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June 2006
Sorry, only a couple of pics with this one, I've hardly taken any (the reasons for which will become clear). You'll just have to make do with the incisive, entertaining and enlightening writing!!
Truly exotic locations are hard to find so, once I had made up my mind on where to go to from South America, I travelled to a ONE-IN-A-MILLION destination. After I lifted my head from the pillow in Lima, Peru, the next time I laid it to rest was in a place unrivalled for its stunning vistas, distinctive culture and magical mystique..... Berkhamsted, Hertfordshire, England! (Not "In a forest?" as my Brother-in-law queried after miss-hearing my location when I rang him to tell him I was home). He was even more surprised (probably nearer to shocked, actually) when I moved in with him, my big (little) Sister and Neice for the next two weeks!
You may well ask what I was doing there on this intended round the World journey? Well, since I left Dear Old Blighty in February, I have missed more important occasions than I care to mention. I wasn't going to miss my best friend's wedding if I could
possibly help it. This epic (and rather inconvenient, it has to be said) journey was undertaken, despite the fact that I had delayed leaving for my travels in the first place so I could be there on the date the wedding was originally planned for, last August. The postponement of the event was due to the birth of my friends beautiful baby girl, Summer which, I suppose is a ligitimate enough reason. So, because Summer arrived in October (she's going to get sick of that when she gets older), I find out six weeks in to my travels that a new date had been set for while I was away. I don't know, friends, you can't trust them to time anything right! That said, friendship is a wonderful thing and if it hadn't have been for another great one of mine (and one of his) arranging my flights then, I wouldn't be writing this blog. So, blame Steve and Stacy if you're bored with it already.
Due to the stand-by nature of said flights I may not have made it home at all. So, being the thoughtful gent I am, and not wanting anyone to be distraught and downhearted in the event of a no-show, I told next to no-one I was coming and, therefore, no-one knew I was home until I got there. Therein, for me anyway, lies the beauty of making the journey. You see, as well as being a thoughtful gent, I am also a sadistic git and thoroughly enjoyed frightening the life out of everyone upon my arrival.
The range of reactions to my unscheduled re-appearance differed slightly from person to person. Some displayed profound shock (to be expected I suppose, when you see someone you think is the other side of the World). Some greeted me with feigned indifference (it must have been feigned because I am way too special to feel indifferent about ;-). Some showed feelings of genuine heartfelt joy, as I did with every single re-union. But, generally, the reaction was simply: "Bloody hell, what are you doing here?" When, smirking cheekily, I answered "I fancied a holiday", it didn't go down too well with some people for some reason. It was only a joke, if I send you a fiver, will you go out and buy yourselves a sense of humour please?!!
I could go in to each individual's individual reaction in detail as every one was a classic in it's own right but, I think I'm the only one who would find that funny too (and I wouldn't want to risk upsetting those readers that were unfortunate enough to be born without a funny bone, would I?). However, I must mention the way I was recieved by the couple I went to surprise in the first place. While he stood, jaw firmly fixed to the floor and speechless (probably the first time he's been quiet in his entire life), his wife-to-be swore like a trooper in front of her mother for a good full minute and a half................. Priceless!
As I said, I won't describe the many similar occasions I had while I was home but, I will say a big thank you to each and every one of you. You have satisfied my sadistic streak for quite some time to come.
The wedding itself was one of those special days. Chiefly, and quite obviously, because I was there. (For those of you that haven't spent the money on that sense of humour yet, THAT was another joke)! Seriously, it was a great day and, some might say (although you wouldn't if you knew the people involved), a wee bit strange. The Sun shone and it was hot (on the first weekend in June!- That's never happened in the UK before). The Bride was nearly half an hour late due to getting lost on the way to the ceremony (in her own town)! The reception was a pool party and The Groom and Best Man did their speeches only half dressed or less. (No, it wasn't THAT kind of party, it was just down to them having been in the pool. Control your filthy minds, I said they were strange, not derranged.....well, I think so, anyway)!
Back to the specialness; Although most of us only ever express our emotions with words or a touch, I think everyone present that day could, literally, feel the love these two people have for one-another, just by the way they looked at eachother. That feeling is always there between them, it is ever-present and unmistakeable. Like a cloud in the atmosphere, you can always see it but, although these two have made that cloud their home, sadly for some, it is a difficult place to reach. Keep living on cloud nine guys, it's a great place to be, I know.
Talking of clouds and atmospheres, I am so glad I flew through so many and travelled half of this planet's just to be there. It meant the World to me, literally. Mind you, having made the effort, if ayone else had been given The "Furthest Travelled" Trophy (desreved or not) I would have drowned the pair of them and the recipient in the pool!!
As with most things in the experience of being a Human Being, there was a duality to making the trip home. Leaving again was just as hard as it had been the first time around. Beers, then tears were had before I left but, I try to look at it objectively. As a famouse (no spelling mistake intended) man once said, "Life is a Rollercoaster" and I will take the ups with the downs. Besides, as has already beeen proved, I will be home again. You can take the boy out of The 'Nell but, he's like a nasty rash- he just keeps coming back.
A bit deep all that but, as I drafted those words a song called "Senses Working Overtime" is played in the background and I call that Karma. I think it was by XTC but, I'm not sure. Please put me out of my misery and tell me who it was for definate. Answers in an stamped, addressed email please (one from my least favourite sister would be nice- she'll definately know who it was as she played the damn track to death when we were kids).
Sorry if I missed you while I was home but I was far too busy with my family, CLOSE friends (only playing, I really am sorry if I missed you) and, of course, with Sarah (who, I am eternally apologetic to for distracting during some very serious work). That said, distractions can be positive and life changing sometimes as well, I know this too. I spent more time than intended in my neck of the woods mainly due to the World Cup starting and wanting to watch loads of Football (oh, and of course, because it was my FAVOURITE Neice's birthday- Oops! Pheww, I think I got away with that one)! The trend continued in Canada on my way back out. No Neices there (I think) but, there was plenty more football, beer (second mention in one Blog, is that good)? And, as always, there were great people. Thank you all, I am very lucky to have so many home from homes.
The next destination, and point of embarkation for the second leg of the trip, couldn't have been further from a home from home. Another large-to-say-the-least Latin American city with strange smells, tastes and times. Mexico City, where the the Chilli's are hot and the girls aren't pretty. I came here rather than start the second part of my world tour in The States, a) because there were a few things I wanted to do here but, also because I wanted to be in a Football (not soccer- arrrggghhhh!) orientated country while The World Cup was on. Sad you may think but, unless you have stood on the terraces and cried at a result (good or bad), then, I'm afraid, you have no idea what Football means to some people. Read "Fever Pitch" by Nick Hornby and you may, just may have an inkling. I wanted to feel, again, the passion of the people for the people's game as I had whilst watching live matches in Argentina. However, I was a wee bit perturbed at the lack of said emotion in Mexico. I have seen evidence in South America that would have you believe Bill Shankly's famous quote on the game about it being more important than life itself. Thankfully, this was only on TV but, nonetheless, I have seen people die at a match in these parts because the game is taken so seriously. And, although I do not subscribe to such extremes, this attitude led me to believe that watching matches here, during the World's premier competition, would be a passionate experience to be savoured.
In reality, my experience of football in the city's main square on the day the country left The World Cup was mixed and as impoverished of passion as the majority of the population are of money. On the one hand, when Mexico scored I, along with the twenty-thousand others present, was as ecstactic as I always am when a goal goes in and you're in the middle of a Football crowd. At that moment, in a few seconds of pure, unadulterated joy, forgetting whether the person next to you is a street cleaner, a construction worker or even a merchant banker, you hug this stranger as if he/she were a long, lost relative and you leave the ground, lifted, nay levitated on shockwaves of sheer excitement. The true passion of the sport is felt in these moments.
But, on the other hand, I was surprised, if not downright dissapointed at the lack of grief shown at Mexico's exit left from the World's biggest stage. If it had been Scotland losing to a bitter rival in the last sixteen I would have been distraught beyond belief and inconsolable for days (no cheap jokes about how it's never going to happen because Scotland always go out in the first round anyway- I've heard them all). However, the locals greeted the opposition's equaliser then, the winning goal (in extra time no less) with disgruntled groans and, worse still, the final whistle, with not much more than a muted murmer!
As I left The Zocalo, I spied on the pavement, a plastic wristband emblazoned with the legend "Vivemos mexico"- Let's go Mexico, and I thought "How sad." There it lay, discarded and lost in its solitude, just like the solitary goal they had scored and we had all raptuously enjoyed but, ultimately, wasn't enough. And worse still, despite displaying proudly the country's colours it was trampled on and kicked in to the gutter, all come undone and broken just like the people's dreams of winning The World Cup.
Despite the lack of true feelings of loss shown by the locals, at least they didn't rampage through the streets, mindlessly attacking cars made in the opposition's country or any foreigner that happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, as is so often the case when England take a bow (sorry to rub salt in the wide open wound- bad timing on my part). Perhaps, The Mexican supporters have learnt, as I have, that Football is not a matter of life and death and it's NOT more important than that. It is, however, a life changing game capable of fuelling such intense emotion and of creating such fantastic memories that it should be savoured while at it's best. I will continue to do my best to do so while it is. I sincerely hope all is well at home and this most recent bow was taken gracefully (despite being robbed of a semi-final place again)!
Sorry if you did find this one a bit boring but, going home and watching Football IS what I've been doing and, in any case, you were warned not to read on at the beginning. When the Footy is finished I promise to do a proper blog (well, as proper as they are ever going to get) on traveling and culture and all sorts of other exciting stuff!!
Cheerioothanoo.
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