
Notice: Undefined index: limit in /home/www/travelblog.org/html.v3/_internal/rss-index.php on line 26

Notice: Undefined index: location in /home/www/travelblog.org/html.v3/_internal/rss-index.php on line 36
<rss version="0.91">
<channel>
<title>Travel Blog | himynameis</title>
<link>http://www.travelblog.org/Bloggers/himynameis/</link>
<description>Travel adventures in journals and photos from himynameis</description>
<language>en-us</language>
<pubDate>Wed, 19 Jun 2013 10:19:01 +0000</pubDate>
<lastBuildDate>Wed, 19 Jun 2013 10:19:01 +0000</lastBuildDate><item>
                    <title>Is it Wednesday Then it must be Typhoon Usagi Part 2</title>
                    <description>By this time Shikoku was drowning in rain and being whipped by hundred kilometre an hour plus winds. So was Kansai. The only way left to go was south down to Kyushu. Nagasaki a city I'd skipped on a previous cycle tour of the island may be best known for being the target of the world's second atomic bomb attack but it doesn't appear to be any worse for wear. The museum on this subject is poign</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Japan/blog-589707.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Is it Wednesday Then it must be Typhoon Usagi Part 1</title>
                    <description>His cold steely gaze pierced through me. His lungs visibly shrunk as he let a shriek from his whistle. I looked for an escape route but traffic was bumper to bumper on my right. To my left the pedestrians posed an obstacle. They seemed oblivious to yet another gaijin. The uniformed caricature stretched a hand out to stop my progress. It was time to get resourceful.G'day mate. How'z it goin' Nice</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Japan/blog-586631.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Souled Out</title>
                    <description>She jumps urgently to the side as a horny hand reaches out from the masses of a Little India Sunday gathering and grabs her ass. Her eyes begin to steam over like a pressure cooker and I am half expecting lightning to come out of them and find and strike the offender. Then a white blob drops onto her shoulder. I look up but there doesn't appear to be anybody wanking in the windows above. I make us</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Singapore/blog-522504.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Were the Incas Thieves</title>
                    <description>The security guard escorted me to the front door motioned to an official taxi driver and instructed me to pay no more than a Peso for the three hundred meter journey. He pointed at a yellow sign on a building a little further down the street and instructed me to get out there and not to loiter. Walk right in and don't stop to talk to anyone. It's too dangerous. Good luck you'll need it.For years</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/South-America/Peru/blog-555959.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Do They Eat Cats in China</title>
                    <description>Well yes they do. But that isn't the subject of this blog. Friends have been asking me to do a presentation of my last year of travel. Instead I offer them this movie of my two months on a motorbike from Yunnan across Sichuan Qinghai and Gansu to Xinjiang. Kunming to Kashgar and all points in between.12000km on a red machine. Trials and tribulations despair and delight. In the end I sold the</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/China/blog-546400.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Shoot to Kill</title>
                    <description>Friday noon. There I am lying in bed netbook in my lap surfing and waiting for the clouds to clear. No use getting up and heading for the woods if it's overcast. The lighting conditions do not favour wildlife photography today all I'd get is a fuzzy mess.It's a wolf I swear And that's a bearYeah right if you say so...I occasionally glance out the window and across the balcony to see if th</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Europe/Slovenia/Inner-Carniola/blog-545157.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>The Back of Beyond</title>
                    <description>My Norwegian driving mate was on fire. After taking it easy for the first couple of thousand kilometres he could no longer keep his Viking rally driving genes in check. The way we were going you could easily mistake the Ford Falcon for a Focus and my buddy for Henning Solberg. But there were no titles for us at the end of this run. No champagne bottles to be opened and drenched on some scantily</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Oceania/Australia/blog-521302.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Into Thin Air</title>
                    <description>The weather was picture perfect the traffic volume low and alpineesque valleys lay below me in all their glory. I had timed the ride just right. It was 1 pm the hottest part of the day and my altimetre indicated  an altitude of 4.400 metres as I headed ever upwards to Chola pass in Western Sichuan. I had spent the night in the cleanest hotel of the whole trip showered with hot water for the fi</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/China/Sichuan/Western-Sichuan-Northern-Yunnan/blog-519333.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Food for Thought</title>
                    <description>My first CouchSurfing account had been hit and miss. Admitedly I'd set it up to find free accommodation in expensive places so I made it squeaky clean and 100 real. I met a few colourful characters and we had some memorable times but I couldn't escape the feeling that people weren't responding to my emails because of my origin. When a fellow CouchSurfer went out of control and I had to cancel m</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Malaysia/Wilayah-Persekutuan/Kuala-Lumpur/China-Town/blog-512099.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Wheels of Glory</title>
                    <description>Metal slices through the flesh like a knife through tofu. Trousers get torn like a spider web in a storm blood gushes from a deep wound above the right knee. I look to see if my leg is still attached. Check. Look at the damage to the bike. Check. Give the pricks who forced me to swerve and slide the finger. Check.I'd been riding Route 214 out of Jiangcheng for less than a kilometre when all of a </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/China/Yunnan/blog-507540.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Into The Tiger's Lair</title>
                    <description>As I push through the swamp wary of snakes and spiders I brush against a palm tree. Centimetre long red ants in their tens come rushing out and attack me biting all over. Their acid enters my skin and a pain much like an electrical current pulsates through my body. I crush them with my open palms but more come to take their place. I drop my guard and waddle through the knee deep water and mud a</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Malaysia/Johor/Endau-Rompin-National-Park/blog-487669.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Magic Kingdom</title>
                    <description>The chill on the overnight trip across the Altiplano from Uyuni had been intense. Wearing all my clothing and wrapped inside a sleeping bag I still found myself shivering. The gods must have decided I had done something wrong and were punishing me. Could I not just say three Hail Marys and be done with it We arrived in Oruro at 3 o'clock in the morning. I fielded a couple of questions to the peop</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/South-America/Chile/Arica-and-Parinacota/Lauca-National-Park/blog-487355.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Nice and 'smt'</title>
                    <description>There we were stomachs growling. We were staying with Mel and Sharyn friends R. had made a couple of months earlier in Laos and we didn't want to inconvenience them when they offered to make dinner. Hopping into the old Ford Falcon we had rented we made our way north through suburbia towards the nearest shopping centre. The brights lights of a Maccas drew us like a moth. The main entrance was l</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Oceania/Australia/Queensland/Gold-Coast/blog-486777.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>The Impressions That I Get</title>
                    <description>Gangs of cockatoos fill the air. Rainbow lorikeets cavort amongst the trees. But in  the distance planes take off and land from six to midnight. An assortment of cranes across the bay mar the view of Sydney Tower and the city and an oil tanker lies where the Endeavour once anchored. Much has changed since Captain James Cook first arrived here 240 years ago.Me I came here back in 1991. Nine month</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Oceania/Australia/New-South-Wales/Botany-Bay/blog-486137.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Lost in Space</title>
                    <description>They bite at my flesh as I lie in the water. Yellow red blue purple green silver black brown and white. A symphony of colours. Stripes and dots. Little critters with sharp incisors and large oval ones with huge puffed lips. A magnificent display a wonderland of sorts.He swims right at my mask. A fish the size of my finger but defiant as he protects his territory. A blow fish magnifies itse</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Philippines/Palawan/El-Nido/blog-457367.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>The Pleasure of Living</title>
                    <description>A fly hits my eye with the speed of a bullet a pothole send me airborn for the umpteenth time the stars light my way as a new moon struggles to make itself seen. The purr of my Honda 125cc XRM pierces the night's eerie silence.Palawan Philippines.Far from the madness of Southeast Asia. Out of the way and out of favour with international tourists. One Abu Sayyaf kidnapping too many and the few p</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/Philippines/blog-456294.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Something Else</title>
                    <description>I flinch as he places the blade to my throat. Slowly he slides it along tearing at the hair follicles rasping my skin. A blade so jagged it mimics the surrounding Karst landscape.I had hesitated a moment too long.Haircut over I should have jumped right out of the chair. Instead I found myself thrust backwards shaving foam of sorts slapped onto my face and with a hair clipper stuck up my ears </description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/Asia/China/Guangxi/Yangshuo/blog-455464.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Two Thumbs Down</title>
                    <description>Here it was. The picture was complete. Someone being honest about his motives. Finally.Like so many before I had figured him out from his accent. T. my fellow countryman. World traveler and Samaritan. When the Russians had stopped giving aid to Cuba he was there to exchange soap for services. Five hundred clean sweet smelling ladies. When an influx of other male 'tourists' meant that soap was n</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/South-America/Colombia/blog-432227.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>Sweet Surrender</title>
                    <description>The hook had barely touched the water when a voracious mouth with teeth like sickles attached itself to the chicken on the end. Fish number three would do to satisfy my meat intake for the day. The date on my watch indicated it was Tuesday I had been here over a week and a half. Was it really that long The days had passed by so quickly...a sure sign that I was enjoying myself. I had better be I</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/South-America/Chile/Easter-Island/blog-415553.html</link>
                </item><item>
                    <title>The Assassination of Mr. Nice</title>
                    <description>No entiendo he said with a puzzled face and a look of fear in his expression. The overconfident prickahole had had the tables turned on his little charade.Not two minutes earlier the man had gotten into the front passenger seat of the taxi I had just hailed to get back to my residence. Asking for documentation the driver duly obliged. The man proceeded with a mobile phone call to 'HQ' 'repo</description>
                    <link>http://www.travelblog.org/South-America/Bolivia/Potosi-Department/Potosi/blog-415535.html</link>
                </item></channel></rss>