But a short one - because minds really shouldn't be blown - is just to note that the ever-kind Sylvia (the girl who helped me out in Hampi) is not, as I noted, Austrian, but actually Dutch. So there you are!
Ok! I must go and eat the souvlaki!
Andrew
(who doesn't know why he is signing off on his own blog...)
Thursday, March 29, 2007
2 posts in one day!
Only the earlier one was written whilst in incredible !ndia. Which is cheating, I suppose.
Also, people who are excited about Haran and Camboooodia will have to wait, as I don't have anything to offer you right now.
BUT I LOVE ATHENS!!!
It is super really wonderful. Honest. So! What can I tell you about Athens? First, paved stones, chilly weather (ok, not sooo much on the chilly), and beautiful monuments, marble and really really incredibly friendly people make this city really very nice. So nice, I FELL IN LOVE WITH IT.
But! I digress - so, I've spent the last few days rambling about with a superb pom called Sonia (I know, who would ever have thought you could have pom and very nice in THE SAME SENTENCE?) - with whom I saw the parthenon, the acropolis (well, they are all the same, really, but still), and an island (brifly. Very very briefly), and the back streets of Athens (NOT so super fun, but still).
Actually, I'm note really sure if that is Sonia with a "y" or an "i", so I might have to give differing versions (I know, what a champ I am for doing that. Still, such are the extents I go for gorgeous travelling companions) - you know, calling her Sonja, say. I couldn't actually work out how to put her name in again (and by "her" I mean Sonia. Or Sonja... you NEVER KNOW), which is why I had to add it so obviously (and by "it" I mean the attractive Sonia. Or maybe, just maaaybe, the also-attractive Sonja).
Anyway, the backpackers I'm in is really really great - plenty of cool people, lots of laughs etc - and I'm here for one more day before I go to santorini island for a night or three (or two!) and then onto the uk!
I know, action should really be some part of my name. But it's not. So we'll just have to live with Ganapathy (and seeing as my namesake got his head shorn off, and an elephant head put on, and hangs out with a rat familiar, really, let's face it, it's not too far from "action", eh?).
Ok, I'd write more about Athens (and it is a really nice city. I like it very much - just that wanky feeling of being one with the socrates & the plato is enough for me), but I have OODLES of catching up to do. Like, emails, and news, and comics, and even, well, blog writing. But I'm pretty done with that... NOW!
Also, people who are excited about Haran and Camboooodia will have to wait, as I don't have anything to offer you right now.
BUT I LOVE ATHENS!!!
It is super really wonderful. Honest. So! What can I tell you about Athens? First, paved stones, chilly weather (ok, not sooo much on the chilly), and beautiful monuments, marble and really really incredibly friendly people make this city really very nice. So nice, I FELL IN LOVE WITH IT.
But! I digress - so, I've spent the last few days rambling about with a superb pom called Sonia (I know, who would ever have thought you could have pom and very nice in THE SAME SENTENCE?) - with whom I saw the parthenon, the acropolis (well, they are all the same, really, but still), and an island (brifly. Very very briefly), and the back streets of Athens (NOT so super fun, but still).
Actually, I'm note really sure if that is Sonia with a "y" or an "i", so I might have to give differing versions (I know, what a champ I am for doing that. Still, such are the extents I go for gorgeous travelling companions) - you know, calling her Sonja, say. I couldn't actually work out how to put her name in again (and by "her" I mean Sonia. Or Sonja... you NEVER KNOW), which is why I had to add it so obviously (and by "it" I mean the attractive Sonia. Or maybe, just maaaybe, the also-attractive Sonja).
Anyway, the backpackers I'm in is really really great - plenty of cool people, lots of laughs etc - and I'm here for one more day before I go to santorini island for a night or three (or two!) and then onto the uk!
I know, action should really be some part of my name. But it's not. So we'll just have to live with Ganapathy (and seeing as my namesake got his head shorn off, and an elephant head put on, and hangs out with a rat familiar, really, let's face it, it's not too far from "action", eh?).
Ok, I'd write more about Athens (and it is a really nice city. I like it very much - just that wanky feeling of being one with the socrates & the plato is enough for me), but I have OODLES of catching up to do. Like, emails, and news, and comics, and even, well, blog writing. But I'm pretty done with that... NOW!
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
I'm listening to the macarena!
Also, it is 5am here in !ndia. And I can't get to sleep. So that means that, for the readers of the blog, there is now Andrew! all day round! That's right, this is the earliest post yet!
Ok, so, I've been throwing around this idea of buying and selling jewellery (buy in !ndia, sell in London) for a while now... and honestly, I can't get the numbers to work. Much.
I mean, sheah, I end up making a bit of money from it, but it's honestly not enough money, right now, to justify the bother. About, what, 800 aussie dollars? And god knows how long i'd have to sell for it to work. Plus, I'd have to sit and haggle around with the delhi locals here, and I hate doing that.
Actually, it's incredibly good practice, and I'm glad I took the time to do it. Today, for instance, I was quoted a 'fair price, meester, you come back for more! You see, I give you price, and you come back, and we all make money'
Long boring story short, he was wrong, his price was too high, and I dropped it by 25%. Then I had to leave because he dropped down too quick, so I knew I could'a dropped it by about 50%. I much like my other dealer friend Anita better, who talks all the time and then charges 5 times what anyone else does, because she thinks I don't know anything.
So, the new plan is to see the goddamn himalayas instead. I think we can all agree that it is better to see mountains than buy jewellery. And I can always buy jewels in the mountains.
Oh. Wait, all the flights there are gone. Damn. Ok, ummm.... help?
Oh, and another thing:
all of my earlier pictures are gone. I don't know how, or why, but they are. Including me with that dude, Govindaaaah. There's only one thing to do, and that is to put up the photos I took of camboooodia, and Haran, because pictures with either of those two in it can only rock.
Ok, so, I've been throwing around this idea of buying and selling jewellery (buy in !ndia, sell in London) for a while now... and honestly, I can't get the numbers to work. Much.
I mean, sheah, I end up making a bit of money from it, but it's honestly not enough money, right now, to justify the bother. About, what, 800 aussie dollars? And god knows how long i'd have to sell for it to work. Plus, I'd have to sit and haggle around with the delhi locals here, and I hate doing that.
Actually, it's incredibly good practice, and I'm glad I took the time to do it. Today, for instance, I was quoted a 'fair price, meester, you come back for more! You see, I give you price, and you come back, and we all make money'
Long boring story short, he was wrong, his price was too high, and I dropped it by 25%. Then I had to leave because he dropped down too quick, so I knew I could'a dropped it by about 50%. I much like my other dealer friend Anita better, who talks all the time and then charges 5 times what anyone else does, because she thinks I don't know anything.
So, the new plan is to see the goddamn himalayas instead. I think we can all agree that it is better to see mountains than buy jewellery. And I can always buy jewels in the mountains.
Oh. Wait, all the flights there are gone. Damn. Ok, ummm.... help?
Oh, and another thing:
all of my earlier pictures are gone. I don't know how, or why, but they are. Including me with that dude, Govindaaaah. There's only one thing to do, and that is to put up the photos I took of camboooodia, and Haran, because pictures with either of those two in it can only rock.
Monday, March 19, 2007
Ok, so I got stuff to write
I know I said I'd update today... and I am, see? But not only am i uaing this crazy french computer, but I'm also still a wuss and not up for more earnest writing.
I don't even know what to do with é,ö and ä.
So, back to the last few days. Well, let's jump back in time to Hampi, which I should cover briefly thusly:
I saw stones and old towers and a market place (ancient) that looked straight out of rome, spent large portions of 2 days on my back resting from back pain, argued furiously with cheating indians who claimed that they could add extra money to the PRINTED MAXIMUM RETAIL ORICE OF DRINKS because of 'cooling charges' (ie, refrigeration, in case some idiot savant just... sorry, idiot savànt [they are smart like that] just wandered here). Best 'cooling charge' scam? The one where they argued that the refrigeration of ICE CREAM had a COOLING CHARGE. Say what?
And super thanks to a really nice Austrian called Sylvia who made sure I was ok most times during this... no, I don't yet know how to exclaim on this thing. But I would have, just then.
Tomorrow, dear readers, I'll give you an insight into an ashram, what appears to be very much a personality cult, a hypocritical teacher, and how I planned to Escape(exclamation mark) from the ashram... up until I realised I could just, y'know, walk out of the damn place. They don't make these places like they used to.
Actually, tomorrow is today (i mean, it always is, in a weird philosophical way, but right now it's more that i wrote the above yesterday):
So, taken with the eagerness of a kid doing a 'what i did on my holidays' report, here is my 'what i did with monks' report:
Arrived at 5am. Yep, the bus from Hampi (which was NOT comfy) drops me in B'lore at 5 in the morning, and after a LONG tuk tuk ride, I get to the foundation HQ at 6 or so. Did I say this place was big? Because it is MAMMOTH. It is something like 260 acres, this yogi man is not suffering for a cause here. Anyway, I register, am given my own room (shower, toilet, beds, its ok) and then go and get some food.
The canteen hall is pretty busy, as it is brekkie time, and there are all sorts of devotees wanting food for their meditational powers. Food is a mix of yellow and, umm, other colors that don't lend well to eating, and it tastes like it was cooked in a giant pot by a large indian who doesn't care how long carrots, broccoli, rice or water take to cook. He just cooks them.
I look forward to meeting that indian, we both have similar cooking styles.
So - i go to class. The meditational class is all about a few things:
1. The bleeding obvious, such as
a) you are responsible for all your actions (AND your inactions, but I thought better of pointing out to the teacher that my inactions were really actions anyway. She's not the intellect-discourse type)
2. Breathing to cure back pain, hepatitis, madness and other which
a) didn't help my backpain.
3. Live for... the moment(em)
a) which I already know as I have seen Antony Robbins on T.V. But it's not a bad message.
So it was a good start. The teacher we had used a mixture of intimidation, bullying and lying to get people to do things and make us all comply, which was a nice touch, i thought. She looked like she was going to have an egg (as in, lay one, not casually order one. Because you can't, as the place is vegan) everytime anyone did anything that wasn't 100% part of the plan. Turning up 5 minutes late would get you a stern rebuking, not performing 'sabbaddy blabbady' (whatever) (it's when you clean up the pans, or sweep the floor, pretty much work as a paying servant... sorry, when you become 'responsible' for the centre, and so learn more from it) would get a sterner one, and not turning up to the weird cult-following sing-along at the end of the night would get you totally blasted by our teacher (exclamation mark).
Christ, how do french type passionately without an exclamation mark key?
The thing was, she never did ANY of these herself. When she was late we were just meant to take it, and she had the GALL to get angry at one poor girl (who later quit) for not going to the sing along when teacher herself hadn't gone to it(em). Normally I would have pointed this one out to her, but seeing as *I* hadn't gone along, I didn't know. I just wasn't so crazy as to honestly tell a sincerely deranged woman I hadn't spent 2 hours singing the previous night.
Aside from my teacher, the rest of the class were really really nice people, who were just trying to get by with their lives. I talked to most of them and, well, they were by and large just wanting to get a calmer life and enjoy themselves more. Other people I met at the centre seemed, generally, sane, and one was even a trained osteopath who took the time to give me a great 40 min massage, free(em)
OH HOLY MOOMOO THANK GOD I FOUND THE EXCLAMATION MARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, let's start cooking with a little something I call... gasoleeeeeeeene, eh?
So! (feels so so good) first up - typing? With no '!'? It's pretty hard. Secondly, I totally took the teacher to task a few times (when she answered her mobile phone in class, for exsample, when before she would confiscate a student's mobile if it went off), and BOY! She was not one with the world, or ether, or whatever.
I believe the term is minging, manky, or maybe even snarky... in oz, we'd say bonzo (I think. I don't know, I never said it, but maybe YOU have). Whatever it was, our teacher needed anger management therapy.
Anyway, the exciting things that happened were me making elaborate plans to flee only to
a) be offered a free massage, so decided to stay one more day for it and
b) realising I just could walk away. No laser beams, no nothing. Pffft.
Ummmm, and today? Well! There are plans to buy some indian jewellery, but i'm finding that indians think i'm a goon and want to charge me lots for their b-grade stuff. Also, they lie CONSTANTLY to me about caring about quality, and how much they want me to be happy, all the while charging 3, 4, 5 times more!
Which I know, because I am not a total goon. But more on that later!
God, I've missed you mr exclamation mark! Don't leave me again.
I don't even know what to do with é,ö and ä.
So, back to the last few days. Well, let's jump back in time to Hampi, which I should cover briefly thusly:
I saw stones and old towers and a market place (ancient) that looked straight out of rome, spent large portions of 2 days on my back resting from back pain, argued furiously with cheating indians who claimed that they could add extra money to the PRINTED MAXIMUM RETAIL ORICE OF DRINKS because of 'cooling charges' (ie, refrigeration, in case some idiot savant just... sorry, idiot savànt [they are smart like that] just wandered here). Best 'cooling charge' scam? The one where they argued that the refrigeration of ICE CREAM had a COOLING CHARGE. Say what?
And super thanks to a really nice Austrian called Sylvia who made sure I was ok most times during this... no, I don't yet know how to exclaim on this thing. But I would have, just then.
Tomorrow, dear readers, I'll give you an insight into an ashram, what appears to be very much a personality cult, a hypocritical teacher, and how I planned to Escape(exclamation mark) from the ashram... up until I realised I could just, y'know, walk out of the damn place. They don't make these places like they used to.
Actually, tomorrow is today (i mean, it always is, in a weird philosophical way, but right now it's more that i wrote the above yesterday):
So, taken with the eagerness of a kid doing a 'what i did on my holidays' report, here is my 'what i did with monks' report:
Arrived at 5am. Yep, the bus from Hampi (which was NOT comfy) drops me in B'lore at 5 in the morning, and after a LONG tuk tuk ride, I get to the foundation HQ at 6 or so. Did I say this place was big? Because it is MAMMOTH. It is something like 260 acres, this yogi man is not suffering for a cause here. Anyway, I register, am given my own room (shower, toilet, beds, its ok) and then go and get some food.
The canteen hall is pretty busy, as it is brekkie time, and there are all sorts of devotees wanting food for their meditational powers. Food is a mix of yellow and, umm, other colors that don't lend well to eating, and it tastes like it was cooked in a giant pot by a large indian who doesn't care how long carrots, broccoli, rice or water take to cook. He just cooks them.
I look forward to meeting that indian, we both have similar cooking styles.
So - i go to class. The meditational class is all about a few things:
1. The bleeding obvious, such as
a) you are responsible for all your actions (AND your inactions, but I thought better of pointing out to the teacher that my inactions were really actions anyway. She's not the intellect-discourse type)
2. Breathing to cure back pain, hepatitis, madness and other which
a) didn't help my backpain.
3. Live for... the moment(em)
a) which I already know as I have seen Antony Robbins on T.V. But it's not a bad message.
So it was a good start. The teacher we had used a mixture of intimidation, bullying and lying to get people to do things and make us all comply, which was a nice touch, i thought. She looked like she was going to have an egg (as in, lay one, not casually order one. Because you can't, as the place is vegan) everytime anyone did anything that wasn't 100% part of the plan. Turning up 5 minutes late would get you a stern rebuking, not performing 'sabbaddy blabbady' (whatever) (it's when you clean up the pans, or sweep the floor, pretty much work as a paying servant... sorry, when you become 'responsible' for the centre, and so learn more from it) would get a sterner one, and not turning up to the weird cult-following sing-along at the end of the night would get you totally blasted by our teacher (exclamation mark).
Christ, how do french type passionately without an exclamation mark key?
The thing was, she never did ANY of these herself. When she was late we were just meant to take it, and she had the GALL to get angry at one poor girl (who later quit) for not going to the sing along when teacher herself hadn't gone to it(em). Normally I would have pointed this one out to her, but seeing as *I* hadn't gone along, I didn't know. I just wasn't so crazy as to honestly tell a sincerely deranged woman I hadn't spent 2 hours singing the previous night.
Aside from my teacher, the rest of the class were really really nice people, who were just trying to get by with their lives. I talked to most of them and, well, they were by and large just wanting to get a calmer life and enjoy themselves more. Other people I met at the centre seemed, generally, sane, and one was even a trained osteopath who took the time to give me a great 40 min massage, free(em)
OH HOLY MOOMOO THANK GOD I FOUND THE EXCLAMATION MARK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Ok, let's start cooking with a little something I call... gasoleeeeeeeene, eh?
So! (feels so so good) first up - typing? With no '!'? It's pretty hard. Secondly, I totally took the teacher to task a few times (when she answered her mobile phone in class, for exsample, when before she would confiscate a student's mobile if it went off), and BOY! She was not one with the world, or ether, or whatever.
I believe the term is minging, manky, or maybe even snarky... in oz, we'd say bonzo (I think. I don't know, I never said it, but maybe YOU have). Whatever it was, our teacher needed anger management therapy.
Anyway, the exciting things that happened were me making elaborate plans to flee only to
a) be offered a free massage, so decided to stay one more day for it and
b) realising I just could walk away. No laser beams, no nothing. Pffft.
Ummmm, and today? Well! There are plans to buy some indian jewellery, but i'm finding that indians think i'm a goon and want to charge me lots for their b-grade stuff. Also, they lie CONSTANTLY to me about caring about quality, and how much they want me to be happy, all the while charging 3, 4, 5 times more!
Which I know, because I am not a total goon. But more on that later!
God, I've missed you mr exclamation mark! Don't leave me again.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
Escape! From the clutches of castle Sri Sri
or,
"Tinkle, tinkle: how I found a new appellation for immigration forms"
The new appellation being, of course, "sri sri", which is seemingly one that is self-applied, and not really honorific at all. I'm sure the greeks will totally love Sri Sri Andrew Iyer when he burns the house down in Greece. Metaphorically. I won't literally burn houses down, because that is ILLEGAL, and people just shouldn't do that sort of thing.
Unless it is this man's house, and you are in !ndia, in which case it is a-ok.
So, really, there are a few things I should clear up.
The first is, after all that galavanting around? Being tougher than all the men out there? Riding on an indian train in general class for 12 hours (ok, I'm pretty proud of that, but anyway)? Yeah, well, after all that my body decided that I was a complete lunatic and decided to:
a) have back spasms that were a real pain... in the... back.
b) get the 'flu
At which point I discovered that the only men I was tougher than were men made of klee-nex. Not the real men. The men who do the nations of the world proud be reading this blog. Because those men? They are real men. Men like you, reader. Unless you are a woman. Then they aren't men like you at all. Because they are MANLY men, and you are womanly women. If you're a woman. I could go on like this for a while, but I don't think that really gets anyone anywhere, does it?
So! I checked into the meditation centre of a Sri-sri here in incredible !ndia, to learn... well, stuff. I really didn't know much about the course, except it was meant to be good. And the pamphlet at the centre said it could, well, do lots.
Umm, ok, so the internet cafe is closing. so i'll actually WRITE something that I DID tomorrow. Maybe.
"Tinkle, tinkle: how I found a new appellation for immigration forms"
The new appellation being, of course, "sri sri", which is seemingly one that is self-applied, and not really honorific at all. I'm sure the greeks will totally love Sri Sri Andrew Iyer when he burns the house down in Greece. Metaphorically. I won't literally burn houses down, because that is ILLEGAL, and people just shouldn't do that sort of thing.
Unless it is this man's house, and you are in !ndia, in which case it is a-ok.
So, really, there are a few things I should clear up.
The first is, after all that galavanting around? Being tougher than all the men out there? Riding on an indian train in general class for 12 hours (ok, I'm pretty proud of that, but anyway)? Yeah, well, after all that my body decided that I was a complete lunatic and decided to:
a) have back spasms that were a real pain... in the... back.
b) get the 'flu
At which point I discovered that the only men I was tougher than were men made of klee-nex. Not the real men. The men who do the nations of the world proud be reading this blog. Because those men? They are real men. Men like you, reader. Unless you are a woman. Then they aren't men like you at all. Because they are MANLY men, and you are womanly women. If you're a woman. I could go on like this for a while, but I don't think that really gets anyone anywhere, does it?
So! I checked into the meditation centre of a Sri-sri here in incredible !ndia, to learn... well, stuff. I really didn't know much about the course, except it was meant to be good. And the pamphlet at the centre said it could, well, do lots.
Umm, ok, so the internet cafe is closing. so i'll actually WRITE something that I DID tomorrow. Maybe.
Monday, March 12, 2007
I am a harder man than you
Ok, so to cover what has occurred in the last few days REALLY quickly:
I slept for 4 hours over the last, what, 48 hours? Yeah, that's about right.
I travelled for 30 of those 48 hours.
I visited the hindu-only temple of Sri Krishna, in Guruvayoor. "How did you get in, whitefellah?" you ask? By doing it how James Bond would. I flicked open my passport and said "Iyer. Ganapathy Iyer." Hot diggity-damn if that didn't get me into that temple pronto!
Really a very nice temple, said a quick prayer for my family here, slept under a god's statue, and then went on my way. Again, more details when I have slept.
Travelled "general class" on an indian train for 12 hours. Yes, I am that bad. I shared a little bunk with an Indian (who kept on wanting my luggage "on floor! You put on floor!", but then I'd never see it again, so it stayed on the bunk with me). Me and the luggage at one end, him at the other. No one slept. Well, the people on the floor slept well, but I din't.
Travelled on public bus for another 11 hours to get to Hampi, which is where I now am. THAT was fun. And sleepless.
Sat and talked to some nice people. Alot. Seeing as I haven't talked to anyone really for a few days.
And typed on this blog. If I put everything I did down, well, people might just plain old explode from the excitement! I don't like that, so I won't.
Tomorrow: to do stuff in Hampi, or to sleep? I don't know! But you will, come night-time!
I slept for 4 hours over the last, what, 48 hours? Yeah, that's about right.
I travelled for 30 of those 48 hours.
I visited the hindu-only temple of Sri Krishna, in Guruvayoor. "How did you get in, whitefellah?" you ask? By doing it how James Bond would. I flicked open my passport and said "Iyer. Ganapathy Iyer." Hot diggity-damn if that didn't get me into that temple pronto!
Really a very nice temple, said a quick prayer for my family here, slept under a god's statue, and then went on my way. Again, more details when I have slept.
Travelled "general class" on an indian train for 12 hours. Yes, I am that bad. I shared a little bunk with an Indian (who kept on wanting my luggage "on floor! You put on floor!", but then I'd never see it again, so it stayed on the bunk with me). Me and the luggage at one end, him at the other. No one slept. Well, the people on the floor slept well, but I din't.
Travelled on public bus for another 11 hours to get to Hampi, which is where I now am. THAT was fun. And sleepless.
Sat and talked to some nice people. Alot. Seeing as I haven't talked to anyone really for a few days.
And typed on this blog. If I put everything I did down, well, people might just plain old explode from the excitement! I don't like that, so I won't.
Tomorrow: to do stuff in Hampi, or to sleep? I don't know! But you will, come night-time!
Friday, March 9, 2007
Franz
Do you like this name better?
THREE POSTS IN ONE DAY!
Who else does that? And where do they do it? That's right, only at MOART do we PUSH THE BOUNDARIES OF BLOGGING to give you, the reader, the unparalleled blogging experience that YOU deserve.
And you DO deserve it. Because you are worth it.
It is photo time, and so here are photos - of triva night at Inn on the Green.
I really only ever thought of Tetley's as a tea. How wrong I have been...
Yep, that's it. The call has been made - el prezidentay is on the move. Operation:Mac-Attack is go! Close, I repeat, Close All Pub Doors. Close them HARD.
Steve, Paul (who looks like he was really struggling there. Like the British Cricket Team, I think) and me. We got people to think Paul was Paul Collingwood at the Aussie high comm, and a girl wanted his autograph!
Even the camera had a few. Feel it for the camera... he's been having a Bad Night.
I don't know... can YOU think of a smoking-er photo to end a day's bloggin with? Because I can't. Oh! The rocking guy on the left is Navim! Then me! Then Steve!
Ohshit. After putting that photo up, it got so hot the monitor melted... I've got to run now!
Hot Diggity-Damn!
THREE POSTS IN ONE DAY!
Who else does that? And where do they do it? That's right, only at MOART do we PUSH THE BOUNDARIES OF BLOGGING to give you, the reader, the unparalleled blogging experience that YOU deserve.
And you DO deserve it. Because you are worth it.
It is photo time, and so here are photos - of triva night at Inn on the Green.
I really only ever thought of Tetley's as a tea. How wrong I have been...
Yep, that's it. The call has been made - el prezidentay is on the move. Operation:Mac-Attack is go! Close, I repeat, Close All Pub Doors. Close them HARD.
Steve, Paul (who looks like he was really struggling there. Like the British Cricket Team, I think) and me. We got people to think Paul was Paul Collingwood at the Aussie high comm, and a girl wanted his autograph!
Even the camera had a few. Feel it for the camera... he's been having a Bad Night.
I don't know... can YOU think of a smoking-er photo to end a day's bloggin with? Because I can't. Oh! The rocking guy on the left is Navim! Then me! Then Steve!
Ohshit. After putting that photo up, it got so hot the monitor melted... I've got to run now!
Hot Diggity-Damn!
2 posts in one day
And this is the second one. Because BOTH POSTS TOGETHER ARE TOO BIG FOR THIS BLOG. That's right. And this blog is big, so these are some pretty big posts we're talking.
Ok, so I should probably just add a quick post about Navim, a TOTALLY TOP GUY who runs a Warhammer painting website here. I don't think that my vast readership includes people who will want to use his service - but if you are wanting to paint your figurines, I really recommend him.
Not only because the quality is a-grade, but because Navim is an excellent guy and dammit, there aren't enough of them around anymore. We should run breeding programs or something. Like Hitler did, only better.
Because we won't be breeding Nazis... we'll be breeding Decent Men! For use in my new Decent Men Clinic in England, which I will run. And make money with. Hot Diggity Damn! I am just BUILT for making money with ideas this smoking, hey?
But wait! How great a guy is Navim? You ask? Really? Cool.
He's this great. Now, I can't actually SEE this video I'm linking to, I'm just relying on Navim here. But YOU should watch this video. It will blow your mind*
There is also this pic, which may or may not blow your mind. It might even be a movie! I don't know! I can't see any of these from this internet cafe. The suspense! WHO KNOWS WHAT IT COULD BE??
Hot Diggitty-Damn!
Also, these videos were made on a trivia night when, again, we didn't win. But we drank alcohol, and even made funny remarks, and that's what matters, At The End Of The Day. As well as having your name in His book, but that's really the REAL end of the days, and Arnie will save us all anyway.
Yeah - so we were in the pub, and they LOCK US IN. Because the "President" of Sri Lanka is driving his car around outside. I don't know this guy at all. But that's the prez. Anyway, any prez who drives his car around at closing time so that pub patrons get locked in the pub? He's a-ok in my book.
This other chap (who I have called Paul, as that is his name) (and who is also a top bloke... honestly, Steve, Navim, Paul, ME, ..."Sri Lanka, where all the top blokes party" should totally be the new tourist campaign by the Sri-Lankan, ummm, tourist board.) - Paul! Yeah, Paul was once walking down the street when el-prez decided to drive out for a take-away maccas (man, he guzzles that stuff hard - that was also the real reason for his pub-closing-time driving shennanigans) and the security people MADE HIM FACE THE WALL.
Like he'd been a Bad Boy in school. Apparantly he was close to tears - that naughty corner stuff really screws with your mind.
So, Sri Lanka? Friendly people, good night life, Western style city with Asian-style prices, a prez who gets a mac-attack and drives his car around so you get locked in the pub, great beaches and the bad-assest mountain I've ever climbed - it's !ndia to the power of INFINITY+ ONE.
Ok, I'm gonna go watch some cricket!
* Please only watch this video if you want to blow your mind. I won't be responsible for any unforeseen mind blowing-ness.
Ok, so I should probably just add a quick post about Navim, a TOTALLY TOP GUY who runs a Warhammer painting website here. I don't think that my vast readership includes people who will want to use his service - but if you are wanting to paint your figurines, I really recommend him.
Not only because the quality is a-grade, but because Navim is an excellent guy and dammit, there aren't enough of them around anymore. We should run breeding programs or something. Like Hitler did, only better.
Because we won't be breeding Nazis... we'll be breeding Decent Men! For use in my new Decent Men Clinic in England, which I will run. And make money with. Hot Diggity Damn! I am just BUILT for making money with ideas this smoking, hey?
But wait! How great a guy is Navim? You ask? Really? Cool.
He's this great. Now, I can't actually SEE this video I'm linking to, I'm just relying on Navim here. But YOU should watch this video. It will blow your mind*
There is also this pic, which may or may not blow your mind. It might even be a movie! I don't know! I can't see any of these from this internet cafe. The suspense! WHO KNOWS WHAT IT COULD BE??
Hot Diggitty-Damn!
Also, these videos were made on a trivia night when, again, we didn't win. But we drank alcohol, and even made funny remarks, and that's what matters, At The End Of The Day. As well as having your name in His book, but that's really the REAL end of the days, and Arnie will save us all anyway.
Yeah - so we were in the pub, and they LOCK US IN. Because the "President" of Sri Lanka is driving his car around outside. I don't know this guy at all. But that's the prez. Anyway, any prez who drives his car around at closing time so that pub patrons get locked in the pub? He's a-ok in my book.
This other chap (who I have called Paul, as that is his name) (and who is also a top bloke... honestly, Steve, Navim, Paul, ME, ..."Sri Lanka, where all the top blokes party" should totally be the new tourist campaign by the Sri-Lankan, ummm, tourist board.) - Paul! Yeah, Paul was once walking down the street when el-prez decided to drive out for a take-away maccas (man, he guzzles that stuff hard - that was also the real reason for his pub-closing-time driving shennanigans) and the security people MADE HIM FACE THE WALL.
Like he'd been a Bad Boy in school. Apparantly he was close to tears - that naughty corner stuff really screws with your mind.
So, Sri Lanka? Friendly people, good night life, Western style city with Asian-style prices, a prez who gets a mac-attack and drives his car around so you get locked in the pub, great beaches and the bad-assest mountain I've ever climbed - it's !ndia to the power of INFINITY+ ONE.
Ok, I'm gonna go watch some cricket!
* Please only watch this video if you want to blow your mind. I won't be responsible for any unforeseen mind blowing-ness.
Thursday, March 8, 2007
Yo Yo Yo YO
I know, my post names are lame. Fine, next time I'll call one "Billy" or maybe "Phillip". Would that please you? Brutes.
So! The Aussie embassy was quite fun - I went swimming in their pool (why does the Aussie embassy have a pool? - I was JUST about to do one of those "you ask" things, and then wax lyrical about the asking, but I'm not - it also has a nice pub area, a gorgeous verandah/terracey thinggummy, and other. Small pool, but nice), and partook of their alcoholic beverages.
The plan now is to go to Guruvayoor, then Hampi, THEN meditate in Bangalore, THEN to Delhi, THEN to Leh (to see the himalayas) and FINALLY fly off to Greece. I was thinking of going back down to the beach with Steve, who will be the KING of the beach when he gets there. No kidding, it will be Steve and some 25 women. I don't know why he came up, but I think it might have been for me! I know, anxious much.
JOKE!
Actually, on the safe side, from now on, whenever I make a joke, I will write "JOKE" after it. Just so you know.
Now onto religion - actually, no. No, nope, nada. I was going to comment on one of those church saying things that I saw on the way here - it confused me no end, more befitting the Riddler than anything else. But it is also a direct quote from the Bible, and that's just something I'm not going to go into here. Which is a shame that I can make gay reference, jump into high comm pools and build sand castles, but I can't comment on the bible. It makes you think, you know?
Sex.
Whoops! 3 second rule.
*ahem*
Ok, so I have some flights to book, and then carry on dating destiny. She's a fickle one, Destiny, but well worth it.
Oh! And that whole bible quote thing - there is an Online Bible! I know, I can now read up on ALL my favourite bible quotes, and share them with friends and family. Join me here!
And Steve's blog is also pretty cool. Just thought I'd add that, y'know?
So! The Aussie embassy was quite fun - I went swimming in their pool (why does the Aussie embassy have a pool? - I was JUST about to do one of those "you ask" things, and then wax lyrical about the asking, but I'm not - it also has a nice pub area, a gorgeous verandah/terracey thinggummy, and other. Small pool, but nice), and partook of their alcoholic beverages.
The plan now is to go to Guruvayoor, then Hampi, THEN meditate in Bangalore, THEN to Delhi, THEN to Leh (to see the himalayas) and FINALLY fly off to Greece. I was thinking of going back down to the beach with Steve, who will be the KING of the beach when he gets there. No kidding, it will be Steve and some 25 women. I don't know why he came up, but I think it might have been for me! I know, anxious much.
JOKE!
Actually, on the safe side, from now on, whenever I make a joke, I will write "JOKE" after it. Just so you know.
Now onto religion - actually, no. No, nope, nada. I was going to comment on one of those church saying things that I saw on the way here - it confused me no end, more befitting the Riddler than anything else. But it is also a direct quote from the Bible, and that's just something I'm not going to go into here. Which is a shame that I can make gay reference, jump into high comm pools and build sand castles, but I can't comment on the bible. It makes you think, you know?
Sex.
Whoops! 3 second rule.
*ahem*
Ok, so I have some flights to book, and then carry on dating destiny. She's a fickle one, Destiny, but well worth it.
Oh! And that whole bible quote thing - there is an Online Bible! I know, I can now read up on ALL my favourite bible quotes, and share them with friends and family. Join me here!
And Steve's blog is also pretty cool. Just thought I'd add that, y'know?
General Thoughts
Ok! That out of the way, let's get down with some indian/sri-lankan thoughts I've been having. This was all borne from three things
1. I met up with "mr guide" - the man with whom I described an account a few posts back. AGAIN he says hello, where are you from... as though he doesn't remember our mad cap antics! Although, in truth, they weren't really that mad cap. Or maybe they were? It depends on your mad cap definition.
Only this time... well, last time he was a gardener, who worked at gardens and was going home, his family lived in Kandi etc etc. But this time (the conversation wasn't as long, as I was bored of him) we were chatting at a time when he should have been working! Call me suspicious sally, but I think he really makes his living by waiting at the same spot, to walk besides tourists & give sad stories to them!!
2. Back when I was in Una Watuna, I was accessing the internet, and could overhear a woman bargaining with a tourist agent. She was trying to get the price of a trip to some wildlife reserve down... and he wasn't budging. Eventually, he asks her where she is from - and she says the UK.
3. Tanya (from Goa) pretty much summerised to me why they keep on asking where you are from:
"It's because then they can work out how much money they can get from you." which, while flabbergasting in it's simplicity & duplicity, is also pretty accurate. IF you are a UK-type, AND you are reading this blog (why, by the way?) AND you go to india/sri-lanka... don't bargain if you are going to say you are from the UK. EVERYbody knows that the UK pound is stronger than superman right now... you won't get very far. Try Uzbekistani... they don't know WHERE the hell that is.
Ummm... I totally forgot where I was going with this one. Ok! Off to the aussie embassy for drinks tonight.
Cheers!
1. I met up with "mr guide" - the man with whom I described an account a few posts back. AGAIN he says hello, where are you from... as though he doesn't remember our mad cap antics! Although, in truth, they weren't really that mad cap. Or maybe they were? It depends on your mad cap definition.
Only this time... well, last time he was a gardener, who worked at gardens and was going home, his family lived in Kandi etc etc. But this time (the conversation wasn't as long, as I was bored of him) we were chatting at a time when he should have been working! Call me suspicious sally, but I think he really makes his living by waiting at the same spot, to walk besides tourists & give sad stories to them!!
2. Back when I was in Una Watuna, I was accessing the internet, and could overhear a woman bargaining with a tourist agent. She was trying to get the price of a trip to some wildlife reserve down... and he wasn't budging. Eventually, he asks her where she is from - and she says the UK.
3. Tanya (from Goa) pretty much summerised to me why they keep on asking where you are from:
"It's because then they can work out how much money they can get from you." which, while flabbergasting in it's simplicity & duplicity, is also pretty accurate. IF you are a UK-type, AND you are reading this blog (why, by the way?) AND you go to india/sri-lanka... don't bargain if you are going to say you are from the UK. EVERYbody knows that the UK pound is stronger than superman right now... you won't get very far. Try Uzbekistani... they don't know WHERE the hell that is.
Ummm... I totally forgot where I was going with this one. Ok! Off to the aussie embassy for drinks tonight.
Cheers!
Wednesday, March 7, 2007
Clearing stuff up
Ok, just a small clarifying post here:
When I sigh after writing Steve's name? - I'm not actually really sighing. I am, how would you say it, pretending to sigh. For comedic effect. I know, I know, that kind of comedy wasn't hip in the, say, 60s and 70s, but hopefully we've all grown past that.
So, for the record, I did not have relations with that man.
Now it's off for a tasty quiche for lunch, and then, oooh! Theres a "Sex & the City" Marathon on tonight!
JOKING! JOKING!
When I sigh after writing Steve's name? - I'm not actually really sighing. I am, how would you say it, pretending to sigh. For comedic effect. I know, I know, that kind of comedy wasn't hip in the, say, 60s and 70s, but hopefully we've all grown past that.
So, for the record, I did not have relations with that man.
Now it's off for a tasty quiche for lunch, and then, oooh! Theres a "Sex & the City" Marathon on tonight!
JOKING! JOKING!
Monday, March 5, 2007
Hung out to dry by the meditating people
Ok, so here WAS my plan, m'peeps:
Leave the fun of Unawatuna beach, head to !ndia, and do some serious meditating there. There was no problem with this plan... it was a good one. Heck, I even left the beach a day early to make sure I had time enough to get to Delhi and meditate. Yep, nothing could stop me...
except...
(tension x 100! Whoa!)
...the fact that the meditating people decided that, well, answering emails or requests to go meditating was a WASTE OF TIME. Thanks, guru-guys. You could have at least told me one way or the other what the deal was. But no. I guess I expected too much from some "tinkle-tinkle types" in !ndia.
Oh, and "tinkle tinkle?" I have a key chain, with keys. Whenever people I meet get a bit too much "my reiki can cure cancer" or "I meditated to the astral plane last night" I pull it out, jingle it about (so it goes "tinkle tinkle") and let them know that I meditate to that.
Word.
Ok, so I'm going to do some meditating in sri lanka instead. Maybe.
Unawatuna Beach! Crazy fun! I swung from rafters! I swam out to a boat at night, and tried to zoom off into the night with Steve.
Steve... *sigh*
Ahem. Anyway, we couldn't start it, because the hyperdrive shaft was missing. But we sure did try to start that puppy up. What else happened there?
There was a beach fight! Not involving me, and I didn't even see it, but it happened. Crazy. Oh, and I got NO SLEEP at all there.
"But Andrew, why?" you inquire? Well, do you? I hope so. I hope you didn't just ask me for money, or where the love is, or anything like that, because I'm answering the "why?" question.
Because, the place I was at had the wonderful idea that, hey, at 9am, let's build furniture. Really loudly. Outside this aussie guy's room. I know, I really appreciated it too.
And then, the second night? I get back at 4am... and a, whatsis, a cockle-doodle-doo thing starts going off. A rooster! That's the one. Keeps on going and going, until, well, 9am. Which is when his shift ends, and the furniture guys start up.
BUT, otherwise, it was pretty good fun there. I re-met up with some loverly pommie girl's I'd met up with at the !ndian Embassy, and also re-met up with some more great British girls from Kandi. And, of course, I met up again with super-Steve. *sigh*
Oh, and to all the Women of the World out there... one of the girls (called Libby) was seeing a dude who wold apparnatly engage in fisticuffs with any guy she'd meet when they went out. Thankfully, boxing-man wasn't with us, but really... girls! Women! Why do you go out with crazy-men?
I think when I get to the uk I'm going to run a clinic for women to find nice, decent guys who do not relate driectly back to the stone age. Sounds like I might be on a winner for this one.
Alright, now it's to work out if I meditate in sri lanka, or pay m'mate the Dalai a visit.
"tinkle tinkle!"
Leave the fun of Unawatuna beach, head to !ndia, and do some serious meditating there. There was no problem with this plan... it was a good one. Heck, I even left the beach a day early to make sure I had time enough to get to Delhi and meditate. Yep, nothing could stop me...
except...
(tension x 100! Whoa!)
...the fact that the meditating people decided that, well, answering emails or requests to go meditating was a WASTE OF TIME. Thanks, guru-guys. You could have at least told me one way or the other what the deal was. But no. I guess I expected too much from some "tinkle-tinkle types" in !ndia.
Oh, and "tinkle tinkle?" I have a key chain, with keys. Whenever people I meet get a bit too much "my reiki can cure cancer" or "I meditated to the astral plane last night" I pull it out, jingle it about (so it goes "tinkle tinkle") and let them know that I meditate to that.
Word.
Ok, so I'm going to do some meditating in sri lanka instead. Maybe.
Unawatuna Beach! Crazy fun! I swung from rafters! I swam out to a boat at night, and tried to zoom off into the night with Steve.
Steve... *sigh*
Ahem. Anyway, we couldn't start it, because the hyperdrive shaft was missing. But we sure did try to start that puppy up. What else happened there?
There was a beach fight! Not involving me, and I didn't even see it, but it happened. Crazy. Oh, and I got NO SLEEP at all there.
"But Andrew, why?" you inquire? Well, do you? I hope so. I hope you didn't just ask me for money, or where the love is, or anything like that, because I'm answering the "why?" question.
Because, the place I was at had the wonderful idea that, hey, at 9am, let's build furniture. Really loudly. Outside this aussie guy's room. I know, I really appreciated it too.
And then, the second night? I get back at 4am... and a, whatsis, a cockle-doodle-doo thing starts going off. A rooster! That's the one. Keeps on going and going, until, well, 9am. Which is when his shift ends, and the furniture guys start up.
BUT, otherwise, it was pretty good fun there. I re-met up with some loverly pommie girl's I'd met up with at the !ndian Embassy, and also re-met up with some more great British girls from Kandi. And, of course, I met up again with super-Steve. *sigh*
Oh, and to all the Women of the World out there... one of the girls (called Libby) was seeing a dude who wold apparnatly engage in fisticuffs with any guy she'd meet when they went out. Thankfully, boxing-man wasn't with us, but really... girls! Women! Why do you go out with crazy-men?
I think when I get to the uk I'm going to run a clinic for women to find nice, decent guys who do not relate driectly back to the stone age. Sounds like I might be on a winner for this one.
Alright, now it's to work out if I meditate in sri lanka, or pay m'mate the Dalai a visit.
"tinkle tinkle!"
Saturday, March 3, 2007
Beaches! Uzbekistanis! Only 99 cents!
Ok, so I'm at a beach in sri lanka - oona watoona. I know, straight from Jungle Book, or maybe The Lion King. Anyway, it's super nice here, as all beaches tend to be. People are friendly, water is lapping, and I'm in an internet cafe! I know, I am so having ace programmer genes in me.
Ok, but what did I do yesterday? Why ask that... I sat around colombo, worked my plans for Europe (it's too cold for a blitzkrieg) and then did, well, not much else.
"But what about the day before, Andrew, what did yuo do then" I hear you ask. Well, first, you TOTALLY mis-pronounced "you" and said "yuo" which is weird. But I'll let it slide and answer "yuor" question. "Yuo" idiot.
I pretended to be from Uzbekistan, and know no english. I know, a hoot and a half! So this local guy, he decides that, well, "here's an uzbek who speaks no english. I'm going to rip him off" - but as we all know, I have the last laugh! Generally as I don't get the joke. but otherwise...
So first, he jumps in a tuk tuk and takes me to a buddhist temple. To see elephants. Which aren't there. And then, after me pretending to not know what a king is ("ooooh! Is czar! Czar!") he takes me to the "super secret gem museum, Mr Andrew. You will like this place, it is only open once a year, Mr Andrew. And that day is today!"
Yeah, right, like all us uzbeks were born yesterday. Honestly, dude.
So I go in there, still not speaking english. Now, just a word to all you people out there who think that I was Dicing With Death here. I was meeting a delightful girl who works at the british High Commission (called Jude - Hey Jude! How are things. Sorry, I can't help myself sometimes)in 30 mins. And she knew where I was, and what my mob number was.
Anyway, after mistaking a tunnel for a toilet ("is toilet?" "no! No! Is tunnel!" "Oh, is toilet! We no toilet in uzbek! Is hotel, yes?") and bargaining a ring from 80 to 50 us dollars (it was a mix of white gold and silver... bollocks) I leave the gem place. The owner, incidentally, while I was chatting to a flunky, counted the NUMBER OF VERBS I USED and worked out I knew english. I denied it, of course... but that was pretty sharp. So after some joking around with english, arabic and singhalese we parted ways... and I met up with my tuk tuk driver, and my "friendly guide."
It got economical pretty quickly. "Cost is 1200 RS" the driver tells me.
"No! You get me! I no pay" I say.
My guide is looking assured "no no, mr andrew, you pay for tuk tuk, I no want money"
(Of course he doesn't, that ride did not cost more than 150 Rs, they are splitting it). ANYway, after calling him a "not good man!" I decide that, enough is enough. It's time to TOTALLY bail on this crazy ride.
So I start to jump out the tuk tuk. The driver slows down... will this crazy uzbek jump? Damn straight, dude. It's one thing to rip off a stupid english person... another to rort a TOTALLY nice uzbek guy. So out I leap, running off screaming "you not good people!"
I get another tuk tuk on to meet Jude, (Hey Jude! Sorry, sorry...) and as we drive down, at an intersection, my "friendly guide" appears, and asks for money!
"Driver!" I bellow, "Driver, I insist you drive past this miscreant." Old "friendly guide" looks baffled... and we drive off, into a sunset, if the sun was setting at this time. A good drive. Fast, sexy, and tuk-tuky. But now I'm just being poetical.
Anyway, after a drink and a meal with Jude and her friends, I head on back to my room, ready for a day of beaching. Which was half of today!
And a quick write up about Jude (Hey!) - it was a real pleasure to meet a pom with a sense of humour and fun! Quite looking forward to sunny Blighty now, eh, wot?
NB: Parts of this story are totally false. And parts are true (Hey Jude!), so don't worry. Be happy.
Ok, but what did I do yesterday? Why ask that... I sat around colombo, worked my plans for Europe (it's too cold for a blitzkrieg) and then did, well, not much else.
"But what about the day before, Andrew, what did yuo do then" I hear you ask. Well, first, you TOTALLY mis-pronounced "you" and said "yuo" which is weird. But I'll let it slide and answer "yuor" question. "Yuo" idiot.
I pretended to be from Uzbekistan, and know no english. I know, a hoot and a half! So this local guy, he decides that, well, "here's an uzbek who speaks no english. I'm going to rip him off" - but as we all know, I have the last laugh! Generally as I don't get the joke. but otherwise...
So first, he jumps in a tuk tuk and takes me to a buddhist temple. To see elephants. Which aren't there. And then, after me pretending to not know what a king is ("ooooh! Is czar! Czar!") he takes me to the "super secret gem museum, Mr Andrew. You will like this place, it is only open once a year, Mr Andrew. And that day is today!"
Yeah, right, like all us uzbeks were born yesterday. Honestly, dude.
So I go in there, still not speaking english. Now, just a word to all you people out there who think that I was Dicing With Death here. I was meeting a delightful girl who works at the british High Commission (called Jude - Hey Jude! How are things. Sorry, I can't help myself sometimes)in 30 mins. And she knew where I was, and what my mob number was.
Anyway, after mistaking a tunnel for a toilet ("is toilet?" "no! No! Is tunnel!" "Oh, is toilet! We no toilet in uzbek! Is hotel, yes?") and bargaining a ring from 80 to 50 us dollars (it was a mix of white gold and silver... bollocks) I leave the gem place. The owner, incidentally, while I was chatting to a flunky, counted the NUMBER OF VERBS I USED and worked out I knew english. I denied it, of course... but that was pretty sharp. So after some joking around with english, arabic and singhalese we parted ways... and I met up with my tuk tuk driver, and my "friendly guide."
It got economical pretty quickly. "Cost is 1200 RS" the driver tells me.
"No! You get me! I no pay" I say.
My guide is looking assured "no no, mr andrew, you pay for tuk tuk, I no want money"
(Of course he doesn't, that ride did not cost more than 150 Rs, they are splitting it). ANYway, after calling him a "not good man!" I decide that, enough is enough. It's time to TOTALLY bail on this crazy ride.
So I start to jump out the tuk tuk. The driver slows down... will this crazy uzbek jump? Damn straight, dude. It's one thing to rip off a stupid english person... another to rort a TOTALLY nice uzbek guy. So out I leap, running off screaming "you not good people!"
I get another tuk tuk on to meet Jude, (Hey Jude! Sorry, sorry...) and as we drive down, at an intersection, my "friendly guide" appears, and asks for money!
"Driver!" I bellow, "Driver, I insist you drive past this miscreant." Old "friendly guide" looks baffled... and we drive off, into a sunset, if the sun was setting at this time. A good drive. Fast, sexy, and tuk-tuky. But now I'm just being poetical.
Anyway, after a drink and a meal with Jude and her friends, I head on back to my room, ready for a day of beaching. Which was half of today!
And a quick write up about Jude (Hey!) - it was a real pleasure to meet a pom with a sense of humour and fun! Quite looking forward to sunny Blighty now, eh, wot?
NB: Parts of this story are totally false. And parts are true (Hey Jude!), so don't worry. Be happy.
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