It's a bitter and complicated issue, one not easy to explain.
The Kurdish people have been fighting for there land since the 15th century when then Kurdistan was shared out among neighbouring countries and have been fighting hard especially with Turkey in more recent times for there lands return. The original Kurdish borders stretch across moder day Syria, Turkey, Iraq and Iran and over a period of time they were left with nothing in the modern day world. That was until around the 1970's when after heavy fighting with the Iraq government and a deal with the Soviets brought the possibility of a new region. This was then concreted during the Gulf War after the Americans imposed a no-fly zone over the region and even more when the Saddam government fell in 2003. The effects of all this not only finally gave the Kurdish people a slice of there original land but also spared the region from the rain of violence tearing through the rest of the country (Arab Iraq) in the recent conflicts.
Although recognised by the new Iraq government and its autonomy by the international community and the UN, it's still not official a new country but its all too easy to see that the steps have been laid and the Kurdish Regional Government is well on its way to getting full autonomy.

Originally planning to exit Iran via Turkey a new plan was hatched to take a shortcut, a shortcut which one can only be apprehensive about as no matter what new name you give the place... it's still Iraq! which is currently sitting high and mighty on top of the most dangerous countries in the world.
A shortcut to Turkey or a shortcut to hell; there was only one way to find out.
The first surprise was the landscape, for a country that's meant to be flat this couldn't be further from the truth up north as the road to the capital, Arbil; was flanked by tremendous gorges and amazing beauty as we hair-pinned out way along the 5 hour journey for the Iranian border post and through countless check-points.
Not having a clue what to expect in Arbil, a waste land or a oasis; I was pleasantly surprised as home to 1 million+ people it would rival any neighbouring countries main hub in terms of infrastructure and services.

Kurdistan for me was a novelty, a chance to see for myself a tiny slice of Iraq. I didn't so much enjoy it but now my eyes are all the more wider.

A roundabout in Arbil to three of the most dangerous cities in the world!

Shortcut Through the Forbidden Zone remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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With the Persian Gulf and Caspian Sea's rich waters flowing in the north and south respectively, Iran sits at a pretty uncomfortable place on the world map. Flanked by the Middle East (of which Iran is technically not a part of) and their past bitter enemies Iraq to the west and Central Asia with problematic Afghanistan and Pakistan to the east; Iran certainly has some interesting neighbours and for the last 30 or so years has had a struggling and increasingly demising image problem with the 'West'. A brief Iranian history lesson reveals that once America and Iran were allies until of course the coup with CIA involvement brought an abrupt end to all of that and ever since has become a very frosty relationship indeed. My view om American politics has never being positive and I guess I seem them as puppeteering bullies who pull the strings in there favour and get there big 'buddies' to join in; if they don't want to they will start to take there once friends 'lunch money'. There are so many instances of this happening and of course the current one of nuclear proliferation. It does strike me as strange how they can all be talking it and demanding it yet the idea of starting with themselves hasn't even come to the table and I see no reason for Iran to even slightly trust any word or idea that is being brought forward as both themselves and other countries have been backstabbed countless time, add to that the US isn't even giving Iran there 'agreement' that they will not attack Iran if it abandons its nuclear program; whereas this 'agreement' has being given to North Korea.
I think we they should be looking at the much more serious issue of Israel and Iran which seems to be going unnoticed but an issue that is only getting worse and with Israel possibly having a nuclear weapon already why isn't anyone looking at this? perhaps the fact that the two have been rather friendly of late and have become 'allies'.
I guess its the same thing of fighting al Qaeda in Afghanistan and turning a blind eye to the out of control problems in Somalia where there hasn't been an official government for nearly 20 years and now a safe haven and breading ground for extremists, many of whom have fled from Afghanistan.
It's all about public perception and political agendas.

This all of course is one side of the coin, the side which most people see and know of; the government front. Flip it over and you'll discover the other side; the people - Iranians, some of the most truly friendly and sincere people in the world.
Spending two and a half weeks here really opened my eyes to Iranian culture and its people as like most others my eyes were closed and only knew what was feed to me in the news. Starting from Azerbaijan I moved across to the east before returning to Tehran and down through the central desert to the town of Shiraz before making a bee-line to the exit in the north west. I tried to get a diverse experience as possible with such a short amount of time that I had.
The experiences I had in Iran are some of which I will still be talking about in years to come and definitely not forgetting in a hurry. The hospitality expressed from Iranian's is very unique and something I have never encountered before, something which makes you skeptical when first experienced until you realise just how sincere they really are. What makes Iranian hospitality very different for me is there curiosity and boldness; unlike many other nations that I have visited where the locals will happily stare and track you down the street at the mere sight of a foreigners, Iranians will do no such thing which for me is a massive sign of respect. Instead they will approach you to ask all there curious questions and not just the young men either; old, young, men and women it doesn't matter - if they have a question they want to know the answer. The latter of which, women; was a bit of a surprise as being an Islamic Republic I was under the impression that women weren't allowed to talk to men of whom they were not related or connected to, part of which is correct but as long as there is no sexual intent its not forbidden.
Most young Iranians can speak comprehensible English as many have aspirations to leave the country to further there university studies and with this not only there questions can be asked but mine as well, giving a real insight into the new and upcoming generation of Iran. Many of these do not agree with Ahmadinejad's stubbornness to the west as its becoming damaging to the image or Iranians, while the Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei is much unliked by most Iranians, but all are fiercely proud of where they come from.
The questions come thick and fast from both sides and there were so many instances of being in the bus with the seat beside me being switched constantly as so everyone could quench there curiosity. This did become annoying after a while but there offerings of food, drink, sweet and insight made up for it! The bus trip usually ended up with an invite to be picked up from the terminal and taken to a feast where the meeting of relatives, friends and partners ensued.

I don't think I will ever forget the guys from Esfahan, such a great couple of days; so much so I wanted to go back before I left. From the Hookah seasons to the car breakdown, the city tour, meeting the family and riding around with 5 of us on the back of the motorbike. Just brilliant!
The one phrase that I will tie to Iran forever as through the first English question they're ever taught, "No Problem?' ... No problem at all!

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/Backpacking-Jaunts/Scandinavia-Europe-Caucasus/Iran-Kurdistan-Iraq-2009/

The land of "No Problem" remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Georgia (not the girl, not the US state; but the country) is nestled in a part of the world that most don't really know about and until last year most hadn't head of, so much so that I didn't even know where it was until the girls in Belarus couldn't stop raving about it, so looking for a challenge I jetted off to Tbilisi the capital in search of what this place really was. It was also the staging point for the filming of the documentary pilot; 'Drop Me Off Here' which we are currently producing.
In 2008 Georgia and the international community were shocked and surprised when the big neighbour Russia launched an attach on the country smaller then the size of Switzerland and already split with two autonomous regions. Russia managed to seize a notable chunk of the mid-north aster fierce fighting with the Georgian army that even managed to reach the outskirts of Tbilisi.

Today there is little sight of what happened not even a year ago. Of course the area sized by the Russians (South Ossetia) is a no go zone but the rest of the country is ripe for the exploring.
Georgia is famous the world over for two things. There wine and there hospitality; both of which are in abundance. The hospitality that Georgians show to strangers is rightly shown in the 'Mother of Georgia' statue standing tall above the hills of Tbilisi, she holds a sword in one hand and carvet of wine in the other. Georgians believe that if they meet a stranger they must help them out in whatever way they possibly can, whilst on the other hand they are fiercely proud and will fight there enemies till the end.

The hospitality we encountered was just so unbelievable and never ending with the experiences uncountable. One instance we were just sitting in a small cafe having some lunch when the table of guys next to ours offered to buy us a bottle of vodka, of course we accepted (there's no way you can't!) and before we knew it they had got one of there fathers to bring his taxi and drive up up to a monastery in the hills. On arriving we were introduced to the regional vicar who then invited us to some of his home brewed wine and warn fresh made bread. That not being enough it was then off to a restaurant where over 2 hours the drinking, eating and singing didn't stop until everyone was rightly exhausted. There was just to many instances of this kind of thing and many if not all revolving around good food and home made alcohol.

The hospitality alone didn't just impress me. Georgia like so many countries in the region was once under Soviet control and like many of these countries shook its Soviet shackles around the same time; but here they are taking it one step further that the rest of the group (minus Estonia).
Georgia is trying very hard to bring back what makes them Georgians, this can especially be seen in Tbilisi where the change is unbelievable and happening so fast you wouldn't even think this was once Soviet land. Of course change takes time and starts from the center, in this case Tbilisi; and not without its problems either. The mentality of the people here and the widely diverse landscapes from the snow caped mountains to the warm sands of the black sea and onto the southern semi-desert; Georgia is definitely on the right track and well on its way to becoming a new tourist destination. I know when people ask me the question, "What's your favourite country?" I have a new answer...... "Georgia!"

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/Backpacking-Jaunts/Scandinavia-Europe-Caucasus/Georgia-2009/

The Crown Adorning the Caucasus remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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WHAT"S IN IT!

Backpack

I have to say the backpack I have has been so good to me and perfect for what I need. Some said before I left to get a cheap and nasty one but when you look at how these things work if one buckle or strap breaks you screwed until it can be fixed.
I've got an Osprey Crescent backpack with a 75 litre capacity. Some say that a bit big but no matter how much I put in it I can't seem to fit more than 20kg which is a crucial number when you want to avoid excess baggage costs with a growing number of airlines. The size is just right too. Not too big to squeeze onto crowded public transport or fit into small buses or luggage lockers.

- Top Compartment

• Harmonica - Still yet to master or even play this instrument
  
• Additional Straps - For attaching item to the outside of pack
  
• Collected tickets and memorabilia + coin collection
  
• Hidden compartment containing passport / insurance photocopies & US$200 cash in small notes
  

- Main Compartment

• Compact sleeping bag
  
• Quick drying towel
  
• 2 x Stuff bags for clothes
  #1 - Couple pairs socks & underwear + 5 T-Shirts
  #2 - Shorts, jeans and a pair of pants + board shorts (swimming shorts)
  
• 2 person tent
  
• Hat
  
• Winter Kit (Dark Green bag standing next to the backpack in the pic above)
  - One really warm jacket, One not so warm jacket, gloves & a beanie (woolen hat)
  
• Toiletry Bag
  - Toothbrush, toothpaste, moisturizer, deodorant, shampoo, body wash, sunscreen,
  shaving stuff, hair gel, tweezers & nail clippers
  
• Medical Bag
  - Load of medication from heartburn to diarrhea stoppers and starters + bandages,
  hypodermic needles, gauze pads, iodine etc. & condoms
  

- Bottom Compartment

• Trekking shoes
  
• Thongs/Flip-Flops/Jandals
  
• 'Dressy' shoes
  
• Sleeping kit with eye patch, neck pillow & soft ear plugs
  
• Medical book - For how to use all the medication above
  
• Backpack bag - Fits entire backpack in & fully lockable
  
• Stuff Sack 1 - Yellow
  - Mini calculator, bottle opener, torch, sunglasses strap, mobile phone,
  GPS unit (used for mapping & GeoCaching http://geocaching.com), universal power adaptor & Buff head-wear
  
• Stuff Sack 2 - Blue
  - Sleeping sheet, universal bath plug, clothes line, pack of cards, multi-tool, spare SD memory card,
  steel wire & padlocks, battery charger and 4 x long life batteries, custom molded ear plugs
  

Daypack

• Sunglasses
  
• Cigarettes & lighter
  
• USB stick
  
• Digital Camera
  
• Tissues
  
• Document wallet
  
• Music 'pod'
  - iPod Nano, headphones, USB power adapter & cable + stereo jack cable
  

CONNECTION WITH THE WORLD

Well of course there is email, what person from my surrounding generations doesn't have an email address they can access anywhere in the world. My personal one isn't the most professional (or related to my talents!) but it is memorable, so when meeting people for just a minute amount of time you can drop the address in the conversation and chances are you'll hear from them again.
Then there are the 4 main websites I use to communicate and share my experiences through.
Facebook http://www.facebook.com/Jason.W.S - This site has really changed the way I can stay in contact with people and also see what everyone else is up to when I don't have so much time to send individual emails.
Travellerspoint http://www.travellerspoint.com/member_profile.cfm?user=RedMonkey - Besides the blog it has a fantastic mapping feature which I keep regularly updated so not only others can see where I have been but for me to be able to pinpoint a specific date and know where I was.
CouchSurfing http://www.couchsurfing.org/redmonkey - Have been quite active on here recently and it provides both places to sleep and access to people everywhere who you can pick there brains for local knowledge and ideas.
SmugMug http://redmonkey.smugmug.com - Online photo storage at its best. Love it!

Then of course there is Skype which is a fantastic idea, but trying to find computers that are fast enough or have the equipment to make a call can be a challenge.

Online privacy is also a big issue there days with potential employers, embassies and who knows who else trying to search for dirt on you, which is why I use the alias of 'RedMonkey' to keep those unwanted eyes away from my online presence.

MY ONLINE COMPUTER

Not travelling with a laptop is seem by some as a crime in this digital world and if I was to add up the amount of money I have spent in Internet cafes I might just change that decision. I have no need for a laptop while I'm on the move as everything is already online and readily accessible. Gone are the days of having to delete emails as your inbox is bursting with messages and so is full of information, files, photos, contacts etc. I use a service called Box http://www.box.net which is basically a online hard drive you can arrange just like on a normal computer plus give access rights to whoever you like to view and edit. Here lives all sorts of files from resumes, job applications, scanned images, insurance and passport documents, random writings and anything that's worth keeping.
Another service which I just love is MP3Locker http://www.mp3tunes.com and as the names suggests it has all my music from my laptop online and synced up, allowing me to play and download anywhere in the world my music library just as if my laptop was in front of me.

MONEY MATTERS

Every traveller has a different way they deal with there money. Here is mine and I love it because it works so well for me and have yet to get into a real sticky situation of not been able to access my funds....unless of course there are none actually there!
In the age of Internet any bank that want to do serious business has some kind of Internet banking which makes it all too easy to keep a track of everything from transferring money to making domestic and international payments.
I travel with two credit cards, not because I'm greedy for cash but for the simple fact that I only have one on me at a time, so if I get mugged; no worries just dig out the other and where off again. The other and probably more important reason is that one is a MasterCard and the other a Visa as despite what there marketing would have you believe, either or are not accepted everywhere and with some countries only accepting Visa and vice verse.
Another method I have been using this year is that of a pre-paid credit card which is basically the same as a normal one except you load it with funds yourself and can't spend over that amount. Around every month I will load it with my monthly budget and use this card for all my spending, so when the ATM doesn't want to give me any cash I know I have maxed out on the budget and its time to hit the bread and water! The other advantage is that as it has no credit limit if someone was to steal this card and access it or 'double swipe' it the only money they can get is what you have put on there. In other words not so much compared to some of the credit limits banks are giving out these days.
On top of all of this I have some investment in shares and this acts as my 'emergency fund'. So if everything goes tits up I can just sell out and cash up giving me instant fund for a flight home or somewhere safe after being transferred the funds through a service such as Western Union. Plus while its waiting to be used it's hopefully making money on itself!

That's pretty much how my life is sorted out and with the daily onslaughts of bus timetables, visa applications, exchange rates, local customs, languages, currency and jumping through hoops of bureaucracy once and a while it certainly keeps me on my toes and seems to be working alright.

My Backpack, My Life, Our World

Organization of a Backpacker remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Let's begin with the first step of actually getting a ticket!

Pre-Departure
As with most cities in the Eastern Europe block the railway station (Vokzal - Вокзал) is usually a grand old building heaving with people no matter what hour, as they rush about with what seems like there life possessions to unknown destination.
Its inside here that the first challenge awaits; sometimes even long before the desired travel date.

No matter how many time I've done it my legs still shake nervously as I get closer to the counter in the seemingly halted line. I rehearse in my head over and over the name of the place, my pleases and thank-yous in Russian and get my flashcards sorted out (more on that latter) as that one lady who is about to serve you can make or break your journey. These ladies have to be some of the toughest I've come across as they yell and scream behind there enclosed booths to the rude and seemingly endless line of grumpy bodies that wait impatiently to be served.
As scary as they are I do have some compassion for there situation. From what I have gathered these ladies work upwards of 12 hours a day with an hour break for lunch in a booth no bigger than the average toilet with a limited air supply and dealing with a computer system from the 80's all while still having to manually cut and glue pieces of paper to various books. All of this on top of the fact that they are no doubt getting paid pittens and having to deal with some of the rudest people I have ever seen. I too would be a little bit agitated and angry.
Which brings me to the front of the extremely unorganized line, anyone that had been to Russia or it surround will know all too well about the "Russian Style" of lining up.
The shakes have evaporated and I am filled with confidence as any sign of weakness on the front line here is quickly pounced on. I have a method now which in 95% of cases works find and after ALOT of different ways and countless hours of queuing and re-queuing this is what seems to work the best.
Brimming ear to ear with a smile that would make even the hardest grouch crack a grin, I politely ask "Do you speak any English?", knowing forwell that she doesn't speak a word. This usually set the mood and get a lovely smile in return and an audience of laughter from the rest of the line.
With the response of "Net" (pron. Ny-et", a sturdy head shake or a grunt; all of which commence the fun and out come the flashcards.
I started making these this year and my god they have made a difference as before in Russia you would either need assistance to come actually come to the train station or spend countless minutes trying to explain it myself which usually ended up with her closing her booth in a angry mess and thus lighting the rage of the 20 or so people behind me who are already highly charged from waiting an hour already. This or yelling and screaming at me with what I can only assume are profanities followed by me being pushed aside and well ticketless and defeated till I start all over again at the next booth.

A bit of pre-preparation is the key. Working out you destinations spelling in the local alphabet is pretty much crucial to the whole ordeal and also what train you actually want to get, all of this is easily found on the departures board...easily confused with the arrivals board except departures are on the yellow one!. This along with the answers to what every ticket lady wants to know and so can be stuck on here window in an instant as I re-arrange the paper for the desired answer.
The whole process usually take around 5 minutes unless of course she throws the odd ball question in which case I flash all my answers or feed here the paper through the hole but it usually mean that that train is full.
For a foreigner who is prepared it take 5 minutes, This leaves the baffling question on why it takes the locals who know the system and speak the language on average 15 minutes MINIMUM each to get there tickets!!
Expect the whole process to take 1-2 hours, this is of course after you have found the right window as most ticket halls have at least 5, all of which sell different tickets at different time with different lunch breaks and if you are unfortunate enough to be behind someone with what appears to be vouchers, allow at least 30 minutes for the novelty of watching how the world worked before the arrival of computers. The craft set comes out as she cuts, glues, writes and tapes carious bit of paper into various books all after a lengthy phone call to what can only be assumed as "Head Office" and what appears to be an interrogation of said customer with vouchers. Priceless really.

On Board
Finding the platform, carriage and compartment is pretty straight forward and once you know how the ticket is laid out its all too easy as all of the CIS countries seem to have adopted the same system.
Depending on what country your in and even which service your on the train can have up to 3 classes, what class you end up in can all bit a bit hit-and-miss and come as a surprise when you board as the lady that issued your ticket might have bumped you up as there were no beds left or that class isn't even on that train!

1st Class
I have never had the delight of spending countless hours in a 1st class cabin, but have peeked into a few and seems basically the same as second class except there are only two beds and you get a lovely vase of plastic flowers. I wouldn't count on getting any better service though for a price of what is usually double the cost of the class below.

2nd Class (Rus. - Kupé)
This is what I usually go for as its normally a safe bet on actually getting a place and well I can never remember the word for 3rd class!
Kupé varies on different routs and am yet to figure out what the system is. For example; what you get in 2nd class on one route might be the same on another route but down in 3rd class...confused?! Your still in a closable cabin but with 4 beds and that's about it, if your lucky you might have a cabin with arctic temperature "air conditioning" piped into it. The cabin is about the width of 3 people standing and with 36 people in one carriage. Each carriage comes with its own set of "housekeepers" who let you on the train, make lovely cups of Chai, abruptly wake you up before your station to get off and arrange a playlist of Russian popular classical music for you to watch the world go by. These (generally) ladies are as from the same batch of cookies as the ones in the ticket office and put up with no nonsense at all; as we found out on our travels on the trans-Mongolian!
The toilet as with all the classes is...well an experience. Not quite down to the Indian standard of literally a hole in the floor but is best to get in early for two reasons. That roll of paper in there is all your going to get; once that's out. Tough luck! (I don't even think that paper rates as one-ply) The other is it can get messy in there real quick, so just hope your bed is at the other end of the carriage as you will be wafted to sleep by the smell of stale urine otherwise.

3rd Class (Rus. - Platzcart)
This class is my personal favorite and gives me a big grin every time. Unlike the previous classes, here the door is gone along with any privacy and 6 sleep to a compartment with the hallway running straight in between. Its quite hard to explain but if you get a chance sleep here....well if you can. Sleeping here can be quite difficult as the concofany of smells and noises envelopes your senses. Just imagine 54 people taking there shoes off, most arrive on board pissed and so pass out to join the orchestra of snoring vibrating through the carriage along with the constant murmurings of inaudible words.
No Chai is serves here, unless of course you bring your own. Your lucky enough to have running water in the toilet.

With all the classes you get a set of clean bed linen, a big squishy pillow to rest upon or under (depending on the noises of your fellow train mates) and sometime, just sometime you might get a pack of tissues to clear out that snotty nose caused by the arctic air conditioning.

Whatever class you choose if you do get a chance to take a trip on one of these train it will sure be an experience to remember.

Photos of carrage classes from "travel-2-ukraine.com"

Shall we take a trip? remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Ukraine is a relative newcomer to the independence scene and as such is still sorting out the abundance of issues that come with that and trying to find its place in 'Europe' and as I'm shore there are more pressing issues there seems to be not a Hryvnia spent on the seashore or from the looks of it anything soon.
I am not the best person to comment on such areas as most of my life has been spend in and around beaches and the ocean and so I guess I have some expectations, not such high expectations I thought.
Let me introduce the town of Feodosia, 180km east of the main resort town of Yalta and perhaps off the radar for any 'Western' visitor. You can make up your own mind on weather you would like to spend your precious summer holiday here.

A two and a half hour marshrutka (mini-bus) journey from the bustling 'capital' and transportation hub of Crimea, Simferopol (€2); drops you off at the bus station and in the usual Russian/Ukrainian way your left to fend for yourself as the 30 people you were riding with mysteriously disappear into the dust. At first I thought I got off at the wrong town (which seems to be happening quite a bit lately!), but after confirming that I was in fact in Feodosia perhaps I had misread my dubious map and this wasn't at all a seaside town that I have thought.
The reason for the doubting is that from the view of the the bus station it appeared to be that of a port; the silhouettes of dock cranes peaking above the horizon as a cargo train screeches by violently in a cloud of sooty smoke and dust. This can't possibly be the right place, I knew I should have Googled it to at least see what was there before I set off; It wasn't until I saw a family walking across the car park with an assortment of inflatable toys that I knew a beach was near. As never being to a beach in my journeys through Russian speaking countries, the word is yet to enter my Russian vocabulary and after trying an variety of Spanish, French, Italian and mixing and matching the different sounds plus throwing in the Russian word for water I finally resorted to a a swimming motion in the hope of some understanding.
Having spent 17 hours getting here I wasn't in the mood for these games and so jumped into a taxi for a 15 minute journey to a hotel that the taxi driver assured me was of 'good standard', sometime its just so hard to not thing your about to be fleeced here. That early evening it was time to see just what the next 3 days of beach side living here would be like and after coming from Odessa another seaside 'resort' town and funnily enough home to Ukraine's biggest port my expectations weren't so high but all those glossy pictures I kept seeing gave me hope.

I arrived, I am here and well I am frankly disappointed.
I should point out this is a Russian tourist hot spot with I would say 90% of the people here being from Russia, Ukraine and other CIS countries and so having very different standards to the of the 'West' but I still don't understand why they can't take a little pride in a place that could be something really special.

Just the different smells emanating from here, i wish the pictures could tell; they are just furious. The smell of decomposing garbage wafting through the air is enough to make me pack up my bags and head inland. Piles of garbage left everywhere; on the beach, in the beach, in the water, on the road; I definitely would be building any sand (or actually pebble) castles here for being to worried about what I would dig up! Another smell to frequent my nostrils is that of dried salty old fish, as sellers of this product troll the beaches and line the streets with racks of there stinky stock. The last thing I can even imagine wanting to eat on a stinking hot day is the carcass of a fish, but people do and they seem to love it.
The first problem I encountered was actually finding where the beach was, in hindsight I should have just followed the smell but normally you just look for the countless multi-level buildings and apartments lining the coast and bingo your there.
I did find the water, that of the port which I hopped didn't include the beach; and it didn't. The beach was situated 200 meters beyond the port wall and lined with inflatable jumping castles, rusting amusement parks and pack with an assortment of bodies randing from the enormous older ladies through to the tiny ultra superficial girls who are mostly mothers (can someone tell me what the birth rate is here!!!) with there Speedo clad husbands usually a couple of meters behind with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. I still am trying to work out how practical it is to wear make-up to the beach, let alone reapplying it after swimming.

I have a lot to understand about the Russian beach culture, and well the Russian culture in general. I have been in Ukraine for nearly a month now and the frustration is starting to build. i understand none of it and it all seems backwards, wrong or just the long way round. I have another 2 weeks by the shores of the Black sea heading to more populated areas so hopefully I will start to understand just a little a bit.

Sitting by the seaside; on the seashore remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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25 years of life on this earth. 25 years of breathing, learning, evolving......living!

It seems that every half decade is a milestone as such when past the teen numbers. 22,24,23 bear no significance like that of 20,25,30 etc. Moments in time where it seems reasonable to look back and remember the past. To what has been achieved, goals reached and lessons learnt. Something which I rarely do but what time time than my 25th birthday and thought I would share.

I can only think back about 5 years or so, anything before that seems to be quite a blur.
So here are the weeks surrounding July 16th for past years gone.

2005
"Fresh off the plan & not so fresh out of Glastonbury"

My arrival date to England was set in concrete, all travels had to end by this date as the excitement for this one event had been building for months. Glastonbury Festival, the biggest performing arts festival in the world and my only chance to taste the goodness as by the time it returned in 2007 my visa would have all but run out.
Coming fresh of the plane from Amsterdam I can still remember the very words the customs official pronounced at Bristol airport.
"Sir, you need to realise that drugs are not tolerated here as in The Netherlands and any misuse of the law will result in your deportation. Have a pleasant working holiday sir."
Arriving in Bristol with no camping gear whatsoever, an effort was made to rectify this problem. Not so much the camping side but more the drinking side of things, although this did not have a favourable outcome.
Standing at the festival gates I knew I had to find somewhere to stay; surly all these tents people are bringing won't be filled with bodies. And they weren't. I managed to find my spot inside a ti-pi tent with Jen, Joe, Catherine and numerous others and we all enjoyed the mid and music together.
It's weird as I don't think I could do that again; just turning up and finding people to stay with at the drop of a hat.
I managed to stay on at the festival as a litter picker, my first job in England and definitely not my last. Being out of contact with the world in the middle of Worthy Farm meant that the unfortunate events that rocked London were not known until days after and thus decided to stay in Bristol until things settled down.
I had found a place to live in what would be my new home for the years to come. London. Arriving to a house in the eastern suburbs which everyone had previously told me to avoid, but the price was still out of my budget and had no choice but to take it. And so was living in E10 - Leyton with a bunch of South Africans.
I don't think I was working at the time, but I do remember marking my birthday with a drink at the local pub.
For those that don't know any South Africans it might be hard to understand but they have, well a way about them. Words were said to another group and before I knew it everyone was running out of the pub sprinting down the street as a car roared after us and the group that was also previously in the pub jump out with cricket and baseball bats. One concussion latter and a few scrapes, brad (nursing his black eye) and I were off to celebrate the proper way at GlobalGathering Festival just north of Shakespeare's old joint.

2006
"Monsters, Bulls, Tents & Trucks"

A full on few weeks, after a bit of organising it was time to start the first leg and off to Scotland it was. Spending 3 days honing around seeing anything that was anything from our little yellow bus, we managed to cover a lot of ground; as far north as the Isle of Skye and back across to Aberdeen glimpsing at numerous lochs and mountains as they whizzed by and what any tour would not be complete without a visit to Loch Ness for a bit of monster spotting. Before long it was back to Edinburgh to meet up with Anna; who I was travelling with in Russia, a few more days in Scotland and then down to Spain to start my new and very brief job.
San Fermin festival was fast approaching and thousands of people were about to decent on the Spanish town of Pamplona and hundreds of which would be camping at the camp site I was now employed; well if we got the tents up in time. The details are vague but the memories rich. Jo, Emma, Jacquie all making it worth wild as it was shit work. The memory of a rather large lady squawking orders, picking used condoms from the tents of last season, melting in the 35 degree Spanish summer and being given detention for a reason I can't remember but having to cook dinner for a bus of new arrivals at 3am, and finally enjoying the benefits of what a security uniform and Mag torch can bring. But we were here for one reason, to be chased round the narrow streets of Pamplona whilst intoxicated and covered in red wine with a pack of seathing angry bulls at your heels.
A quick stopover back in London for some last minute preparations and it was back in the air; this time to Berlin.
Not being the first time in the German capital this time I was here for one reason. Love Parade 2007 and what would be the last parade held in Berlin. This single event has to be the greatest and most amazing birthday experience I have has to date. Being granted passes from my recent bar job I picked up at Ministry of Sound in London, myself and Tara were granted access to ride on the MoS float through the swarm of international revelers for hours on end. Such an unbelievable experience and one that won't be forgotten anytime soon!

2007
"Ibiza Ibiza"

What an interesting summer 2007 was. Big highs, big lows, penniless and an illegal alien. The stress of Ibiza was at its height in July. The midway mark from the day I arrived and the point where something had to give. Living in a one bedroom apartment with at that time 7 others was the start of the fracture.
Money issues were starting to become a serious problem and paying the rent a struggle but still we slogged on. An unsuccessful attempt to get my passport re-stamped in Switzerland to allow another 3 month stay proved a waste of time but provided some valuable alone time which was quite a rarity on the island. Upon my return it was this alone time I began to cherish and decided to leave the party capitals for a view on a more realistic lifestyle waiting on the other side. It was here I spent the 16th. Basking in the sun and riding the surf of the clear blue waters and capping it off watching the sun set with the rhythmic percussion of drums in the background. A true escape from paradise.

2008
"Sleepless in Seattle"

Having just arrived in Seattle after too many days at sea steaming from San Francisco, the last thing I wanted to do was spend it with my fellow crew members. So after finishing off the awesome cake shaped like a guitar (strings & all!!) made by the on board chef, I strolled into town looking for something to do. Preferably with music and definitely with alcohol.
Well things just happened to fall into place and whilst having a bite to eat under the shadow of the Space Needle friends were made and a long night ensued, American style. To think that a year before I couldn't even afford to buy food to rewarding myself with a massive juicy steak and gallons of beer; it was a start of a new beginning.
Being the beginning, money had to be made; so it was back to work the next morning after an hour or so of sleep to wash down the boat yet again in the freezing Seattle summer.

Either i just can't find any photos or it was just so un-eventfull I just didn't take any!!

2009
"From Europe with Love"

Predicting a year of change earlier in the year, it certainly hasn't disappointed. The mind maturing, the ideas changing, the goal posts moved. The past few weeks have been that of excitement. Having just left Belarus after 2 weeks of an extraordinary cultural experience and plant in motion for a 2 month trip through Georgia, Armenia, Azerbaijan and Iran; the gloom of the months before seems to have past as realisations are brought into the daylight.
I have a feeling that 25 is a milestone for me. The year my eyes opened to things once closed. The year where money is no longer a problem and the year were I become proud of what has been achieved for the first time.
To celebrate this special year it needed to be marked somehow; a permanent reminder to look back on and not forget the achievement.
A few months ago Roderigo and myself came up with a tattoo idea. This idea is now a permanent symbol on my inner wrist to never be forgotten and to give energy when called upon.

I can't help but wonder and be filled with excitement for what the next 5 years will bring, as so far my life on this earth has been lived with no regrets and I plan on keeping it that way.

Peace xx

Marking The Event remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Being a visitor in Belarus (Bella-rous) is not an easy feat. tourism is practically non existent and thus trying to research the destination is just a a challenge in its self; unless of course you are up to speed with the Russian dialect. The major guidebook just graciously give a bite size snippet of pages which usually feature heavily around Minsk and a few pages if your lucky outside the city confines. Any published map you have might as well be used as fuel for the heater as the Roman alphabet does not nor never has existed here, so standing on a street corner trying to decipher the street name stuck on the building which is in Cyrillic and the one on the map which for some reason uses the Roman alphabet; your soon quick to realise you in for a challenge, a challenge which I gladly and enthusiastically accepted.

The disorientation started right from the moment I arrived. The morning rush hour had just started as I disembarked the bus from Riga on a gloomy wet morning.
Where I was? Unknown
Which was was north? No idea
I knew that I was in Belarus as the border formalities in the wee morning hours had woken me from an uncomfortable sleep. But was this Minsk? Normally before arriving to a destination I have a vague idea of where the bus station actually is and to what direction I need to go but all I knew is that Minsk has 3 and the most central and convenient station was closed for renovations. This left the other two somewhere in the suburbs of the sprawling capital, one of which I knew was near a Metro station. But which one was I at?
Tied, exhausted, sweaty and sore I wasn't in the mood to be dealing with such complexities at this time of morning. Inside the terminal I try to cast my mind back to the days when I was in Russia, the use of hand signals, sketches and sound to get my message across, but to no avail. No one could decipher my messages and direct me to a Metro station if even there was one here. I did notice however that people seem to be "scared" for some reason, in my research before hand it was said that Belarusians are shy people even more so than there Russian neighbours and OK I was a bit smelly but when people start shimming away in all direction but towards you you have to start to wonder. I did latter learn that tourists are an endangered species here, especially one with a material 'hump' attached to there backs and just seeing one causes disbelief.
I never did find out what bus station I was at. It was in Minsk however and before I knew it I was at the hotel where upon entering my room for the night I thought I had being transported back into the 1960's (minus the color TV of course!)

Still firmly planted in 2009 (although the buildings and surroundings would have you think otherwise), I was now somewhere in the city center but still post. Being lost in a city is quite an exciting experience, unless of course you need to be somewhere in a hurry. The opportunity to discover places and just admire the raw beauty without having any idea what you are looking at hold a certain charm. It can be quite a challenge to remain lost in a city for an extended period as the chance of stumbling upon a Metro, Tram, Rail or local bus station can be pretty much guaranteed and thus taking you back to familiarity or off into another unknown territory.
With the orientation issues solved it was time to see just what this country is like from the inside and what the citizens here feel.

I'm not a political man; I never have being. My views on politicians is that of selfish money grabbing buracates but that governments are a necessity as we as human beings need rules and structure. Being in Belarus and not talking about politics is near impossible as everything here rotates or is connects to the government and thus everyone has a very strong view on what the believe should happen, will happen and has happened.
I began to embrace the idea of involving myself in political conversations and actively asking questions as my curiosity grew, trying to paint a broad picture of views and to see what people believe should happen in the coming years as the political situations around the world are changing and also just what life is like living in a policed state.

Crime here is non existent. Belarus has the most police per capita than any other country and reportedly 25% of the population is somehow involved in the still very active KGB here. Rules are plenty and strictly adhered to, any deviation can result in swift action from the authorities in a variety of ways. Lukashenko who has been president of the republic since '94 now has about the tightest grip possible on the media and economy. The financial 'crisis' crippling neighbouring countries has barely made a dent here, unemployment is pretty much nil and homelessness unheard of. Its easy to see why in particular the older generation have no problem living under such a regime.
Coming as quite a shock to me was the fact that the country is not as cut off as I had expected. McDonald's, TGI Fridays, American TV shows and pop music from around the world all exist here; steadily dripping from the outside borders and giving rise to a new generation of Belarusians who may just have it in them to provoke change.

Beyond the political situation lies an amazing country with equally amazing people. I can't help but draw similarities to there Russian neighbours as there are plenty that I have notices. I have not being here long enough to distinguish just what makes the Belarusian people unique. The friendliness here is unbelievable and although its hard to encounter this on the street, taking a step inside a bar or cafe soon reminds you and the curiosity of someone from a far flung land visiting a dingy basement cafe beings delights to all involved.

My time in Belarus was varied and a real eye-opener. Weather strolling the streets of Minsk in what feels like a Soviet time capsule, to listening to live jazz bands playing American classics with such talent and energy in a smokey bar in the suburbs. Partying with 50,000 20-somethings to some of Europe and the worlds best DJs at the GlobalGathering festival or celebrating the official "Independence Day" with all the glitz and glamour of its American counterpart.
Belarus, if anything is just simply interesting. Something quite rare and that is so very close and assessable. For me it was a unique experience that is no so easy to get in the world today and one that anyone who has even the slightest interest in should do, even just to from an opinion of there own of a country that changing; in a direction unknown.

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/8799851_zyMqP#582614183_4Yv9f

The forgotten Neighbour remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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There seems to be no logic, direction or focus on any particular subject just random glitches in the brainwaves triggering a series of events. Past glitches have included numerous web based sites ranging from Worldwide Walking Styles to one focused on young Europeans and "Capturing the Flag" and to the creation of new devices and sporting events. But the one thing that makes an idea great is it implementation, evolving from the idea of creation to creating the idea.

On a trip in the last few days through rural Belarus one such idea was born. Perhaps the conditions were just right for such a creation.
taking the normally4.5 hour trip from Brest to Grodno I took my seat in what can only be assumed as a 1980s Russian "bus". Unlike its European cousins it is minus a few of the things that seem to be taken for granted on an intercity bus. Shock absorbers, padded seats, air conditioning and a fully working engine have not yet made it to this part of Belarus yet it seems. At first the air conditioning was noted as non existent; as the temperature outside hovered around the 30s and the humidity off the chart, but luckily this model had working windows available.
We set out from Brest at our top seep of 70 Km/h along what I am reluctant to call roads. Arching up and down like a bucking bull as the driver tried to avoid any hole bigger than his tyres. The roads here are terrible, not the worst I have come across but when your sweating uncontrollably and hovering 2 inches above your seat it doesn't make for a pleasant ride. The Belorussians have also created a novel idea to traffic control. Upon entering a village and to reduce the speed of the traffic they have taken the simple hump and multiplied it! Just in case the first one didn't slow you down there are four more in front of it to really get you down to a snails pace. Although it seems that our driver is either partially blind or has already lost all sensation in his body as he didn't appear to slow down at all, instead his human cargo were flung around in the sweat filled interior as he continued on his way.

Well we pass through many villages but it was one that finally managed to bring up to a halt, Two things happened as we hurtled over the last in a series of humps.
One, the bus finally gave in and sputtered to a stop with a wisp of smoke chocking its passengers.
Second, it set of a chain reaction of brain waves. Arking and sparking and giving birth to an idea.
Naturally I can't give too many details as it is well...the Internet, but am in the process of registering a domain name. I'm not sure what exactly I'll do with it but gives it some sort of starting point.

The idea of spontaneous, totally unplanned travel by using only what you know and your skills to get from a specific destination by whatever means. Uncomfortable travel as such it not only pushes, grows and evolves a person it creates an environment where you meet and interact with local people thus gaining a true insight to a specific country. "Drop Me Off Here" creates an environment where the human spirit of survival, achievement and determination are binded together for the ultimate satisfaction.
As the idea stands at the moment I see a series of web based documentaries supported by online diary entries whereby upon entering a country the team of two is met by a pre-organised person with local experience and taken hours, days or weeks to a unknown destination and "dropped off". The complexities begin right from the start as only knowing what country your in and not having a map, guidebook, phrasebook or any traditional travel tools; just working out where you are to non-English speaking locals and how to get away is the first of many challenges.
The idea can also be done in cities such as New York, Mumbai, Tokyo and even London. Trying to find a destination armed with just an address and no access to a map or tourist information.

Of course for this to work I need a camera person.
So if anyone out there has a few weeks free to travel and some semi-pro video equipment and also not be afraid to "get in it" to get a shot let me know as I would be very interested to see how this pans out and if I would actually be up to the challenge myself.

I wrote a few weeks back a rather sombre post and have decided to throw some spontaneity into my own plans. I've extended my trip here in Belarus as a result of meeting some wonderful people and hearing the replies to my countless questions about their country.
I think perhaps I have become bored of Europe, its not a challenge anymore; its too easy. Travelling in Europe is now inside my comfort zone unlike before, so its time to move the boundaries again.
I'm thinking the The Urals; Georgia, Azerbaijan, Armenia for a month or so to quench the thirst. We will see.

The idea of spontaneity remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Since the start of May when the latest adventure begun, the questions had started; a trickle at first and now a raging torrent of mercy unknowns. What has caused this floodgate to open at this very time? Yet another question that gets snagged in the whirlpool of my thoughts.
I could easily take the easy option and connect it with another event that also occurred at the start of May, but I don't think that would solve it; for these questions are far too big to pin on one event, surely? Perhaps the trigger; the seed was planted and now it grows, growing into a tree of uncertainty with a fragrance of excitement.

I think a new mind is sprouting from the soil, once which like its natural counterpart is vulnerable in the beginning but grows into something strong and sturdy. I think the days of disappearing into the unknown for month on end by ones self are drawing to a close. The sanctification and excitement has faded, faded to a point of unexcitment if ever a word existed. Perhaps I have reached the goal that was never clearly set when I first embarked.
Trekking about searching, discovering, celebrating but not sharing has certainly lost its charm. The months, days, hours and minutes of talking and sharing with who? only passers by in a time line moving ever so quickly. Acquaintances of substance; yes. Acquaintances of knowledge; no. Knowledge of who I am and what I believe in, perhaps no one really knows, but there lies yet another question.

The mind is turning into a self destructive entity, evolution? or just a mental appraisal. Questions long since answered brought to the table for evaluation. What am I doing? Where am I going?, Why am I here, where I am? and the more superficial ones of Should I go study? Return home?, Get a real job and start making a like for the future?.
Well spending the majority of the 24 hours in a day with nobody but myself is starting to get a bit tiresome. It's not normally a problem and is actually quite normal for everyone, but when you have so much to share and no one to share it with in that very moment, well it just loses it magic.
So in the theme of self-appraisal, the following cuts have being made. All current travel plans are to be binned, including this very one I have embarked on.
The Balkans & South Eastern Europe - Binned
Vietnam, Laos, Cambodia & Thailand - Binned, Binned & Binned
Eastern Island & Chile - Binned
A knee-jerk reactions? possibly. But I see no pint doing these things when there are definite signs that change needs to happen, and what are travel plans; exactly that - plans.

What happens next? Well I'm not so sure, and that's what I want. The last few months have been well not stressful but I guess anxious in a way. The laid back Jason that I know must have got left behind somewhere because I certainly don't feel easy going at the moment. Rushing around from one place to the next, smoking like a chimney, drinking like fish; all warning signs that I guess I'm the only one that's going to see. So something needs to happen...and happen it shall!

The fact that I'm in love with a fairytale is certainly not helping matters and for what I reason is the stem of the questions. The seed was dropped and has grown uncontrollably. The fact that one person, one person can UNKNOWINGLY change ones outlook, goals and there ideals has come as a huge shock to me, but in turn set a powerful message, one I can't ignore or try to bury. What will be the fate of this seed? Time will tell, what ever way is goes the positives will definitely be enriching.
When I think it's all solved in my head, I have merely pushed it to one side before it slams back to center stage demanding attention.
So this is numero uno priority, I need to sort this out before it cripples my mind even more so. One way or the other the answers to the questions needs to be told weather I like the answers or not.

So as predicted earlier in the year, this is a year of change; one that is in full swing and all a bit overwhelming but a year that I will look back on and hopefully be proud.

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Seeing as I seem to have an internet access where ever I go, this one of the first in hopefully a continued list of blogs that I will publish that isn't related to the actual travel but the issues surrounding it and that of being a perpetual traveler.

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Questions, Questions, Questions...... remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Alot has happened over the last year, the majority of it "working" and saving for this current journey. Maybe this is why I have neglected to write as nothing too exciting has being going on.
Well for the last year and a bit I have been working on one of those big luxury yachts as a deckie; which is basically a glorified name for a boat cleaner. Lots of washing, polishing, buffing, painting, scrubbing and things like dropping the anchor and making sure we didn't run into stuff. I did have a good time on board and although we were quite lucky in that the boat travelled round alot I think by a year a case of cabin fever started to kick in.
Some of the amazing things..... Well without a doubt it had to be Alaska, the deciding factor that made me join this boat in the first place. What a truly untouched and magical place. Words just can't describe the beauty up there, a little bloody chilly for this Aussie guy but soon forgotten when face to face with a glacier millions of years old pushing into the Pacific Ocean.
The lowlights would have to be of course getting up at 4am; in Alaska! whilst it is blowing a gale and buffing windows so to look a million dollars before the owner got up. We did spend alot of time in America's West Coast, I think a total of 6 months in the end which made it possible to see some of the sights and experience the truly unique American way.

Then it was off to New Zealand via French Polynesia and Tahiti. I wish we had have done NZ first as it really lost its impact after Alaska, was much the same but less well...grand!
Saying this, we were in a boat putting around the coastline so not really seeing the true NZ, I still one day hope to do a road trip of the place as it seems like a beautiful destination.
I left the boat in New Zealand, which being right next door to OZ couldn't resist going home for what had being 4 years away. first stop was Sydney, which surprisingly I had never being to before. So Mel showed me around her big old city before I went to visit the parents in Queensland. It just so happened that my visit home coincided with Easter, so all the family was around and up to there old antics. Then it was back to Brisbane to catch up with everyone and sort out a few thing before saying Bonn voyage again after 2 weeks in my mother land.
Was so nice catching up with everyone about the old and new time but the most special thing was my cousins. Totally caught me off guard but was incredible seeing them again, especially the two youngest who were just babies when I left. Guess they are kinda like my sisters.

The one thing I did manage to do on the boat was to get totally debt free and save enough for this year of travel. Alot of people were surprised with how far in debt I was, a rough estimate was around $16,000AU which was really inevitable as I hadn't really had a decent paying job since I left in 2005. the one person I just can't thank enough for what he did and how he helped me out is Steve. You did so much more than you should have and god knows where I would be now if you hadn't had helped.

So after the whirlwind that was Australia it was back on the place and to my second home.....London.
I don't really know how to write this, so I'm just gonna write and see what comes out.
Originally I was going back to London to catch up with everyone and sort out my visas that I will need for this trip. Then my friend Monica decided to join me as she had never being to London before so was happy to show her the sights. Had an interesting and wonderful time there and was awesome to see everyone again and go back to some of the old haunts. Thanks so much to Charlotte for letting us stay at your place and giving up your own bed!!
So that was London, lots of sightseeing and what not then after a week it was off to Stockholm and where Monica joined me as well. Ahhh Stockholm well not so good memories there, not going to go into it too much detail as it still hurts quite a bit but ended up being quite a sad situation. After a few day there we moved into separate places and went out separate ways, I managed to screw it all up and just hope that something can be salvaged.

Now I have moved onto Oslo in Norway where I'm just trying to get my head together and get into the travelling "vibe", which seems to be quite hard to do this trip. I can't help but feel lonely which in the past I have felt before and is to be expected when travelling solo, but this time it just feels like If I can't see it with someone why is it worth seeing if you can't share it. Perhaps this is a turning point; the end of solo Jason perhaps? whatever happened it all part of the process...right?

The other thing about this trip I'm about to undertake and something that is going to be totally different to all the others, is that I'm going to be CouchSurfing the whole way. Now I absolutely love the CouchSurfing Project and what its all about and what it does, but it lacks one thing and that's the possibility of travel partners; not in the long term but at that very moment. Generally the people that are hosting you are rooted in the city, weather it be for a long or short time it doesn't matter as they have lives there. Fair enough, all good! What I am use to is hostels and the abundance of "travellers" in them, which more often than not meant that you had someone to see the city with and even better someone to travel to the next destination with, creating a friend of a kind.
By CouchSurfing all the way, which I have no choice but to do, means that this truly be a solo trip which I'm not sure if I am 100% ready for. But that's what its all about, discovering yourself? Well fuck I think I'm in for one hell of a discovery mission.

So that's the story as it stands today, I plan on getting at least down to Bulgaria/ Northern Greece by September and then it looks like I will be shooting over to Hong Kong in November/ December to meet an old mate and see some more of SE Asia.

The sun is setting here in Oslo, along with the temperature. Thanks to the scarf that was kindly donated by Laura (you rock!!) it's marginally warmer, I just need to work out how to tie this thing right!
Tomorrow I'm off to buy a big arse jacket before moving to the west coast of Norway for a couple of weeks of glacier and fjord hopping before mentally preparing myself for the challenges that lie above the Arctic Circle.

Check out all the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/

Thanks to Dan for this amazing shot in Alaska!

The story so far.... remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Having being granted another long weekend I decided to head south and check out Mexico.
Setting off from San Diego, me & one of the boats stewardess (Helen) made our way to the US/Mexico border and crossed over to Tijuana where we picked up our hire car for a 3 day adventure.

The plan was to drive south till we hit the town of Ensenada where we would stay the night before heading west across the Baja Peninsular to San Filipe & then eventually driving back up through Mexacali and Tecate and back to the border; well that was the plan. Nothing too exciting on the way just see what happens and go with the flow kinda style, but something in my gut told me that this was going to be an adventure even if we were only there for three days.

We picked up our hire car at the airport and while Helen was wishing for an old VW Beetle I was just wanting some manual el cheapo car that didn't scream 'Tourists!' to every passer-by. We ended up with a 2006 Toyota Tsuru which although produced in 2006 honestly looked like something from the late 90s.
Off we went heading south down through some serious fog bound for Ensenada, as it's within a couple of hours from the border I imagined it would be full of American tourists but it actually wasn't; just a few drunken college kids at lunch time and that was it, not even at the Street/Dance/Bar Festival that was going on that night. Bonus!

With thumping hangovers we started early as we had a 5 hour drive ahead of us across the peninsular to San Filipe where it's not only the home of some of the biggest tides in the world but also those massive giant cactus.
Arriving around 1pm to the park entrance of "The Land of the Giants" we collected our map from the lone man in his shack and started to make our way through the park. I don't think I realized just how big these things were, absolutely massive with some above the 10 meter mark and thousand of years old.
As we passed a sign stating '4WDs only past this point' we thought we should be alright and could see that the bigger cactus were deeper in the park, so there was no way we were going to turn around. As the path turned into a sandy bumpy trail Helen insisted that I should be driving as it was jut too much fun for one person! So I take the wheel and continue driving and as my off road driving skill range from low to non-existent I really had no idea but found that just planting my foot to the floor seemed to have positive results even if my passenger was clutching the dashboard and letting out muffled squeals as we gracefully flew over the dips.
As on the map there seemed to be a tiny but steep little mountain in the middle of the whole lot which you are meant to drive around......somehow, but ended up on a trail going right up the thing! In what was not my brightest moment up we went; pedal to the metal, rattling round like clueless rally drivers. I did have second thoughts half way up but god we were committed now. Still hammering up the mountain loosing traction and who knows what else we reached the top and after a few jarring thumps and ear peacing scrapes were brought to a holt. Oh shit!
Personally I was more worried about the front spoiler being all banged up as that's something not easily fixed or hidden, and what might have being a small stroke of luck it was fine except for that oil leak steadily pissing out the bottom. I didn't really see it as a big problem, just get back to the shack get some Mexican bush mechanic out and stick something in the hole. Fixed!

Well it didn't quite go like that as we never made it back to the shack, well at least not with our car. Seems like I got into a spot of bother on the way back and managed to get suck in the sand......two front wheels 3/4 buried. Perhaps it was the lack of water as my first dillusional thought was "Well at least we've plugged the hole", no no it's sand you idiot. Well now it's serious; here we are stranded in the desert atleast a few kilometers from the main road with half a bottle of water for the two of us and in searing temperatures. The decision was made to start walking back to the entrance to get help, a tow and a mechanic. Trying to keep the thoughts of scorpions and rattlesnakes out of my head and not daring to mention it to Helen as she's English and most probably think snakes go hunting for humans, anyway after what must have been 2 hours of walking through the sand we finally reached the shack and after Helen hosed off and turned back to her normal colour we explained in broken Spanish the problem. So he left us his gun to play with and went off to get his boss the ranch owner.

Well I'm going to summarize now as its going to take way to long to explain it all......
- Ranch Man came (really nice bloke), hauled our car out of the sand with the look of "another bloody tourist stuck"
- Back at the shack; problem found. Transmission sump plate torn open with multiple scrapings and gasket buggered!
- Ranch Man drives us round for 2 hours with one oily removed sump plate to find a welder/mechanic. No luck but nice tour of the town though.
- Buy steak for Ranch Man & he points us in the right direction for the next morning.
- Spend the night in San Filipe. In the morning try finding a mechanic. No luck; no one can do it or just don't understand.
- Find a mechanic. Fixes plate. Sends friend with us to reattach
- Glue plate on, fill with oil. Fuck there's another hole. Seal newly found hole and repeat.
- Pay everyone and finally head off.

With the car practically fixed but still dripping oil we load up on bottles of transmission fluid. to hopefully last the distance. The drve to Tijuana should take around 5 hours and with it being 3pm and having to return the car by 9pm as the rental shop closes and needed to get back to America and be ready for work first thing the next morning. It was going to be tight and there's no way we could fit a breakdown in.

Well we made it after crossing though another baron desert and one of the most spectular mountain highways I've ever driven on before getting back to Tijuana at 8:50pm.
Now do we tell the rental company or not? The decision was split and was left up to me. After settling the bill I casually mentioned that the car had all of a sudden started leaking oil and we had to keep filling it up. possible refund? I don't think he understood........perfect!

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Mexican Madness remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Central America Pit Stop remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Well I've made it!
I've made it past the one month trial period, but only just as there have been a few incidents which I thought would have stitched me up for sure. Such as pre empting an anchor drop & letting it plummet to the ocean floor while still pushing 4 knots and then there was nearly losing the waverunner which I could have sworn I clipped on; until seeing it about 200 meters away and realising that " Hey! That's ours!!". But I take a little comfort in the fact that my deckie buddie, who is also a newbie; managed to nearly lose the tender....at night! We were lucky enough to see it in the dim moon light being wished away by the strong currents. The captain must think he's got a couple of clowns working for him.
So it's being a very interesting, challenging and tiring month.

As the owner was on for all of our cruising of the Caribbean it's being non stop shifts 24/7 and not being able to get away from it like a normal shore job has taken some getting use to and I'm still not cool with it but we have got to see some wonderful places along the way.
After leaving St Martin we headed down to Antigua to pick up some guests before cruising down to Guadeloupe and all the islands down to St Lucia, which is about halfway down the Caribbean chain of islands; before heading back up to Antigua. It all took a little under 2 weeks to take in all the islands on our whistle stop tour before the owner and the guests got off and we started to prepare for our next journey.

The weather here had being a bit shitty and not really what I expected of the Caribbean for this time of year with choppy seas, non-stop wind and countless passing rain showers to drench the boat that you have just meticulously dried from the previous shower.
But on the days that have been perfect I've tried to make the most of the down time we have and any shore leave that we're given and were lucky enough to be treated to a watersports day where we could use the yachts toys like the jet skis, waverunners and kayaks and I've never had so much fun on a waverunner as I did that day. Jumping over 8-10ft relentless swell of one of St Lucia's beautiful points, wave after wave; airborne and blinded from the salt spray. Wicked stuff!

So now we're heading across the Caribbean Sea, heading fro Panama and the famous canal where we will hopefully get some shore time before making the long 10 days treck up the coast to San Diago and the U S of A baby!

Check out the pics here >>>
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I was lucky enough to have to go to Paris for a few days to go for my visa interview to get a US Business Visa, which all went well and had a chance to see the sights of Paris and see some French theatre and attend a travel group with Pierre who I was Couchsurfing with.
As alot of people say that the French are quite rude I tied to tackle it with an open mind and yes I think they can be quite rude; in particular Paris, but no more than some of the other European countries, say Italy and like any big city Paris has got the big city attitude. But what a beautiful it is; quite romantic though. Great if you've got some hottie with you, less so if you don't and especially with a weeks to Valentines Day.

Before heading up to Paris I had a chance to see snow for the very first time; proper snow, although I didn't go for a ski but was still quite cool seeing the fluffy powder.
I also had a chance to do some driving on the icy roads where my normal driving skills were no good to me at all and managed to plough the hire car into a wall of snow after overtaking at speed just before a blind corner, which was rattling enough but then realising that we were just a metre from tipping over the edge of the mountain and tumbling down the side of the mountain!!

So am now in the Caribbean in just the nick of time as the funds were at critical level and just about to max out the second credit card. Now the steep and fast learning curve begins and where I must adapt to the "5 Star Silver Service" yachtie Jason, which I have to say has never been found before!

Check out the pics here >>>
http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3818460_MJTfQ#215215310_GEkMi
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After being picked up by my good mate Monica; who I met in Ibiza, and then dropping my stuff off we headed out to a few local bars with her brother Hugo and I soon realised again why I absolutely love Spain. It’s just the Spanish people and their way of life, so relaxed, always smiling and having fun and seems to be enjoying every minute of every day, if only I could speak some proper Spanish it would be so much better.
Well I’m not sure if it was a stroke of luck or what but after walking into this club on the first night they just happened to drop ‘Heater’ by Samim which was the biggest tune to hit Ibiza last season and fuck I just couldn’t get the smile of my face and that pretty much how it stayed for the next few days.

Was staying with Monica, her brother & her wicked Granma in there flat which was just a stones throw away from the Real Madrid stadium. Now I’m no soccer fan but did a tour of the magnificent stadium which took you through the changing room, media room and the pitch. Was a bit of a shame I had no idea what I was looking at in the trophy room but going on the size and the amount of trophies I’m sure it would have been any soccer fans wet dream.

While Monica & her bro were working I took the opportunity to go and get lost in the city and find some really cool spots and places such as an Ibiza Metro station (Corny I know) before heading back home to get ready for the next night out.

Apparently Madrid is a bit of a trendy city, so the idea of changing shoes to something a bit more ‘smart’ didn’t go down too well, thought my shoes were well ; trendy, maybe a bit dirty but still trendy....right?
After everyone got dolled up I got into my well ‘usual’ clothes, we set off to have a few drinks in the park with some of Hugo’s mates before hitting the Heineken club then the absolutely unbelievable Kapital club.
Set in an old theatre and made up of SEVEN levels it’s Madrid’s biggest club and has a floor for just about every type of music (even a karaoke bar and cinema), and I have to say (even at risk of sounding like a big geek) the lighting rig was just truly astonishing. I suppose only fitting for the capital of the best country in Europe.

Next day it was up unusually early to go check out the Plaza De Torres bull ring which I was rather excited about. Not the whole bull killing thing but more the tradition of it and it being the second biggest ring of its kind in the world. Well it would have looked a hell of a lot bigger if the fucking circus hadn’t decided to come to town and erect there big top right in the middle, although seeing there elephants and lions roaming around was quite cool, with it being a bull ring and all
It was then time to head home to have a kip before venturing out into the crowds for the 3 Kings Festival which is like a second Christmas for Spain and apparently Italy, where they have a massive parade and all the kids get there presents from the first Christmas! Confused?

I have to say that Monica was an absolute champion as she managed to hook us up with guestlist or free entry every night to some of the best nights and for the 3rd night I became a honorary ‘agents de la noche’ or to the non Spanish ‘agents of the night’. Nothing crude or rude just a company that sends out ‘agents’ to take photos of people partying the night away; to bad I didn’t have a good camera or understand what they were asking for so left it up to Monica while I went and had some fun.

On the Sunday it was time to chill out and after catching up with my buddy Evan, Monica showed me a few of here favourite spots before I had to leave the next day back to France.

I had a absolute ball in Madrid and with it being my 4th visit to Spain its the country I’ve visited the most without living there and has now even got me thinking of studying there for a year or so sometime, but with things changing every couple of months these days who knows what will happen.

p.s A massive thank you to Monica & her lovely family for letting me stay with them. Next time Monica please let me at least wash the dishes won’t ya! :p

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/4143458_8aaCF#240011704_Sfq5G

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After leaving the yacht & being flown back to Nice one week before Christmas, I ended up staying with my mate Steve at his friends join in Cannes where after he left was by myself over Christmas.
Wanting to make the most of it and at least feel like I was at home, I decided to cook up a storm and after discovering one of Jamie Oliver's cookbooks found the perfect meal for Christmas Day. Upon waking on Christmas Day and discovering that Santa has YET AGAIN forgot to deliver any presents I cracked open the wine and started preparing the feast for one.
One big chicken smother in salt and pepper and drowned in oil.
Then one lemon, some garlic cloves and a few herbs stuffed up his insides then covered in bacon rashes and lied to rest on a bed of potatoes before being roasted for an awfully long time.
In the meantime had turned on the telly and was reminiscing back to the good old days with every single pop chart number one from since I was still at school. Christmas is one of those weird days where you can think back years to where you were on that very day.
Well the chicken was done and totally beat my expectations of how it would turn out....it wasn't burnt!!! But then, like always I realised why I don't like cooking as in the time it had taken to cook I had lost my hunger and wasn't hungry no more but being that I cooked it I managed to fit in one tasty chicken breast before passing out on the couch.

After having to make a hasty evacuation from the apartment after being informed the owner was on her way back and will be there in 10 minutes, I headed to Steve's boat back in Monaco for a night before jetting off to London.

We'll I'm the first to admit that I've given London I bit of a bad rap in the past and it's not one of my favourite places but it did feel good to be back as it's like a second home and where all my mates are.
Staying with my friend Denisa who is living in an absolutely magnificent humongous ex-hostel/ex-squatters pad up in North London was quite cool and after catching up and having a good night sleep it was time to see what everyone else was up to.
Heading out to Brick Lane the night before New Years with a couple of buddies ended up being quite the night and was already exhausted before NYE had even begun!!

Well NYE came and went like any other year, but this year had a special touch about it as it was like being back at home again. I spent the first half of the night at some Kiwi party in a recording studio in Shoreditch where I was a bit hesitant to confess that I was an Aussie in case they all turned on me and to get away from their extremely discounted alcoholic drinks. Then it was off to Ministry of Sound to catch up with the gang again and see what's being going on before ending up at The Key & The Cross for the ultimate New Year's Day party where it got very messy indeed surprisingly quickly.

With only a few days of my trip remaining I caught up with a few other people before bidding farewell again & setting off the Madrid.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/4138284

Christmas in Cannes & London for New Year remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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After streaming through the Suez Canal we entered the Red Sea where we were flanked by Sudan & Egypt before making our way south towards the pirate zone in the Gulf of Aden where Somalian pirates were our biggest threat. Fortunately we made it through unscathed, although hearing on the news a week later that a Japanese chemical tanker had being taken over by pirates in the same area was a bit unsettling, lucky for us I guess.
From there we started our 4 day voyage across the Indian Ocean where some of the sunsets were just amazing and in between the seemingly endless workload were treated to a BBQ up on the Sundeck and the use of the jacuzzi, for a moment it felt like I was on holidays......then the polishing started again. The weather across the Indian & for most part of the trip was quite good, a couple of bad days with the wind and swell & an incident of motoring across a fishing trawler line, which at first though might have been another small vessel as fishing trawlers are not common in that area.

During the trip we didn't have access to the internet or TV which was just hell as it meant that the crew had to bond & with most of them being quite jaded everyone just seemed to go to bed......at 7:30pm!
I decided to make use of the ships gym & do a workout every night while I could, god did it burn for a couple of days, my body has done a complete 3 60 since Ibiza and I even put one weight as I'm fed 3 times a day! When I went to put on my jeans after making it to land again thought the laundryman had shrunk then in the dryer but no the belt had gone up 2 notches!!

After finally making it halfway across the Indian Ocean to our destination the Maldives, we arrived in Mali where we fuelled up and moved onto our anchorage the next day at Bandos Island. There we had 10 days to get the boat in tip top condition before the guest arrived and also got 3 days off to rest and go ashore. I was lucky enough to be able to sort out a trip back to Mali with the yachting agents, but as none of the other crew members in our group wanted to go exploring it was just me and the laundryman who went to check it out.
Was nice being back to some kind of civilisation as I had a few things to buy and sort our as it was our last time ashore for a while and was wicked to be able to explore the little island capital. The Maldivians are really nice people & didn’t realise they were so closely related to the Indians, but was nice spending a good 10 hours there before being taken back to the yacht. Was also nice being able to go ashore at Bandos and drink & dance with some of the other yacht crews that had anchored up.

Unfortunately though it has all but finished. It seems that I may have rocked the boat a bit much and managed to get fired, for what could possibly be the first time.
In all honesty I would have stayed and just gone through the motions because of the itinerary but most probably came out just as jaded as most of the crew, so not all a bad thing and was a good month on board, an interesting & eye opening experience that I am going to try and do again.
I was flown back to Nice in France via Dubai where I had a 14 hour stopover and after debating with myself for 3 hours and trying out all the seat selections in the terminal reluctantly checked myself into the airport hotel where I’m still feeling dizzy about the price I had to pay. Then it was onto the next leg from Dubai to Nice where I managed to top my longest flight record to 10 hours. All of this flying was through Emirates which is much better than the EasyJet flights I'm use to. One of the finniest things though was when the food come out, there's so much stuff on that tiny little tray and watching everyone trying to manoeuvre 3 dishes of food, a coffee, water, a beer and 2 sets of cutlery and hearing distant sighs as it goes terribly wrong is quite amusing. I seemed to have managed it after hitting some turbulence and ending up my beer & lemon marang in my lap and my buttered bun in my water.

So I'm now back in Antibe, where I didn’t think I would be so soon, it just a week till Christmas & am trying to figure out what to do next as I don't really want to spend the Festive season here alone & freezing my tits off.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/4002340

Over before it even got started remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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All is well on board, one hell of a learning curve but getting there slowly although I think I've got a mild case of culture shock for the first time in all my travels!!! The fact that I'm working on a boat for days and days without seeing land, no nightlife or entertainment to speak of besides DVDs, no girls, no alcohol & nothing to do except live and breath and scrub the yacht. I'm sure I'll get use to it, just a bit of a shock to the system and different words for EVERYTHING!, can someone get me a yachting dictionary for Christmas hehe; alright for the hardcore yachties on board but I’m already realising that I don't want to end up like that, seems like it can turn into the 9-5 office grind....even at sea!!!

Not sure when I can be in contact again as we are loosing internet for the next two weeks and might not have it for the whole duration in the Maldives.....like till after New years!!!!! don't know how I will cope

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/4002340

First taste of the life on the seas remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Well I managed to make it out of Ibiza thanks to my mate Steve & the 24 meter yacht that he captains & have been parked up here in Monaco for the last month.
The trip here was quite eventful, passing through Mallorca, Barcelona and then up the Spanish coast through the Gulf of Leon which through some heavy swell at us, then it was down along the French Rivera to our final stop in Monaco marina.
The French Rivera is absolutely beautiful with the train & the road out too Italy hugging the coastline and boring through the mountains, there's even a little bit of snow forming already on some of the peaks.
Monaco's not the liveliest of places, more of a rich old mans town, hell they even have defibrillators on the street for those unannounced heart attacks. Although it's not lively I think it’s just what I needed. Chilled out doing nothing and just setting myself back in order has been really good. The French seem not too bad, not as bad as I've heard from others, although maybe the fact that I'm still speaking broken Spanish to them makes it look as though at least I'm trying.

Living on the boat hasn't been as bad as I thought it would be, it's quite big with 3 bedroom each with ensuite showers and a kitchen...better than some flats I've lived in, just feels like a normal floating house & whilst I've been here have been helping out with bits and pieces on the boat. Steve's such a top bloke that he let me borrow his mates car for a day to drive to Antibes for some interviews & that. Now being the first time driving on the wrong side of the road (the right hand side) with a car that I was unfamiliar with (why are the blinkers on the other side!!!!!) and not knowing how to get to where I was going I think it went surprisingly well......besides the wing mirror kidney slap I managed to give some bicyclist at 60km p/h. Going by the rear view mirror I'm sure he'll ride again another day.

I've also managed to get a trip up to Gothenburg in Sweden since I've been here, my first taste of Scandinavia & a fucken cold one!
Well I've not been one to do anything half hearted I've dived absolutely full steam into this yacht thing. Have done a shed load of training which has cost me an absolute packet that I don't have and am not even guaranteed a job at the end of it. I kind of look at it as an investment if you will, once I get a job I can pay it off in no time at all, just have to borrow from the bank to get it in the first place. So since leaving Ibiza in my messy state, you will be surprised to hear that I am now trained in First Aid, Freezing water sea survival, fire fighting and all sorts of other things and have managed to pass my medical examination!! And too think that just a month ago I had no idea what was next, where I was going and a not a dime to my name, bloody hell must be doing something right!

Now I sit here absolutely ecstatic as I've managed to pick up a job as a deckie on a 54 meter super yacht that's heading down to the Maldives, Thailand, Seychelles then back up to the Med over the next 5 months!!!!! I’m absolutely speechless, I get flow out too Istanbul where I will join the crew and start cruising down to the far east. Am one lucky lucky man :D

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3818460

Preparing for battle remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Ibiza in itself is it’s own little world, things happen here that don’t happen anywhere else I know of…but it works. The security relaxed approach to everything except cameras, being able to go clubbing morning, noon and night 24/7, getting a beer at the hairdressers and something that doesn’t happen ANYWHERE else……Space mornings, my god I’ll never look at Sunday mornings the same again, forget church!
But even Ibiza can have its problems. This season there was a terrorist bomb alert, police shutting down 3 major clubs (which later re-opened), an oil spill and the weather being a bit shady towards the end. But in all of this you have the Spaniards which do have to put up with a lot of shit and still show a friendly face & continuously chirping ‘Holla, Holla’, maybe it’s the fact that your paying double the price of everything compared to the rest of Spain.

It wasn’t all highs though & by the end of the season I was well and truly ready to leave the island and had honestly had enough of the parties and everything that went with them and too see mates turn into something and someone else by the end of the season was truly unbelievable. With that came peoples reliability which disappeared & selfishness took over by the end. The later of which I did get caught up with. Sure everyone always says that it’s a bad thing to be selfish. But I’ve come to realize if you’re not selfish, even just a little bit you get nothing and seem to go nowhere, well at least not to where you want to go anyway. If you want something why not have it or at least trey to get it, but of course you can always take it too far. I think there is a healthy balance somewhere, a balance I think I’m getting better at over the years.
But we all help each other out through the tough times even if it is just a guest list here & there for a mate with no cash and the mates I’ve made here are just top notch, maybe because we have seem the ‘good & bad’ sides of each other, so to speak. That’s goto build a strong friendship but deep deep down I think we were all ready to leave at the end.

The memories, fuck the memories here. The things I’ve seem, done and being here are things I use to dream about and imagine and I promise you I’ll never forget the first time I walked into Space, the atmosphere, the people, the tears. Unbelievable. Just wish I hadn’t lost everyone on the way in!!

Towards the end of the season I came to the realization that I had not a Euro to my name and how the fuck was I going to get out of here. I was trapped in Ibiza!!!
Well like everything it all works itself out and while plans of going to Ireland were scrapped, then doing a ski season in Andorra were put on the backburner, I ended up meeting a captain of a yacht through a good mate and has taken me onboard showing me the ropes and what not so hopefully should be cruising to some exotic location in the next month or so.

So the big question. Would I come back?
Well for anyone that has known me for an extended period of time knows that this is me to a tee and has being for a very long time and as much fun as I did have I have had more fun elsewhere, which I found really interesting. Perhaps its my personality traits kicking in with the fact that I can’t stay in one place for a long time even if I am enjoying it. The weird thing about the whole thing is that I love it so much and can’t imagine my life without this music, having it day in and day out, every night, every morning, it just looses it touch. Doesn’t seem to make it special anymore & that’s what I want to keep, the specialty of it, when it makes you cry with joy and smile so much you face hurts from smiling too much, that’s what makes it special and that’s what I want to keep. But going from this last week I won’t be forgetting it anytime soon as any recent tune jogs memories of somekind of randomness and am finding it hard going out….it just ain’t the same as Ibiza!!
So in short, I can’t see myself coming back for a full season but can never rule it out, but will definitely be back for a holiday some time…..a long one! as there is nowhere else where electronic music is celebrated so much in such a small place.

Adios Ibiza, you treated me well

Peace

Favorites

Favorite Club: Space
Favorite Party: Tiesto @ Privilege
Favorite Club Night: Carl Cox @ Space
Favorite Moment: Looking round when Tiesto was playing at Privilege and everyone smiling ear to ear.
Favorite Food: N/A
Favorite Drink: Fanta Naranja / Oakey Banana Milkshake
Favorite Place: Sa Trinka / Dalt Vila (Evissa Castle)
Favorite Beach: Cala D’Hort
Priceless Moment: Beach parties with mates
Scariest Moment: Realization of having no money and having to leave in 3 weeks
Amazing Moment: Falling ever so slightly in love for the most amazing girl,
Song of the season: Love is Gone - David Guetta
Quote of the season: Give love….Get love back (Lucky, 2007)
Jobs: Minimal Bar, FunKafe, Pago Pago, Hed Kandi, SpinClub, The Zoo Project,
Wonderworld Festival, Milk ‘n’ 2 Sugars
Lost: My hearing (even more), my senses, my money, my towel, one sock, my mind.

Check out the pics here >>>
Month 1 - http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/2966657
Month 2/3 - http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3148295
Month 4/5 - http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3561327

Summer of Destruction - The Afermarth... remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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So what’s being going on since I’ve being back. Well I did make it back to Spain with no immigration problems, although we’ll have to wait and see what happens when I go to leave the EU.
The parties have being going on thick and fast with not that big of an income, I can only wonder how I can afford to go out so much. Tiesto came and conquered the island with a party that was just beyond belief. Talk about bringing out all the guns; there were singers, fireworks, ridiculous amounts of ice cannons, one gigantic video screen and two fuck of f big colour lasers. I swear there was no one there that didn’t have a smile on there face the whole night & being the biggest club in the world definitely did it justice. Then there was cream, Carl Cox, Roger Sanchez & his live sex show, Manumission & the list goes on and now with all the closing parties taking place it’s all starting to come to an end!!

The housing situation has being a bit up and down with all of us being evicted from our apartment with one hour notice. Basically what happened is the guy we were paying our rent too & who we through owned the apartment turned out that he didn’t own it and found out when the actual owner turned up to get 2 months rent which hadn’t being paid to him by the guy who he thought was staying there, the guy we were paying rent to!!
Anyway one thing led to another and we wouldn’t pay the 2 months rent that we had already paid and got booted out onto the pavement. Since Mel had already left a couple of weeks earlier it was just Laura, Jayne and me to find a place. Well we all split up to different places and Laura went back to the UK soon after. I ended up staying with my mates Nati & Coti where I got evicted from after a couple of weeks after the owner found out & am now staying at Ben’s apartment until I leave the island.

Another wicked thing that I’ve got into over here is the Couchsurfing Project. I’ve been a member for the last year or so but it hasn’t being until Ibiza that I’ve really started to get involved in it. Basically it’s a website that travellers round the world use to meet people & stay at there places where they are living. It seems that there weren’t that many young host in Ibiza so ended up meeting some fantastically wicked people who stayed in our apartment. Now I’m not sure if I’m a really bad host or if it was just bad timing but managed to make there stay all the more ‘exciting’ The first one was Melissa who came from Barcelona for a couple of days, lovely girl & was all going well until the day before she was planning to leave. Basically we just use to leave our key outside as we had managed to lose all the other key sets. Anyway we all seemed to have forgotten to put the key out and all ventured off to various places for the night. So poor Melissa has come back to the house for the night only to find that the key wasn’t outside and all of us were all round the island & not a single Euro of phone credit between us.
Long story short. None of us could call her back and I totally forgot she needed to go to the airport in the morning, but what can I do with the keys locked in the apartment?? Well it all seemed to work out as she made friends with the neighbours, stayed there the night and went to the airport……without her bags in the morning! Felt so bloody bad, she was quite cool about it all though and when I eventually arrived home; hungover like you wouldn’t believe, Ben kicked the door down, thought about what we had done and went to the beach. Bad host???
Another bad host story if not worse was with another Spanish girl from Denia, Monica. Fucking wicked girl, possibly one of the most loveliest girls I’ve ever met. She wanted to stay in Ibiza for one week, I was like yeah that absolutely fine as were all the other flatties. She’s arrived & we’ve gone to see Laura who told us that we were getting evicted in a couple of days. Oh bugger! Surely it won’t be this week I reassured Monica. Well one sunny Saturday morning while Monica & the rest of the crew where at Space, the landlord knocked on out door and basically gave me an hour to get all our stuff out. Now being the only one home and having to pack up an apartment along with four girls accumulated clothes and assorted shit, I had the whole house packed up and on the pavement with time to spare.
So there I was having no idea where the fuck ill be staying little lone poor old Monica who I’m meant to be hosting. So there was that big thing, then when I gave her bags back there was stuff missing and messed up with the other girls clothes. Then I temporarily lost her bag with all her money in so she couldn’t be buy a ferry ticked home, then I also managed to temporarily lose her bag with here house key in; which she realised once back on the mainland!! Am thinking I’m not the best of hosts, although quite good at taking them out and partying on down at the best parties and doing my wicked Space tours….but not accommodation host. Although I did managed to introduce Monica to Vegemite & Pot Noodles, both of which didn’t go down well, but did manage to re-house Monica & myself and it all worked out in the end; made for an interestng trip I say!

To check out Couchsurfing follow this link >>> http://www.couchsurfing.com/people/redmonkey

Has being a wicked journey out here though, with a few mates coming out from London & meeting some amazing people out here. Managing to destroy mine, Jaynes and my brand new camera and then topping ioff the season with a trip to neighbouring Formentera Island which has the most beautiful beaches in the Mediterranean; riding round on bicycles and chilling out before it all wraps up.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3561327

Summer of Destruction - Month 4 / 5 (The Crazyness...) remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Hmmm, so where to start......Well since last writing I’ve picked up more jobs & being fired from one, have moved flat, ran out of money & had some passport issue and have had a birthday.
It’s being an absolute whirlwind of emotions & issues.
I think the last time I wrote I was working at FunKafe but walked out of there [edited by request of FunKafe] and found a job PRing for a beach bar called Pago Pago which was a wicked place to work in, some nice chilled people & was a bit of fun. Unfortunately I was fired from there after a couple of weeks as I now need a permit to work on the street and as being Australian that’s never gonna happen. It’s all good though as I have a few other jobs going at the moment to keep me busy and the money coming in.
I promote a night at Space nightclub called SpinClub which is on Thursday nights with Chris Liebing, its only 2 days work a week but is easy money & the promoters are nice as. I pretty much do the same thing for a night at El Divino nightclub as well called Milk ´n´2 Sugars, just giving out discounted wristbands along the beach & streets & just generally promoting the night. The other job I do is work for the Hed Kandi label packing promo packs & cleaning the mammoth 5 bedroom, 3 bathroom DJ apartment, which takes about oooo 5 hours to clean after the DJs have partied, packed & gone home. I’m also starting to get involved with production of the Hed Kandi night through my mate Ben & can hopefully get some more work like that for Hed kandi & other events too.
So with all these jobs you would think that I’m loaded?? Well I have enough to get day to day but now without a big money (full-time) job it’s quite tight as its a bit of an expensive island & also the problem of having to save something as I've got no cash to travel on at the moment..eeek!

What else has being happening here??...well there’s being a few apartment issues. We were living in central Evissa for just under a month after Jayne & Tilly arrived from London & then Jack half way through the month. But after a couple of weeks Jack couldn’t hack it any more and decided to go back to London & Tilly ran out of cash & had to jump ship. This was all happening about a week before our rent was due & not knowing that Tilly was even thinking about leaving meant that when we did find out we had hardly any time to sort something out, which made me a wee bit angry & don’t really want to talk to the girl anymore, well at the time, am over the whole thing now.
Anyhoo the big guy upstairs must have seen what was going on and how stressed Jayne & I were that one balmy night whilst I was standing on my corner PRing and was just randomly chatting to these two girls who were looking for a place to live & just as I was about to say go & check out the local newspaper Jayne came storming down the street & dropping the bomb shell that we had to move out, NEXT WEEK!!!
Well put 2 & 2 together the 4 of us started house hunting the next day & after narrowly avoiding putting all of our combined life savings together & giving it to the Italian Mafia who were trying to rent out a house that we reckon the owners were on holiday from....we all live happily now in a 1 bedroom apartment in Playa Den Bossa where the population ranges from 4 to an average of 6. Is very cozy indeed and if there has being anytime I have craved even just a little piece of personal space, it's now.
So now I’m living with 4 English girls with the extras from Jayne being Mel & Laura, sounds like the perfect situation...Living with 4 girls in Ibiza, but am ready to go cut down a tree or something, or kill a deer with my mates, just too much girly vibes and girly shit everyday, although I have learnt some really interesting things though.

The Parties......Well I can't even explain, the pictures tell some of the story. Have being so many good times with mates & randoms like the beach parties, the villa party in the mountains under the stars, Space in the mornings, evenings & the afternoons, ahhhh.
The most random night being the night I turned into 'Rambo'. It all started off after finishing work & heading to the bar where Mel & Laura work & after polishing off a bucket load of free sex on the beaches climbed aboard the bus to Privilege where it all started to turn pear shaped. The craziness continued on the bus & after allegedly falling over a couple of times I realized that my belt bag thingy had gone missing. For those not familiar with the Belt Bag thingy, It's not a bum bag nor a man purse but simply a fabric belt with a bag on the side, so when your pockets are full you can add some more. Anyhoo knowing forewell that it hadn't come undone and that some fucker had stolen it, this sent me into a right old rage and the barstard had to still be on the bus.
So the bus pulled up to the club carpark & while all my other mates were flaffing around the floor like chickens looking for it I spotted this one dude who just didn't look right & going on this hunch I told my mate Ben that this dude had it and as we exited the bus saw this wanker unzip it behind the bus! That's when my drunken haze evaporated & Rambo made his first guest appearance.
I started piss bolting after this idiot, chasing him at full speed through the carpark and as he stumbled down this embankment tree covered I launched myself and leaped through the trees above him and landed smack on top of him at the bottom of the hill, timing!!! Now I couldn't hit the poor fella, I’m not a violent dude, think i might have slapped him a couple of times to try and slap some sense into him. Now special mention has to go out to my good mate Ben who was a couple of steps behind me right the way & who managed to chip his front tooth during the action. Cheers buddy, absolute legend!! Also Ben told me about the leap through the trees, which apparently was a 3 meter drop, and what actually happened, as I was to pumped full of adrenalin I can't actually remember doing it. So much so that I literally couldn’t open my mouth to talk for the next 2 hours & was so bloody tense for the rest of the night.
Ahhh but what a wanker though, didn't even have anything in it really, just my cigarettes, but its all about the principle innit bro
I thought I had too let you know all that as it never happens to me and nothing like a bit of action!!

So that's pretty much Ibiza to the minute. I'm writing this from Switzerland as I’m here for a week to get my passport stamped so I can return and stay in Spain for another 90 days.
I’m having an OK time here, some brilliant times with mates and that but it is still stressful with money and that and its not just me going through it. It's also quite a quiet summer here as at the start of the season 3 clubs were shut down for a month which made people cancel there holidays and now a couple of weeks back a cargo ship sunk spilling oil & 3 beaches were closed off, so might get even quieter.
Still having a ball though, its an absolutely nuts island & will hopefully be here for another 2 months, will keep you posted on the passport situation!!

P.s Am now on FaceBook, how bloody cool is it....so if i haven´t added you already send me an invite!!

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/3148295

Summer of Destruction - Month 2 / 3 (The Chaos...) remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Now I don't normally run off to the middle of Europe just for laughs, but as I’m an Aussie I can only stay in the EU for 90 days before having to leave and since I arrive at the start of May it was time to run off and get a stamp so I can stay for another 90 days.

Before leaving I was really unsure if the whole thing would work or not as you actually have to leave the EU for 90 days before being able to come back. The whole thing seemed to gone off without a hitch except for the fact they didn't give me a stamp!!! All that way and upon arriving to Switzerland gave a couple of wrong answers to the immigration officer causing him to dig deeper into my passport and then refusing to give me a stamp, never mind I thought ill just grab one on the way out of the country. Well that didn’t work as at Zurich airport there was this lone dude doing 'Passport Control' which just meant making sure every one had a passport that walked past, well I thought I’d give it a go, hell it was my final chance but nope he didn’t even have a stamp behind his little counter! But I’m here back now, even though I still don’t think I can stay here, but heading to Zurich for a week sorted allot of shit out and doing absolutely nothing at all was a complete change for the craziness of Ibiza.

Well the second chapter is about to start, right on the halfway mark and I’ve come back, looking chilled and apparently younger ready to go again!!!

Switzerland Visa Run remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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Jetted into Ibiza from London with a banging handover and just couldn’t be bothered doing a backpacker thing and jumping on a bus so opted for the taxi and was whisked away to Sant Antonio to my hotel where I had booked a weeks accommodation so I could settle in and find my feet, a job and an apartment....all in that week. Well I might have being a bit naive thinking that I could just cruise on in and have it all sorted within a week, sure didn’t work out that way though.

I tried not to come to Sant Antonio with any pre conceptions as it does have the reputation of being a little Britain and overrun with English chavs, slapper girls and more Irish pubs than you can poke a stick at. Although being advised to steer clear of the area I had too give it a fair go and go check it out for myself before deciding which side of the island to stay on. Well it wasn’t far off from what people had told me with the centre being packed full of English, Irish, Scottish Bars and the lonesome Aussie bar. Having arrived so early before the party season had started there where just Brit workers but even they seemed to chav it up and having witnessed a fights, vomit and random people passed out; quickly decided this was definitely not the side of the island for me; I put up with all this shit at bars back in London, don’t really need to haul myself through it again. In all fairness though the Sunset Strip along where Café Mambo and Café Del Mar are is quite nice and watching the sunset over the ocean, marking the beginning of another crazy night is a sight to behold!

So having decided not to spend my summer in Sant Antonio, I didn’t really need to look for a job there so spent the rest of the week exploring the island and just generally baking in the sun before moving over to the other side of the island and to Playa Den Bossa where I was staying in another hotel to continue the job search.
This side of the island, for me, is wicked as there aren’t too many English; mostly Spanish, Italians and Germans, most of the clubs are here and it has the longest beach on the island as well having the main town of Evissia (Ibiza Town) which you can practically get a bus to anywhere on the island from.

After a couple of days of dropping my resume off and talking to the bar managers, I managed to get a trial an Italian Bar called Bar Minimal.
I did come over looking for bar work but most of the bar jobs are either given to workers that have worked past seasons or Spanish speakers and most of the jobs on the island are for PRing, which is basically handing out flyers and trying to get people into your bar. Looking at it now I would rather do PRing than bar work as the hours are alot better as you finish around 1am and can party on down afterwards, but god it’s hard work......well for me anyways as I’m not the greatest communicator around and would have to be the worst job for me as that’s what I gotta do all night.
Well I only worked at Bar Minimal for about a week or so, it was so quite as the season still was a bit off from starting and still alot of families and oldies around, and only brought in one table all week!!! Well thinking that I was just absolute shite and how the hell can I survive with a job that for me is really hard, I geared up the job search again and found another job in Playa Den Bossa at a bar called FunKafe doing the same thing.
I’m still working there and have survived the 2 week trail, so must be doing something right and am bringing in tables even though it is still slow. It’s quite a cool bar [edited by request of FunKafe], so think I will probably stick it out there for a while, plus I get worker passes to every club so I can get in for free!!! How wicked is that!

Well in the 2 weeks of job searching I absolutely forgot about the fucking apartment search and with the original idea of me just being Mr Independent and finding my own place with some other randoms being scrapped for the much better idea of staying with my mates from London how were due to arrive in one week I had to find a place for all four of us. Jesus fucking christ, this was so stressful I think at one point I was ready to leave the island, hell Ibiza ain´t meant to be like this and here I am stressing like a mofo and still not being paid from my job and spending money on basic stuff and still costing me a fortune! Well after an endless number of phone calls, false viewings and non English speaking agents I managed to find a place right in the heart of Evissa that could fit all four of us and 8 others.
So here we are now all living in a ex lounge room on the first floor of an apartment block with our very own terrace off our room, TV, fridge, sofa and everything else a group of workers could need. The rest of the flat is quite cool, another four bedrooms, 2 bathrooms and a kitchen all with mostly Spanish and Italian people which is quite cool and all secured one day before Tilly and Jayne were to arrive, fuck they definitely owe me a beer or three!

Now was the time I could start too chill out, my mates had arrived, had a job of sorts and a place to sleep it was time to see what this island really had too offer.
Having finished work, we all went out and got pissed at a Brit pub (Ironic?) on €10 jugs of vodka Red Bull before moving onto an Irish pub (Even more Ironic??) and taking a dip into a hotel swimming pool and the ocean before watching the sunrise for another day over the Playa Den Bossa. I did manage to break my camera and with there being no camera repair shops on the island have had to do an old super glue jobby, so if some pictures look way too zoomed out or vise versa, that will explain it
So much crazy shit happens over hear and it ain´t even kicked off yet, god I don’t know what’s going to happen in a couple of weeks when it’s peak time...eek!!

For those of you who are clueless to the inner workings of Ibiza I’ll give you a quick run down....
Basically people come here to get absolutely ratted for normally a week of hardcore partying at the various clubs across the island which are Space, Pacha, El Divino, DC 10, Amnesia, Privilege, Eden & Es Paradis. Privilege is the biggest club in the world and Space is open every morning and night except for Mondays and the rest are just massive.
The ´season is´ from the middle of June through till the end of September / start of October and then all the clubs except for Pacha shut for the winter, with the peak being July & August where apparently the islands population triples.

I’ve only manages to check out a few places so far as most have only just opened and some open in a couple of weeks and am trying so hard at the moment to keep my €€s down. Managed to check out Pacha on Friday night for Pete Tong´s opening party and Space´s opening party on the Sunday which was just out of this world and is pretty much the ´official´ opening of Ibiza, it only goes up from here. Imagine a 22 hour party starting at 8am Sunday morning and finishing at 6am Monday, countless rooms inside and a massive outside terrace!! You really can’t describe it, it is just madness.

So nothing too crazy as yet, although I am starting to see what I am in for and it looks fucking fantastic. I’m really glad I got here quite early as I have had a chance to check out the island before the hoards of people arrive and before I am too exhausted; it is actually quite a beautiful island and with my mates now been here and the parties about to begin this summer is going to be an unforgettable experience.

Check out the pics here >>> http://redmonkey.smugmug.com/gallery/2966657

Summer of Destruction - Month 1 (The Calm...) remains copyright of the author RedMonkey, a member of the travel community Travellerspoint.

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