I woke up and found myself in Marrickville

Things are getting better. Maybe as a result of my bottom-out last week, I ended up getting a job! So I thought to myself, rather than go straight to work, it's time to go to Sydney and see my old friends before I start a full time job. And lucky for me I had 36,000 free Qantas frequent flyer points - a free trip to Sydney! I had been in Sydney for 30 minutes and there I am at the Town Hall Hotel in Newtown, just like it always used to happen. hehe. Now it's Sunday morning, I've had two hours sleep and my head hurts. Luckily for me Rachel Button has lined up a greasy breakfast for me at the Satellite Cafe and a trip to the northern beaches! Mm greasy breakfast.. that's the answer..

A bit of stability and satisfaction would be nice

Last week Caribou (called Manitoba until recently), performed in Perth. It was all drums and noisy sounds, a big klanging circus of good vibes and shimmering psychedelia. I was up the front of the crowd, grinning like a fool through the whole set. What a live band! So much intensity to come from a three piece bunch of guys. It was well worth the ringing ears for the rest of the week.

In other news, it's been a particularly hard week dealing with Jessica's condition. Its been one of those weeks where I've had to look deep inside my soul and find what it is that I look for in a person. I seem to be good at picking the neurotic depressive aggressive girls. Also its been another grim week in the search for work. I've applied for four graduate positions and a couple of others and still no response. I just want to get a decent freaking job, is that too much to ask for? All I have ever known is either hard core stress-out jobs that want me to work at least 50 hours a week, or dumbass work that bores me. When will I find a job that I like? I'm 31, I've just spent 3 1/2 years at uni and I'm still fucking broke. Will it ever end? I'm starting to think my working life will be something where I always have to endlessly compromise more than I am prepared to do. My Dad tells me to take any job 'for now' and work it from there. I just want to get it right, and get the right job now! Other people can do it, why is it always so hard for me?!

Sorry theres no good news from me today, it's all just too hard to write about fun stuff at the moment, until things start getting a little better for me.

I forgot to mention Paris

I feel like Alzheimers must be setting in! After writing my Greece and San Fransisco ramblings, I went searching for the diary I kept when I was on the road. It was packed away in a little box in the corner of my room. I'm pretty happy I wrote that diary now, because when I found it, I opened it up to discover that I have missed a whole section of my trip that was BEFORE I even arrived in Greece! I will write it down here exactly as I had written it in my travel diary. This will probably happen more often from now on, I'll write my diary entries in italics, what say..

Arrived in Paris at 2.00pm (French time) on 9th June. I wandered around the airport for a 1/2 hour until I figured out I should stay at the YHA Auberge De Jennesse D'Artagnan at 80 Rue Vitruve Paris. I cought the train (3 trains actually) to Porte De Bagnolet and walked to the hostel from there. I sent my big backpack straight to Athens. I lay down as soon as I could and after a few hours of sleep I woke, thinking it was the next day. I rushed to the reception, and someone told me it was 8pm. I then met Heather from Jacksonville Florida, who was hanging around near the cafeteria at the hostel. We had some beer, and got on incredibly well. Also met Josh from Chicago, and we then went to this bar 3 blocks away. Great music, great atmosphere. They screened a political local documentary film, of which I understood nothing except "L'Communiste". The bar was covered in bondage-like chains and was cranking out the tunes when we left to wander around. We ended up by the local large cemetry. As we approached it Heather realised it was where Jim Morrison and Edith Piaf's grave are! We met a group of street drinking Parisians, who took us to an entry, which was locked (it was 12.50am) so we sat out the front of the cemetry with these people for hours. After some considerable wine was consumed, we came up with the idea to try and scale the fence and climb in. It was a good 5 metres high, and after some clumsy jumps off the bonnet of someone's car to reach the top of the wall, we gave up, somewhat bruised but still laughing.
When we got back to the hostel at 2.30am I met 2 girls, one of whom was the gorgeous Carey. Josh crashed out, followed by Heather, so I went out again with Carey, her friend and this energetic Canadian, who proceded to climb all the sculptures in the parks. After crashing at 4, and swaping details with everyone, I woke at 6.30am, said goodbye to Heather and caught the 3 trains to the airport, followed by a large trek just to get to the plane, which was delayed by about 1 hour.

When I got to Greece I spent my first night at the Victor Hugo YHA, and met some nice people. Drank Ouzo for a while at the hostel (in Omonia) and went out to the alleged anarchist district of Exharhia. Was tops.


Wow, no wonder I couldn't remember that! I do remember that I was a tired hippo when I first arrived in Greece - no wonder. I wish I could remember who the 'gorgeous Carey' was! hehe, what a laugh. I've got this feeling many more of these journal entries include the word 'alcohol' more than I had originally thought.. I have also noticed that I've missed out on lots of stuff that happened in San Fransisco, maybe I'll update it later (especially the mushy night). I have too much other stuff to write about now.

Next Entry: Stranded in Goteborg, and escaping from a weird man who followed me and tried to abduct me in a van in Oslo after fleeing a riot that I somehow ended up in the middle of..

Big weekend

My travel tales will have to wait a couple more days as I've got lots to do here. I'm also recovering from a hefty late night weekend. Tammy, Lee's girfriend organised a surprise Birthday party for Lee at the Orient Hotel in Fremantle on Saturday night. It was good. Think I need to go now, will write later, feeling grim..

Paros pics

I discovered these scans in the deep dark vaults of my collection of floppy disks. I'll try to find a better resolution version of this pic -->
This pic was taken on a sunny afternoon when some guy hired a yacht and invited everyone he met on board for a barbeque. This is the moment after we realised we had finished all the beer and we only had sangria left ..minutes later that guy behind me and myself ended up jumping overboard to cool off, complete with that drink in my hand! The Mediterannean is so salty that I floated just fine, drink in hand, without having to paddle much to keep my head above the water.


This other pic was on Naoussa Beach, on the other side of the island. It was the perfect setting for cocktails, especially after all that motorbikin' in the July sun. Anette tells me that Ida (in the centre) is a famous actress these days in Sweden. I'm not sure how famous though! I also hear she grew her hair back.

Still in Greece..

So..
After a few more days of hanging out with the crazy Hilde, she decided to go home to sunny Oslo. Oh, I forgot to mention she had insisted she teach me how to ride a motorbike, and informed me that she was the 1991 motocross champ for Norway. I guess that made her a child star. It was a pretty scary lesson, but I lived, and even got alright at some motorbikin' skills. We hooned all around the island, and saw most of the cool sites of Paros.

My cousins who lived in Paros had secretly gone to all the restaurants or something like that, and in true conspiracy style, had insisted that no one speak to me in English. I wasn't aware of this until Hilde's last night, when we went to a funky restaurant and everything I said in English was ignored by the wait staff. One waiter couldn't keep it in, and at the end of the night he blurted out that word had gone round that I needed to learn more Greek and Christos (my cousin, obviously THE MAN about town) had insisted no English for me. Well I guess my Greek did get better, but it was a bit strange..

Sometime in my second week there I woke up feeling groggy, so I wondered to the boulevarde to look for a cooked breakfast. I was eating my eggs, when I couldn't help but notice the shop keeper being a wanker to his pregnant wife, and make her collect all the dirty plates, whilst he sat on the step perving on the bikini girls walking past. The girl serving me drinks rolled her eyes and moved on. We had a bit of small talk and before long, the wanker was yelling at her too for some reason. When she came to pick up my plate, I said something like "what a dickhead". The next day, as I walked past the restaurant she came and chatted with me. Me being the type of guy I am, and being all alone again after Hilde had left, I suggested we go to the beach after her shift so she could release some of her pent-up anger. Her name was Anette, and we instantly hit it off. I guess I was a bit keen on her (she was a hot Swede, after all!), and we did get it on that first night, but from then on that changed to 'partners in crime', and we became great mates. Two years later she came to Sydney and she stayed with me for a while, and I consider her one of my good friends still. She now lives in Norway, after spending a couple of years in Arctic Spitsbergen, as a marine biologist.

Anyway, i digress. She offered I stay with her and her friends on the hilltop in a pension, and that became my place of stay for the rest of my time in Greece. How could I resist? I got to share a bed with a Swedish babe in a room with a Dutch babe and one other mighty cute Swedish girl! It was great! Anette, Ida, Dominique and myself became a tight little unit, and we hired two scooters and went a travelling around the island, going to many a bar and beach party. Ida taught me the Swedish phrase: "ja, vig knulla dag!" and we had lots of laughs.

One day, I decided that I had to see more islands, so I caught the next ferry to Santorini. I had no idea where I was going, so i just went wherever I ended up. I ended up in a hostel in Perissa, on the far side of the island, by a beach with black volcanic sand. I literally walked into the nearest place, dumped my backpack on the bed, turned around, and whammo - on the bed next to me was the only person I had ever had an acrimonious break up with (in Sydney!). Unbelievable, but there was Abbey. She looked at me with disbelief, and the two of us were gobsmacked. The funny thing was, i think this was a good thing. We got a Vespa together, travelled the island, and chatted about everything, and by the end of my stay there, things were freindly between us, and she ended up coming back to Paros with me. She went her own way after that, but we did bump into each other back in Sydney a couple of years later, and it was friendly.

Back in Paros, Ida had some guy come over, and she disappeared with him, and Dominique left back to Holland. Anette and I proceeded to get totally out of control. I am pretty certain that I was drunk from that first day back until my sudden departure. What do I remember? .. buying a watermelon and a bottle of Vodka and sitting all night on the Venetian walls 'til the sun came up.. seeing morning every night, and missing most of every day.. waking up on a beach with my cousin's restaurant friend prodding me.. going on a boat cruise barbeque in Parikia harbour and falling off the boat with a cup of Sangria in my hand.. hanging out at some Scandi Bar nightclub.. befriending two homeless puppies.. But the greatest circus moment of them all, which would have a profound impact on the rest of my trip, as would have it, was this: I bought a ticket to Goteborg in a drunken haze, and woke up with it lying on my belly, with no memory of buying it.

Anette thought this was very funny, as she must have inspired me. She was from Goteborg, but was staying in Greece for another few weeks! As I grabbed my bags to go and shuffled my scruffy bohemian ass to the port, i made a shocking discovery.. i could not find my passport! After ransacking my backpack, i soon realised that i had left it in the safe deposit box in the hostel in Santorini! A quick phone call later and i was told that all phone systems were down in Santorini for the next day, and i could not contact the hostel. SO, in a quick decision, i caught the next five hour ferry to Santorini, bussed it over to Perissa when the ferry arrived at 7am, and grabbed my passport when reception opened! Aie Chihuahua! I had to wait outside the hostel before it opened, and in that short space of time i met someone else who was to come and stay with me in Sydney in the next year - Nikki Rowe. She was some crazy ass Canadian, and had been locked out of the hostel and was snoozing on the wall when i got off the 7.30am bus (she's married now). Another trip to the port later and another freaky bus trip down the scary caldera cliff face, and i was on the ferry back to Paros - again! I popped in for hugs and a 10 minute farewell, and then it was back on another ferry to Athens. Then I went straight to the airport, and just managed to get to my flight to Sweden on time, with just minutes to spare! Hehe.. what a month!

Next entry: What was I doing in Sweden? My plan had been to travel by land from Greece to Munich, where friends were waiting for me..

Greece adventure

I'm writing my travel tales down now so I don't forget them when I'm a crusty old man. This story goes way back to the hazy days of 1997..

The plane landed in Athens, and my nose was out of order after San Francisco. This was probably a good thing, as the pollution was major and I was seated near some sweaty looking folk for the duration of the trans-Atlantic crossing. I was met by my super funky Aunty, and within a day we were cruising to Paros, where she owned a little apartment they had set aside for me, in the middle of Parikia. Unbeknown to me, this apartment had been unoccupied for the winter, and the upstairs apartment had leaked. My new home was covered in mould, which immediately set off an annoying bout of Asthma. So, i spent my first night in Paros mopping mould off the floor, wheezing; whilst sexy couples pranced around just outside on their vespas in bikinis. To add to my indignity, the fan that kept me alive was unstable, and as i taped the 'on' button down to keep it going, i became a part of the circuitry and electrocuted myself on the wet floor! Luckily for me, as i fell to the ground, i broke the circuit, so other than a slightly burnt fingernail, i was okay. The only thing to do now, i decided then and there, was to go out on the town.

The night life of Parikia was going off. I strolled the main streets and ended up in an Ibiza like nightclub by the harbour, and before long I was meeting people. It all gets a bit hazy here on the details, but on my third day i met a totally loopy Norwegian girl called Hilde Ellevold, with black dreadlocks. We hit it off, and the first thing she did was suggest we swim out to a snazzy looking yacht moored 100 metres or so out in the bay. The boat was way out, but we made it, and Hilde just climbed up the ladder like a pirate. There was an elderly German couple on board, and I was a bit worried they looked like swingers, but no, they were just friendly. The lady made us a cocktail each, we sat and chatted for a while, and then her husband drove us on his dinghy back to the beach. Hehe, that was the start of our adventures..
I have to go now, will continue next time i'm online.

lots of beer

Leftovers from the sample tray from the first ever brew from the new Woodsmoke estate brewery near Pemberton. The place was so new, we must have been amongst the first ever customers. It was frikkin freezing there too.

Touring with the Angry Samoans

I have a cold today, so my writing flow might be staggered, as I reach for tissues to blow my snozz.

To continue.. Cameron is Tom's Identical twin brother, and even though I had never met him before i landed in SF, it seemed instantly like he was an old friend of mine. He had the same mannerisms, dress sense, taste in music and humour, and we hit it off straight away. His girlfriend was the manager of this awesome cocktail bar, called the Red Room, and according to Alison and her rock mates, this was the latest 'place to be'. Before I knew it, Cameron had me in the Silver Room out the back doing 'extreme confidence raising' activities with the coolest folk in town. It was my good fortune to buy a bag of goodies from his mates, as later on, when I was touring with the band, I offered the goods first, and they were amazed that a guy in the country for 3 days could have stuff. For the next month, I was in a haze, and it took me nearly 6 months before I could smell properly again. I felt like David Bowie in the 70s!

The tour was kinda strange, as Metal Mike (the main man from the Angry Samoans), is an obsessive compulsive, and he had made all kinds of demands on touring with Green Day and Rancid that they had to start their tours without us. Things changed, and before we knew it, we were on the road to San Diego as headliners for a 12 band metal tour. I can't seem to remember any of the names of the bands, but i know i got really toasted with the singer from 'Insult', who he described as a band that: "plays mostly 30 or 40 second songs of grind core metal that get straight to the point". Mike drove all the way down the freeway at 55 mph, as he wanted maximum fuel efficiency, and he refused to go any faster. He also only ate baby carrots, which made his skin yellow, and he obsessively wiped boogers on the steering wheel. I don't know why I remember that.. it must have disturbed me! Anyway, Mike was a pretty nice guy, but with some major weirdarse habits!

We also cruised up the coast, and I remember we did a show in Santa Barbara, just next to the fun fair where the Lost Boys was filmed. I forgot to mention, my job was to be the videographer, and I filmed the shows. A funny incident, now I wish i had a copy of the video, was at that San Diego show. When we got there, just as i was getting ready, and the crowds were coming in, my shaving cream exploded and trashed all my clothes, in front of a large group of teener punks. So I had to wear this soggy t-shirt, and spoiled any chance of meeting any hot punk chicks for the night. Later, just as the Samoans were climaxing at the end of their set, Mike yelled to the frothing crowd: "see that guy over there with the camera? He's from Australia, so kick his ass!" It was kinda like crowd surfing, but with extra punches and extreme pushing. I didn't die, or get really beaten up at all, it was in good fun, hehe, and I did get a few free drinks out of it.

Yeah, Alison was really cool. She set me up in her friend who was out of town's pad in this snazzy apartment on Pine and Leavenworth, and I also spent time down the hill at the border of Knob Hill and the Tenderloin district on Bush Street. I think the area was known as the 'Tenderknob'. On top of it all, to make my trip just that little bit better, Cameron set me up for a few days at his pad in Height-Ashbury. And I met a ballet dancer who gave me a motorcycle tour of her part of the city. Hehe, that was a fun time indeed! I should find some pics and put them online..

Next stop: Adventures with Swedes and a crazy Norwegian on The Greek Islands.

I'll write more when i warm up. it's freezing here, I'll write more about San Francisco when I thaw out a bit

The start of my adventure tales

Whoah. i just got off the phone with the social security interviewer. what a grumpy ass! she was talking to me like I was some kind of dole bludging loser, I hope i get a job really soon, i do not want to have to deal with wankers whilst trying to get a job.

Now that I'm finished from uni, i should start writing down my travel tales. That was the original reason why i started a blog. hmm where to start? How about my tour with the Angry Samoans accross California? That could be a good place to start.

The Angry Samoans were one of the best post-punk bands to come from Oakland and the bay area. Alison Victor, a great friend of mine, scored the job as axe-grinding buxom rock lead guitar chick! I was working as a post production editor, and I was feeling really burned out and in need of a holiday. Alison and I were in regular contact, so she suggested I come on the road with them, on a national tour with Green Day and Rancid. The year was 1997, and both of those bands were at their peak. Opportunities like that don't come around very often, so this proved to be the impetus to kick my job and start my own world tour. I arrived in San Francisco in May, on a sunny day. Hmm, what happened next, oh yes, the next day I went straight to Cameron's girlfriend's bar, the Red Room, for cocktails and nose candy..

Blurgh! I'm hungover. Must get up.. must make it to the Revelation Film Festival..