Oh? Am I in Your Way?

There are two things that seriously taint any road trip in India.

  1. The Roads. For the most part, they are horrible. Even if they are in good repair, they can and often do turn sour quickly. Pot holes the size of small countries appear out of nowhere on an otherwise smooth road.
  2. The drivers. I can’t say “in the world” because, I haven’t driven in every country. But I can say “that I have ever seen”. They are the worst.

    Read on Macduff…

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Hamburg, Tor zur Welt

Just before I start to recount any story about Hamburg, there is a pause, a smile, as I am momentarily lost in my own reminiscence. We were destined for love, Hamburg and I. Long before I ever stepped foot off the train, I knew she would be the girl for me. I thought of Hamburg as a seedy tart, a wild and sinful city, full of reckless abandon. Sex and drugs and rock and roll! Debauchery at its finest, at its most pure, and I was right (Danke Gott). But I was to learn she was so much more. So very, very much more.  Hamburg isn’t  a tart…she’s a lady.

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Cozumel My Love Pt. 2

Part Two

The first order of business while heading south along Quintana Roo C1, was to gawk at the cruise ships. They truly are a marvel. I’m not a cruise guy myself, but they sure are something to look at. The downside to cruise ships of course, if you’re staying in the vicinity of a port area, is that as soon as they dock and the hordes of cruisers come ashore all lathered in suntan lotion, sporting straw hats and dark sunglasses in Hawaiian shirts and khaki shorts, clicking everything that moves with their Nikons (yep, I’ve been known to don this veneer myself…too often in fact), the prices in all the shops tend to triple.

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Cozumel My love. Pt. 1

 

Islands, I’ve seen a few. But then again, not too few to mention. (Sorry Frank) But it is true, I’m a bit of an island addict. One of my most treasured self indulgences is crawling all over some culturally rich and colourful archipelago with a water bottle and camera. I’ve explored some so small they were little more than a spit of land with a tree. Literally while standing in the middle, on a very low lying hill, you can see both coasts. There have been some so large I couldn’t mange to cover them all in a jeep with a full tank of fuel and a guide. But I dig them, each and every one. Islands are like past lovers; each is special, each with their own set of memories, sweet and sour; distinct moments in time that harbor their own individual fragrances, melodies and flavor.  One such jewel in my memories box is Cozumel…..

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Living With Irving

Alright, here is our new Indian terminology for the day…..House Lizard. To be accurately used in sentences such as, “Lee…stop screaming like a ten year old girl, it’s only a HOUSE LIZARD!”  Or “Why are you standing on the kitchen counter? Did the HOUSE LIZARD frighten you?” Look, I am not a girly man, okay? I can hunt, change tires and pull wings off flies like the best of them.  But sneak attacks by flicky tongued, bog eyed, fast like greased pig lighting reptiles can be a little unnerving when one is not accustomed to it…and I…….am not. I don’t think it breaches any article of The Bro Code or involves me turning in my “Made of Authentic Hairy Man Club” membership card to admit that.

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Train Cabin Succubus

 

The following posts are real.

They were made on my facebook page between December 6th and 7th 2013, over a 26 hour period.

Included are also some sms messages sent to my friends in Canada during the facebook postings. Other than some spelling corrections, addition of flowery dialogue and the odd deletion of incriminating first person statements…..punctuation correction, foul language removal, ummm…there has also been minor adjustment and embellishment to the original sms now that my head is clear….This is how it played out. These posts and messages recount my first experience with serious train travel and a genuine train cabin succubus!

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Nahin Rock and Roll Bro!

 “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music”                 

Friedrich Nietzsche

Why would anyone stubbornly stick to a classic rock addenda for a band in India? Why would you insist on a primarily Beatles, Stones, and Doors set list as you struggle to find appreciative audiences? Why cling to rock and roll in New Delhi when we hear “not interested” from nine venues before the tenth “will give us a shot?” Continually swimming against a Sufi tide, and all we need to do, is add a couple of pop songs to our line up to make us “Western Music Palatable.”

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Indian Police Corrupt? Nawwww….

 

So it was to be Goa, one of the most beautiful spots on earth. Nestled on the mid west coast of India with its lush green jungles and sparkling blue oceans being gently caressed by sweet tropical breezes. It was amidst the honey dripping sunshine of this paradise,……..I had my first run in with the Indian Rozzers.

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