Bouling Down Under

Apparently you need to be in the water for it
to actually qualify as surfing.

Here we are then.  It’s all over.  We bouled, not quite all over the world (it turns out the world is massive) but at least all over Asia.  It’s been an epic trip.  Although the blog lets me tell you a bit about what has gone on it’s impossible to put into words just quite what this trip has been.  Don’t worry, it hasn’t turned us into stinking hippies, I have no intentions of heading into the Amazon and strapping myself to a tree to save it from being cut down.  I won’t pretend that we’ve loved every second of it or loved every experience, but, taking the good with the bad, the exciting with the mind numbingly boring and the stress with the feedom that we’ve had it’s easy to wish that we were back at the start waiting for our flight out of the Toon with butterflies in our bellies and a mind full of unreasonable fears.  Of course we were excited, but we could never of imagined how mind blowing the trip was going to be.  We’ve seen some of the worlds most beautiful offerings, met some of the worlds most interesting people and experienced things that sadly, a lot of people can only dream of experiencing.  That said, I’ve also met some of the worlds most anoying people and seen some things that I wish I hadn’t; an Indian fella having a shit on the road being one of them.  When a man has looked you in the eyes whilst having a shit you connect on a level beyond any other kind of social bond.

To say it’s all over isn't quite true.  The ‘travelling’ part is over but that doesn't mean the excitement is finsihed.  We’re not at home.  I’m not wrting this post in England.  I’m writing in Australia.  We plan to be here for a while if we can manage it but it’s going to require a lot of graft, probably a lot of stress and some pretty miserable times I imagine.  We have nothing.  Two rucksacks filled with tatty clothes, some residual dioreah and heads full of big plans and dreams.  We’re almost the set-up for a terrible ITV sitcom.  Let me give you the low-down on what the plan actually is, it’s a bit boring so I’ll give it to you in a nut shell, but at least you will know;

At least I won't have to watch any more of this shitey dancing.

We have 1 year working visas which will help us to recoup some of the funds that we were scammed out of in Asia.  If we work out in the sticks as farmers for three months we can extend our visa’s for an additional 12 months.  Then, we’ll take a month or so traveling around all the major cities to see which one suits us best, when we find one, we’ll rent a place and look for the elusive ‘real life’ jobs.  If we find them, like the place and meet a good group of friends, we stay.  If not, we can move on knowing that we give it a good go. That’s pretty much it.  It’s exciting and scary at the same time.  Anyway, enough of the borig stuff, let me fill you in on what has happened since my last post which was ages ago but you can let me off, we only had a month left and I didn’t want to waste time in an internet café!

So, after Sumatra we headed to Bali, spent some time in the Gilley Islands then flew to Singapore for our final few days.  Lets start with Bali, or Little Oz as I like to call it.  Here are the facts; 

•  It’s not as good as it should be.  
• There are more Australian douchers in Bali than anywhere in the world. 
• The beaches in Bali look the same as the beach at Whitley Bay.  I swear.  
• If you aren't wearing a sports vest, backwards cap and board shorts you are the one who looks like an idiot.  

Total rebel.

It’s a weird place.  It’s alright.  It’s an easy place to be in that it’s very much geared towards tourists but I think that maybe it’s a little too geared towards tourists to actually offer anything of interest. If you just wanted a week on the beach and some time to relax you’d have a decent time but it wouldn't blow your mind.  Then again, I’m now a snobby traveler douche so maybe I’m being unfair.  The first thing I noticed was the sheer amount of what I think are Australian chavs.  Where ours wear tracksuit bottoms tucked into socks and Berghaus jackets (or at least they did last time I saw one) the Aussie version wears a sports vest (usually an American basketball team), surfer shorts and a backwards cap.  To me they look like the lads out of 90’s UK pop groups. I’m thinking your A1’s, your 911’s, your Take That's and I’m certain that even at the time they all looked like huge homos.  That said, I probably looked like more of a homo trying to imitate their look whilst dancing around my room to their songs.  But that was the 90’s.  I have to give them some credit though; they aren't nearly as bad as the English lager louts and radgees who go to Malia to beat people up and help enforce the international perception that English people are dicks.  We’re even more hated than Americans.  Can you believe it?! 

Those chillis were a bit too hot for Laura.

After spending enough time with the Aussie chavs in Bali we took a boat out to the Gilley Islands which is supposed to be a little undeveloped haven with pristine beaches.  

Much like Bali, it’s alright.  Slightly fewer Aussie chavs but it’s still not paradise.  We spent a good week there though just chilling out and making the most of the clear waters for snorkeling. But, remember when I was boasting about not dying and cheating death? Well, my boast came back to haunt me a.  Death clearly doesn't like to be mocked openly.  I came down with a pretty nasty fever that came out of no-where.  Luckily there was a clinic on the island so I dragged my sorry self down and flopped onto the doctor’s bed where I was tested for malaria (luckily it wasn't) and given an initial 3 injections and 2 drip bags.  I felt as though I was in pretty safe hands and in a reasonably clean clinic which gave me a bit of confidence.  Then when I started to have some sort of fit or reaction to the injections which made me convulse like that bird off the exorcist I got pretty scared.  I was injected another 9 times and given 2 more drip bags.  I don’t know what the injections were but they made me chunder al owwa the doctor and his clinic.  Bants.  He literally grabbed a couple of paper towels and wiped down the surfaces then carried on as though nothing had happened.  Pretty efficient you’ll agree.  But if this doctor thinks its cool just to wipe sick off the floor and bed without using any kind of cleaning product he’s an idiot.  That made me wonder how clean his clinic actually was.  I could only think that I was lying in some Aussie’s chunder.  Not cool.  Regardless of cleanliness he did make me better in the end (not before slamming me with a bill for 100 quid) so I guess I should be grateful that it didn't turn out worse. 

Doctors always perscribe rest, at least they do when they don’t really know whats wrong with you and are simply hoping that they haven’t given you an overdose.  Rest it was then.  Well, it wasn’t.  Have you ever tried sleeping next door to a Mosque during Ramadan? Those Muslims know how to make a racket at the best of times, but during Ramadan they take it to another level.  Every twenty minutes or so they’re piping up on the mic and for some reason they have speakers which amplify the dreadful singing across the whole town.  What could be worse when you’re trying to recover from an illness? How about two Mosques belting out different tunes through loudspeakers at the same time? Duling Muslims.  Not fun.  I can’t remember if it’s allowed back in England but I can’t imagine it going down very well at all.

When I entered Indonesia I had a little issue with the lad on immigration so it’s only right that I should have an issue on the way out.  It wasn’t an issue with me, it was an issue with Laura.  Well, less an issue than a crush.  Well, less a crush than a need to marry her.  Well, less than a need to a marry than a need to have copius amounts of dirty sex with her.  This guy wsn’t secretly coming on to her, he was openly coming on to her safe in the knowledge that I couldn’t say anyting.  If I did, he’d just give me grief and not let pass thorugh immigration.  What a dick. Laura kept explaining that I was her boyfriend but he would only look over, smirk, and carry on tring to steal my girlfriend.  He explained that he had a car, which in fairness is more than I have, but surely that isn’t ground enough to steal a woman? Let’s not forget that I sprayed Laura down in the shower after she shat the bed and cleaned her dirty undercrackers for her.  Surely that is worth more than a car?!  He persisted for about 10 minutes before remembering that he actually had a job to do and let Laura (and luckily me) pass.  If I didn’t need him to stamp my passport and let me leave I would have given him a less than polite finger wagging.

If only Megan Fox was there.....

To end our trip we spent a few days in Singapore.  During our time there we didn’t really do anything massively exciting.  We had quite a few errands to run which included getting some new clobber so that when we landed in Oz we looked like normal people and not total hippies, we had to buy a laptop so that we can apply for jobs over the coming weeks (Laura also managed to persuade me that we needed an I-pad somehow.  For the record, we don’t but it’s too late now) and of course, we couldn’t leave without going to Universal Studios to ride the Transformers ride..…which is fucking mind blowing and without a doubt the greatest experience of both the trip and my life.  Screw graduation, screw building shit in Zambia for underprivillaged kids, screw everything.  Pool all of your money and get to Singapore to get on the Transformers ride, it’s worth it. Perhaps not the most cultural experience, perhaps not the most challenging, but without a doubt the most fun.  I’m sorry if that disappoints you. I feel bad for summing up Singapore in one paragraph mostly dedicated to a ride in a theme park but other than it being beatiful and a nice place to be, nothing really happened, at least nothing you’d care to hear about.  That’s just the way it sometimes.

So I guess that’s it for now.  I’ll blog if something interesting happens but I honestly don’t think it will, at least not for a while.  We’re going to be looking for jobs and if we find them, we’re likely going to be picking fruit for 3 months.  I can’t make that interesting.  So, for now, thanks for reading and thanks for all of your kind and witty comments.  If nothing else it’s served to help us feel connected to home even though we’re on the other side of the world.

Lessons learnt recently;

1. The world is bigger than I could ever of imagined.  I have more to see now then I did when I left.  
2. Time flies when you’re having fun.  It feels like yesterday we were saying our goodbyes in England.
3. I don't want to get involved with Aussie fashion.
4. There is nothing better than a day on a sofa in front of a TV to make you feel at home.
5. It's far to easy to slip back into normality even after being away for a while.