Who am I? I am a man.
And I am a former baby and a future skeleton, and I am a distant future pile of dust.
I am concepts and thoughts and feelings and outfits. And I am each of these all at once, unless I am in the shower. Then I am not outfits, because that would be uncomfortable.
To some I am known as Chief. And these are usually people who work in Radio Shack or try to sell me shoes. To others I am known as Buddy. These are people who dwell in bars and wonder if I’ve got a problem or what it is that I am “looking at.” And to still others, who are in that same bar, standing just off to the side, I am “Get Him!”
I am he and I am him. I am this and I am that. And I am, from time to time, Roberta, if I am in a chat room.
I am everything and I am nothing. I am just kidding; I am not everything and nothing. That would be ridiculous. I am just everything.
I am what I eat. And I am this especially when I bite my nails.
I have been called Hey, You! and Get Out of the Way! and Look Out! And then, some time later, Plaintiff.
I am the silent majority. I am a loud minority.
I am friend. I am foe. I am fo’ sho’. What up, y’all?
I am sorry about that. I was just talking to one of my race friends, a black one. I am white and I am black. And I am both of these when I am dressed as a mime. And then I am sh-h-h.
I am someone who likes to go to the park. But I am not the guy with the Labrador retriever and the tennis ball and the tattered book under his arm, who is wearing fleece and is kind of tan. No. I am not that guy. I am sick of that guy and all the women who talk to him.
I am the Walrus, but not the one you’re probably thinking of. I am the Other Walrus, the one who is less the Walrus in the sense of legendary music and more the Walrus in the sense of his tendency to lie around on a beach for too long.
I am bravery. I am courage. I am valor. I am daring. I am holding a thesaurus.
I am sometimes referred to as Excuse Me in an annoyed tone of voice, because apparently I am in the way. I am so sorry. I am supposed to be some sort of mind reader, I guess. I am moving out of the way now as slowly as I possibly can. I am doing this and there’s nothing you can do about it.
October 1st 2011
England, Belgium, France, Luxembourg, Holland, Denmark, Sweden, Germany, Italy, Austria, Hungary, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia, Romania, Bulgaria, Turkey, Greece, and....Canada. Done. ... read more
September 24th 2011
In both Bosnia and Romania I had been told by people that I needed to do the "UFO tour." In Bulgaria, just outside of Veliko Tarnova, rests the middling remains of a communist conference center, once the biggest and most unique building in all of Bulgaria, now the relic of a repressive time. And, you guessed it, it is shaped like a flying saucer. I arrived in my hostel in Veliko, the one that was meant to provide said UFO tour. They provided it, yes, but I found almost instantly that interest in it was rather low from the other guests. They all preferred to do rock climbing and horse back riding; you know, normal stuff. I like weird stuff. A shame, because I had come to Veliko solely so that I could see communism in ... read more
September 16th 2011
Radiohead famously said, "Meeting people is easy" (well, famously to Radiohead fans). Call it a reference to their days of intense fame, in which they would shake hands with countless interviewers every day and yet feel an increasing apathy, even disdain for these people as the days went on. In my travels I have met lots of people. LOTS of people. Some I would get to know rather well, some I would spend no more than a day in their company, some I would shake hands with, leave the room, and then never see again. The lives that criss-cross while you backpack, the chance meetings, the unexpected relationships, they come down to nothing more than a click on the computer, a decision to stay at this hostel over that one, the choice to take this train ... read more
September 11th 2011
Mostar has a beautiful old town, mostly rebuilt since the war of '93. The world famous bridge, originally built in the 16th century, was rebuilt in 2004 after being demolished by the Croats. As for the rest of the town, it is decently habitable, but depressing as hell. The first thing you will notice is all of the bombed out buildings, especially on the Bulevar stretch, which acted as the main front during the war. I just stayed one night there at Magdelena-Lena hostel, run by Lena, a born and bread Bosnian and the sweetest woman in the world. As for the rest of the Bosnians, they are a pretty damn grumpy people. I've decided I'll let them off the hook for thirty post-war years, but by 2024 they better have shaped up. The woman running ... read more
September 9th 2011
September is here. The tourists are gone, the hostels have died down, and most of my cohorts are now closer to my age (everyone else is back in school. Suckers). Things are now proceeding as much more of a 'do what I feel' scenario. I typically don't even have to book my hostels until the day before. It's nice. On the other hand, a whole bunch of those off-season annoyances have popped back up: nothing ever being open, people constantly hounding me for sales, and everyone else generally being more perturbed and annoyed by tourists. That last one might just be my current proximity. Who knows? So where was I? Ahh, Hvar. Going back two weeks, I had a blast there. Harry, Matt, Roz, Lucy, and I rented a boat and toured the nearby islands. Kind ... read more
August 25th 2011
Well, sunday confirmed it - sick. I guess it was inevitable. You can't keep up this kind of pace and share rooms with that many dirty backpackers without something eventually catching up to you. On my train to Zagreb I started feeling a swelling in my throat and then got off into the unsavory Croatian humidity and spent the next two hours searching for my hostel. (I think Croatia officially wins the award for worst direction givers, as I had a similarily hard time finding my place in Split). Got to the hostel and...closed. Shit! Backtracked to an HI Hostel and went straight to bed. It was about two in the morning at that point. Woke up in the morning and felt like death. I was skeduled to go to the Plitvice Lakes the next day, ... read more
August 10th 2011
First of all, you might notice that it says above that I am in Bagram. I can assure you, I'm not in Bagram. I am in Munich, in fact. Long story short, for various reasons this website is difficult and rather infurriating to use, thus I have opted to just hit endless links until I am free to write what I want. So don't expect accuracy in my locations from now on. My computer time is far to limited to spend time fighting with bloody travelblog.org. Berlin is now long behind me. Sad. My six days there were the highlight of my trip, for sure. The hostel was great, met lots of great people, and saw A LOT. Although not everthing I wanted to. Strangely, I was more into the cold war history than I was ... read more
July 28th 2011
My hostel last night was a train. An abandonded train, that is. It was parked randomly back in the 30's and never used again. In the 80's they converted the cabins into hostel dorms. Inspired. I was in Lund, Sweden. A pretty little town, although not much to do there. After getting off the train, within five minutes I had been stopped by the mormon church. Yes, I can't even get away from them in Sweden. But they spoke my language, so I was happy to talk to them. It was two girls, both on a "mission" to Europe to spread their message (self funded, I might add). They were impressed by how much I knew about their denomination, and I let them think that it was because I was legitimately interested in it and left ... read more
July 23rd 2011
Things have been somewhat spoiled by consistenly cloudy skies in Luxembourg, Amsterdam, Hamburg, and now Copenhagen. It just won't brighten up, no matter where I go. And the forecast, at least for Copenhagen, suggests I won't be free of it any time soon. Let's start with Luxembourg shall we. It was kind of a last minute decision to go there. After a long winded day at the Eiffel Tower celebrating Bastille Day with the French I had run out of accomodation in Paris but still had a day to kill before I was skeduled to be in Amsterdam. So, Luxembourg it was. I checked in to a HI Hostel, which was fresh and comfy, but booooring, so I spent most of the day on my feet. Took in the local History Museum, which was awesome. The ... read more
July 18th 2011
I've been asked by a bunch of people to relate the details of my extreme bump in the road. Given that four of my friends randomly received calls from the Canadian embassy in Brussels, I suppose curiosity is warranted. So here is the harrowing tale. I had arrived in Brussels the day before, the first leg of my trip away from the comforts of David's lovely England home, and lo and behold, my bag got stolen. Not my entire pack, mind you, just my day bag. Picture it: it's about ten in the morning, I've just headed out into the bowels of Brussels for my first bout of sight seeing, and I stop into Macdonalds for a bit of breakfast. Egg Mcmuffin and hash browns, to be exact. I take a seat at a table right ... read more