolex, watch, handbads, watch, copied watch...!!)
It's wonderfully hot, it's like an embrace, all around you, humid heat like a snake twisting all around you...
...need to run now...
baibai
(8181)

The Rice Road: Chapter 1/f

The blanket has been successfully kidnapped.
I am officially an outlaw now.

...walking...running...holding onto my bag...turning around, hair being blown around my face, just do not panick...run...

"Relax, the train will arrive in three minutes."

The Rice Road: Chapter 1/e

It is dark inside and I'm only guessing where to write, too lazy to get detangled from the blanets (from which one will be taken hostage)to put the light on.

We are escaping from the darkness, stars above us, in front of us we can already see the bright dusk of the east.

The Rice Road: Chapter 1/c and Chapter 1/d

The screens are here!

Safety instructions in Cantonese and Mandarin.
Not a word!!

The Rice Road: Chapter 1/b

Yes, but where are the screens?!?
(boohooohooooo...tears of surprised amazement and quiet childish anger).
I hope that at least the food will be nice.
Any food would be nice really.
Food would be nice.
Food nice.
Food...food ...food...food.
And screens.

The Rice Road: Chapter 1/a

In the queue for the check-in there was an asian girl with lots of bags and a boyfriend and it seemed so obvious that she was flying to Hong Kong with me and I was for sure going to make friends with her that now, already sat on the plane to Munich it is hard for me to fight my disappointment for she is not here. I keep looking towards the front door of our flying tube and she is still not coming. i'll just have to ask someone else how to say 'i'm hungry' in Chinese.

I think i am a true hero (secret one perhaps). Half an hour before getting onto the plane a little devil of a suspicion started ripeninginside my (rather twisted) mindthat the book i bought(as i refuse to fall into slavery of dependency upon DebilGuides)is quite poo. The book. I truly do hope it is only a bad feeling and the fact that it has no pictures and proper maps(also known as DebilMaps)actually does mean that the book is very good and very helpful (or maybe enriching and vitalising in a way?) and proves how very intelligent I am (or should be to manage that book).

I really am hungry.
And I really do not like horrible German stewardesses.

Except for being an intellectual (which you, of course, become automatically in such case as not having a DebilGuide in your possession), I think I do have everything.
My mOm has gone totally off the wall(bless) and so my backpack except for a sleeping bag and a yoga roll matt has: B12 vitamins, Schweden bitter, sun cream (that may also be a self tan spray as the man selling it to me made me really consider, or perhaps rather wonder about what I actually want to do with a sun cream and told me that the best way not to get suntanned is not to go in the sun), then there are tweezers, razor and mirror(whispers of old-day-Romanian-memories), water purifying tablets, antimalaria tablets, repelent (do things like that work for bed bugs...or a shoe maybe?), washing liquid, dry wash, sexy bag...and a towel as a proper hitchiker should have.

looked in the map and the book.
Now am really excited.

* an ugly german stewardess tolfd me to switch my phone off.

The Rice Road: Still Hong Kong

It is dark.
I'm in the dorm of the Garden Hostel, Papa came and switched the lights off.
It is dark and I should sleep but my mind is so full of lights and blicking pictures and noisy existence of the street below us, thus I find it impossible to concentrate on anything else but life.
My legs are swollen.
The trousers that could not stay folded under my knees and kept falling down, I find hard to get off as my calves have turned monstrous and ugly and horrible.
And this blanket definitely does have bed bugs.*
I so am going to get a haircut in Asia-with Claudia we saw two, uff uff, soooooo cute chinese hairdressers with long hair. And one of them looked at me. He looked at me, he looked at me!!!!!!!
I hope i can sleep now.
In the morning dim dum.

*ouch ouch ouch....

The Rice Road

...or The Way of The Prawn Cracker begins...

How it was when it was (post-croational times)

I havent written for quite a while. Not that there was nothing to write about only my mind I dont think was ready.
Bratislava was so much fun. A week of fulltime hedonism, with Baska we indeed had to work hard on keeping the alcohol level in our blood positively constant, wandering the lovely streets of the old town, spending our mornings or afternoons in the Downtown Backpackers Hostel, with Momo on our laps, just like now, reassuring ourselves about how wonderful Tequila Sunrise is.
And then Dan and Julie came. Spent time walking around the cafes and bars, what a stereotypical life we do lead indeed, went to a garden cinema and around town once again, and then the Primacionalny Palac and the unbelievably exciting Hall of Mirrors and Aligator at night with Slovak rock band live concert and borovicka and borovicka and borovicka and borovicka, go Dan!
With Baska we escaped the consuming life of the metropola, to save money indeed (as for me, in the peace of a quiet mountain town, to find a 3400Sk fine and lose my phone, all this on the same day, the birthday day!) and so we did.
I bought a pair fo trainers for 53Sk, socks including 57Sk (=1 pound) in Ziar nad Hronom!
But wine was too nice to leave as a part of our exclusive lives in Bratislava and birthday indeed is only once a year. Yum yum yum!
In vino veritas!
Barbequed at Baska's and then 'hajde' to BB to meet my grandma who surprised us with a very straight question,'So girls, when did you stop drinking, yesterday?'
And meet dad, and sister, and auntie and another grandma and another uncle and auntie, celebrate birthday once again and then again...mmmm...
And so it was and was, until now a lot more was and so I shall continue some other time and soon.