Was just in Phi Phi, it was so hot. We had no air con. Just a spinning fan and mice. I sweated every moment i was there. I sweated whilst i slept. I sweated whilst i walked. I sweated whilst i blinked. I even sweated in a freezing cold shower i would spend 8 hours of the day standing under. I don;t stop moaning about it. I dont stop thinking about it. Every moment i am conscious i am looking for some sort of cooling system. I walk past shops and open fridges and just stand there until the shop owners scream at me in Thai and push me out the door. I walk into restaurants and ask for ice cream so that i can just shove my face in it. I also order glasses of ice then put them under my arm pits. I see air conditioning units, and greet them with moist arms, beads falling down my cheeks like tears. I was once able to converse with other humans, they saw me as one of their own. But now, all i see when i look in their eyes is disgust and revoltion. On their dry lips i see the questions forming "whats wrong with this guy? Why is he so sweaty? Is he dying?" They hold their noses when they see me. I don't smell but the image of sweat just evokes feelins of FILTH and GROSSNESS in others.
My only friend is Air Con. Air Con is all i care about. I HEART Air Con. AIR CON HEARTS ME.....
Ahem...I'm now in Malaysia. Its further south. Its alot hotter. I think im washing away, dripping down the drain...
Sunday, 22 March 2009
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Sail Boat Tales
Our little room on our Junk Boat at Ha Long Bay, small, cosy and REEKING of petrol. But it did come complete with a painting of a woman cupping her breasts. Always makes a room more brighter i feel.
The wheels on the cyclo go round and round...
One night, coming home from a meal in Hanoi, myself and Jo decided to get a cyclo, pretty much the same thing as a rickshaw in London. However, unlike the drivers in London, these guys had NO IDEA where our hotel was and after driving around for 25 minutes, it was clear we were both lost. However, they were having a jolly fun time laughing the whole way. Rip off? Perhaps. Terrifying? OH GOD YES. As i have already talked of the traffic in Vietnam, imagine sitting in front of one of these things, zooming through the unstoppable, unflappable, beeping hoards of mopeds and trucks. Now imagine turning a corner into a dark street and finally relaxing as you have a break from the terrifying traffic, when all of a sudden, two giant flashing headlights are coming towards you, coupled with a horn beeping so loud it feels as though your head will explode, and Planes-trains-and-automobile style you raise your hands in front of your screaming face to prepare for instant death from oncoming juggernaut. That part of the journey was not fun. After our very close scrape with being obliterated, as i unstuck my claw like hands from seat, all the driver could do was lean over, tap me on the shoulder and whilst laughing wipe his hand across his forehead making the 'Phew' gesture. I wanted to slap him across the face. Hard.
The Gang
This was our traveling family for a whole two weeks. Arnt they great? We miss them long time :( Awesome bunch of people with who we had incredible fun...
PUNISHMENT
Perhaps not funny now, but these pavements were mainly the cause of all our telling-offs whilst queuing to see Mr Minh. I joked that if you spoke of Mr Minh out of turn, or did not follow the strict rules of the guards, these holes beneath your feet would open, forever trapping your anguished face in them allowing all others to walk over you as a reminder of the power of Mr Minh. Go on, just imagine my screaming face beneath one of those circles, thats it, kind of funny no?!
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