LonesomeTraveller

Mad to live.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

An Elephant, No Seatbelt and a Truck Full of Monkeys

My first long distance drive in India is somewhat of a roller coaster ride. Before we even set off I'm refused access to a seatbelt because the driver finds it offensive to his driving skills (I found it offensive to my life!) We dive along roads built for 7 lanes of traffic but with 10 rows of cars rammed in. I say cars but it could be anything really; motorbikes with families of five on with one helmet to share, trucks with twenty men hanging off the side (they're fantastically colourful though, I'll give 'em that), even elephants are ambling down the side of the road with little pigs running around their feet as they amble along. You might think this isn't such a big deal, but some of those cars decide to drive the wrong way down the road (because India). So you end up with a bright pink truck coming head on, no seatbelt, an elephant on one side and a man with a monkey on his motor bike on the other (the monkey was actually incredibly cute). It's India though, so who cares, it'll be fine! Did I mention I'm terrified of roller coasters?

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

The House

The house we are staying in is cute, but I kinda hate it. Everyone has to huddle around the wifi router desperately trying to connect, only to be cruelly let on long enough to load a Snapchat but not watch it. There's also this kid roaming around, I don't know what he does and he sorta reminds me of the house, cute but I also kinda hate him. He doesn't leave you alone and he doesn't stop shouting. All the time! I guess if he went out and played maybe he'd have less energy but he just seems to be stuck in the house all day, bouncing around. The only thing the house really has going for it is the floor mattress. You lie down on there and you won't be getting up again for a while! I'm actually still here now.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Hugh Jackman's Wolverine

Wandering the streets is surreal (you'll see I say this a lot about India) it's dirt roads mainly, all seeming to be under construction - how long have they been this way? The streets are littered with people working. Doing what, I don't know. Just kinda working. Nondescript jobs really. Hammering. Digging. No equipment of course. No hat. No gloves. No shoes. Just looks like a guy turned up and started working. It looks like its bring your family to work day. Wives and children, sitting or playing about the man as he toils away. The last thing to catch my eye is a huge picture of Hugh Jackman advertising some unknown product. I'd say there's about a 1% chance he knows he's up there.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Strange Beginnings

A bizarre start to my time in India, I'm out the airport far before any of the other travellers because I'm swept through the 'Indian nationals queue' (probably because I'm 1/16th Maltese) which means after I'm greeted by our driver, who I tried to start a conversation with (not a word of English), I'm left on a little step on my own outside Delhi airport for 30 minutes! When I'm joined it's by two others, girls I'd actually spotted queuing and thought they have the look of travellers about them aka they're in harem pants. We set off on our drive through the streets of Delhi. Well I say Delhi but the people who booked this trip seem to have confused Delhi with an hour outside of Delhi.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Here We Go

Okok. All I gotta do is collect my visa at 4pm, then try and be at the airport for 6.30! Birmingham to London in two and a half hours at rush hour. I got this. When I say collect, I’m totally guessin’, I have no idea if it’ll be there or not!  I actually end up arriving at 3pm & gettin’ the visa early. (Bit of sweet talkin’) Fuck. I guess I’m goin’ to India. Fuck. I didn’t really see this happening, I barely packed, just jeans, a shirt & sneakers. Couple more shirts in the bag. I’m wildly unprepared. Didn’t even get my rabies jab. Didn’t get malaria tablets. I just kind figured I’d fucked it. I’m not sure I even wanna go anymore. I’m kinda sick of traveling. I want a job, money, to see my friends.  Probably shouldn’t be going really. 

Oh well. Fuck it.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

The Trial

I'm up at 5am with a thick head as usual. I've got three days to try & get an Indian visa sorted before I leave for my trip (yes, I'm an idiot).  I don't know why I left it for so late, maybe it's because it just hasn't felt real up to this point. I dunno, maybe I just don't wanna go!  The plan is to set off early, get to the India Visa Bureau just as it opens & try to sort this shit out ASAP! Great plan, except we arrive too early, we're both starving, but the place we're in is a greyish hell, cold steel shutters over the shop windows, grey roads, grey skies (grey people). No chance of food.  As I sit & wait, the cold, brick building looming over me, I see a man walk up to the car park toilets, he reads the sign saying they're out of order, so simply takes a quick glance about, unzips his fly & pees right where's he's standing, up against the sign (surely some irony in that). I have to leave.  It's opening time, I'm expecting bureaucracy of Kafka level proportions! What I actually find is one of the nicest, most helpful bunch of folks I've ever met. They even let me by with a few mistakes on my form, wrong type of visa, wrong name - Don't judge I do have four of them! All is well.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Just Get Me There

I was wrong to think I was ever okay with flying. I just despise everything about planes. Locked into a claustrophobic metal tube, held in the air by what can only be magic as the air recirculates around, each time round getting more and more riddled with other people's germs. And people. People. I'm in a constant battle of simultaneously enjoying & despising the company of others. Someone took it upon themselves to spill beer on me. Of all things BEER! I could deal with being wet, it's just the Goddamn smell. The smell of 'The Queen Vic's' brown & gold worn carpet. It stays with you. My initial reaction is to punch them in their face. Of course I end up being the one saying sorry, like its my fault for getting in the way of their beer. I hate flying.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Not So Hungry Horse

I gingerly open my left eye, blinding light, throbbing headache behind it. I stand up. Stomach upside down. Car battery taste in the back of my throat. Yep. It's a hangover. ADE & Dorian look a little rough around the edges too. It's always more bearable being hungover when the people around you are. Misery loves company & so does a wilting liver. I have vague memories of getting in a bit of an altercation on the train home. Well I remember it starting off like that, some kid thought we were idiots, but he didn't realise my maths degree trumped his computer science degree. Somehow we all ended up chatting, not even sure what about. Maybe sausage rolls? It's not important. What is important is getting some food. Dorian takes us to a Huungry Horse down the road (it's cheap and so are we). Sorta place that you know everyone inside will be up to date on both Coronation Street and Emmerdale. On the menu there's a Sunday Roast & mann I've been craving one - sadly when your order arrives in two minutes 36 seconds you do worry slightly about the quality. Everything on the plate is the same insipid beige colour. OMG. I'm eating the food representation of how my hangover is making me feel.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Oktoberfest

It's 6am & Dorian is driving down the M1 towards LDN, the fog is so damn thick - well I think it's fog, could be the physical representation of this hangover. I don't know how this kid is driving mann, if my motor functions are at 50% right now, I'd be surprised. I'm barely human. We've got some time to kill before ADE arrives, so I decide now's a good time to get a hair cut, unfortunately I seem destined to keep these curls forever. Can't find a single place, well that's not quite true, I found one. £45 for a trim. Suck my ass. Doesn't matter, ADE has met us at Kings Cross & an old friend Noah is going to meet us at the beer festival. When beer is served at a minimum of two pints at a time, you're gonna have trouble. People in costumes, passing out on the ground, shits in the urinals (probably because everyone in the actual toilets are doing drugs). It takes us a while to get into the festivities, mainly because we're feeling it from the night before, but also because we're behind everyone else. Eventually though we start to mix, climbing over tables to get to people, picking up drinks off the floor, throwing beers to make a point (kinda dramatic, ya know? Can always pick up another) - people didn't really like this though, lost a few conversations from dropping a beer. There's one girl in a group we've settled on, she's leaving early, I decide it's my mission to get her number for Dorian (which I succeed at) but I'm there and she is saying how young we all are, I obviously lie and say we're all twenty four. She was twenty eight though! Twenty eight! My sister is twenty eight. Still got the number though. All yours Dorian. Suddenly, like a train carrying 1,000 litres of beer, the beer hits us too much. We gotta get outta here. Dorian is falling asleep standing up. The plans for staying out the whole night in LDN have been shattered, we head back to MK with our tails between our legs. Stupid two pint beers.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

X

Last minute ADE gets in touch & says; 'He's throwin' a beer pong party TONIGHT! Bring beer...& wine!' Wine!? Fuck. Dorian has recently moved away, MK, but he's not one to miss out, before we've even got enough people invited to the party he's half way down the *road* (bear in mind him & ADE are going to a beer festival in LDN tomorrow...) Everyone comes prepared with beer & wine (thanks Trevor Beaton), everybody is having a wicked time, particularly the boys, when you get them together there is ALways trouble - Will agrees to go to LDN tomorrow with the other two (this is the perpetually poor Will, who actually has a hair cut tomorrow & no right to be doing anything that costs money). The kid is trying to persuade others to go before he's even bought his own ticket, people at the party, even ringing around friends in LDN. There's some interest, but any arrangements made after 12am aren't usually set in stone. (Except for Will, he's booked his ticket. Idiot). The fog is clearing. The beginnings of soberness are finding me. I need to do something about this haircut. (I suppose a sober thought, but at 1am, probably best left until the morning) Right. Plan of action! Home. Change. Leave a note for the hairdressers. Back to party. It all sounds so simple. What actually happens is a very boozy, very cold stumble home. When I arrive I decide a full English breakfast is a fantastic idea. (It actually was). Then I sit down to write what will be the strangest letter to a hairdresser I will ever write. 'Dear Gemma, I'm so sorry I won't be able to attend our appointment tomorrow. From Will x' & I slipped £10 inside. Why!? Why a kiss? - I don't even send my mother a kiss. Why is the note so vague? Andand why £10? People cancel all the time, I don't need to pay. I have no money to pay. Fuck. Ah well, back to the party, it's settled down to bodies scattered on sofas (how long was I gone?) I pick a spot at the feet of Dorian (there was actually a bed upstairs) & just as it seems I've settled for the night, Dorian's alarm awakens me from my hazy sleep. 6am. I'm going to LDN. Fuck.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

The Man Made Me Change This

Lee is the next friend on my list of embarrassing stories, if I didn’t change her name she would probably kill me for this. She’s another friend who likes to travel, Montreal this time with a few friends, a couple of which are gay, so gay clubs are first in order for the night. They ALL have too much to drink & this is quite clear to see judging from all of the dancing they’re doing, Gill is the first to disappear, he & a guy head towards the bathroom, Lee is left dancing alone, not for long though as a girl comes over and starts making a move. You could blame it on the drinks, or you could blame it on sexual tension, but Lee lets this happen (Lee is straight, ya know?), dancing turns to kissing & kissing turns to them making their way into a bathroom stall. So there Lee is in a bathroom stall in a gay club in Montreal, with a girl going down on her. On the stall to her left is her best friend Princess, repeatedly asking her if she’s okay, On the stall to her right is Lee’s other best friend Gill, who’s getting it on with none other than the brother of the chick she’s with. Well this is all too much for Lee, she’s not even gay (or at least she tells us she’s not), so she tells the girl she’s fine, pull up her pants & busts through the doors yelling; ‘I love penis!’

Well, they do say, ‘try everything once’. (Except blogging, don’t you dare do that. That’s my thing)

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Thank God it's Not Me

A different tale & a different friend, David, it's a few years back so we're all young jerks, in Ibiza spending more money than any of us had the right to spend.  It's the last night & we have an early flight to catch in the morning, so just dinner, drinks, and then off to bed, nothing more.  David though meets a beautiful baby that he's already seen twice during  the holiday, but has yet to hook up with. He tells us, he's just gonna go out for a bit, necks his drink and walks off with his gal.  BANGBANGBANG!  'David! David! You gotta wake up mann, we have to leave for the flight in 10 minutes.'  David slowly stirs, but feels slightly strange as he does so, his boozy blurred vision begins to focus and he can suddenly see his surroundings. He sees shit. Literally shit. Shit all over himself, shit on the girl next to him, the beds covered!  'OMGOMGOMG!'  'I mean, I mean is this my shit, or her shit or..or.' David gets up & looks around the room, shit on the walls, everywhere, it stinks, he needs some air so he rips open the balcony door to take a breath but out there a chair is just sat, with a pile of shit on it, slowly beginning to sink through the holes on the chair.  'FUCKKK!'  He has got no time to panic though, he has ten minutes before he has to leave for the flight, he shuts the door again, showers best he can (will he ever be clean), throws pretty much everything in the bath and fills it with water.  He makes the plane & I suppose everything is fine as the hotel never says anything, butbut what gets me is that he hasn't got a clue what happened, last thing he remembers is downing that drink & heading to a club. No idea. None at all. All I want to do is figure it out, but I guess I'll never know.  Oh and he saw the girl a month later. They hooked up. 

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Compost

Ito is an interesting character, whatever time of year he’ll be in jeans and a jacket, no matter how hot, and they never quite fit - that has always annoyed me actually, good looking guy, but he dresses like a bum, but these details are all minor. What really interests me is how normal he is during the day, goes to all his classes, does all his homework and works out everyday, but at night he manages to go absolutely insane!  One night I come in and he’s on the couch, smilin’ & laughin’, I ask him; “What’s up?"  "I’m a twig?” He motions to his legs. We’re each clearly as fucked as the other is and I starting laughing!  “Both you’re legs are a twig?"  "Legs? I wish, I’m just one big pin from the neck down. And my head, it’s a balloon, I’m the Google drop pin!” “Hahaha. Mann, you’re fucked. I’m gonna get some food though."  "Ha….” He smiles to himself. I go to the kitchen and notice that the recycling compost pot is gone.  “Ido? Where’s the recycling gone?"  "Hmm, what you on about?” “The recycling, the little box on… Dude? Why is the recycling next to you &..& why are you holding a fork to it?"  "Nono, that’s curry, I ate it when I came in!"  "Mann, no, that’s the recycling. You ate it! You fuckin’ ate it’ there were tea bags in there! How bad are you!?"  This is the guy who normally freaks out when the slightest thing is wrong with his food. I had to eat a moldy olive once because Ido had already eaten a couple and if he’d found out I think he would have died. "Fuck this, I’m going to bed, it’s making me sick just thinking about it." 

When I eventually wake up the next day & drag myself downstairs. There’s Ido, back from the gym, protein shake in hand! 

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

Focus

Another friend of mine Ito, has never done well with stress, or under pressure (or in life) so come our final exams he was a bit of a mess, worked himself up into a real frenzy. All of this led him to buying (lowkey of course) ADHD medication, allowing him to concentrate for long periods of time and power through all his essays. I find him at the library on the day of, tells me he already tried it at home, a 'test run', ended up tidying his room for two hours, bleaching everything, throwing things away that weren't immediately important to him. To me this sounded awful, to him it's a success (and to his girlfriend a triumph - she always hated his messy room). When his tablets kick in, he just goes for IT, typing away like a madman, I expect to see smoke coming off the keys as he types. It goes like this for a while, until *buzz*, his phone goes off. Facebook notification. Oh dear. He spends the next hour scrolling through his newsfeed with the same speed as he was typing. When it looks like it's slowing down, I head his way just to check he's doing alright, what I see is a nearly completed essay, an essay without a single space between words. He's fucked. 

 He got an 81 on the essay.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

LadsLeedsLads

I'm home from Ibiza (fear not, nothing of REAL interest happened there) & given no time to think, Dorian & ADE have arranged a trip to Leeds. Of course I have no money, so I just tell my parents I'm staying at a friends house - 'The Holiday Inn', a truly great friend of mine. I know it's going to be a boozy day when beers accompany breakfast, this also means an expensive day, but the boys let me off with a few things - by let off I don't mean they let me off without any abuse, ordering a child's burger and paying with five pence pieces, meant I took a lotttt of shit (worth it). For the boys the last few hours have been a blur of alcohol, cigarettes etc... It's gone one in the morning before they even contemplate leaving the hotel, however through lack of club entry and ADE ducking out on a girl they're back home some time after four o'clock. Once home Dorian keeps getting texts and calls from a girl everyone knew from school that he took upon himself to reconnect with. Of course when he did this he wasn't aware she was gourded most of the time & and had a violent ex boyfriend who was often on nights out when she was. ADE is very much pro for going to see her. Will is less so, 'Once he's in bed why on earth would you move for anyone' ( maybe Leo) The little devil on Dorian's shoulder (ADE) wins out though and Dorian is back out waiting for her. He decides to wait in a bush, that way when he sees her coming he can still change his mind and leave. He doesn't change his mind, well not right away anyway, he changes it when she says she doesn't actually have a place to stay tonight, butbut does know a drug dealer with a spare room. Dorian is home PRETty sharpish after that.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

LA Kicks

If I'm honest we didn't really do anything in LA, that doesn't mean we didn't have fun, it's just hard to put into an interesting story. We were staying at a cousin of one of Leo's family friends (a rather tenuous link, but he was more than happy to accommodate us) the kid (I say kid but I'm not actually sure how old he was, 18 maybe?) had been left in a house in LA for a few months and had a few more to go before his mother came back, this wasn't one of those stories where she says she's going for a few days and never comes back, she was actually working abroad. So of course an 18 year old in an unsupervised house meant lots of PlayStation, lots of alcohol and lots of weed. He was a nice kid, reminded me of a blind man, didn't like to lead the way when he walked, ginger little steps, much happier being shown the way. He had a friend as well, the definition of a stoner, I don't think I spoke to him once when he wasn't high, his voice drawling out words, as if they were all one long one and in a barely audible mumble. The weed over in California is crazy, it's like a religion to them, they can't get enough of the stuff, all coming up with vague stories for the doctor to get a prescription. 'Oh I have anxiety.' 'When i wake up I'm not hungry until 2 o'clock,' a favourite of mine. We got Ramen once as well. That was nice.

[thinkingisgoodwritingisbetter]

21 Beers, 5 Stages of Grief & 2 Idiots

Leo & I are in Portland now, don’t ask about the trip from San Diego, it was a tiresome blur of sleepin’ in the car & greazzy motels! I like Portland. Leo likes Portland. It’s possibly too hipster for its own good. $30 for a gluten free smoothie made from vinyls, served in an old Converse, drunk while sitting on a wooden crate. I DO like it though. We decide to head out to the main strip for the day & STAY out! Unfortunately (as is usually the case) we didn’t look up anything & walk a good hour before hittin’ the bars and as is ALWAYS the case we jump in the first one we see and stay there. We don’t mean to at first, we have a few wells and a bit of food, but there’s this huge board above the bar advertising the 21 house ales they have, funky names, different strengths & what starts out as a joke, becomes a playful idea, becomes us puttin’ an order in for 21 beers each. The barman doesn’t know what to do at first, it’s never been done before, he goes into the back to check with his boss, he’s on board ($100 odd dollars of beer, why wouldn’t he say yes?) only deal is we can only have 4 each at a time, drink them and then move on! The best way I could describe this experience is that it was like the Kübler-Ross ‘5 stages of grief’ model. Drink the first four beers. Denial. 'Well we can’t actually, do 21, it’s ridiculous, it just won’t happen. Four more. Anger. 'Leo you idiot, why did you agree to this!?’ 'What do you mean I pushed for it, you pushed for it!’. Four more. Bargaining. 'Leo, let’s just do the ones we like, forget the coffee and dark chocolate ones. Yeah?’. Four…more. Depression. *sobs*. Four more?? Acceptance. 'Well that wasn’t so bad was it Leo, only one more after this. Don’t really know what you were complaining about’. The final beer (heavenly music plays). We did it Leo, we did it you sonofabitch! They agree to name the challenge after us, nobody has done it before. The barman says we should go out for a drink with him now we’re done because he’s clocking off. A drink? Are you mad. Obviously were goin’.

Jesus fuck. I’m drunk.