Beauabram’s Travels

G’day and hello to you and yours, world. I am sitting here, watching one of my new Aussie mates cook me dinner at his house in which I have been staying in for nigh a week. I am in Melbourne now, and have just finished pushing my flight back a second time to make it 10 days in this bitching of bitching ass cities. But before I recount to you my 6 days straight of drinking in this town, or my highs and lows at the blackjack table or even my first AFL footy experience, I will start from the beginning—arriving in Sydney.

Aug 3—Got into Sydney Int’l Airport after the longest flight of my still young life, clocking in at around 16 hours. Just getting away from LAX was a real cluster fuck, as my round the world ticket had to be re written—by hand—before I could disembark. Which meant, basically I missed my original flight as I chilled at the AA counter watching this poor schmuck fill out my ticket with all 24 flights with his hand surely cramping up at the end—took over 2 hours. Anyways, got on, slept for half the flight, enjoyed the on-demand movies TV and multiple meals as I made my way over the expansive and deep blue of the Pacific Ocean.

Got in, set my shit down after my shuttle service into King’s Cross where my hostel was, and just had the best weekend after that—drinking, going to The Quay and waterfront, the Opera House, drinking, going to the Opera House for the symphony, drinking, eating at Sydney’s great Chinatown, drinking, 4.5 days of glory it was. Stayed at this great place in King’s Cross called Mate’s Place, people and the management could not have been friendlier and I had a ball and half. But a quick word about King’s Cross—it ain’t a place to take yo momma. Filled to the brim with trannies, sex shops strung out street walkers and thugs are any given hour of night (or day) it is a mind and eye opening experience that I could really only liken to maybe the East Village, NY, NY. But, more I dunno, AUSTRALIAN. Or something. Anyways, I had a great time and then poof, I was off to a place I had been dreaming about for ages, the mythical, the magical, Fiji.

HERE ARE MY OZ PICS, enjoy,

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2011451&l=dabcd&id=57300146
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Trains, planes and rickshaws

In my travels, I have pretty much taken every mode of transportation available. As I sit here, days away from my biggest, baddest adventure to date, I am reminded of past trips—Central America, Mexico, and East and West Europe—and how I managed to travel in and around the countries there in. So, this entry is a look back on to my favorite, and least favorite, types of moving about.

Planes—This is the most obvious, but shouldn’t be left off, as it is the way I cover my biggest distances. I have not sat down and thought about how many hours and miles I have flown in my life, and I don’t want to. My longest flights to date have been to London and back, at around nine to ten hours—this of course will pale in comparison to my upcoming LAX to Sydney flight, clocking in at around fifteen hours as I traverse the Pacific Ocean. However, this distance will survive only a few short months, as my upcoming, Tokyo to London to Nairobi will surely not only blow the LAX to Sydney record away, but basically just blow, I think its 24 hours of flying out of 28. So, pre packaged meals, cramped bathrooms, fat wheezy flying companions overflowing from their coach seats onto mine, mind numbing hours of TV episodes of Two and a Half Men and movies like The Wedding Date re playing endlessly through the long, usually crying baby filled hours as my ass slowly conforms to the thousands of previous occupant’s butt contours as they flew the same airspace on these gigantic jet propelled aluminum alloy tubes hurtling through the high altitude atmosphere. This is how I get to where I am going, but once I’m there, the options of traveling the shorter distances begin to vary, as have my experiences using them.

Water travel (Boats, ferries, skiffs, kayaks, canoes sailboats, paddle boats, surfboards)

Ah, the allure of the water. Whether the body in question is the sea, a lake, a river or just an underground cenote, water has such a powerful and wonderful draw to us bipedal omnivores. Personally, I cant get enough of it, and try and spend as much time around it and in it as possible, in fact, a little thing I am trying to do in life is to pee in as many bodies of water as possible, which will now warrant its own mini outline;

a) The Pacific (Cali. Nicaragua and Costa Rica)
b) The Gulf of Mexico
c) The Caribbean (Mexico, Belize and Honduras)
d) The Mediterranean
e) The Adriatic
f) The Atlantic
g) South Pacific (Bondi Beach, Sydney)

Anyways, I plan to add to this Waters I’ve Peed In List many times over during the next twelve months, so, rest assured, world, there will be a whole lot more of my pee floating around in the world’s waters—stay tuned.

On the road (Trains, buses, taxis, rented cars)

Traveling within a country takes a bit of patience, getting there is the easy part they say, moving about is a little harder. Of course, the more developed the country, the easier it is to travel around it. Places in Western Europe are a snap—get on a train and take a nap ‘til you get there. But, if you are in, say, Nicaragua, where 40% of the country’s roads aren’t paved, then it becomes an adventure. One such Nica adventure came as me and my old buddy Max were trying to make it from San Juan del Sur, a developed town on the Pacific coast, to Propoyo beach, about 40 miles south west. This of course took 4 hours by via a rickety old yellow school bus (the preferred form of travel in C. America, by the by) and as they call these things chicken buses, it would have only been right to be sitting next to an ancient creased Nica man with a black trash bag full of peeping, little yellow, yes you guessed it, chickens. Classic.

As for the other modes, taxis are always a hair raising experience and it doesn’t matter if you’re taking one back from the Sydney Opera House, or trying to get to the National Airport in Panama City, either way, you are handing you life to a guy who NEVER speaks English and who only occasional follows traffic guidelines, of course, in Sydney there are SEATS in the taxi instead of trash bags over old metal coils, but who is keeping track?

Other Everything from go karts to push carts; from rickshaws to lorries, from elephants to just plain ol’ walking there will always be some form of transport available, efficiency be damned sometimes its just fun to do as the locals do.

Anyways, I am in Sydney now, enjoying the last of my First-world travel until I get to Europe, so the next 4 months or so will provide numerous experiences for me as the world of travel always does. Until that time…..