...Where Credit is Due

My Friends,
   I'm back home in Canada after circling the globe over the past 107 days.  It was in many ways not the trip I was expecting but perhaps for that exact reason it was also exactly the trip I was expecting.  For you see I was looking for adventure, something which is eminently un-plannable, and adventure is what I got.
   However, the success of this venture rested on more than just my own overtures toward worldliness and Quixotic affectations.  Rather, I was helped at almost every step by others; some I knew beforehand, most I did not.  I would like to take this opportunity to thank those who made my trip not only what it was, but possible in the first place.
   So, Thank-You...

To my friend Tommy and my brother Adam for helping me try to get financial assistance for the trip.  It may not have been successful but it was a lot of fun to hang out and make videos.

To Steve and Lynn from modrobes for the clothing you provided and the re-supply mid-expedition.

To Mark from Oakley U.S.A. for your generosity.

To Maria, Victor and Wilson, the first three people who showed me any kind of goodwill in my trip but whose contact information I lost in the robbery.  Thank-you so much and I will keep attempting to find you guys on Facebook.

To my parents for all of their help after I got robbed.  Thank-you for booking my flight back to Lisbon, scrounging through my boxes in the basement to find pieces of documentation so I could procure a new passport and making sure replacement cards, documents and gear made it out to me as quickly as possible.

To the staff of TAP Airlines in Funchal Airport for giving me money to buy lunch when I had lost everything.

To the flight attendants on my TAP flight from Funchal to Lisbon for giving me all the food I wanted after learning I got robbed.

To Bev and Darryn Cross, who saw to it that I had a hotel to stay in upon my arrival in Lisbon.

To Eneida and Gisella at the Canadian Embassy in Lisbon.  Thank you for all of the free calls and the speed with which you helped me out.

To Antonio, Antonio & Penelope for making my stay in Lisbon better than it could have been given the shitty time I was having.

To Vasil & Nadia for letting me camp in their garage during my last night in Portugal.

To "Belgian Teacher," Greg & Maria, "German Couple," Samuel, Jose, Sergei & Andrej & Dimitri, Bianca, "Hungary Dude" & "German Girl," Therese & Stefano & Hannah, "Granada Dude," "Guadix Family," "Lorca Dude," Juan & his Dad, Paul & Sonja, Andrew & Laura, Antonio, Julius, Maria Jose, Xavien, Keira & Ali, Claudia, Rene, Hugo, Tomas & Sandra, Moroccan guy who may or may not have wanted to rob me, "Gay Michele," Dominique, Miro, Benoit, "Fronk"/Franc, Mohmed & Kh____ (x2), Simon, Gwen, Claudio, Nasir(?), Orsun(?), "Gas Station Patron," "Nameless Dude," "Old Dude," Erol, Veysel, Ali, Ibrahim, Mehmet & Besir, _____ & Ramazan, "Some Trucker," "Mini-Bus Full of Dudes," "Big Bus Full of Dudes," "Turkish Family," "____ From Antakya," "_____ & ______ From Antakya," "Family in a Pick-Up Truck," "German/Turkish Couple," Hasan & Usan, _____, Mustafa & _____, The Syrian Secret-Service/Cab-Drivers, Jima, and finally Havid & Family.  Thank-you for picking me up instead of just speeding by.

To Ricky, who came out of left field to offer me his house to crash at in Rota, Spain.  Your generosity was overwhelming.

To Annelies & Annejet, who gave me sunscreen, a pink towel and would have given me a ride to Malaga but I slept in like a dunce.

To Toby, who came back and picked me up from McDonald's just like he said he would.

To the Collet family who picked me up and let me stay in their beautiful home.  If you have any plans to visit the south of France you should definitely consider a stay in one of their residences: http://www.bormeslesmimosas.com/locationscoulomb/.

To Neil, who showed me around San Remo, bought me a bus ticket, and warned me about just how corrupt Italy was on arrival.

My cousin Steven and his family in Legnano, Italy.  Thank-you for your hospitality, helping me deal with lazy Italian officials, and the delicious food which fattened me up for the cold weather which laid before me.

To Imad and Lina who made me feel at home in Beirut, took me around the city and included me in their Christmas-tree decorating.

To the proprietors of the cafe in the Suez bus station for letting me crash in the back-room.

To Jima, who picked me up, took me into his home and broke bread with me during my last night in Egypt.

To Brian for for offering his flat in Zanzibar which I never made it to.

To Robert for sharing his campfire in Ein Gedi.

To Amina & Gulmyra, my Kazakh "aunts" who forced me to eat with them on the train and led me to the bus station in Almaty.

To "Opie," who made my welfare the highest priority in his life.

To the Chongqing Police Force for allowing me to use your computers and inviting me to share your Christmas dinner.

To Erich and Serena, for inviting me into your home and the delicious perma-cultured eggs.

To everyone I met who posted pics on my Facebook.  Thank-you so much for enabling me to have photographic reminders even after the loss of my camera.

To my regiment and my friends back home.  Thank-you for being there if I needed something taken care of.

To all my siblings who were supportive of me through the duration of my time away.

To my sister Tanya who posted entries for me while I was in China and unable to access anything but hotmail.

And finally, to my beautiful woman, Chelsea.  Thank-you for not making me feel bad about leaving and for encouraging me in all my goals.

Nobody makes it through this life on their own and even when I felt most alone, I knew I wasn't.


Oh the song of the future has been sung
All the battles have been won
On the mountaintops we stand
All the world at our command
                      -Gordon Lightfoot

Stay Thirsty,
Andre Guantanamo

Dick-Punching the Sunrise

My Friends,
   The travels go well.  I am currently south of Perris, California staying in the house of some friends whom I had the pleasure of meeting my second day in California.  But more on that later, as there is a bit of a gap between where I left off last time in Chongqing, China and where I am at now.  Sooooooooooooo, herrre it is.
   I took the train from Chonqqing to Shnghai early on Christmas morning and was pleasantly surprised at how comfortable and livable it was.  It was a sleeper car like the one I had taken in Kazakhstan but it looked quite modern and not like a Soviet relic.  Now I had meant to purchase a sitting ticket from the ticket booth the previous day, but either through lack of understanding or lack of availability, the ticket-sellers (five of them crowded the ticket window giving me googly-eyes [even the guy in the group] and taking part in the selling of the ticket process after waving me to the front of the line in front of a bunch of pissed-off locals.  Sometimes being a westerner in a foreign land pays off) had sold me a sleeper ticket.  As it was an overnight train I really couldnt lament this.
   My bunkmate was a cool guy and we communicated as well as we could with no common language.  Never got his name though... The ride was ultimately uneventful though and the most exciting break in the monotony was our actual arrival in Shanghai.
   Immediately I took the metro to People's Sqaure in the city-center and set about finding a hotel.  There was no looking for a spot to camp in this city; I was determined to spoil myself with a bed for my stay.  I found accommodation fairly quick (got a good price by taking a room with no windows ... also, there was a dead body under the bed but that wasnt factored into the price), stashed my bag and I was off.  More than anything, what characterized my stay in Shanghai was the gluttonous consumption of food; For realz, everything was so good and so cheap that I couldn't justify depriving myself of anything.  I won't rhyme off everything I had but honourable mention for the fried pork dumplings served at "Yang's Fried Dumplings" (more than just a clever name).  Four big, delicious balls of goodness for 6 Yuan ($1 USD).  The old lady at the register laughed knowingly when I went back for seconds.
   Between all of this consumption of foodstuffs I also find time to sightsee.  My first night I walked to the river that runs through the city (too lazy to google the name) and admired the skyline of the city's Pudong region.  The architecture here (and really, all over the city) is striking and very different from that seen in most North American cities.  The Oriental Pearl...

Pictured Here: Far Left and Bulbous

...in particular goes a long way to making the view very futuristic-looking and awe-inspiring.  The city also has some large malls; two of these I visited, and to deal with the lack of space in the city both were built 7 or 8 stories high.

   My second day in I took a walk south and by chance found a garment district.  While I looked at some counterfeit watches and debated having a tailored tweed jacket made, I decided to opt for small souvenir bracelets only, as I already had a watch and didn't want more clothing weighing down my pack.  Toward the end of the second day I decided that although the view around the river was nce, the view of the ocean on the east side of Pudong must be even better.  So I took an hour long train trip to the end of the line but realized with dismay that I couldnt get through to the water because there was an airport in the way.  I entertained the notion of going around the airport but after running for fifteen minutes the road ended and I realized that if it was indeed a picturesque coastline they wouldn't have put an airport in the way.  I made my way back to the train station, sobered and a little wiser for my troubles.

  Day three I managed to find a bookstore which had a small English section and picked up book 3 and 4 of Stephen King's "Dark Tower" series.  Its pretty good so far and good airplane reading.  After this unlikely find I made my way to the Shanghai museum where I spent the better part of my day.  It was good and all but I found myself speeding through it as I was tired and not really in a museum-going mood.  Still, I felt compelled to culture myself so I took it all in even after the point my eyeballs had gone bleary and vacant.  After a large dinner I made my way to the airport with my bag to wait for my flight and also for what would be the longest day or recent memory.
   My night in the airport was sleepless which didn't bother me too much cause I had about 13 hours of flying to crush so I figured Id have plenty of time to doze.  One thing I will say is that ramen does not make a substantial meal on its own; I went through two giant bowls of it while I waited in the airport and still was incredibly hungry for most of the night.
   Flew to Japan for a thee-hour layover.  While Shanghai had had its fair share of whitey it was still dominated by Asians.  Not the case with the Tokyo Narita airport; not only were their a ton of white people there but black folk as well.  I literally don't think I had seen any black people at all in Kazakhstan or China.  A lot of the white guys in the airport were also fat neckbeards which leads me to believe that they were in Japan to hone their bushido skills or were on the road to Viridian City.

Little do they know that Giovanni has a trick up his sleeve

Ultimately, it was bitter-sweet; the change in complexions was indicative of how far I had come but I was sadly, no longer the sole foreigner whom everyone was gawking at. 

   Took a ten-hour flight to LA from Tokyo and en route I finally watched Bridesmaids, The Hangover 2 and Bad Teacher, a couple films movies which I had been meaning to see for some time.  Upon landing, I shared a cab to Santa Monica with Paul.  He was killing time on a layover to New Zealand.  I had been in that situation myself a few years back and had gone to Santa Monica as well...

...so I took it upon myself to show him around some.  When we parted ways I took a train east to the city of Riverside on a whim.  Walked SE hard from the station til about 1130 pm and had one of the deepest sleeps of recent memory (remember I had been up for 36 hours because with the time change of flying east across the Pacific I essentially had the length of my day doubled and had been watching movies instead of sleeping on the plane).  I woke up to a beautiful sunrise over south Riverside.  I'm not sure what it is for certain but the sunset the night before had been equally beautiful.  Perhaps its just the smog.

   Anyway, after waking up that morning in Riverside I walked SE til I got to Interstate 215 South.  Walked along there for a while til I got incredibly tired and sore around 1130.  Hit a Starbucks south of Perris, and while there I got to talking to Eric.  Turns out he and his wife practice "permaculture," which is, briefly, self-sufficient farming which takes care of itself to a large measure.  Their primary output is free-range eggs.  He was quite passionate about the superior quality of these oeufs  and after showing me pics of the darker coloring of the yolks I was pretty enthusiastic myself.  At length he asked if I would like to come by and try some eggs.  It sounded like an excellent idea to me.

   At his house he showed me the whole egg-farming operation they had set up and they fried me up a couple sunny-side up.  When the chickems have a more varied diet than simply just generic feed the yolks are a darker marigold colour and quite good. 

   After lunch, Eric and his wife, Serena asked me if I would like to sleep in their guest room for the night instead of camping.  How could I say no?  So I stayed and today after sleeping in til noon (hopefully getting over my jet-lag) I was taught the game, "Go."  Apparently its a game as old as chess, and quite strategic.  It almost reminded me of a cross between Minesweeper and Checkers.  Apparently I did good for a first -timer ... basically I got my ass handed to me.  Later I went to Eric and Serena's church for their evening prayers, and afterward Eric took me around to show me the architecture as I had expressed some interest in seeing the various design features, many of which were imported from places I had been in the past few months (Doors from Antakya, Turkey for example). 

  I am here for one more night and since it is still 2011 here for another two hours I am still planning my night.  Since everyone here is early to bed for a wedding tomorrow I think I may go out a little later on for a walk around the neighbourhood.  Eric tells me that the local Mexicans play some raucous Mariachi music on Saturday nights and I think crashing one of these jam sessions could be kinda fun.  Aside from that I leave for Vegas tomorrow via my thumb and when I get there I will start making plans to fly home.  I'm pretty damn excited.

Stay Thirsty,

-Andre Guantanamo

Central Asia Recap Part One: Kazakhstan

My Friends,
   Due to the unreliable internets access I have been made to endure as of late, I havent been the prolific bloggeur I normally am.  Let me perhaps rectify this by filling in some of the blanks of the last couple of weeks. 
   I left the balmy beach weather of Israel on 16 December.  This was a significant departure because it was my final good-bye to my beloved Mediterranean.  More than simply a sea to me, I had swam in its warm waters, interacted with its peoples and used its coastline as a navigational aid for months.  I treasured my last Mediterranean sunset walking on the beach in Tel Aviv and even got a lil' misty.
   My plane from Israel took me first to Kiev, Ukraine for a 9-hour layover.  I had planned for this and I used the extended downtime to make a foray into the former Soviet-bloc city.  Luckily, by entering the country instead of simply waiting in the designated layover area I copped some pretty new bling (read: stamps) for my passport.  The bus ride to Kiev took awhile but I actually like the city a lot.  It was very beautiful and the people seemed really friendly.  The food and drinks were cheap and although wet, it was not too cold.  My only complaint was how cozy and warm all the little shops seemed: the Christmas spirit was in the air and watching happy couples gazing longingly into each others eyes over hot cocoa/coffee by a warm fire really drove home the point of my loneliness over the holidays.  It was far easier to stick to the cold air of the outdoors than torture myself by going into these shops and getting a closer look at what I was missing out on.  I have resolved that I will one day go back to Kiev with my woman during the Christmas season and enjoy it like I was not able to during this first visit.
   Went back to the airport, waited some and got on my plane for the four-hour flight to Astana, Kazakhstan.  I had heard from a chick in my hostel in Israel that Kazakhstan was like -20C and I joked that I was going to freeze my balls off although I was secretly concerned.  But having already submitted my passport for the visa I could do little with this knowledge except steel my nerves against the expected onslaught of cold weather.  I began to think to myself that -20C wasnt that cold.  After all, I have experienced that in Canada and survived.  If nothing else, the cold weather would be a boon; people would be more likely to take pity on this hitch-hiker and pick him up.  In retrospect, such imaginings and self-reassurances seem sheer folly, but you'd be surprised what you can convince yourself of when you need to.  So, "prepared" as I was for -20C, I was dismayed beyond words when, as we pulled into Astana airport at 530am, the captain said the weather was -27C.  I hadnt planned for this, and this extra 7 degrees of coldness may as well  have been an extra 50 degrees of coldness.  I took a glance around the airplane and saw everyone pulling on their bubblegooses (puffy coats) and furs, while all I had was a Von Dutch zip-up sweater and a wind-breaker.  What the F had I gotten myself into?
   Still, maybe -27C wasnt as cold as it was cracked up to be.  I hadnt experienced it since last winter so I really shouldnt be so quick to judge, as my faculties of memory might have been flawed.  They were not.  Just getting off the plane and feeling the slightest touch of outside air chilled me to the bone.  I realized this simply wouldn't do.  I thought long and hard about my options after clearing customs and waiting in the front entrance of the airport, shivering in spite of myself every time the door opened and someone entered.  I resolved that I would get the fudge out of the city by means other than hitch-hiking and to the former capital of Almaty, as it was at least a manageable -7C or so.  So I cabbed it to the Astana train station (of course the cabby had to be parked at the other end of the parking lot) and got a ticket for that night's train to Almaty.  Having to wait 15 hours in the Astana train station was a trying experience: the multitudinous police and security officers present were so unaccustomed to a Westerner that they took me aside and detained me while they looked through my passport and joked about my shoes, my manner of dress and prolly my facial hair.  This particular incident happened in the morning but I had passport checks all day and was continually harrassed about where I sat, lying on my foam mat while waiting and charging my ipod.  It got to the point that I started being a little bit of a prick and whenever they would make eye contact with me I would hold up my passport and ticket and insist they check it while cursing at them audibly (they didnt understand Englirsh anyway). 
   It was so bad that my only reprieve from this intrusiveness was the dreaded cold; I made the arduous 60 second trek to a nearby cafe, almost died in the process, and spent an hour or two there drinking coffee and keeping warm.  I noticed the sun (which had gingerly risen around 10 am) during the walk to this cafe.  It sat so low on the southern horizon even at "high noon" that I swore I had entered the Arctic circle (and who knows, maybe I had; I really didnt do much research on Kazakhstan before deciding to go there as foreknowledge and preparation often preclude wacky adventures).  I dont want to overstate the cold weather but you must understand my situation: My upper body and legs were perhaps warm enough to survive for protracted periods of time in the cold (not comfortably mind you), but my footwear of choice is Vibram Five Fingers KSO Treks.  These are a barefoot equivalent shoe which mimic the barefoot very well, particularly in their almost complete absence of resilience to cold weather.  There was only 6mm of rubber between me and the snow and my toes were separated which made them chill that much faster.  I literally may as well have been walking out there barefoot.
   Whatever though, I survived the day and made it to the train (although the walk on the platform was another trying experience).  The compartment I was in had two young guys and two old ladies on it who became essentially my Kazakh aunts, insisting that I eat with them and drink tea with them.  It was a very pleasant train ride considering noone spoke English.  Also, I finally got warm.  The train itself bears some mention because it was incredibly old-looking and it seemed to me that it was very possibly a Soviet relic which I thought was kinda cool.
   We arrived in Almaty the next night and one of my aunties insisted on taking me to the international bus station so I could buy a ticket to Urumqi, China.  Almaty was warmer but still not as warm as I would have liked, and I was forced to walk outside for over half an hour, poorly-equipped.  We got me set up for a bus leaving the following night and I stayed in the bus-station dorm.  It was a fun night as I got invited to drink with some Kazakh taxi drivers taking a "vodka break" in the kitchen of my hotel (I didn't write that last bit as a joke, but its actually kinda funny).  We crushed their whole bottle (smoothe stuff) then I figured "fuck it", and busted out my bottle of cheap scotch from the Kiev duty-free.  We crushed that too and smoked my pipe and I woke up feeling like shit the next morning.  My wake-up was even worse because it was conducted by the Kazakh cleaning lady who was yelling at me to get out in a voice that sounded like a cross between a cat being strangled and a little girl being raped.  I had to kill the day in Almaty waiting for my night-time bus departure.  I spent a good three hours internetting across from the station.  It was during this time that I learned from FB friends that Kazakhstan had declared a state of emergency in response to unruly labourers in the Southwest who were protesting the government for something (higher wages, better hours, more jobs, etc...).  We had passed near this region en route to Almaty while I was sleeping on the train two nights before.  Leave it to me to sleep through a conflict. 

   Around 10 pm on my third day in Kazakhstan I boarded my overnight bus to Urumqi, China.  It was awesome because I was expecting to be sitting up for the whole 24+ hour ride but it was a sleeper bus stocked with thick fleecy blankets.  I dwelt on the cleanliness of the blankets for less than an instant and got to the business of sleep real quick.  My awakening the next morning was a rude one: my busmates telling me to get my passport out because we were getting boarded by the Kazakh miltary.  Fortunately this was no random passport check; it was the first (of several) passport checks to go through the border to China.  The border crossing took about two hours as all the bus companies seemed not to co-ordinate their schedules, so there was a surfeit of people trying to get through the border, and these people had seemingly not grasped the concept of "a line:" I literally had to occupy my whole border lane to prevent little Asians from pushing past me.  In this instance my backpack came in handy for occupying space as it is roughly the size of a small Asian.

   Much more pleasant than exiting Kazakhstan was entering China.  There was a 5km or so "no mans land" between the two countries which was traversed only by my bus apparently.  What this meant in practice was that all of those people from the various buses that came through all piled onto my bus and I almost didnt even get a spot.  Plus this old man who was mad that he didnt get on the bus before me kept pushing me from behind.  It took all of my patience not to clock the Kazakh fuck.  But like I said, entering China was fine: in fact because I was so conspicuous in the crowd of Asians, the Chinese authorities pushed me to the front of the line which happened to be right on front of the pushiest fucks from the bus ride over, much to their Kazakh chagrin.  It was a small victory but a victory nonetheless.  The process was delayed a little by passport control who kept looking back and forth between me and my passport pic.  He even called a friend over to get his opinion on if it was really me.  That was really the only hiccup. 

   Clearing customs was a lot like clearing customs in Egypt though; as soon as I was free of security the hustlers and hucksters wanted a piece of me.  Many were holding wads of Chinese money to change but I had read about rampant counterfeiting in China and opted not to change my money with these disreputable seeming characters.  We had a quick lunch China-side and were on our way.  It wasn't until after midnight that we reached Urumqi, and the bus saw fit to drop us off at a hotel instead of the bus station.  This was problematic because Urumqi was not much warmer than Almaty and I really wanted to be on my way further south to the city of Chengdu in the Sichuan province.  In the next few hours I had one of my weirdest experiences thus far, but alas, that's a story for the sequel.

Stay Thirsty

-Andre Guantanamo 

Holdıng ın a Fart for Chına

My Friends,
   I am playıng the waıtıng game rıght now ın Ankara;: I always suspected that applyıng for a vısa was an arduous process, thus my comparıson to ıt beıng lıke wıtholdıng flatulence; I cant be bothered.  Sımply put, and thıs ıs perhaps my arrogance talkıng, but ıf a foreıgn government wants me to jump through hoops to enter theır country then ıts theır loss.  Stıll, not all countrıes are created equal, and whıle there are many countrıes requırıng entrance vısas I would be happy to say nukka peace to, Chına ıs not one of those countrıes.
   Thıs ıs for two reasons: fırst ın practıcal terms, ıt ıs sımply rıght there where I need to be.  Whıle ıt ıs technıcally possıble to move through Asıa wıthout hıttıng Chına, havıng a vısa there allows you greater movement through the contınent because ıt ıs essentıally the frıggın contınent.  Second, there ıs so much hıstory and beauty there that I would be derelıct ın my duty as a professed traveler ıf I skıpped ıt.
   Now Ive never been one for plannıng except when ıt comes to parenthood, so naturally I dıdnt purchase any vısas before I left Canada.  However the research I dıd before I left ındıcated that I would be able to purchase a vısa upon entrance lıke I dıd ın Turkey.  Yet I thought ıt prudent to check the Chınese embassy ın Ankara to confırm that before I left the cıty.  Sure enough I would have been ın for a nasty surprıse ıf I trıed to land there wıthout prıor approval.  So thıs left me ın a bıt of tıght spot because ıt was thursday at around 1030 am, I had to get a letter of confırmatıon of ıdentıty from the Canadıan Embassy stıll, and the Chınese embassy ıs only open Mondays Wednesdays and Thursdays untıl noon.  Quıckly I fılled out all the forms as best I could then set out for the Canadıan embassy runnıng as fast as I could wıth my backpack.  Luckıly I had passed the Canadıan embassy earlıer searchıng for the Chınese one and I headed back there to get my confırmatıon letter but they wouldnt let me ın.  In fact the guards couldnt even speak Englısh.  I started flashıng my passport and makıng demands lıke get me someone who speaks Englısh.  That they responded to my demands was lıkely due more to theır seeıng my desperate state rather than any bass ın my voıce.  They got a dude on the phone who ınstructed me I was at the Embassy Resıdence and not the Embassy.
   The guards called me a cab and I got to the rıght embassy a few mınutes later.  By the tıme I made ıt through securıty I was dıshevelled to say the least.  I had to waıt for some couple to fınısh theır ıntervıew as I watched the mınutes race by.  FInally ıt was my turn and to the guys credıt he typed up my letter of confırrmatıon pretty quıck but then lıke a douche he charged me 50 bucks for ıt (Note: one thıng that has been made paınfully obvıous to me ın the last couple of months ıs that consular servıces are not cheap.  I prolly could have saved a ton by stayıng home, throwıng my backpack ın the garbage, tuckıng my passport ınto my ass and hıdıng behınd a tree.  Lesson learned).
   I made haste back to the Chınese embassy and handed the lady my passport, vısa applıcatıon form and letter of confırmatıon wıth 15 mınutes to spare.  Her next words were lıke a dagger ın my heart: Do you have a passport photo?  WHAT PART OF THE GAME IS THAT, LADY?  Then I remembered I had had pıcs taken for my replacement passport ın Lısbon and they had gıven sıx when I only needed two.  I searched through my stuff but they were not there.  I was at a loss.  Sensıng my desparatıon and takıng pıty on me the lady formulated a plan of actıon whıch ıncluded her helpıng me beyond regularly scheduled embassy hours and holdıng onto my passport ın lıeu of pıcs, a detaıl whıch I glazed over at the tıme as I was payıng heed to her ınstructıons and quıte frazzled by thıs poınt.
   So off I went to book accommodatıon for one more nıght and secure some passport photos, happy ın the knowledge that I was gettıng specıal treatment and all I had to do was have a mını nervous breakdown.  The detaıl of the passport she was holdıng onto came up not long after though when I pulled out my wallet to show a dude what I meant by passport photograph cause he spoke no Englısh and I needed dırectıons.  I realızed ıt was gone.  I mını-panıcked but I remembered exactly what I had done wıth ıt so that kept my manıa at sub-crıtıcal levels.  I ran back to the hotel I had stayed at to book another nıght and call the embassy to confırm that she had ıt.  The hotel was full but they let me use the phone and when I called her she seemed annoyed at my further questıonıng because ın truth she was already goıng above and beyond for me by seeıng ıf she could get me rushed servıce so I get my vısa by today.   Nonetheless she confırmed that she had my passport, although her words carrıed the ımplıcatıon that I was somethıng less than a man to her.
   I cursed myself for a fool, havıng lost track of the one pıece of ID I have ın thıs world.  Frazzled or not ıt was an unacceptable lapse.  But then the sun peeked out from the clouds and I was suddenly overcome by a sense of mırth.  After all, as long as Im alıve Im alrıght, rıght?  If I get my Chınese vısa ın one day of frantıc runnıng around and ın spıte of the ınadequacıes of my applıcatıon ıt wıll be a great moment ın travel hıstory.  If not, I spend the weekend ın Ankara; not the worst thıng ın the world as the new hotel Im stayıng at ıs cheap enough and the guy who drove me ınto the cıty mentıoned a hıkıng club whıch hıkes the beautıful mountaıns around the cıty that only meets on weekends, so even faılure could be a blessıng ın dısguıse.  Perhaps the latter outcome ıs even better because as my woman can attest to, I have thıs notıon ın my head that I can get by ın any sıtuatıon wıth no plannıng by just pullıng a wın out of my ass at the 11th hour wıth persuasıve arguıng (or cryıng as the case may be); a notıon that I sorely need to be dısabused of.  However, ıf I get my vısa today that wıll only bolster my confıdence and who knows what sıtuatıons I mıght then get myself ınto.
   Heres hopıng I get the vısa today.
Stay Thirsty,
Andre Guantanamo

Leaving it all Behind ... Not as Simple as it Sounds

My Friends,
   As I leave for my excursion around the world in less than a week I have entered prep mode in a big way. I have figured for some time that there would be certain prudent precautions to take, such as photocopying and scanning important documents so that I would have backups in case of loss or theft.  However, the military travel advisor I met with last week also recommended I go through my entire itinerary (such as it is) and write down the contact information for every Canadian embassy and consulate in every country I will be visiting.  Its sound information to be sure, but tedious as fuck.
   On top of this I still have to procure the Vibram KSO Trek Five Fingers shoes which I mentioned last week.  I went on a bit of a wild goose chase through Toronto last night looking for them and I pretty much have one last shot I am betting on before I go: a shipment arriving at Atmosphere may have the KSO Treks  in my size.  If I am unable to get those shoes, well I will have to rethink things a bit.
   To add to this there is still about $200 worth of gear I want to pick up as well as $200 worth of prescriptions which have to be ordered.  Luckily, in spite of the cost of these last two, they are all relatively easy to procure.  The only problem is that I am trying desperately trying to finish season 5 of The Wire before I go. I have seven more episodes to go so I should be ok, but it has really been interfering with my prep i.e. I got up at 8 today and spent the last three hours watching it when I should have been doing prep.
   For my benefit more than yours, here is an abbreviated to-do list that i must complete before I go:

-finish The Wire
-scan important documents
-make a list of important numbers and contact info -visa, bell, embassies, etc...
-order prescriptions (two day turnover)
-sign off on all military claims so I get all monies (sic) coming to me
-pick up last gear required
-SHOES SHOES SHOES
-finish that travel playlist (mebbe spend a morning just downloading songs)
-go on couchsurfing.org and look for available couches beyond just my first city
-have one last night alone with internet porn (note: will have to find a way to remove woman from the equation and come up with a legit reason for why "I'm tired")
-night out with the boys
-last visit with the family

So yeah I think that's it.  Wow, its a lot easier to blog about this stuff than it is to actually go out and do it.

Kinda like sex

However, I just caught a bad case of motivation so I am off to get some shit done.

Stay Thirsty

-Andre Guantanamo

Movin' on ... thinkin of you when I'm gone ...

My Friends,
   Sorry this can only be a short post but I am heading to bed early tonight to catch an early plane tomorrow to New York City.  I will be there all of labour day weekend without a laptop so will prolly not be blogging.
   I did want to mention however that I have made that most essential provision for my trip around the world: a travel playlist for my ipod.  Its a good 73 songs deep and I screen-capped it for you to marvel at my musical taste.

Now bear in mind that its only a first draft (normally I am not so meticulous in playlist-making but I will be stuck with this same playlist for six months so I wanna get it right), so if you could take the time to peruse this list and recommend a song or two which I am missing it would be greatly appreciated.  Have a sexy weekend and make love to someone beautiful.
Stay Thirsty
-Andre Guantanamo

Breaking the Ice

My Friends,
   Today in preparation for an upcoming excursion around the globe I ventured to the travel clinic to receive vaccinations.  Whilst waiting in the aptly named "waiting room" I overheard a frustrated, middle-aged receptionist commiserating with her co-worker about patients demanding estimations of expected wait times over the phone.  "The wait will last until someone calls you in," she went on, speaking the words she wished she could have said to the caller instead of the more placating answer she likely gave him.  The great irony in this is that noone, the receptionist included, wants their time wasted.  So we cannot fault someone for trying to plan their day and asking for a time estimation; but should we indulge them?
   I understand the importance of timings; they provide structure and allow the world as we know it to function (for better or worse) but for far too many people (regrettably, myself included more often than not), life is nothing but a series of timings: be at work for 9, pick up the kids at 6, dinner at 630.  It all seems a little mundane but we can justify it because we all think we are working for something better.
   Do you know what that "better" is?  I do.  It is the day when we don't have to have our timings dictated to us and we are free to live as we please.  But we'll never get there.  Because as stultifying to our flourishing existence on this planet as the rigidity of timings is, it also provides a modicum of security and stability; two things people feel lost without.  Therefore, people, even those who answer to noone, will always be slaves to the self-imposed rigidity of timings because it is, like a well-worn pair of underwear that has served you well, something that is difficult to part with.
   I opt to go without the proverbial underwear and forsake these timings.  If I must rush for something, let it be something I eagerly anticipate.  If I am late for something they will wait for me or they won't; either way, I'll be fine.  If I am early for something that gives me extra time to read something interesting or plot an escape route should things get out of hand (depending on the type of appointments you book). In short, inasmuch as possible, we should be attempting to throw off the twin yokes of imposed timings and obligations and revel in the time we can free up for ourselves.  If we don't learn to live life on our own schedule now we will never know how to do it.
Stay Thirsty,
-Andre Guantanamo